#the boyz fluff imagine

[loserlvrss]

.. 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐘 ( 김.𝐒𝐖 )

( 八月 ). ──you gets partnered up with the one athlete everyone at your school is obsessed with 김선우 &fem!rea. ⟡ one shot, smut warn. language, unprotected sex, dirty talk, spitting, biting wc : 5034THOU 노트 i got carried away mb gang

The harsh ultra-violet rays warmed your skin, sending a gentle goosebump-ridden pattern over it. You looked out ahead, watching as the soccer team practiced hard—almost daily now (only taking a break on Wednesdays). A breeze passed through the air, weaving its way all around your body, which was wearing the school’s uniform loosely. You sighed, looking up to the wave of lustrously-green trees against the clear-blue sky. 

Your body was relaxed, leaning ever-so-slightly back against the bleacher behind you. Your hand came up when a particularly bright ray shined through the dark leaves of late spring and you blocked it. Then, just as you were about to let it fall back down, your attention caught on one particular member of the team, when a shout of victory wafted into your ears: Kim Sunwoo. 

He was the main character of your daydreams, racing heartbeats, and physical ache. You knew it was stupid to be caught in his grasp, like the rest of the school was. You knew you weren’t special in the way you’d look at him longingly—so desperate for any kind of appraisal from the athlete. 

However, unlike the rest of the female (and male) population, you were contemptuous with your delusion over him. Even if it was an unrequited love, you were closer with yourself—and schooling—in its result. Your parents definitely weren’t complaining with your top-student status and class president tasks.

It seemed like a win-win, but still, you sometimes caught yourself wishing for more in the loneliness of the night, when your mind was the best at focusing on things it shouldn’t. You’d imagine things you’d rather keep in the depths of your archives. Secrets you were prepared to take to the grave: everyone loved Sunwoo, but no one knew you did as well.

The prejudice was that you were too caught up in said studies to even look up, especially not in his direction. You had only a couple of friends, ones you truly trusted with your life, and even they had no clue about your feelings for the soccer player.

You watched his celebration, a fist pumped into the air and a bright smile that caused a blush to litter your cheeks. In moments like these, you were glad he really had no idea you existed when you weren't standing right in front of him. He high-fived the team members, walking over to the sidelines and throwing a small towel over his shoulder. 

It was honestly a little pathetic the way you couldn't peel your eyes from the way his muscles strained against the spandex of the shirt, or the way the sweat would roll down his perfectly sun-kissed skin. The softness of the genuine smile that pressed against his mouth and up into his eyes, the ones that flirted so effortlessly with his slow and cool mannerisms. 

Genuinely, when he looked so good, it made it hard for you to not drift off into another fantasy, one where he’d walk up to you and sweep you off your feet like a prince in a fairytale…and, he always looked this good. 

You huffed out a breath, one you weren’t even sure if you were holding or not, and crossed your legs over one-another. You narrowed your eyes (in some weird attempt at zooming in), swearing you could see the man of your dreams—and reality—walking in your direction. 

He flashed a devilish smile, you weren’t convinced was meant for you, breaking from the teammates he’d been walking with. his eyes met yours, and for a moment you thought you were asleep—or dead. 

frankly, you think this scenario would suit a chuckle from the athlete who watched your eyes go wide as he further approached.

he took a long drink from the bottle in his hand, holding said eye contact as he lightly swallowed. you mimicked him with a dry throat, admiring how his adamsapple bobbed with each gulp. 

he straddled the bench, setting his things between his open thighs. “y/n?” he asked as he raked a hand through his sweaty hair. you couldn’t look away, like a must-watch thriller that you’d spent your hard earned money on. you could feel the way your heart rattled your ribcage, just aching to escape and feel his against it. 

an audible hum left your lips in reply. you could feel the heat that radiated your features and spread throughout your body. and, you knew, despite opposition, that he could see its pink shade.  

the one-sided tension was suffocating. you shifted uncomfortably—or maybe in some desperate attempt to ease the ache—and clasped your hands together. then, once again, he smiled at you. your heart didn’t know whether to shatter or melt in the presence, which you’ve only been able to see up close a couple of times. 

“your place or mine?” 

you wouldn’t have believed the way your eyes could grow three-sizes larger than they already had previously. 

“w-what?” you choked out. 

he chuckled at your flustered state. “ms. park posted the partners for the group-projects.” he stated matter-of-factly. “and, guess what class president?” you all but asked what; gulping loudly, tensing your legs together, as well as your fingers and lips. “we’re partnered.” 

you wanted to play it cool, but the excitement at the revelation was fast-approaching. you’d never had the opportunity to see him outside of school—and granted, it was still over school-work but, a win was still a win in your book. 

“o-oh!” you ragged out along with a shaky breath. “right, i was waiting until after practice to ask you about it.”

you lied.

you had no idea that the groups were announced. you just spent your free-time on this bench pretending to do work often enough that it seemed reliable.

his eyebrows rose, like he could see right through your antics. it was honestly a little intimidating; or maybe that’s not exactly the right word to describe the feeling hot-spotted in you.

he glanced back at the field momentarily, watching the rest of his teammates leave the outlined grass. “whatever you say, class president, but i knew exactly where to find you… except on wednesdays.” the undertone was something you couldn’t read, just out of your depth, but still plunged you further into curiosity. “we’ll go to my place then, and i’ll shower while you get started. how’s that sound? practice is done anyways.”

you wanted to protest his offer, but there was something intoxicating about seeing his room and smelling the cologne that lingered in the air. the shampoo and body wash that would waft out to you. you’d dreamt about it, and simply, you wanted to see if it was anything like the picture you painted in your head.

“i can just meet you later—you can shower in peace.” you started to pull the phone from the bag at your side, opening it, and holding it in his direction. “maybe, in like two hours?”

he took hold of the machinery. “what’s the fun in that? you could’ve joined me if you got too bored.”

you laughed painfully, shifting once again at the heat between your thighs. you wanted to accept the offer more than anything, however you know you shouldn’t.

but, what was the fun in that?

“a shame.” he chuckled lightly, holding the phone back out to you after inputting his number and texting himself the address. “i’ll see you then, y/n.”

it was the exact house number you were now staring at, eyes shifting between the text on your screen and the apartment door. it had been a little over two-hours, you having to hype yourself up before you left. and you had decided to relax by taking a bath as well, getting a little carried away with your imagination—which ultimately caused you to be late as well—but, you didn’t think delinquent-athlete, sunwoo, would care all too much.

“you could’ve knocked,” you hadn’t realized the door was now open, revealing the dimly lit (because the curtains were closed and it was approaching 6pm) living space. “or called.”

“s-sorry. i wasn’t sure if this was the right place.” you watched as he moved aside, creating just enough room for you to brush past him, giving you an oh-so desired smell of his cologne.

you cursed yourself for getting so worked up over the little things he’d do, but now you were finding it hard to believe that that wasn’t his intention. he kept you coming back for more, and you were always eager.

“do you want any water?” he asked, watching your frame stand awkwardly in his living room. “my rooms over there, i have a couple of things for you.”

you choked again. “f-for me?”

he laughed. “to use on the poster, y/n.” and he mumbled something after that you weren’t able to catch.

your head panned as he walked to the kitchen, ears listening to the light rattle of glass cups and running water. you plastered your hands to one another politely, scanning over the couple pictures sunwoo did have laying about; his apartment only had the necessities. the few pictures were ones of a younger girl, who you assumed to be his little sister—who he obviously loved enough to display. but you thought there must’ve been more to them, to him, and deep down you knew you’d like to find out one day; to comfort him in his time of need. to be his.

sunwoo came back, two glasses in his hands as he motioned for the closed door on your left. “you can open it, i’ve got nothing to hide from you.”

you don’t know why those words made you blush, maybe it’s because they’re from him, and anything from the athlete is enough to send you reeling.

your hand trembled as it reached to the knob. “oh, okay.” you said, trying to block it with your body. “i was thinking we could start with reading the book a little bit more, to familiarize ourselves with the data before making the final draft. that’s if you don’t mind?”

the door swung against its hinges, making the site of a dark, but minimalistic room meet your view. you took in the smell of cologne, but it didn’t seem to be overpowering like he had just sprayed it around carelessly. his bed was neatly made, black sheets and black pillows placed meticulously: as if a house keeper had been around to do it for him.

he placed the glasses against the wood of his nightstand, a charger and lamp being the only other decor on it.

he pressed the lamp and illuminated the room just a little more. “not confident, class president?”

“that’s not it,” you blurted out, his brows knit and arms crossed as he awaited your explanation. you could barely look in his direction, biting your tongue to not say: i just get flustered enough to forget around you.

“i, uh, it’s just that… nevermind. let’s begin!”

he huffed out another laugh, his actions too fast for you to process as his hands met your shoulders, pushing you to sit on his bed.

your eyes seemed to be in a perpetually widened state, but you found it telling that you put up no protest. the bag on your back made it into your lap, and you unzipped it, taking out multiple pens, markers and whatnot to make a decent poster. sunwoo had grabbed a paper, putting it on the floor and holding out his book for you to take. your hands brushed as you accepted it, and it sent a shiver up your spine.

you began to lay a couple of your class-taken notes onto his bedding, and sunwoo made his way around to the other side. he plopped down onto his stomach, making you bounce slightly.

“you know, class prez, people think you’re scary. you’re always studying, you barely look up, and when you do it’s to tell people off because they’re interrupting said studying.” you tried to read over the notes, but found it hard to ignore the harmonies within his voice. and that your leisure-clothes were getting too warm around your skin. “but they don’t know you, i guess. you’re smart but i bet you know how to have, at least, a little fun, don’t you? and, it’s no secret the school thinks your looks are top-tear. it’s just a shame you reject everyone that asks you out. it’s a waste of your time, i presume. anyways, that’s enough. let’s get started, shall we?”

“w-why?” you asked in such a hushed breath that sunwoo barely heard it. and if he lived with anyone else, or if a car or plane went by at the perfect time, he wouldn’t have. “why is that a shame?”

“because you are beautiful, y/n.”

fuck your clothes, your skin was getting too hot against you. your breath was labored, and now the words on the paper were congregating. you couldn’t focus with sunwoo next to you, and that’s exactly what you feared.

why’d you have to ask? curiosity did kill the cat.

the way you shifted didn’t go unnoticed by the athlete and he let out a chuckle that should just be his signature at this point.

he sat up now, burning his eyes into the side of your head. “what’s wrong, y/n?” he asked, but you refused to look away from the notes, even if you couldn’t get your mind to read them. “has no one ever called you that before?”

you bit your lip, thumbs ripping at the skin around the nail. truthfully, yes, one person has called you that, but it didn’t feel the same as when he did it. sunwoo made your heart beat out of your chest, breath leave your lungs so fast it made you lightheaded. he made you weak in the knees, like you were just jelly to begin with, melting in the sun.

you felt a soft hand reach across you, taking the farthest cheek within his palm and focusing your vision towards himself.

his skin felt like fire against you, but even this smallest touch made you crave more, made you need him in a more than innocent way. and, you were starting to believe his intentions were exactly the same as yours.

your eyes finally focused at the feeling on his hand sliding to rest against the side of your neck, as if he was caressing it, running his thumb over your windpipe gently.

you’d never seen sunwoo so close to your face, but you had imagined it, and it was nothing in comparison. he was beyond beautiful, a sight to see: tan skin untainted by pores and blemishes, soft features like his lips that contradicted, but complimented shaper ones such as his eyes and nose. he was the perfect harmony in your opinion, the perfect—

“god, y/n. i must be crazy.” he broke you from your admiration, breath hitting your lips. “would you treat me any different from the guys who have asked you out in the past?”

god, yes.

your stomach was beyond knots now, the whole damn zoo being let loose. your hands were gripping the sheets at the anticipation that seemed to be agonizing enough to kill you where you sat. in reality, sunwoo wasn’t even doing anything, but he had you at his fingertips, and you weren’t convinced you couldn’t pass out right now.

“fuck, maybe i am crazy…” his eyes flicked to your lips momentarily. “do you want this? i know i’d be interrupting your studying, class president.”

and you don’t know where your confidence came from, but the way you closed the gap was desperate. however, sunwoo put up no protest, and quickly gained control over the situation.

his other palm pulled you by your cheek to deepen the kiss. well, that was until he had enough of the angle you were sat at and gripped your thigh to fully get you onto his bed.

he was a good kisser, a great one in fact, and it made you crave his lips in other places to experience the full effect.

now he was pushing your body by your lower back, trying to get you as close to him a possible, and as if you could read minds, you threw your leg over him to straddle his lap.

he broke the kiss. “good girl.” he said before reconnecting with the skin on your neck, and smiling against it when he heard you whine quietly. you could feel him growing hard underneath you, and wondered if he’d take this all the way, wondered if he wanted you like that. “you do want this, don’t you?”

inside your head you couldn’t help thinking that maybe you weren’t desirable, maybe he was only doing this to prove a point: that the whole school was within his grasp. maybe it was to brag tomorrow, as locker room chatter before soccer practice, because why would sunwoo like you outside of your delusions?

his arms caged you against him, stoping all minor movements and actions. he looked into your eyes, and for a moment it’s like the world had ceased. the only thing you could hear was the thumping within your own chest and the echoes of your doubts.

“do you want me, sunwoo?”

he kissed your lips gently—almost lovingly—before stating. “more than anything right now.”

and you wanted to ask if it was only right now that he wanted you, but you couldn’t will that to leave your lips, as his eyes locked onto your own, mixing like watercolor.

you’d wanted him to want you for a long time, so you hoped it wasn’t only now that he felt the same.

“are you okay?”

your palms now laid against his cheeks, biting your bottom lip, half-nervously and half from feeling his hands curve where the seams of your thighs met the underside of your ass. you pulled him quickly back to you, breaking away only to mumble a quiet yes before being fully taken over by your lust.

he flipped you over quickly, and you found comfort between his soft pillows and blanket. he pushed your thighs apart, slotting himself in between to attach back on your already swollen lips.

his voice came out in a hushed tone, only for you. “class prez, has anyone had you like this? have they seen how perfect you look with messy hair and puffy lips? i bet you’d look so cute crying, wouldn’t you?” you whimpered at the words—the thought—you wanted him to think you were cute, attractive in any way, it was human nature after all; and everything about this was primal. “how far do you want me to go?”

your voice was once again barely audible over your own heartbeat. “whatever you want.”

“yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

you were beginning—ignoring all previous warnings—to feel overwhelmed, his tongue sending you into overdrive. you didn’t know what to do as you felt him ghost his lips on your collar bone, then down over your chest, eventually landing at your stomach. he pushed the fabric up, latching down onto your hip bone, which had you shifting to get any sort of friction on your core.

all his minuscule teasing was actually beginning to feel painful, but he got the hint. you knew he would.

sunwoo grabbed at the waistband on your pants, looking up to you for reassurance, but you just lifted your hips to make it easier for him. he chuckled, pulling both of the fabrics blocking you from him down.

you heard him mumble something along the lines of pretty as he placed open-mouth kisses against your inner thighs.

one thing about sunwoo is that he left you no room to feel self-conscious or embarrassed. he knew how to love you right, (you didn’t want to know why that was) and was determined to show you that.

you might not have believed this was something more than locker-room chatter, but now…

you moaned when he finally attached to your aching clit, sucking gently before alternating between kissing and licking at your slit. your hand covered your mouth out of embarrassment at the sounds that you couldn’t stop from making. truthfully, the last (and only) guy you were with didn’t even make you finish, so you didn’t have to worry about being too loud—or god forbid, annoying.

but, sunwoo hated that you weren’t letting him hear how good he was doing. he wanted the praise just at much as you did, nonetheless he let you continue. he’d let you until you were completely at his mercy, malleable under his touch. he’d let you because that made you comfortable.

and, to be honest, it still fueled his ego.

“c-close,” you managed to mumble through your fingers, eyes squeezed shut and head lulled back. “woo, please?”

and that fact that you had asked him almost made him cum untouched. so, you were his? he thought to himself, before he groaned into your pussy at the feeling of your fingers attaching to his hair, only adding to your pleasure.

the hands squeezing your plush thighs pulled you closer to his face, close enough to suffocate, but he’d die a happy man.

he continued to eat you out like a starved man, only bedrudgingly pulling away right before you had the chance to properly orgasm.

“w-wait!” you tried to push him back, frantically searching for the edge you were just about to topple off. “w-wh—sunwoo, fuck, d-don’t stop. please.”

tears were pricking your eyes out of frustration—the whole thing being so emotionally and vulnerably charged, you weren’t sure you could hold them back. then, shivers were sent throughout your shaking body as he soothed over your sides and stomach with his hands, lips back to their spot on your thighs.

he propped himself up, staring down at the godly figure he never truly thought you’d let him see. and after a minute, you got embarrassed at the strong gaze on your glistening core; your knees coming together.

his fingers slotted between them, pulling your legs apart. “don’t hide from me, baby. you’re so beautiful—god, all for me, right?”

you whined, quickly sitting up and reaching out for anything he’d give you.

sunwoo kissed your lips again, keeping you at his level with a hand on the small of your back and one gripping the hem of your shirt. you were dizzy from the taste of yourself on him, sunwoo only breaking apart to get the fabric up, and fully over your head. he took off your bra and suddenly the realization that you were fully naked in front of the prized soccer captain, while he was fully clothed, sunk in.

you whined again, too drunk off him to formulate anything coherent. he laughed at how desperately you were pawing at his sweats. “what’s wrong?”

you looked up at him. “fuck me?” and if your eyes weren’t the definition of puppy-dog, he didn’t know what was.

he smiled, grabbing your wrist. “patience, baby. i’ll give you what you want.”

you fell back again, opting to obey him because you were honestly too far gone to come up with anything else to do.

and he did, taking off his sweats, along with the rest of his clothes and pressing his body to yours. his lips were connected back to you and you clawed at his shoulders—anything to ground yourself—while his held your torso down firmly.

he looked between your bodies as he lined himself with your entrance. your head was thrown back, and he pressed a chaste kiss to the middle of your neck before mumbling. “you are pretty when you cry, y/n.” and pushing in slowly.

the stretch only burned for a minute until you moaned almost embarrassingly loud with each shallow thrust. a hand instinctively come up to hide them away. but, that only lasted so long until sunwoo intertwined his fingers with yours, pushing them into the bed on either side of your head.

“don’t hide them, baby,” he sighed against your lips. “please.”

and, whether you wanted to or not, you didn’t have a choice. the noises fell freely from your lips into his shoulder, as he sucked and nipped at your neck again.

“i-is it good?” you could barely hear him, your ears ringing with pleasure; was it good? is he stupid?

you choked on a chuckle, feeling him angle himself just perfectly inside you to brush against your g-spot. “holy fuck,”

“right there, baby?” he did it again, taking notes and storing them away in the back of his mind. your head lulled back again, and he watched your face contort, mouth falling open. “does it feel good?” you couldn’t reply, his thrusts only getting harder after that.

you could feel the band in your stomach tightening, and you feared you wouldn’t even be able to tell him you were getting so close, so fast—too fast.

but, somewhere deep-down, he already knew.

“fuck, you feel so good, y/n.” he sighed, lips ghosting over yours. “i must be the luckiest man in the world, right?” it was rhetorical, but even if you felt the need to answer, all that was coming out of your mouth was moans, groans, and mewls. “perfect body—fuck—perfect personality, perfect pussy, perfect fucking mouth,” he grabbed your chin, your free hand now going to clutch into the skin on his arm. his eyes met your tear-filled, and blurry ones. “open your mouth,”

there was a fire within you when you did as he said, mouth falling open. he spat on your tongue, and you didn’t know whether you came right then or just flat-out died.

“swallow it,” he said—no, demanded—almost making it an impossible task by putting his fingers into your mouth, pushing them to the back of your throat, and making you gag around him. he felt you clench harder at the act. “gonna fuck this throat one day, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you would.

but, he was spewing heated words into a brick wall. “you’re mine, right?” he asked, taking his saliva-covered fingers from your mouth and bringing them between your bodies.

the moment his fingers landed on your clit, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. the hand that was still intertwined with his was losing circulation from how hard your were gripping it, and the other was scratching his perfect skin hard enough to bleed.

no one had ever made you feel so cold, yet so fucking warm at the same time. nothing you've ever experienced has been as intense and kim sunwoo; the delinquent soccer player. you feared no one could ever make you feel like this again.

so, of course you were his.

“look at me, y/n.” he whispered, kissing along your jaw gently—in contrast to the heavy and hard thrusts he kept at a steady rhythm. “c’mon, y/n, be a good girl. please.”

you felt the impending desire to now, head leveling. his forehead then came to rest against it, fighting off your urge to let it roll back again.

he pecked your lips between sentences. “mine, right?” god, he kept asking an obvious question. “be mine, okay? cum for me,” he circled your clit faster, determined to make you finish one last time. “i got you.”

his voice alone was enough to make you topple over the edge, your noises raising a couple octaves. your vision went white, body convulsing under sunwoo, who kept his eyes on your face the entire time; in awe of you. he fucked you through it of course, mumbling praises, before the overwhelming feeling of fire bloomed between you two; disguised by overstimulation.

you mewled. “woo, p-please stop.” he kissed you quiet, slowing down. but, you didn’t actually want him to stop. “h-hurts… just a little,”

his hand intertwined with yours again. “being such a good girl—taking it so well. just a little more, okay? i promise,” he sighed, feeling the way your walls clenched him in, barely letting him pull out, only causing him to thrust harder. “almost there, y/n, where do you want it?”

your legs caged him against you. “fill me up, please.” and you weren’t above begging for it, especially not in a state of post-euphoria. “cum in me.”

he threw his head back momentarily, fighting off a strong urge to start a second round. how in gods name did he get so lucky? he thought to himself, bringing his forehead back to yours.

he locked eyes onto you. “yeah?” you nodded slightly, eyes full of tears you didn’t know if you’d shed. “gonna be so good and take it all?”

you moaned when he started grinding against you, your clit being stimulated by his pubic-bone.

“could fuck you forever.” he admitted. “do you want me to?”

you spewed out a quiet yes, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was being serious—maybe he was. you were too far gone to even begin guessing.

he kissed you again, desperately fighting your tongue with his. he continued to kiss down your jaw and into your neck, leaving glistening marks in his wake. he sucked on your collarbone, finding a sweet-spot you didn’t even know you had, and biting down for a second. your mouth fell open in a silent scream, an orgasm you didn’t even know was there, washing over you.

sunwoo just kept forcing you to learn about yourself—you guess, it’s a good thing you’ve always been known for studying, isn’t it?

your intense orgasm triggered his, a soft groan leaving his lips as uneven thrusts made sure you both were fully satisfied.

you felt fuzzy, brain completely melted under his touch. your heavy breathing mixed with his, his body fully collapsing from exhaustion. however, his weight wasn’t enough to suffocate you, so you let him stay where he was, breaking your hand from his and threading it into his damp hair.

the silence was loud—heartbeats intertwined—as you both came down, the reality about to set in.

would he push you away after this? did he even mea—

“i meant it, by the way.” your eyebrows creased. you weren’t even sure if you had imagined that. and, if you didn’t feel the rumbling of his chest on yours as he spoke, you might’ve believed it was only in your head. “be mine, okay?”

little did he know, you already were.

you whispered out a reply. “okay.”

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[sohnric]

extra cheesy — e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: pizza boy! eric, very mild childhood friends to acquaintances to friends to lovers au. college au, fluff, the tiniest bit of angst. mutual pining, slowburn, jealous eric, oblivous reader, the whole lot... includes pizza boy! sunwoo and eric's older sister! lisa manoban.

wc: 31k (31.071)

warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mention of throwing up, mentions of jealousy, the reader and eric are the same height bc i wrote this for and about myself, talks about the ex-gifted kid burnout syndrome lol.

listen to: so american - olivia rodrigo, love - wave to earth and stuck with u - ariana grande and justin bieber

being a wingman is not always the easiest task - especially not when your roommate's target is best friends with someone taking your attention away from the main goal.

a/n: thank u so much best friend @csenke for beta reading as always and thank u best friend @from-izzy for hyping me up and listening to me ramble hours upon hours about this fic (oh and also for stepping in as the reader's roommate HAHA).

“Come on, we deserve a little pizza for dinner!” your roommate, Izzy, shakes your arm as she clings to you on the sofa the way she always does when she wants you to do something. And although your dear flatmate isn’t usually the one to order in, much preferring to cook meals at home and save the leftovers for another day, you wouldn’t find her desperation for pizza as strange, if it wasn’t for the batting of her eyelashes and her pleading voice.

Surely, she doesn’t need the pizza that much, right?

“I’m not saying we don’t, I’m just saying I have leftover soup from yesterday that I have to eat tonight or else it’s gonna go bad,” you justify your protests, “but you can get one, if you want. I’m not stopping you,” you say, furrowing your eyebrows at the girl in confusion before reaching for the TV remote.

“Oh come oooon, Y/N,” she pressures, pouting at you in disappointment. More weight is put into your body as she clings to you, acting like a child throwing a tantrum. “You deserve to have delicious pizza for dinner today, because you finally bagged that internship! Isn’t that a reason to celebrate?”

“We can just pop the champagne, if you wanna celebrate–”

“Y/N, can we please just get the pizza tonight?” she turns serious for once, the smile disappearing off her face, replaced by a much more stoic expression. And see, that’s a little scary– desperation can make people do bad, bad things. You’d be a fool to turn down your flatmate’s request– you’d have to sleep with one eye open tonight…

“Okay, fine,” you grunt, shaking your head at her ridiculous antics, “from the usual place?” 

“NO!” the girl chimes, making you jump in your place on the sofa with the loudness of her voice. If she wants to scream, she should move further away from your ear, goddamn it. After sending her a look full of anger, she offers you an apologetic one before she reaches for her laptop resting on the coffee table in front of you, opening it and pressing in a new Google search. “There’s this place I found with Yizhuo after class one day,” she says, scrolling through the browser and finding the site of the place she wants to order from today, “and they make pretty good pizza. So just choose one and then I’ll put it through the online order.”

“They have online orders?” you hum, interested. “Twenty-first century, this is. Online shopping for pizza…” you snicker, shaking your head in disbelief. Maybe you’re getting old– and it’s not like you don’t enjoy the comfort this gives you, not at all, you just find it a little strange to order food over the internet. What happened to phone calls?

“Yes, grandma,” Izzy sighs, “that’s like, a normal thing, I fear.”

Rolling your eyes at her irony, you scan the menu before deciding on your usual– margherita, extra cheesy. After pointing your finger at the pizza of your choice, your roommate takes it upon herself to add the meal to her cart (while also adding one she likes as well) before she proceeds further with the order. Your eyes stay glued to her, interested in the way this whole thing works– because let’s be real, ordering a pizza without having social interaction is every introvert’s dream– and watch as she hesitantly clicks onto the “add a note to your order” section of the website.

Confusion fills your veins as you stare your roommate down. What more could she possibly need for this order? Does she not just want to eat? Does she need her pizza sliced in a special way, or does she want the pepperoni in the shape of a flower, or something? You really wouldn’t be surprised, with how peculiar Izzy could get sometimes, but still– wasn’t she the one mourning about how hungry she was just a few minutes ago? Surely, she would want her food to get here the fastest it can, with no additional requests that would take up too much time.

“Don’t say anything,” she mumbles as she starts typing, and finally, it all starts to make sense.

The desperation in her voice. The determination. The need to have a pizza tonight, right now. Because after reading out the words she’s written down, you realize that it was never about the pizza itself in the first place. Knowing Izzy, you should’ve known– after the months of sharing an apartment with her, you should’ve been able to predict her antics.

There, proud, black on white, shine five words saying: Send your cutest delivery boy :)

“Izzy what the fuck–”

“I told you not to say anything!” she cuts you off, clicking through the rest of the order hurriedly, as if worried you were going to make her delete her embarrassing request.

“Okay, miss, ‘I don’t chase no man!’, I see that you’re living up to your motto. What? You ate there with Yizhuo last week and saw a cute guy doing deliveries, so you thought you’d drag him to our house instead of asking for his number like a normal person?” you grunt, shaking your head at the lengths your roommate is willing to go to– while also making her own life twice as complicated as it needs to be.

“Well, pretty much, yeah,” she peeps as she closes the laptop after paying for your pizzas– you’re not paying her back, just for the record. Not after she just publicly embarrassed you by making that stupid request with your address attached. 

“Are you crazy?” you scoff. “Why didn’t you just talk to him back there?”

“He was busy!” she mourns. “Look, this is me shooting my shot. You’re getting a pizza out of it, so I don’t see the problem here.”

“The problem is you doing all of this when you could’ve literally just walked up to him last week and introduced yourself,” you say, watching your roommate physically crumble under your scolding, but truthful words.

Izzy slides down further into the sofa, as if to shield herself from the attack. She puts her hands over her face, hiding the blush on her cheeks as she mourns into the silent apartment. “Look, I was shy, okay?” she says.

“But not shy enough to be so bold over the internet, huh?” you mock her, feeling your roommate’s hand slap your upper arm in frustration.

“You should’ve seen him, Y/N! There was no way I was going to walk up to him after the whole day I spent at uni. I looked like a dead rat, that’s not how you pull men,” she mutters. “And he looked so perfect, so adorable, it’s… I keep thinking about him and his plump lips and his dark messy hair, and he was so tall and–”

“Okay, okay,” you cut her off, a hint of annoyance tinting your tone. “I’ll see him with my own two eyes in a bit anyway,” you comment, “if he’s really the cutest out of them, as you requested,” you snicker. 

“He is! I swear. There is no way he isn’t going to appear on our doorstep in a few minutes, trust me.”

Little did the two of you know that you caused havoc on the other side of the town. It was a slow day in Sohn’s Pizza, leaving the two part-timers on duty scrolling through their phones, awaiting any new customers. It was the middle of the week, 2 hours before their closing, and so the sound of the new online order coming in surprised the two boys, having the owner’s son sit up from his place in the corner of the room and click through the system.

“Dad, it says one extra cheesy margherita and one pepperoni!” Eric yells out into the kitchen, followed by a loud acknowledging hum from the cook himself. Sunwoo looks up from under his chocolate bangs, pausing the game he’s been playing on his phone, licking his lips.

“Do you wanna go?” he asks, obviously too lazy to move from the pizzeria. See, the two part-timers had many responsibilities. One wasn’t just a delivery man or just the server. Because Eric’s father didn’t really trust anyone with his business, he relied only on the people closest to him– which caused this place to operate mostly as a family business. Sunwoo only got the job because he was Eric’s longest friend, and that made the Sohn family consider him as one of them. 

That meant the pizzeria was almost always short on staff, though– which was a problem Eric complained to his dad about more often than not, being too busy with deliveries and also wiping down the tables, serving the customers and helping with the sides. The poor boy already learned that his dad won’t do anything about it from the sheer discomfort of having to go through the hiring process with anyone, though, and so after a while, he just stopped trying.

“I dunno,” he shrugs, eyes scanning the order. “It has a note, though.”

“What does it say?” Sunwoo asks, voice barely coated in any interest. Eric would argue that the boy doesn’t really care, but is just asking to seem mentally present.

“Send your cutest delivery boy, smiley face,” Eric hums, snickering to himself. Now, that’s a request he hasn’t gotten before– and the pizzeria has been open for quite some time now.

“Oh, so I’m going,” Sunwoo says, already standing up from his place in the camping chair behind the counter even though the order isn’t ready yet, full confidence flowing through the man’s veins.

“Didn’t you just ask me if I’m going?” Eric jokes, eyes darting towards his coworker.

“Yeah, but that was before I saw the note,” Sunwoo scoffs, “we obviously don’t want our customers to be unhappy, so I’m going to do my job, and as the cutest one, go deliver these pizzas.”

“Where did the confidence come from?” Eric clicks his tongue. “Well, that being said, I am going to deliver these.”

“So you think you’re cuter than me?” Sunwoo looks at his friend with a stern face, and to be honest, it’s kind of funny how serious the matter is for the boys. They would both blame the 8 hour shift getting to their brains, but in reality, it’s clear as day that they both want to win this argument. 

“I’d say so,” Eric nods. “Didn’t you say you were more sexy than cute the other day?” 

Sunwoo looks at his friend suspiciously. He doesn’t really remember the full context of the conversation, but he does remember stating the fact– and although he’d argue it’s true, he also doesn’t want to lose to Eric. Because look– the job is taking up the majority of the boys’ time, so looking for a girlfriend has gotten severely more difficult. 

Why not take the opportunity at work? And besides, everything is more entertaining than sitting around and waiting for the place to close for the day.

“I did,” Sunwoo carefully admits, “but that was more to do with the general attractivity. I’d say those two go hand in hand, and therefore me, as the objectively more desirable one, should go deliver these.” 

Eric blinks slowly at his friend, trying to process the self-absorbed words spilling out of the taller one’s mouth. “Are you calling me ugly right now?”

“No–”

“I’m pretty sure you just called me ugly.”

“I would never–”

“I’d say I’m the cuter one,” Eric snaps back, shrugging. “I have this aura around me–”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous. You know the note was obviously for me, so why don’t we stop this and you let me make this delivery? You can always do the next one–”

The argument is growing more heated. Who would’ve thought such a simple note would lead to two men trying to advertise themselves as the cuter one? The room is filled with testosterone, although the objective of the fight was somewhere completely else– the question was who the cuter one was, and if they had to be truthful, they had to go with facts, no?

Small things are cute. Eric is shorter than Sunwoo. Logically, it should be him– but he won’t say this comment out loud in fear of carrying the burden of admitting to his laughable height in front of his spiteful friend’s ears. 

“How can you tell it was for you?” Eric scoffs. The arguments were starting to get ridiculous.

“It was the energy, I swear, the note is calling for me–”

“Boys, the pizzas are ready!” the voice of Eric’s dad calls from the kitchen, making both of them snap their heads towards the source and hurry. Never in a thousand years have either of them reacted to an order so quickly– not even in the highest of rushes– when they reach for the two boxes with grabby hands, like it was some sort of a prize.

It felt like everything was on the line. Eric Sohn prides himself in being a fast runner, but when he senses the taller boy breathing down his neck, he breaks all rules of safe workspace and also friendship as he outstretches his leg towards the right, tripping the boy– all to win the title of the cutest delivery boy.

Snatching the pizzas and also the car keys, Eric pays his coworker a victorious smile. Sunwoo glares at him from the ground, breathing heavily, anger roaring inside of his body. Eric finds this as his cue to hurry out before he’s attacked– while he’s a good runner, he was never quite good at combat– and so he jogs out of the pizzeria and unlocks the door to the Honda Civic parked outside, hopping in and typing in the address into the GPS on his phone.

Back over at your place, you try to pass the time by watching the TV. Netflix failed you with its poor selection of things to watch– mainly because you’ve already seen most of the true crime documentaries that you could find– so you just let yourself get pulled into the doom of teleshopping, your brain quickly getting used to the flashing images and over-exaggerated voices advertising the newest sumo slicer. You had a long day at university today– while also finally managing to get the internship with the company you dreamed of working for– and after all of the stress, your brain decided to simply turn off.

You’re only taken out from your trance as the doorbell rings, making you jump slightly at the loud noise. Dinner must be here– your stomach churning at the premise of a good pizza already (you have to give it to Izzy. She was right and you do deserve pizza tonight)– and so you stand up from the sofa in the living room, calling for your roommate.

“Izzy, the pizza’s here! Come get the door if you wanna see the guy!” you yell into the depths of your apartment. 

You get no response. Did she fall asleep? “Izzy!” you call again, this time louder.

“Coming!” you hear her reply. You wait a few seconds, standing in the hall, when the doorbell rings again– after not opening the door for at least 2 minutes, you’re starting to get worried that the delivery man will just turn on his heel and take your pizzas away from you. 

And you can’t let that happen– not when you were finally persuaded into eating them– all because your roommate is seemingly getting ready to open the door and see the newly found love of her life, probably putting on some cute clothes in her room.

“I’m just gonna get it!” you say, reaching for the door handle.

Opening the door, you are met with the sight of a delivery boy standing on the other side, two boxes in his hands, shifting weight from his heel to the tips of his toes. He sends you a soft smile before he raises his eyebrows at you so high they almost touch the red cap adorning his head, opening his mouth to speak.

“Eric?”

“Y/N?”

Both of you shock the other with the recognition. You haven’t seen Eric Sohn since elementary school– and while you must admit that the son of your parents’ friends grew up to be mildly attractive, you must say he hasn’t changed a bit. Now, this whole interaction grew even more embarrassing for you– you completely forgot about the note.

“Hello?” your roommate calls from behind you, walking up to the door in– you guessed it– her finest clothes. She always wears this outfit out, which makes you roll your eyes at her. She is trying too hard. And for whom? Eric Sohn, of all people?

“Izzy, here’s the cutest delivery boy you asked for,” you awkwardly say, trying to save your face. You won’t allow her to embarrass you like this– yes, you are completely content with throwing her under the bus in this situation. This is the boy you were forced to hang out with the whole entirety of elementary school, after all. You won’t let her humiliate you by making him believe it was you who found him so attractive.

Because let’s face it– he wasn’t. Well… 

Maybe he was and you’re lying to yourself. But still– you won’t let him think you’d be so pathetic to shoot your shot by an online order. The boxes in his hands have Sohn’s pizza written all over them– maybe you should’ve paid more attention to the name of the pizzeria you were ordering from. 

“Ah,” Izzy hums, and something in her composure shifts. Her shoulders drop and her smile dims– and that’s when you realize Eric is not the delivery boy she was hoping for. You have to laugh at her.

Izzy makes no effort to move or take the pizzas from the boy’s hands, and that’s when you take charge. Sighing at her, you move her out of the way before you send Eric an apologetic smile, freeing him off your order. “Thank you for the pizzas,” you say, watching as the delivery boy nods at you, offering you an awkward smile.

You push the boxes into Izzy’s hands, ordering her with your eyes to take them into the kitchen. As she slowly moves out of the hall and disappears into the apartment, you face the boy again, still standing at your doorstep. You scan him all over– from the top of his red cap that’s hiding his honey blonde locks to the black cargo pants covering his legs– before you nod to yourself, the awkward atmosphere making you tense under his gaze.

“Uhm…” you hum, not really knowing what else to say to diffuse the atmosphere. This is embarrassing. This is humiliating. Why did your dumb roommate do this? 

Now she got the poor boy disappointed. Couldn’t Izzy at least act like he’s the one?

“Well, I’ll.. see you around, I guess…?” Eric says, nodding to himself. He scratches the back of his neck as he looks at you– one short glance up and down that doesn’t go unnoticed by you, making you instantly regret getting the door in your sweatpants and the pink socks with hearts and a single hole on the toe on them– before he takes a step back from the doorstep and starts walking away from your apartment.

“Yeah,” you clear your throat, mentally punching yourself with how pathetic you sound, “see you around. And… and thank you again! For the pizzas, I mean…” you hum. Now, you’re mentally kicking yourself. Scratch that, you’re throwing yourself down the stairs. Why are you so awkward? You’re only making it worse.

He flashes you a smile, not oblivious to the shame you feel. If you really think about it, the situation is kind of funny, isn’t it? 

“Bye, Y/N,” he says, waving at you as he walks down the stairwell, sending you one last glance over his shoulder.

“Yeah, bye!”

Closing the door behind you, you try to take deep breaths to steady yourself. You will murder your roommate with your own two hands and use her blood as the sauce for your pizza. Slowly walking towards the kitchen, you see Izzy munching on the pepperoni slice, sending you a look full of innocence.

“Well, that didn’t work out,” she says, trying to make light of the situation, ignoring how embarrassing this situation was for both parties involved. Without a word, you sit down at the table, opening the box of your pizza of choice, taking a bite. 

“Are you okay? You seem a bit–”

“Shut it.”

“How was it, bubs?” Izzy asks you once you get into the car while simultaneously reaching for the volume button on the radio, turning the music down so she can hear you talk.

“Terrible,” you mourn, sighing as you buckle your seatbelt and watch your roommate back out of the parking lot. She was nice enough to offer to drive you home after your first day of your new mandatory internship, and although you told her over and over how you didn’t need a ride and could just walk home after, you’re actually very grateful for her act of kindness now– for your feet hurt like a bitch and you’re so mentally tired you think you could get lost on your way home, had you not paid enough attention.

“That bad?” she hums, voice full of consideration. Izzy only pays you a short look full of undeniable worry before she gazes back at the road– thankfully, because she is not the best driver and you think her not paying full attention to where she’s going would significantly lower the chances of you getting home safely today– subtly allowing you to vent about the day you had.

A grunt escapes your mouth. “Yeah,” you agree, “it’s just– god. The place is full of morons, my boss is demanding a marketing project from me until the end of my internship, everyone keeps using me as their coffee delivery person because I’m new, and I forgot everyone’s names already…” you complain, furrowing your brows in concern. How are you going to survive going there weekly?

As a business student, you have to go through an internship in order to successfully graduate. Getting one was already hard enough, but the responsibilities that come with doing all the stuff you’re not even educated enough to do yet are only making the weight on your shoulders heavier and heavier to the point where you suddenly start to doubt if you’re even good enough for your major. Hell, you barely have any interest in it in the first place– hence why you lack the enthusiasm your boss would surely love to see from you.

“Can’t they just not make it easier for you?” she shakes her head in disapproval. “You’re a mere student, not the new hire,” Izzy grunts, sympathizing with you.

“Apparently not,” you roll your eyes. “I’m so tired, man…” you sigh, resting your head against the window, letting your eyes close for a bit. “Thanks for giving me a ride, Izz.”

“No worries,” she innocently replies. Almost too innocently, you think– but with the amount of hours you slept last night and the mental overload of new information you had today, you choose to not pay much attention to it. Maybe you’re just making it up…

If the drive was a bit longer, you’re sure you would’ve fallen asleep. The car comes to a halt in a few more minutes, though, and the sudden silence of the vehicle as the engine turns off and the radio goes silent has you opening your eyes, scanning your surroundings.

And you were right. Izzy was almost too nice in giving you a ride home. You should’ve known she always had different motives.

“Why are we here?” you ask, choosing not to face her so you don’t have to look at the dumb smile on her face again, for you think that if she dared to force innocence on herself right now, you’d seriously punch her.

“Oh,” she hums, “I thought we could get pizza for dinner.”

“We had pizza last week,” you deadpan, tone of voice only a bit hostile.

“That’s correct,” she agrees, “however, I am in the mood for some pizza right now. And we don’t really have any groceries at home, so I think this is the best alternative to end your bad day–”

“You’re not dragging me in there after embarrassing us so much last week, Isabelle,” you grunt, pulling out the full name to act more tough and get your point across. “I am never going there again. You simply can’t force me–”

“Oh come on! You’re ruining all fun.”

“That’s because I am not having fun right now,” you note, already too tired after the long day.

“Then let me cheer you up! I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about it,” Izzy glares at you, sighing. “Besides, the last time I checked, you owe me pizza, and I would like to redeem that now.”

“Since when–”

“Don’t think I forgot that you didn’t pay me back last time,” she cuts you off, sending you a stern look.

If you were closer to home right now, you would’ve left the car and just walked back to your apartment, leaving your dear flatmate to get her pizza alone. You both know you’re not here for the pizza itself anyway– so why does she need you there? As an excuse? It’s already embarrassing enough for the both of you. Why won’t she just drop it?

But since the circumstances are given the way they are– you’re tired, hungry, frustrated and full of worry about your internship– you figure there is really no need to argue with your roommate right now. When she sets her mind on something, she is going to get it, no matter what. You know her well enough.

“Fine,” you sigh, getting out of the car and slamming the passenger door with as much force as you can humanly conjure in yourself after the long day, satisfaction flowing through your veins at the sound that’s loud enough to make your roommate jump in surprise.

You’re going to give her what she wants, but you’re not going to act happy about it. You’re just gonna get the pizza and leave. That’s the plan.

Walking up to the building of Sohn’s Pizza, you push the door open, ears instantly catching the low music coming from speakers situated in the corners of the room. You haven’t been here before, so you take your sweet time looking around– noticing the neat-looking interior, admiring the wooden furniture– before you walk towards the table in the corner of the middle-sized restaurant, sitting down. Izzy follows you like a lost puppy with its tail wagging because she got what she wanted before she sits down opposite of you, offering you a giant smile. She is like a kid under the Christmas tree with the toy she always desired securely in her grasp. Which is weird– the cute delivery boy hasn’t even shown up yet.

After scanning the menu for a bit– since you already know what you’re going to get– a server walks up to your table, a big, welcoming smile on her face. She is short even when wearing heels, hair pulled up into a ponytail, straight-across bangs sitting on her forehead. It’s been years since you last saw her, but the resemblance is undeniable– it’s Eric Sohn’s older sister.

“Hello! What can I get for you today, girls?” she asks as she takes out a notepad. Her eyes land on you for a bit before she gasps, even a bigger smile appearing on her cheeks, if that’s possible. “Oh my god, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you nod, grinning. “It’s me.”

“How are you?” she asks, beaming. You and Lisa were never really close– since she was so much older than you back when you hung around the Sohn’s house, but she was always really kind to you. You remember her making snacks for you and Eric to eat in afternoons or taking you two out to get ice cream, your heart squeezing at the nostalgic memories.

“I’m good, what about you?” you ask, genuinely interested.

“I’m fine,” she nods. “Well, just rotting in here, if I’m being honest, but other than that, I’ve been good,” she laughs, making you mirror her actions.

“Well, it’s really pretty here, if that makes you feel any better,” you smile.

She shrugs at your compliment. “I did most of the decorating, so it should be,” she snickers before she looks back at you after scanning over the entire room. “What will you get today, then?”

“Just a margherita is fine,” you note, “could I possibly get extra cheese on that?” 

“Anything for little Y/N,” she hums, making you roll your eyes at her teasing– yet the grin never leaves your features. “And for your friend?”

“I’ll get pepperoni,” she peeps. It’s unusual for your roommate to be so quiet in a conversation– you guess she was caught off guard at your sudden acquaintanceship with the staff in her new favorite restaurant.

“Coming right up!” Lisa smiles, walking away from your table.

After the server leaves, you are left with a few seconds of silence from your roommate. You raise your brows at her in question, mocking her change in demeanor, waiting for her to get back to her usual, chatty self. “What?”

“You know her?”

“Obviously,” you snicker. “Our families used to be close years ago,” you note, shrugging.  “We lived in the same neighborhood.”

“Wow…” she hums. “So you know that guy who dropped our pizzas off last week as well?”

“I do,” you nod. “We are the same age, so our mums forced us to hang out often.”

“Interesting….” Izzy says, lost in thought. If you didn’t know better, you’d suspect she was scheming something up. Actually, you think you know her well enough– just give it a few more minutes.

The door opens again, making you two look around and watch the people coming into the restaurant. Instead of new customers, you are met with two men obviously wearing work uniforms– white shirts with a pizza logo in red on them– the shorter one with a cap on, the taller one with baggy jeans adorning his long legs. You recognise one of them instantly– and even despite the nature of the restaurant, his presence still shocks you and makes you feel alarmed.

You feel something come in contact with your shin as your roommate kicks your leg under the table. “That’s him, that’s him, that’s him–” Izzy chimes, whispering, making you furrow your brows at her in question. Yeah, of course that’s him. Eric’s dad owns the restaurant. Who the other guy by his side is, though, you don’t–

oh.

So that must be the cute delivery boy your roommate has been thirsting over for the last couple of weeks. She has a lot of determination in her, you’ll give her that. If it was you, you would’ve forgotten about a random mediocrily attractive server after a day or two. Not her, though. What a strange woman…

“Y/N!” you hear for the second time today. Your heart skips a beat at the tone this time, making you remember the events of last week, heat instantly creeping up your neck at the memory.

“Hi,” you peep, watching as the two men make a bee-line towards your table.

“Hello,” he greets. He wears a bright smile on his face– one that makes his cheeks look fuller, something in his eyes glimmering (you think it might just be the reflection of the lights). He is wearing a blue cap today, covering his honey locks– which leaves you wondering if he has a fucked haircut, or if he really just likes to wear hats that much– but other than that, his attire is the same as last time. “What’s up?” he asks.

Casual. Friendly. Like nothing happened– like this whole encounter isn’t totally embarrassing. 

Or is it not? Are you just being overly-dramatic again? You really don’t know at this point. 

Still, you act nonchalant. “Oh, not much,” you hum, “just got off my first day of internship, so we decided to get some pizza to comfort myself.”

“Didn’t go well?” Eric asks, a sympathetic look on his face. Somehow, his concern seems genuine.

“You could say that,” you note, shrugging.

“It will be better next time,” he says lightly, smiling at you all encouragingly. For the first time in the last couple of seconds, you pay attention to your roommate again– seeing her eyes glued to the taller boy. If this was a cartoon, there would be hearts drawn in her sockets and she would be drooling. Izzy seems to be totally enchanted with the delivery boy currently standing to Eric’s right, and you can’t stand the view any longer.

“Oh, this is Sunwoo, by the way,” Eric says, introducing his coworker. 

“Nice to meet you,” you smile, shaking the boy’s hand. He sends you a boyish grin, greeting you back, before he moves towards your flatmate, holding her hand in his.

“Izzy,” she introduces herself, tone of voice a few octaves higher than usual. “We’re roommates.”

“I gathered as much,” Eric notes– almost a little awkwardly– making your body electrify with a full body cringe. Why can’t he just pretend last week didn’t happen?

“Yeah,” you hum, nodding and scratching the back of your neck. “She pretty much dragged me here, haha…” you vocalize the laughter as a word, mentally slapping yourself. Haha? What’s so funny? Y/N, you’re only making it worse.

“Well, it’s nice seeing you again,” Eric says. When your eyes meet, he averts his gaze, an awkward cough battling its way out of his throat. “Uhm… we better get back to work, or else my sister’s gonna kill me–”

“Oh, but it’s not busy!” Izzy suddenly utters out, making you snap your head towards her with shock, a look worthy of many words burning a hole into the middle of her forehead. What is she thinking? “Why don’t you sit with us for a while? It seems like you and Y/N have a lot to catch up on,” your roommate sweetly says, throwing the burden onto your shoulders again. 

Why are you suddenly forced into the role of a wingman? You really didn’t sign up for this.

“Oh, I–”

“I could use a little break,” Sunwoo grins, not even waiting for his coworker to immediately deny the idea. You swear you can mentally hear your roommate's excited squealing on a telepathic frequency as the dark-haired boy takes a seat right next to her, sprawling his legs wide and resting his back against the chair, seemingly tired. “Come on, Eric. Lisa has a soft spot for me, she won’t eat our heads off.”

Eric meets your gaze. You hope your brains match at frequencies with the boy as well as you send him mental apologies, the atmosphere once again getting too awkward for you to handle. He seems to be the victim of his friend’s terrorizing strategies as much as you are, though, so you think there is silent understandment hanging in the air over the two of you as he reluctantly sits on the chair next to you.

You’re starting to think Izzy has a death wish. You’re also starting to be fairly certain that you will be the one to fulfill it.

The passage of time is weird. It’s a strange construct to you, finding yourself dwelling on it at times when it’s the least suitable to– especially when you have things to do and a workload to get through. See, it’s incredibly bizarre to you how when you’re doing nothing, time is passing by quickly without you even noticing it: a few episodes of your favorite TV show go by and you’re suddenly well into the evening. When you’re working on assignments, though, it seems like time has stopped. 

You promised yourself you’re going to stay in the library and work on the project you were assigned in your internship until at least 6PM. You arrived at 3 o’clock– three hours should be easy, right? Not that much time.

Wrong. Because you swear you’ve been aimlessly searching around the internet and writing things down for at least 10 years now, and it’s only been an hour and you still have two more to go. Time is weird like that. It’s fascinating– at least when you hypnotize the numbers in the right corner of your screen, sucked into the doom of your laptop. Maybe you should’ve taken Physics instead. You’d love to learn about this.

(The fact that this has nothing to do with Physics and everything to do with your focus and attention is a completely invalid argument to you at this moment, so you don’t even let yourself think about it.)

Something finally pulls you out of the hyper focused state that you put yourself in while staring at the time on your screen (as if to mentally push the clock to go faster), and that is a figure moving right opposite of you, resting their hand on the back of a chair.

“Hi,” you hear, making you snap your head up and face the intruder, “can I sit here?”

“Hi…?” you mumble, watching the boy in front of you not wait for your answer as he pulls the chair back and settles his body onto it. He empties his pockets in the true manly fashion– putting his wallet, his phone and his keys onto the wooden table– all while letting you absorb his existence for a bit before you have to react to it some more. 

You spent years not seeing Eric Sohn. Now, you bump into him at least every other week. Strange.

He is wearing a simple white hoodie, his hair now not covered by a cap. You glance over the honey blonde locks, noting to yourself that he does not have a messed up trim, which means he just must like hats a lot. You feel like you should probably say something– start up a conversation– but the shock of seeing him is still settled deep in your bones, stopping you from every attempt.

Looking around the library, you note that it’s half-empty– meaning that Eric could’ve chosen any seat, any other seat in the whole entire place– yet he chose to sit right opposite of you at one of the long tables in the middle of the room. Nodding to yourself as you absorb the information, you open your mouth to say something– anything– before the boy beats you to it, acting in his true, nonchalant casualty.

“What are you working on?” he asks. “I mean… you seemed quite miserable when I arrived, so I assumed it was for the best to take you out of the frozen state before you go crazy,” he jokes, having you close your mouth and awkwardly smile at him.

“Yeah,” you hum, shrugging. “I was mainly just trying to force the time to go quicker with the sheer power of my gaze, but I think it doesn’t work like that…” 

“You set up a timer for yourself?” he asks, laughing.

“Kinda,” you nod. “I knew I had to hold myself accountable and do work, or else I’m going to leave things until the last minute and hate myself even more for not doing anything sooner, so I told myself I’ll work on my assignments until 6, but it’s… easier said than done.”

Eric nods at you, acknowledging your struggle. He takes out his own laptop and presses the power button. As he waits for it to turn on, he looks back at you, his gaze making you nervous. 

It’s not that you don’t like Eric– not at all, you have your fair share of fond memories with the boy when you were little– it’s just that you haven’t seen him in ages, haven’t properly talked to him since you were kids. You know nothing about the man he is right now– aside from the fact that his father owns a pizza place now. You don’t even know what he majors in. Hell, you didn’t even know he went to the same university as you up to this point– which makes everything just a little bit too awkward for you.

How to navigate the conversation? What to talk about? Why does he not just… ignore you? It’s not like the two of you were that close in the first place.

“What do you major in?” he asks. You wonder if it’s sheer politeness, or if he really just wants to know.

“Business,” you say, tone of voice hinting that you’re not really satisfied with your own answer. “I’m actually supposed to be working on a project for my mandatory internship right now.”

“Damn… what is it?” he asks. 

Scratching the back of your neck, you lick your lips before answering. “It’s like… I have to make a pitch about a new product for them to sell. I work in the sales section for Trust, the insurance company, so I have to do a lot of… market research… and then also marketing… it’s… kind of a lot, actually…” you nervously laugh, trying to diffuse the fact that you’re genuinely scared of the very project you were assigned.

Eric stares at you with interest, a look of acknowledgement settling onto his face. “Wow. That sounds hard.”

“I mean, I don’t know…” you shrug. “Maybe I’m just too stupid for this–”

“No you’re not,” the boy instantly cuts you off, shaking your head. “I’d say they just have high demands from you.”

His words do a bit to soothe you. You avoid asking your classmates about their internships in fear of being the only one that’s finding things hard and being overly-dramatic. Talking to someone who doesn’t really have the same experience as you makes things a bit easier– you can complain and they won’t judge, because there’s no way they know how it feels. Eric won’t judge you for finding your business internship hard, because he doesn’t know what it takes– at least not on his own skin. But if you’d complain to your classmate Yeji, for example, she might find it weird– what if your tasks are the easiest thing to do in her eyes?

“Thanks,” you hum. “What do you major in, though?” you ask him, somehow committing to keeping the conversation going for just a little more time.

“Communications,” he laughs. “I just… write a lot of papers, I guess.”

“Ah,” you nod in acknowledgement. 

You feel like you should add something. Maybe you should comment, sympathize, ask more questions, but in the moment, no fitting words reach your mind. After a heartbeat of silence, Eric’s eyes finally leave your figure to focus on his laptop, and the only thing resonating through your brain is the fact that the last two times you met him, it was painfully awkward and maybe a little strange– which leads you to questioning the fact that he still chose to approach you today.

“Look, Eric, we… you don’t have to act like we’re friends now,” you say, refusing to meet his gaze. Somehow, your blank laptop screen is much more interesting. “And I’m sorry about last week,” you note, tone of voice lighthearted– trying to mask how much you actually think about the encounters and how they make you wish they never even happened. Somehow, you worry about how you’re perceived by him. “My roommate just kind of likes your coworker– Sunwoo–” you call him by his name, “so she has been doing all of this to get his attention, and it’s…”

“It’s okay,” Eric laughs, making you glance up from the blank document and finally meet his eyes. There is no stern look on his face, no signs of disappointment or disgust on his features. It helps you calm down a bit. “I’m used to girls being all over Sunwoo, really,” he says, shrugging.

“Yeah…” you sigh. “Sorry for making it all awkward, and stuff. As I said, you don’t have to feel obliged to–”

“I don’t, though,” he hums. The sentiment silences you. You offer him nothing but a nod, suddenly at a loss for words. “Look, we used to be close when we were kids,” he shrugs, “so don’t even worry about it.”

You’re not really sure what his words are meant to imply. Does he mean that you’re friends now again? Does he mean he doesn’t find this whole thing absolutely awkward? Are you supposed to hang out more often now? Do you get his number? 

After trying to clarify everything, you’re left even more confused.

If there’s one thing about Eric Sohn that you remember from your childhood, it’s the fact that he’s friendly. And also… pretty fucking competetive. “It’s almost 4:30. Whoever gives up on their assignment first pays for coffee later, yeah?” he challenges you, looking at you with mischief glimmering in his dark orbs.

You guess both of these qualities stayed with him until adulthood, and although you were awkward with him just a few minutes ago, you don’t really have it in you to overthink the interaction any longer.

“Deal,” you nod.

As if this was all the motivation you needed, you get back to working.

“Jokes on you, drinking is not a forfeit for me,” Jake, the underclassmen you see around the campus sometimes says after a round of spin the bottle in which he refuses to make out with the person to his right (that was friend Sunghoon from middle school, just for the record), “I actually enjoy it. So–”

“You should stop drinking, dude…” the said friend nudges him to his shoulder, looking at the boy with a concerned look in his eye. It’s no secret that both of them are light drinkers, but one of them is clearly handling his alcohol worse– and it’s the shorter one of the two. 

“Why? You wanna make out with me?”

“I’d rather not carry you home again, that’s all–”

“That sounds a bit sus, Hoon–” Jake snickers before he downs the shot of whatever alcohol is passed to him, “y’know, if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just said so…” he slurs, making Sunghoon sigh, closing his eyes for a second to collect himself in time before the frustration in him turns into anger and he swings at his friend.

You can’t help but laugh at the commotion. You don’t really go out to party much– since you and Izzy are introverted, you don’t really search for these types of gatherings– but you figured that doing something other than watching the TV on a Friday evening would be nice. Especially when you were invited by the guy you met in your internship. 

It felt rude to deny an invitation to a party by Park Jihoon, given the fact that you wanted to make friends and connections during your stay with the company. He is an intern just like you– maybe a bit more energetic and extroverted, that’s all. Which you welcome with open arms, just for the record. It’s been a while since an extrovert extroverted the way they are supposed to and adopted you– it’s always a pleasant experience.

You’re also not really the one to participate in a game of spin the bottle. You find such games embarrassing and nerve-wrecking. They induce anxiety in you from what you have to do, and it’s not the good kind. The adrenaline in your veins is enough for you to call it quits, but then again, you’re always good at falling for peer pressure and your roommate’s battling eyelashes are ones you don’t find yourself resisting too often. 

There’s alcohol running through your system, warming you up. Wearing a cropped top and shorts surprisingly didn’t really help you to cool down as you soothe yourself with alcohol after another week of stressing yourself over your damn internship project (which Jihoon offered to help with, but you’re too much of an individualist to let anyone partake in even just the smallest task of your assignment) and after careful consideration, you realize you haven’t had that much to eat before turning up to the party.

Which is always a mistake. Drinking on an empty stomach is one of the biggest flaws you bring with yourself to social gatherings.

“Maybe I should eat,” you suddenly comment, perking up the attention of Jihoon to your right. He looks at you with considerate eyes and nods.

“There should be pizza coming soon, actually.”

“Really?” you gasp, excitement suddenly flowing through your bones. It’s been at least a month since you last had pizza, and you’re slowly starting to crave it. Did Izzy give up on that cute delivery boy? Maybe you should remind her… the pizza was worth it, you must admit.

“Yeah–” 

And as if you wished it into existence, the sound of the doorbell suddenly brings you out of the conversation and has people closest to the door standing up to get it.

It seems like randomly running up to Eric Sohn is your newest hobby. It’s strange how life works– you haven’t seen him in ages, and suddenly, he finds his way to randomly walk back into the plotline of your life casually, as if it was fate. It’s kind of laughable, really. 

Because there he is– standing behind the door with boxes of pizza in his hands, accompanied by his friend Sunwoo holding up even more. The amount could feed a whole village, you think, and you’re suddenly glad you aren’t the one paying for the food, since you’re sure it would add up to a big check. The crowd hollers at the two boys at the door, and it takes you a few seconds to realize it’s not because of the feast they just brought into the building.

“Eric! Sunwoo! Come in, you two!” Jihoon suddenly calls from next to you, waving the two over with a motion of his hand. This has the shorter boy look into the spacious living room, eyes scanning the surroundings. His eyes fix on you for a second, offering you a smile, before they move back to the host.

“Can’t, we’re on the clock, actually,” Eric snickers awkwardly, shrugging.

“Oh come on!” Haechan, the boy that was introduced to you today as Jihoon’s best friend, joins. It seems like everyone around knows exactly who Eric Sohn is, and it leaves you wondering just how you managed to unawarely avoid him for all those years. “Just for a bit!”

“Yeah,” Jihoon adds. “Just stay for like 10 minutes, or something. Actually,” the tipsy boy has a million-dollar idea, “I’m not paying y’all until you stay for a bit. How about that?”

“Great, dude,” Sunwoo laughs, shaking his head in disbelief at his friend’s tactics. “Let’s go in, then.”

The two get ridded of the pizzas they brought, walking up into the room. You feel Izzy poking your leg with her pointer finger repeatedly, and when you look at her, she is staring at you with eyes that remind you of someone slowly slipping into a manic state. You think it’s the effect of Kim Sunwoo entering the room with a smirk on his face, but you’re not really sure at this point.

“What are we playing?” Sunwoo asks the obvious as he sits down, dragging his friend with him. Their spot is currently straight across from you. After more careful examination, you realize Eric’s eyes are glued on your figure, making you smile at him and wave silently before he moves to scan your new friend sitting close to your right. 

The last time you’ve seen Eric was that day at the library. That was almost 2 weeks ago now, and although you went for a coffee after you declared that you ‘simply can’t do it anymore’ and ‘would rather die than to work on this project any longer’, he insisted on paying for both of your drinks instead of making you do it, as was previously agreed on. You exchanged numbers after chatting and walking around for a bit, and although you waited for him to text you the same week, he never did, and you never tried to make conversation either.

Somehow, you simply didn’t know what to say. Then again– it’s not like the two of you were friends in the first place.

The game proceeds like before even with the new members added. Some of the people hanging out around the living room move to eat the pizzas, but if you’re being completely honest, the idea of eating was long forgotten to you the moment Eric and Sunwoo walked through the front door. Admittedly, maybe you did have a considerate amount to drink this evening, because everything is starting to turn into a bit of a blur from this moment. You watch the game absent-mindedly, not really taking much in, as your eyes sometimes subconsciously move to Eric sitting leisurely on the sofa opposite of you.

After a round where Jihoon is asked to suck on Haechan’s toe and Yizhuo is told to confess the last person she hooked up with (which was a guy to whose name everyone gasped, but left you clueless, since you didn’t really know who it was), your biggest fears are proven to be reality as the bottle lands on you. Heartbeat instantly picking up at speed, making you hear your own blood in your ears, you look up from the cursed item and wait to hear your ordeal.

Who would’ve thought playing spin the bottle would feel like a near-death experience?

“Truth or dare?” Yizhuo asks.

After a second of consideration, you blurt out: “Dare.”

Big mistake. At least you can lie when you pick the truth, goddamn it. What was drunk you even thinking…?

“Okay,” she nods, contemplating for a bit. As the gears in her head start working and the idea comes into her brain, a smug smirk appears on her face, hinting that this whole evening was a bad, bad idea. “I dare you to sit in the lap of the hottest guy here for three rounds.”

The crowd goes crazy. 

Girls gasp, guys whistle, and your brain– it completely shuts off. Alcohol should logically make you feel more courageous and daring, no? That’s what they all say. 

You’re the one to prove the sentiment wrong as you gulp and contemplate your next decision. Given the fact that you’re one shot away from throwing up, you decide to not drink to protect yourself– making sure you save your image and don’t embarrass yourself by showing the contents of your stomach to everyone on Park Jihoon’s beige rug.

Scanning the circle, you watch the men situated right in front of you in the living room. It resembles window shopping a bit, except you’re feeling really fucking miserable while doing it. You know it’s all fun and games and that if you take the situation with enough nonchalance, everything will turn out fine– hell, some might not even remember this moment in the morning, so it’s really not that big of a deal– but the more you contemplate the object of your dare, the more nervous you’re starting to feel.

Kim Sunwoo is a clear no go. You and Jihoon are close enough where it wouldn’t feel awkward, but somehow, you know you would be lying to yourself if you picked him. Your eyes smoothly drift past Haechan, Jake and Sunghoon, all the way past Renjun and Jeno to Eric sitting right across from you, eyeing you with interest in his dark orbs. 

The circle is starting to rush you. Jihoon nudges your side, telling you to ‘just pick one,’, making you briefly glance at him with a stern look in your eyes. After your gaze lands back on Eric– whose eyebrows slightly furrow when he notices you paying attention to your new friend– you come to a downing realization of the fact that somehow, your eyes keep landing on the short boy, not really wanting to look away.

It’s alright. It’s nothing. Eric Sohn is conventionally attractive– you’re sure it’s not that big of a deal. 

Standing up from your spot, hearing the crowd pick up the excitement, you walk over to the other side of the circle– while trying not to trip over your own foot and fall over in the process. Eric looks up at you with big eyes glimmering, expecting your final answer, making your palms sweat and voice a little shaky as you awkwardly let out.

“Do you mind…?”

The question is laughable, really. You audibly hear Yeji and Yizhuo squeal in excitement at your action, while Haechan hollers out a laugh from the back. Trying to ignore the reactions, faking nonchalance, you watch as Eric shifts slightly in his spot and moves his hands to his sides, as if to make some space for you, before he shrugs. 

“Go ahead.”

Nodding to yourself, you scratch the back of your neck before you turn your back to him and slowly settle yourself onto his lap. 

And here you thought the delivery boy incident could simply not be beaten on the scale of awkward and embarrassing moments with Eric Sohn.

It’s now your turn to spin the bottle, you realize– which you try to focus on instead of the fact that you are currently sitting in the lap of the guy you grew up with– making you bend to the ground and proceed with the game. Only three rounds and you can move back to your initial spot, you think. You just have to survive three rounds of this stupid game before you’re free.

Watching the empty wine bottle spin in circles before it stops, your eyes move to the side with the opening, trying to see who it landed on. When you look up, your roommate is staring back at you with a suspicious look on her face, not even waiting for you to ask the question to determine her fate. “Dare,” she spits out. 

Her eyes bear into you with such intensity you think she’s trying to tell you something, but right as you try to match her brain frequency and decipher what exactly she wants from you right in this moment, you feel Eric’s hands land lightly onto your sides. 

They don’t move, nor do they put any pressure into your skin. They just lay there, fingers on the skin of your bare midriff, sending an electric shock into your brain that completely shuts off your telepathic communication with Izzy, making you blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind.

“Uh… prank call your latest hook up and tell him you want to get together with him,” you say.

She immediately throws darts into your skull, making you regret your decision. 

What? Is it not spicy enough? Judging from the reactions of the rest of the players, you’d say you did a good job– which makes you believe she just didn’t want to expose hooking up with Jaemin in front of everyone.

Nonetheless, she moves on with the dare. You don’t really pay much attention to it as a wave of sickness comes over you. You’re genuinely left seeing things twice, which leads you to close your eyes and rest your head in your hands for a second before a low voice lands into your ear.

“How drunk are you on a scale of 1 to 10?” Eric asks.

“Like… 8, I think?” you snicker. “I’m okay, I just need to–”

Before you get a chance to finish your sentence or even barely think of what would help you in this moment, you feel Eric’s hands on your sides lightly tug your body towards him, leaving you to fully glue your figure onto his. Your back meets his front, sprawling out onto the sofa, leaving you to settle your head onto his shoulder. 

You can’t say your stomach feels less crazy at the moment, but you also can’t say this isn’t strangely nice. “Better?” he asks. 

You think you lost your voice for a second, so you only offer him a nod. 

His next actions leave you wondering if he’s always been this touchy and affectionate. While one of his arms sneaks around your waist and holds you to him, his other palm leaves to take its new place on your thigh. The rational side of your brain is telling you that this is just the most comfortable place to let your arms rest when you have someone sitting in your lap, but it’s still enough to have heat rising up your neck, slowly warming up your face.

A few seconds pass before Eric absent-mindedly starts to draw circles onto your quad, your brain hyper-focused onto the feeling of his forearm on your bare midriff. When he laughs at the way Izzy’s prank call is going– to which he earns a warning look from your roommate to keep quiet and not break the facade– you feel his body vibrating under you, making you realize that you’re the only one out of the two that is so affected by this simple gesture.

It leaves you feeling silly. It must be the alcohol, surely– but god,

Eric Sohn surely has hands that make hell seem cold.

You’re woken up in the morning to the sound of your roommate screaming, yelling at you. Not only do you already have a massive headache from the hangover you surely accidentally threw yourself in, now you also feel like there is someone cutting parts of your brain off with a knife. (Which sounds contradicting, because you do know the brain can’t be in pain. Why does it feel like that, then?)

“You had the perfect opportunity to think of something that could make me and Sunwoo closer. You could’ve said anything! But no, you chose to–”

“Why are you screaming?” you ask, voice hoarse and quiet, your throat scratchy as you utter the few words.

“–lay in Eric’s lap like a princess and do nothing–” she continues, making you wince. It’s not that you don’t remember the moment, no– you do. The memory is almost painfully crystal clear in your brain, you just didn’t really mean to think of it the first thing in the morning.

“Isabelle,” you grit your teeth and put your pillow over your eyes to shield them from the sunlight that is only making your headache worse, “I’m gonna need you to shut. the. fuck. up–”

“You’re a terrible, terrible wingwoman, I’ll tell you that,” she accuses you.

Suddenly, the cause for her telling looks and annoyed huffs throughout the last night make total sense. Hell, you’re smarter than this– you shouldn’t need explaining for such a simple task. It was your turn to dare your best friend to do something, and the object of her desire was right there. You will blame the shortcoming on your alcohol-infused brain– in Izzy’s eyes, though, it doesn’t really change the narrative.

“I’m sorry,” you mourn, “I wasn’t thinking properly.”

“Yeah, I could see that,” she grunts, tugging the pillow off your face. “At this rate, me and Sunwoo are never gonna be a thing, and I hope you know it’s completely your fault.”

“How could it be my fault?” you grunt, suddenly frustrated with your roommate. She is the one that isn’t sending him obvious enough hints, and it’s your fault he isn’t catching on? Why are you suddenly blamed for something that is completely out of your control? This is getting a bit ridiculous.

Wanting to sit up on your bed and fight against your roommate, but failing to do so before she escapes your room– sensing that you would throw the pillow onto her as soon as you’d get the chance– you sigh and reach for your phone sitting on your bedside table. There is a notification shining at the top of your screen, and when you unlock your phone and absent-mindedly click on the message, you’re taken off guard by the view in front of you.

Eric Sohn [1:21 AM]: hi, just checking in to see if you got home okay?

You read the message over once, then twice, before you decide to reply. Clearing your throat, as if you were going to record a voice message, you think of the most appropriate answer. 

If you’re being honest, you don’t really remember much about how you got home last night– all you know is that after three rounds of spin the bottle, you reluctantly climbed off Eric’s lap, to which him and Sunwoo escaped the party and trailed back to work with excuses of Eric’s sister killing them if they didn’t show up soon. You’re fairly certain that you and Izzy just took a cab home, but since you notice you’re still wearing yesterday’s clothes, you assume you weren’t really with yourself at that moment– which is also the sole reason for you not replying to Eric’s message when you first got it.

You [11:10]: hello!! yes we did :) You [11:10]: sorry for replying so late, but as you could see last night i wasnt rlly checking my phone haha..

Surely this is good enough to play it off. Not suspicious at all! Eric Sohn will never know you were drunk off your face and hardly made it through the front door of your apartment. (Except he does know, and you’re also painfully aware.)

And all of this for what..? A bad week at your internship? You’re one of the weak ones, for sure.

Switching apps and deciding to scroll through Instagram for a bit before you get up and face the day– which includes making lunch, because you didn’t have any leftovers left in the fridge– your phone buzzes in your hands, showing you a new message.

Eric Sohn [11:15]: good to hear :) Eric Sohn [11:15]: are u feeling well? 

God. You feel like throwing up– surely the cause of the alcohol still in your system.

 Well, it’s not like he didn’t know before. And you’re a grown woman! There’s no shame in a bit of a hangover. You’re fairly certain he gets them all the time– you two are in university, after all. 

Faking nonchalance, once again, you text back.

You [11:16]: yeah, just a massive headache that’s all :// You [11:16]: im sure lunch will fix it lol

Eric Sohn [11:16]: speaking of… do u wanna get lunch w me? im sure eating out is a better option for u rn haha

Something inside of you panics at the message. You don’t know what it is, but somehow, you always feel a bit awkward with Eric at first. Maybe it’s the fact that you always remember how you grew up together and then vanished out of each other’s lives– without each other even noticing– or maybe it’s the fact that you always feel like you only embarrass yourself in front of him. 

He seems to be casual about things, though. He doesn’t make fun of you for anything– rather, he takes those moments as opportunities to get closer to you and maybe even build back the friendship you were forced into in childhood, but chose in your adulthood. 

There is no reason to overthink his words or actions. It’s Eric, after all.

Eric Sohn [11:17]: me and sunwoo that is, btw. u can bring your roommate if she’s down!:D

Oh. 

Well, at least you have a way to fix things with your butthurt friend. Clearing your throat before calling into the depths of the apartment– because Izzy left your door open, seemingly hinting that it’s time for you to get up and cook lunch– you slowly start getting out of bed.

“Izzy, do you wanna get lunch with Sunwoo, Eric and I?” you ask, a grin slowly appearing on your face. She rewards you with a few seconds of silence– as if trying to tease you– before she gives you the obvious answer. 

“Yeah.”

“Thought so,” you chuckle, sending Eric back a text agreeing to his invitation. 

After a few minutes spent showering and making yourself look presentable, you walk out of the building with your roommate by your side (that’s currently smelling a bit like she just poured the whole perfume bottle over her), nearing the building you decided to meet in over text messages. It’s a small Korean place just down the street, making you wonder if it’s the boy’s favorite, or if he just chose something that was nearby for you out of convenience.

When you open the door and walk into the place, you’re immediately hugged by the smell of delicious food making your stomach churn in hunger and the low music playing in the background. It doesn’t take you long to notice the two boys already sitting at one of the tables, chatting to each other. Sunwoo is very passionate about something, waving his arms around, but the moment you two arrive at the table, their conversation dies down a bit, replaced by warm greetings.

“Wow, you look terrible,” Sunwoo lets out when his eyes meet your figure. The comment makes you shrink in yourself– truth be told, you know you don’t look your best right now, given the fact that your headache was still very much present and you didn’t put any makeup on– but still, it isn’t the best experience to hear someone say it out loud.

“Thanks,” you nod, watching as your roommate eagerly takes a seat next to Sunwoo, her body in respectful, yet close proximity to his, “I feel like it too.”

“Auch–” the said boy lets out, glaring at Eric sitting opposite of him. You’re not really sure what happened, but you don’t pay it much mind as you slowly settle yourself in the last spot possible– next to Eric in the little booth.

“Did you order already?” Izzy asks, clearly more joy and cheerfulness in her body than in yours. You don’t really know how or why she’s not currently dying of a hangover like you are, but something is telling you that maybe, just maybe, you were the only one that took the drinking too far last night. (You and Sim Jake, that is. The poor boy had to run to puke only a few minutes after the game of spin the bottle ended, and it was not a fun sight.)

“No,” Eric shakes his head, “we were waiting for you to get here. Wanna check the menu? We already skimmed through it.”

You nod at his preposition, taking the laminated paper into your hand. You’re always indecisive when it comes to ordering food– never really knowing what to get, because everything is either foreign to you or too appealing, nothing in between, leaving you on the fence about what you’d like to eat at the given moment– and the lengthy list of options in this place isn’t really helping you. 

A sigh escapes your throat at the sight. Truth be told, you’re not even gonna read the whole thing– so you opt to look at Eric to your right with a begging expression on your face.

“Do you know what you’re getting?” you ask, watching him nod.

“Ramen.”

“Is it good?” you inquire, having the boy nod at you casually, replying to your question.

“Pretty good, yeah,” he answers. “Also, I’d argue that it’s the best for a hangover.”

“Perfect. I’ll have that, then,” you note, putting the menu back to its place on the other side of the table, not really wanting to think about it any longer.

When the waiter comes and asks for your order, you notice Eric taking charge and saying your choice as well, ridding you of the burden. Grateful for his initiative, you turn to smile at him in return, before you choose to rest your head in your hands on the table, still not relaxed enough after the long night you had. 

There’s a soothing hand rubbing your back in just a few seconds, pressing comforting circles into the middle of your torso. You think you can’t really blame Sunwoo for making fun of you today– you surely must look like absolute shit.

“Did you two go to the same party?” Sunwoo chuckles, pointing out the obvious difference in your composures. “How come do you not look dead?” he addresses the question to Izzy, curious.

“I can handle my alcohol well,” she hums.

“That’s a lie,” you grunt, eyes still glued to the wooden table, “she just didn’t drink much last night.”

“I think that’s a part of handling my alcohol well–”

“No it’s not,” you squint at her, shaking your head. “Abstinence is not ‘handling alcohol’, you moron.”

“Okay, well, I’m just saying that’s the reason why you look like you have some sort of disease, while I look fresh and beautiful,” she sings in half-seriousness, half-irony, going as far as posing like a flower, offering the whole table her bright smile.

“I mean, you always do,” a low voice echoes around the restaurant, making you snap your head up to gaze at the boy opposite of you that is now refusing to meet anyone’s eye. Eric’s hand freezes on your back, stilling, as a chuckle leaves his throat at his friend’s comment.

Interesting. Sunwoo’s usually cocky demeanor changes as he blushes, scratching the back of his neck. The air gets a little tense as you allow yourself to look your roommate in the eye, a hint of surprise playing with her face. She looks taken aback, but pleased with herself– and you have to give her that. Her magic is finally working.

“So, anyways…” Eric breaks the awkward silence, arm slipping off your back and resting on the table. The absence of the soothing circles on your clothed skin makes you miss it only a little bit, but you won’t really dwell on that any longer or mention it out loud. 

The food comes just in time to diffuse the weird atmosphere, making all of you thank the waiter for the meal and get to eating. You can’t say ramen is your favorite meal on the planet, but you must admit that the way they prepared it here really gets your taste buds on Cloud 9. You’re enjoying every bit of it, salvaging the salty taste and chewing on the noodles, looking like a person that’s been starved for five days with the way you’re just inhaling the food like it’s oxygen.

“Feels nice to finally eat somewhere else than at work,” Sunwoo grunts in pleasure, throwing his head back and letting his eyes close, fully enjoying the moment. 

Eric nods in agreement, having you furrow your brows at them. “You must work a lot.”

“Yeah,” the boy next to you nods, “I do it to help my dad, but the more I work, the more miserable and absolutely boring it gets.”

“I would imagine it to be kind of fun, I dunno,” you hum sheepishly, noticing the boys eyeing you with a deadpan expression on their faces.

“I mean, everything’s better than a corporate job, in my opinion,” Eric throws a jab at you, a smirk playing with his lips. He’s not wrong.

“Don’t even remind me…”

“Still no progress on that thing?” he asks, genuine interest lacing his tone.

Shaking your head, you sigh. “I mean, I did a bit of market research, but nothing to show my boss, that’s for sure. It’s just been rotting my brain for weeks and I feel like I’m frozen with stress that I can’t actually pick it up, y’know?”

Eric nods in acknowledgement, swallowing the last bits of food in his mouth. “Maybe you just need to think about it less.”

“Yeah,” Izzy joins, “take off some steam. Maybe you just need a little break from it.”

“But if I take a break from it, I might never actually start it–”

“That’s ridiculous,” she cuts you off. “You know you work well under pressure.” You sigh at her comment, shaking your head in disapproval. Procrastination isn’t really your favorite thing under the sun, but it’s something you can’t really control during most projects you pick up.  “What do we say we all hang out together when you’re free? To chill, do something fun, get your heads off work…?” 

You look around the table with questioning eyes. You’re not really sure if you crawled across the bridge to the friendship side yet, or if Izzy’s efforts are what is going to do just that. Not really knowing where you stand with the boys– because they did invite you to lunch, but you also hadn’t spoken in a long time before that– you don’t push them for an answer. You’re going to go along with whatever they choose.

“I’m down,” Sunwoo nods, “I bet that if we tell Lisa in advance, she can do the deliveries. There’s a new Deadpool movie coming out next week, wanna go see that?”

You’re not really a fan of Marvel movies nor have you seen the first two parts of the series. The same could be said about Izzy, but she grasps at the invitation like a thirsty woman seeing water after 20 days spent on a desert, nodding eagerly at Sunwoo. It’s almost laughable how easily she agrees to everything the boy has to say. 

You guess you can’t really blame her, though– he is giving her subtle signs of reciprocation with today’s compliment, isn’t he?

You think about it for a while. Looking to your right, facing Eric, you lock eyes with him, as he was already gazing at you and expecting your answer. The boy shrugs at the eye contact, seemingly down to the offer. 

You guess seeing a movie with them isn’t such a bad idea, right?

“Yeah, okay,” you say, “what day is that?”

Foolish. That’s what you are.

Foolish for thinking you could get everything done in time and actually enjoy your time with your friends. Foolish for thinking you could have a day off when you don’t have to think of all the responsibilities that adult life is throwing at you– because as you realize exactly one day before you’re supposed to see the new Deadpool movie in the cinema with Izzy, Sunwoo and Eric, after a discussion with your boss about how he needs some spreadsheets done before the next day, you realize don’t have enough time in your schedule for both.

Frustration, anger and also a bit of sadness fills your bones as you announce to your friends– in person to Izzy and over a text to Eric– that you probably won’t make it. The boy tells you that if you do end up being able to come after all, you should, which makes you only feel worse at the realization that you are now missing out on what could’ve been a chill afternoon.

The frustration only grows in you when you decide to do your work in the library the next day, not even walking back to your apartment after class– because you realize you not only don’t enjoy any minute of your internship, but you also feel like a failure after not being able to finish any simple task with no bigger issues.

After sending one last message to your friends about how you’re stuck in the library for the time being, you try to drown yourself in work– while simultaneously trying to ignore the clock in the corner of your screen telling you the exact minutes you’ve spent missing out on the plans.

You don’t really know how much time passes before a hand lands on your shoulder, making you jump violently in your seat. Your heart starts beating a thousand miles an hour as you turn your head to make out who is the cause of your heart attack, preparing yourself for the screaming match you’re very well mentally ready for.

Up until… you notice who’s standing behind you, offering you a gentle smile.

“Sorry. Did I scare you?” he asks, laughing softly at your shaken composure.

“I almost died, dude!” you scold him, shaking your head at the boy. Something inside of you lights up at the idea of a distraction from your workload, your heart squeezing on itself when you scan your visitor over– from the bottom of his feet cladded in simple Nike pandas to the top of his head covered not only by a beanie, but also the hood of his gray sweater.

“Sorry,” he once again apologizes, eyes glimmering in amusement.

“What are you even doing here?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion and checking the time on your laptop. “The movie starts in a few minutes!”

Out of all the people on the whole entire planet, Eric Sohn is the last person you’d expect to appear in the library exactly at this moment. The sheer presence of him right in front of you makes you blink a few times in hopes of figuring out if his existence is not a fata morgana, watching as the boy only shrugs at you in nonchalance.

“Ah, that…” he hums. “I actually brought you a treat, since you said you will be stuck in the library the whole day,” he says, offering you a bag containing something sweet-smelling.

Once you take a better look at what he’s holding in front of you, your stomach churns and your tastebuds yearn for the sugary dough he must have gotten in the bakery at the corner of the campus on his way here– pink glazing and colorful sprinkles, almost bringing tears into your eyes in appreciation. “What? Why?” you ask. “You didn’t have to…”

“I figured there was no use going to the cinema if you’re not going,” he explains– his words making a nervous little bug fly around your stomach. “Since I’m sure Sunwoo and Izzy wanted to go alone anyways, I didn’t wanna be a third-wheel.” 

Oh. Right. You forgot about that part.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave them alone together, to be honest,” you say, making Eric chuckle at your comment.

“This might either be the best, or the worst thing on the whole entire planet.”

“Agreed,” you nod.

Eric sends you a prolonged look in which you realize you haven’t accepted his offering yet, making you reach for the bag containing the donut and placing it onto the table, right next to your laptop. “But really, thank you,” you nod, “you didn’t have to. I’m sure you have other things you could be doing…”

“I wanted to make your stay in the library more pleasant,” Eric says, shrugging. His figure is still towering over you– as he’s standing and you’re sitting down– something about the fact making you wish he would take a seat next to you and maybe even stay for a minute. “I imagine it’s gonna be a long day for you…”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “All thanks to my stupid internship and my stupid boss and this stupid assignment…” you ramble, watching as Eric’s lips turn into a soft smile. What he’s smiling at, you’re not really sure– the topic of the conversation is already miserable enough for you without actually doing any of the things you’re complaining about– but you drop it as the boy crouches next to you, putting his arm around your chair.

“What do you need to do?” he asks, interested.

“I just need to finish this spreadsheet,” you hum, “which isn’t that hard, it’s just a lot of tedious work that no one wants to do, so of course it falls on the intern.”

“That’s the beauty of an internship,” Eric jokes.

“Do you even intern?”

“No,” he laughs, shaking his head. “But I’d like to see what it’s like. Want help with that? I can read the numbers out for you so you don’t get lost in all those rows and columns,” he suggests, pointing to the amount of reports waiting at your desk, waiting to be digitized.

“Oh, it’s okay,” you sheepishly say, although touched with the offer. He’s probably only saying it to be nice– but that’s still enough for appreciation to grow in your chest. “You don’t have to stay and do boring things with me just because we were supposed to hang out today. Actually, you should hurry so you can get to the cinema on time–”

In your peripheral vision, you watch as the boy stands up from his crouched position only to pull out a chair from one of the empty seats, placing it next to yours so he has a view of your laptop. Before you get a chance to protest any longer, he’s sat in the seat with one of his legs popped up and resting on the bottom construction of your chair, hands reaching for the papers that you could physically drown in sprawled all over your desk. 

“Don’t be silly. I’d rather do anything else than to watch Sunwoo embarrassingly try to flirt with your friend,” he chuckles. “So, which numbers do you need?”

“Eric, really–”

“These ones?” he persists, not even giving you a chance to protest any longer. 

Eyes meeting– his big and honest, a warm pool of honey– yours a little tired, but still filled with tender appreciation, he waits for you to answer and explain how he can help you. He patiently awaits your instructions, wanting to make your life a bit easier– and something about that makes your heart leap in your chest.

You guess you’d say you and Eric are friends now. Yeah, you definitely are.

“Look, the sooner you’re done, the sooner you can get out of here and get another donut with me on your way home. Because trust me, I thought I could resist, but the more I look at the one I brought you, the more I kinda want one for myself…”

Laughing, you shake your head at his boyish antics. He looks so casual right now– like someone cut out of your everyday life, like someone you’ve known for years and are destined to know forever. 

You show him which row he should read out loud for you. You share the donut with him. It takes a bit longer than you expected and the donut place is closed when he walks with you home, but he assures you it’s okay– you can get one another time.

“Five iced americanos, two lattes, one iced tea– do you want anything?” Jihoon turns to you with raised eyebrows, getting a look of your sulking face.

“No,” you bite back, anger getting the worst out of you. 

“Okay, so we’ll also add another americano and a flat white, please,” your coworker slash friend turns back towards the barista, smiling at him and paying with the corporate card.

After the two of you move into the line waiting for drinks, you continue on with your little tangent. 

“So they think they can make me do all the dirty work, leave me with no time to do anything and announce tasks at the last second, only to be bitchy and don’t even say thank you when I do everything they tell me to?” you snap, scowling at Jihoon. “And then they decide that oh, maybe I’m not good enough to do all those fucking spreadsheets for them, so I am demoted to a coffee runner?!” you yell out, having the heads of the rest of the customers turn to you with annoyed and concerned looks on their faces.

“Okay, so we are going to calm down–” 

“I don’t wanna calm down!”

Jihoon laughs at your little outburst– which only makes you more frustrated– before he puts a finger against your lips to silent you, an amused expression taking over his face. “Don’t scream when we are inside, at least.”

After his finger leaves your lips, you are left staring at him with a sharp look– like a child that is mad because it didn’t get a new toy it liked in the store. You acknowledge that you might be acting a bit overly-dramatic at the moment, but you also still think your feelings and thoughts are justified. 

You hate the corporate lifestyle. You despise how you have to be a stuck-up to climb it, and how hard work never truly gets you anywhere if you don’t have connections.

Which is why Liu Yangyang is currently helping your boss with all major tasks, getting the experience he truly needs for his degree, while you and Jihoon were sent to get coffee for the whole office. Amazing, isn’t it? The way you can feel so looked down upon, even though you’re aware this is the place you’re supposed to be in, this is how you’re supposed to be treated.

You’re just an intern, nothing else. But sometimes, the uneven weight of responsibilities you get at work makes you stressed and nervous that one day, you’ll have too much on your shoulders to bear while all the other time, you aren’t even worthy of a normal task.

“I hope each and every one of them burns their tongue on that fucking coffee,” you grunt, making Jihoon only laugh harder.

“At least half of them ordered iced americanos, babe.”

A sigh escapes your throat at that. “Okay, so I hope they all spill the drink onto them,” you refute, making Jihoon grin.

“You’re so petty,” he points out as he stands close to you, suddenly deciding to use you as his own personal armrest. “Besides, I think you should appreciate that you don’t have to do a lot today, don’t you think? It’s nice to get a breather. I know I wouldn’t wanna be in Yangyang’s shoes right now.”

“I guess so,” you sigh, looking up to meet the tall boy’s eyes. “But it makes me feel like they don’t think we’re good enough for anything else.”

“And if that’s my crime, then so be it,” he playfully shrugs. “At least I’ll have the experience on my CV and I can graduate.”

“I’d love to have your mindset,” you muse.

“It’s quite easy, actually,” he nods. “You should get it into that pretty brain of yours,” he says as one of his fingers points to the side of your skull, making you scrunch your nose at him and try to avert the contact. 

Jihoon is persistent, though, as he suddenly makes it his quest to ruffle your hair to tease you and make it all disheveled. The two of you get into a play-fight of some sort, consisting of you trying to wrestle the boy off and him trying to make your life a living hell in any way he can, when he abruptly stops and raises his eyebrows at someone behind you, offering them a wave.

“Yo, dude! Hi!” he greets, making you turn your head to see who he is addressing.

There, standing just a few meters in front of you in the line, is Eric Sohn wearing cargo pants and a loose shirt, earphones hanging around the base of his neck. After being greeted by your friend, he moves closer to the two of you, smiling.

“Hi!” he says, paying both of you an up-and-down scan. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” Jihoon replies for the both of you, settling to his previous position of resting half his body-weight against your shoulder. You’ve grown used to his nature– playful and friendly, much like an older brother would act– so you don’t really mind the casual touch and teasing from him. “We were sent here to get coffee for the whole building, so we’re just doing that while Y/N here complains about everything–”

“I don’t complain about everything, just the systematic oppression of interns in the workplace–”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jihoon cuts you off, snickering. “What about you?”

Eric watches the two of you bickering with furrowed brows before he clears his throat, shrugging. “On my way to class,” he says, “I’m late already, so I figured a few more minutes while I get my coffee won’t hurt me in the long run.”

“Very responsible of you,” you joke, watching as the boy in front of you laughs, paying you a short look.

“Look, I don’t have any big responsibilities like the two of you do, so…”

“Y/N, on the contrary, doesn’t think getting coffee for the corporate people is enough of a responsibility,” Jihoon chimes in, making Eric’s eyes shift towards the taller boy, sending him a look slightly different to the one he gives you.

“She just doesn’t really know how to chill out,” Eric nods. 

“Hello?” you snicker. “I’m literally right here.”

The shorter one looks at you with glimmering eyes, shrugging. “It’s something you have to hear,” he notes. “Truth hurts, but it’s better than lying to yourself.”

Just after that, an order is called that makes Eric’s attention perk up, turning around to the barista. “I think that’s me,” he says, taking a step back towards the counter to retrieve his coffee. “I better get going, but it was nice seeing you two,” he nods.

“Us two…” Jihoon whispers next to you, making you look at him with furrowed brows, confused.

“It was nice seeing you too!” you nod instead, smiling.

“I’ll see you around!” Eric says. Before he completely disappears to the top of the line and out of the coffee shop, he turns to you one more time. “Oh and Y/N, we should hang out again sometime… Text me?”

“Oh, sure,” you agree, your stomach fueled with a strange kind of sensation at his words. You know you should’ve had breakfast in the morning– surely it’s just you being hungry. “I’ll- I’ll text you.”

Only after Jihoon waves at him, finally ridding you off the burden of being his personal armrest, do you realize how hot you feel in your cheeks and how you’ve spent the last couple of seconds carefully, intensively watching Eric get his coffee and step out of the building. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, the atmosphere suddenly too quiet to the one there was between the two of you before Eric Sohn arrived, you feel Jihoon elbow you in your side.

“So,” he starts, already hinting that this is going to be a difficult conversation, “what’s up with you and Sohn?”

“Hm?” you snap your head around to face him, almost breaking your neck with the force. “What do you mean, what’s up with me and Eric? There’s nothing up between the two of us.”

“Sure… and he wasn’t staring at me like he wanted to personally kill me with his own two hands just now, correct?” he teases, making you stop in your tracks.

Was Eric looking at him like that? You didn’t even notice.

“Correct,” you agree. “I don’t really think he was…”

“And my name is not Jihoon–”

“Stop being so difficult to talk to all the time, dear god–”

“Okay, miss ‘I find Eric Sohn to be the hottest one in the world’–”

“When have I ever said that?!” you call out again, suddenly feeling a little too hot in your cheeks, ears, and the back of your neck. What’s up with this visceral reaction? You swear you were nonchalant about these things!

“Oh, sorry, let me correct myself. It was the hottest one in the room, actually, but I think that speaks for itself, since Lee Heeseung himself was present–”

“Are you jealous, or something?” you choose to counter attack, leaving Jihoon to laugh at you in amusement.

“As if,” he shakes his head at you. “I just think it’s cute how whenever I see you two interact, he acts like a lost puppy following you and you’re too oblivious to do anything about it.”

“No, he doesn’t,” you furrow your brows at him, the words not even fully registering in your brain. What does he even mean by all of this? You and Eric are friends– that’s all there is to it.

“Sure… stay being like that and end up a bitchless loser forever, then,” he shrugs. You’d react more to his pointless arguments– because let’s be real, he is just making all of this up to stir some drama– but your awfully long order is called right in the moment you open your mouth to come up with a clever comeback, and so you choose to drop the topic, because it’s quite meaningless in your eyes anyway.

Walking back with two cup holders in your hands, fulfilling your one and only task of the day, you turn to Jihoon with a teasing grin. “Wait, did you just call Lee Heeseung sexy?”

“It was purely objective–”

“I really hate this, y’know?” you mutter as you stand in front of the gates of the amusement park, your cheerful roommate standing by your side bouncing on her feet as she waits in excitement.

“Shut up,” she says, a smile never leaving her face despite your gloomy expression, “don’t ruin this for me.”

“Well, it’s either you or me that is going to have their day ruined, and I think that judging by the fact that I’m already here, we know which one is going to turn true,” you say as you aimlessly look around, watching people going in and out of the premises of the park, some with goofy headbands on, some holding balloons– all of them sickly in love.

“It’s not like I invited you to a funeral, y’know,” Izzy grunts, “you could just act happy for me. It wouldn’t hurt you, y’know–”

“I would act happy for you if you didn’t feel the need to drag me to your dates with you–”

“Stop being such a party popper, dude. You’re going to have fun if you just allow yourself to,” she rolls her eyes at you. Yeah, she might be right about some parts of her argument– you got free tickets to the amusement park, which you love, just for the record– and you also have a day off from your internship and classes, which makes any day basically the best day on earth for you, but there is one thing about this whole situation that is making you doubt it just the tiniest bit.

That being the fact that you’re tagging along to a date. And you’re not alone in it– which automatically makes this whole thing seem a little too similar to a double date.

“I just don’t want him to think I see this as a–”

Your argument is quickly shut off as your roommate physically squeals into your ear before running off, feet automatically taking her to her sweetheart. Sunwoo is quick to catch her in his arms when she jumps into his hold, excited to see him despite hanging out with him two days ago, and you’re left walking slowly to the two approaching figures alone.

The moment you see Eric Sohn wearing tan cargo pants and a red windbreaker over his figure, your throat goes dry. His eyes light up a bit when they land on you, which makes the reality of not being able to run away anymore settle deep inside of your bones, and suddenly, you feel strangely nervous in his vicinity. 

This hasn’t happened to you yet around him– if you don’t count all the moments where you embarrassed yourself in front of him, feeling painfully awkward. However, the fact that this whole situation is too similar to a double date is making you feel slightly weak in your knees simply because of the fact that you don’t want Eric to think you want this to be a double date. You only went because Izzy promised to wash the dishes for you for two weeks if you did, and that’s an offer nobody should turn down, you think.

The idea of Eric Sohn thinking you want to go on a double date with him makes you feel agonizingly embarrassed. You two are just friends– nothing more, nothing less– and you wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea. You would never think of yourself as someone Eric would invite over for a date in the first place anyway– you don’t want him to have a feeling that you suddenly have high thoughts about yourself.

“Y/N! Hi!” Your thoughts are quickly cut off when you hear the boy himself greet you cheerfully, walking up to you to envelope you in a short hug. 

His arms sneak around you only for a moment, but you feel yourself automatically reciprocating the gesture before it even has a chance to register in your brain. You don’t really know when the two of you passed to the level of friendship where you greet each other with a hug– maybe the few text messages you shared since you last saw him in the coffee shop might have done the work– but you try to not question it when he pulls away, leaving you awkwardly standing around and watching Sunwoo and your roommate gaze romantically into each other’s eyes.

“Today’s gonna be tough,” Eric notes.

Chuckling at his words, knowing he’s referring to the honeymoon stage your friends have somehow ended up in– because you still can’t believe Izzy managed to date the boy after her embarrassing attempts– you just shake your head and move towards the entrance of the amusement park, not really wanting to pay any more attention to the couple than you have to.

“It is,” you agree, “I wouldn’t have agreed to go for this exact reason, but the idea of rides persuaded me,” you hum.

“I only went because this was the only way I could get a day off at work,” Eric mutters, “my stupid sister insisted I come with Sunwoo or else she wouldn’t cover my shift.”

“That’s strange,” you chuckle, furrowing your eyebrows at him. “Why would she care?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs, “said something about ‘enjoying my youth’, or something,” he grins. “I don’t really even like amusement parks, if I’m being honest.”

“You don’t?” you gasp, shaking your head at the boy. “Damn. I would think you’re an adrenaline junkie, if I’m being honest.”

“I am!” he agrees, nodding. “The other day, though, I saw a Tiktok about a ride breaking down somewhere in Japan, and that was the same day Sunwoo invited me here, so I think it might’ve been a sign from the universe to not go on any of these rides, or else I will die.”

Laughing at his words, shaking your head, you lightly slap his arm at the comment. “Don’t say that,” you tell him, “you’re just being a scaredy cat, admit it.”

“No…” he suspiciously shakes his head, very obviously lying.

“Yeah, right…” you snicker. “I mean, it’s okay, dude. I won’t laugh.”

“You’re already laughing, though?” Eric points out, an accusing finger in your face. His actions make you burst into even bigger giggles, eyes meeting his. When your gaze lands onto his face– the upper half shielded by the shade casted off his cap, yet still having his eyes crinkled up and cheeks full as he grins at you wide and warm in the sunlight– your stomach does that weird thing again, completely ruining the moment.

Clearing your throat, trying to keep your composure, you turn your head to search for Izzy and Sunwoo. The moment you catch them in makes your eyes go big and a grunt leave your throat involuntarily– the PDA making you even sicker to your stomach. While Sunwoo is standing in front of your roommate, his arms securely around her middle, she is gazing up into his eyes with a pout decorating her lips. The boy holds her cheeks in his hands for a brief moment before he leans in and gives her a short kiss that makes the girl stand up on her tippy toes, chasing for another one.

“Oh wow,” you let out, making Eric sigh next to you at the sight.

“Now that’s…”

“Yeah,” you nod while you turn back forward, trying your hardest to not look at the two of them any longer than you physically have to. “I knew they would be like that if they started dating. It’s like my worst nightmares came true.”

“Sunwoo can’t stop talking about her either. I’m starting to think I will know more about your roommate than you do, at this rate.”

“You might,” you agree, laughing to yourself. “With how many nights she’s spent at his place, I’m starting to think she’s going to move out soon.”

“Well, that’s only good for you then, no?” 

“Yeah,” you agree, joking. “The only reason why I still keep her around is to pay half the rent, if I’m being honest,” you chuckle, having the boy shake his head at your playful antics.

The two of you move forwards slowly while looking around the place, trying to see what you should do. The sun is strangely aggressive today, making it hard for you to see as you squint in the brightness– since the amusement park doesn’t really provide you with much shade– only making you a bit more frustrated with your choice of plans today.

“Should we get some drinks first?” Eric asks, pointing towards a stand that sells coffee, milkshakes and other beverages.

The line is long, but you don’t really see a reason not to wait. You have the whole day in front of you, after all, and since it seems to you that Sunwoo and Izzy have taken it upon themselves to ignore you two completely, acting like this was their own date, you choose to stick to whatever Eric wants to do. 

As you move to stand next to him– while also moving out of someone’s way– the back of your hand comes in contact with the boy’s next to you, having a slight wave of electricity run through your spine as you clear your throat and move away from him, wishing he didn’t notice. You take it upon yourself to look around to see what your next choice of plan should be.

After ignoring many couples walking around– since it seems that you chose a day when no other visitors were around, just teenagers holding hands and kissing in front of the rides (much like your friends are doing right now)– you opt to point your eyes at the horizon, looking at the tall constructions and rides. You have to shield your eyes from the sun with your hand to really see them, but the sight of them excites you a bit, so you guess it’s worth it. Squinting at the Pirate ride or the big rollercoaster twisting and turning like a caterpillar in the distance, you make a mental note of all the attractions you want to visit today.

Slowly moving to the top of the line to get coffee with Eric, you continue gazing behind him, blissfully unaware that he’s been watching you the whole time, noticing your little struggle. 

“After we get the coffee, I wanna go on that roller coaster there,” you hum, “and I’m bringing you with me, because Sunwoo and Izzy–”

Your words get caught in your throat as the man suddenly moves the hand you’ve been resting against your eyebrows to shield your eyes from the sunlight down, replacing it by taking his cap off and making you wear it. Your heart jumps at the action, eyes finally relaxing now that they’re in shade, making you gulp and stare at Eric.

“You don’t have to–”

“I have my sunglasses with me, so it’s fine,” he says, tugging the peak further down your head in a teasing way, a smile adorning his face.

You forgot what you were even saying in the first place– the idea of Eric’s hat on your head making your brain overheat a little with the added fabric on top of your hair. It’s the same cap you see on him often– his favorite one, you think– and your stupid, silly brian is starting to make connotations around the action that you’re sure are not correct.

You can’t say you’re not happy about wearing it, though. It does help your eyes.

“You were saying?” he asks, making you look back at him with big eyes, trying to think of what you were talking about before.

“Oh,” you hum, while also simultaneously reaching to fix his hair– since he hasn’t bothered to after taking off his hat for you– not even thinking about your actions as you run your fingers through the honey strands, “I was just saying you’re gonna have to go on some rides with me, because the lovebirds are ignoring us and I am not going alone,” you repeat.

When you’re done moving the blonde locks to their supposed place, eyes drifting back to Eric’s– now big and watching your every move, making you falter a little under his gaze and heat creep onto your cheeks– it’s his turn to clear his throat, shrugging.

“You’ll have to hold my hand when I get scared, though,” he says. The casualty of his tone shocks you, having you watch as the boy averts his gaze from you and presses his lips together into a thin line, not even paying a second thought to the implications of his words.

You pay them a second thought, though.

You keep repeating the words in your brain over and over, fingertips buzzing at the preposition, hands sweating at the mental image. Do you mind the thought of it?

Well, no. You don’t.

Not a big deal, after all…

“What did you want again? Flat white?” he asks, completely ignoring the previous conversation. You didn’t even realize you got to the top of the line, too deep in your thoughts, and before you have a chance to take out your wallet to pay for your drink (or maybe even Eric’s, since he paid the last time), he is holding the cup up to you already.

As you take it from him, your fingers touch again. It makes a warm pool of honey glisten in the pit of your stomach, foolishness creeping up your bones.

The boy takes it upon himself to shock you even further as he swings an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close to him. “Let’s go back to the lovebirds before they forget about our existence completely.”

You choose to ignore the fact that you forgot about their existence yourself.

When you get on the ride a few minutes later, Eric holds onto your hand. Your heart beats a thousand miles an hour, but you will write it off to the adrenaline– you do, however, foolishly wish he was scared more often. 

Turns out having Park Jihoon as your coworker isn’t as bad as it seems. Sure, he is good at making the atmosphere lighter in the office and also amazing at gossip in the workplace, but he is also surprisingly very good at his job– and with the date of your presentation fastly approaching, you had to get all the help you needed. 

Which is why you made the boy sit with you in the park as you went over it again and again, showing him your laptop and rehearsing your speech, taking notes of every little thing Jihoon said you should fix or add into the whole thing. You genuinely appreciate what he’s doing for you, which is why you also remind yourself to get him something after the internship is done– but after at least two hours of working on your laptop with him, he gets tired and his attention span seems to get shorter and shorter– and you don’t really blame him. 

Actually, you welcome the distractions he offers with open hands. Even more so, you add on to them and fuel them with more conversation, the laptop opened on your thighs long forgotten as you search through your gallery and show the phone screen to your friend, talking about the cute pillows you found at the store last week.

“See? They’re like… sea foam green, but Izzy says they wouldn’t go with our couch,” you hum, furrowing your brows at him, trying to see a different opinion on your newest choice of furniture for the already overcrowded flat.

“What color is your couch again?” he asks as you keep swiping, showing him all the angles of the pillows.

“Brown.”

“Oh, hell no,” Jihoon shakes his head, “that’s a Perry the platypus type of combo, I’m with Izzy on this one– oop, that doesn’t look like the pillows anymore–”

Swiftly turning the phone towards you again, worried of what picture you accidentally revealed to him (while you don’t have any nudes on your phone, you’re sure any selfie would be just as much embarrassing), you’re left with heat rising to your cheeks and shame drowning your system. 

“Well, anyways, so the pillows–”

“We’re not talking about the pillows anymore, girl–”

“We are–”

“No,” he keeps interrupting you, making you grunt and sigh as you rest your head against the trunk of the tree behind you, banging it against it in frustration.

“Shut up,” you mutter. The thing is, you know you won’t escape the teasing now– because Park Jihoon watching you swipe through your gallery to a high-angle selfie of Eric Sohn in his work uniform, pouting, is surely a very incriminating image. “We text on Whatsapp and he sent the pic, so it automatically saved–”

“And you just never deleted it, naturally,” Jihoon hums with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“I forgot–”

“You just didn’t want to–”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” you sigh again, locking your phone and throwing it into the grass. 

You and Eric have grown close since the day you spent together in the amusement park. So much to the point where you get lunch together sometimes and he sends you selfies when he’s bored at work, it seems. You don’t mind the subtle shift– hell, you welcome it with open arms– you just wish Park Jihoon (and Izzy, at this point) would stop teasing you about something that was not even vaguely true.

There is nothing going on between you and Eric Sohn.

And nothing ever will be– not a chance.

“I think the denial is being a little embarrassing now,” Jihoon chirps, making you swat his shoulder. You are not in denial– there is nothing to deny.

“You are being a little embarrassing.”

“You know I’m right,” Jihoon shrugs, grinning. Does he not have enough drama in his own life to stick his nose into yours? Not that there is any drama between you and Eric– but you bet Park Jihoon would love to create some.

“You’re never right.”

“Sure,” Jihoon hums. “I’ll mention this on your wedding speech–”

“I’ll kill you before I get married,” you grunt.

“But you didn’t deny the identity of the groom–”

Launching at the boy again, a threatening fist almost landing to his cheek, you watch as he wrestles you away with a loud laugh resonating through the space. Something about how lightly he takes the situation makes your stomach churn in an unknown emotion– you really don’t see why everyone thinks there should be something going on between you and your childhood friend.

“Look, all I’m saying is that if you want this to be a thing, maybe you should finally make a move, since the guy seems to be dull as fuck–”

Interrupting, never letting him finish a sentence when it comes to this topic, you try to finally prove your point. “I don’t want this to be a thing. I don’t even know what you’re talking–”

“I should go before I’m killed,” Jihoon suddenly hurries out, making you furrow your brows at him.

“What?”

“See you on Monday!” the tall male waves, scattering to his feet. He doesn’t give you much explanation as he runs off to the other side of the campus, making you watch him with confused eyes. Where has he gone so quickly? He doesn’t want to be killed? 

By whom? Should you be afraid? Should you run as well?

Somebody clears his throat next to you, making you jump as you turn your head to see who is disrupting your peace. The moment your eyes meet the intruder, Jihoon’s comment finally settles in– god, you’ll kill him when you see him again.

“Eric! What are you doing here?” you ask, watching as the boy shrugs, taking a seat next to you on the grass.

“Just got off work,” he says, “and you said you’ll be here, so I thought I’d come and say hi,” he hums, yawning and stretching his arms above his head.

The sentiment makes you mentally coo– the emotion going as far as reaching your face in a form of a gentle pout– as you dwell deeper over his words. You didn’t think that complaining about how you have to do work would make Eric think of visiting you after finishing his own, but something about it makes you all warm from the inside.

“You didn’t have to,” you hum. “You seem tired.”

A gentle smile is sent your way, so illuminizing it makes you look away. “I know, but I wanted to,” he says, “I also brought you leftovers, if you want some. It’s almost dinner time.”

An involuntary gasp leaves your throat as you watch the male take out an aluminum wrap from his backpack and offer it to you alongside his bright grin. You waste no time in taking the pizza slices into your hand and carefully unwrapping them, allured by the smell.

“Why did Jihoon run so fast, by the way?” Eric asks, laughing.

“Oh, he said he was late for something…” you hum. (You’re not even convinced of your own excuse. You don’t know how Eric doesn’t see right through your lies.)

“Ah,” the boy nods in acknowledgement, scooping closer to you so his back is now resting against the tree, his eyes gluing themselves onto your laptop screen. His piney smell fills your nose, making your stomach feel like it’s on water, before his soft, tired voice lands into your ear. “Did you make a lot of progress?”

“Mhm,” you nod, clicking through the slides and showing him. The boy makes an acknowledging sound after each new information you tell him– something that makes you find him immensely endearing– as you simultaneously reach for the pizza and mindlessly offer the slice you’ve already bitten into to him, watching as his straight teeth chew down into the dough, sharing one piece with you.

“Are you done for the day? I’ll walk you home,” he says, tiredness completely seeping through his tone now. You can tell he needs sleep– which makes you feel slightly bad about making him take a detour just to meet you.

“Almost,” you hum apologetically, closing your laptop. “I just need to read a few more articles Jihoon recommended for me and then I should be done,” you say, reaching for your iPad as you put your computer away into your bag. 

“Okay,” he nods.

“You can go home, Eric,” you say, “you don’t have to stay for me.”

“No, it’s fine,” he shakes his head, smiling at you. 

Watching him, eyes meeting for a heartbeat, you see that he won’t budge no matter how harshly you’d tell him to go– so you figure that quickly getting through the articles and going home is your safest bet in this situation. Tapping on the screen and finding the email Jihoon forwarded to you, you open the first link in the message, subconsciously registering as the boy next to you gets comfortable sitting in the grass with you.

You only get through half of the (lengthy) article before you see Eric’s head lolling forwards, sleep taking over him. The motion wakes him, but not for long as he just can’t keep his eyes open anymore– the combination of a long shift, classes in the morning and finishing up his assignments late in the night getting the worst out of him and making you feel immensely bad for the boy. Not focused on the words in the article anymore, you watch as your friend scooches further down in the grass, acting on instinct as his head suddenly rests against your shoulder, soft hair tickling the side of your neck. 

Heart leaping in your chest and whole body freezing– begging the universe to not make the boy wake up from his half-asleep state right now– you try your hardest to pay attention to the business tactics described in the article you’ve been reading for the last couple of minutes. It seems to be the hardest task you’ve ever set your mind on, though, as you notice the screen of your tablet getting dark, mirroring Eric’s relaxed face.

His neck is craned and his eyes are closed shut, making you turn your head to watch the sight first-hand, mentally counting all the eyelashes kissing his cheekbones and his puffed-out lips. Something about his pose doesn’t seem the tiniest bit comfortable, though– although it makes a strange wave of satisfaction run through your veins– and so, like any other decent person, you gently cradle your fingers through his hair, waking him up.

“Hmm?” 

“Your neck is gonna be sore,” you quietly say as you put your arm around his shoulder, “just lay down, yeah?” you say, doing your best at adjusting his position.

The male lets you navigate him with half-lidded eyes as you make him scooch even further down into the grass before you pull his upper body towards your lower half, essentially making the boy lay his head into your lap. Eric looks up at you from his new position for just a few seconds, eye contact reminding you of a small, shy puppy you just brought home from the road, making you smile softly and treat him as one when you instinctively reach out and pet his head, running your fingers through his soft strands and gently scratching his scalp.

After a few seconds, the male closes his eyes again, seemingly drifting off into the dreamland. Your actions soothe him and simultaneously bring you into some sort of trance you can’t bring yourself out of– eyes glued to his face, studying it.

The angle of his nose and the slope of his upper lip is much more enjoyable to study and memorize than the sales statistics of your job’s concurrency. You find his long eyelashes to be nothing far from angelic, his light hair like a crown of gold under your touch. Everything about him is soft and gentle in this state– with the golden hour shining down onto his features, making his skin glisten like honey– the view so pretty you’d like to take a picture to remember it forever.

Your head spins and your stomach does that weird thing again. This is not the first time you are acknowledging Eric’s attractiveness– just the first time you are appreciating his beauty, his prettiness to the point where you are enchanted by it, not able to tear your attention away. You can’t deny the fact that it affects you anymore.

You can’t deny the fact you feel around him lately. It makes you feel strange and embarrassed, but not to the point where you’d want to keep away from him.

Your iPad is thrown next to you on the grass, forgotten and abandoned. You’re jealous of the sun– for it’s able to kiss his cheeks without fear, without judgment– the boy turning into a putty under your touch, subconsciously leaning into it when you drag his light bangs away from his forehead. 

You admit the fact that you stopped working on your project the moment he arrived, not able to put your attention elsewhere than to his presence. You’re also aware he’d sleep better and more comfortably in his own bed, but for some reason, you selfishly want to keep him there– looking like a painting, something akin to a poem you wish you wrote.

Just for the moment, you let the reality down on you– that maybe Park Jihoon was right and there is no use denying the obvious anymore. Just for the moment, you let the feeling consume you, eat you alive. For now, though, the boy in your lap is all yours to admire. Blissfully unaware and painfully beautiful, soft and gentle all around.

The feeling inside of you is too raw, too real and so much different to anything you’ve ever known before.

When you’re satisfied with the dose of skinship, you wake the boy up and let him walk you home. You pretend for a moment the feeling is reciprocated and not left scared and lonely out in the open as Eric helps you carry your stuff for you and pulls you into a bear hug in front of your doorstep. You don’t tell him that you had the scariest realization while he was soundly asleep in your arms– it’s too scary and too real and you’re not ready to get your heart broken just yet. 

You pretend everything’s like before. Normal. 

You convince yourself that it will pass.

Once you enter the place, you’re instantly surrounded by the sound of people talking amongst each other, forks and glasses being put down, resonating through the whole place, the phone ringing somewhere in the distance, and a cold shot of liquid coming in contact with your stomach, making you gasp out in surprise.

“Oh shit!” Sunwoo grunts as he registers the mess he just caused, looking up at you with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry!”

Noticing the rush everywhere in the pizzeria and the amount of customers he has to take care of, you can’t really blame him for not watching where he’s going. Still, your face slowly morphs into a subtle frown at the realization that there is now a dark stain on your favorite white T-shirt, your outfit for the evening ruined– meaning half of your confidence disappeared just as fast as the Coca-Cola did from the glass Sunwoo has been holding. 

“It’s okay,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It’s nothing–”

“I’ll get you a towel! I’ll be right back,” the boy urgently says as he makes you hold the half-empty glass of the beverage he just spilled all over you, making you shrug and question if you should just drink the rest of it as a price of consolation.

“Dude, this place is packed,” Izzy grunts from next to you, “can’t even blame him for being all over the place, at this point.”

“Yeah,” you absent-mindledly nod, eyes searching in the crowd to find the figure you came here for in the first place. Not that you only want his presence, no– it’s just that Eric was the one who invited you to the festival your university is throwing as a celebration of the end of the semester. Supposedly, he knows the guy that’s playing in the band that’s headlining it, and even though you tried to refute his arguments and invitations with the fact that you have nothing to be celebrating just yet– the final season is surely going to kick your butt and the presentation for your internship is in just two days, which means you should be preparing for it really hard right in this moment, but his pleading voice in your speaker as you talked to him on the phone on your way home from class was strong enough to convince you that maybe you do need some time to wind off before the responsibilities sweep you off your feet again.

Once you find the boy himself walking away from one of the tables in the corner, his eyes find yours– as if knowing you’ve been looking for him, sensing your presence. His face is outstretched into a smile as he practically skips towards you and Izzy, but the grin leaves his features swiftly once he notices the ugly stain on your shirt.

“Damn, what happened?” he asks.

“Sunwoo spilled a drink over me,” you shrug, watching as his coworker rolls his eyes in frustration at the new information. You laugh at his fakely mad expression, shaking your head at him. “It’s fine, he was in a rush.”

“Yeah, we’re kinda behind, so I don’t know if–”

“No, it’s fine!” you hear a female voice call out, making you snap your head towards the direction of the counter behind you, noticing the presence of Lisa, Eric’s older sister. Her face is adorned with a wide grin that gets a teasing hint when her brother sends her a questioning look, making you watch the interaction with interest. “You said you’re leaving at 7, so you’re leaving at 7. I told dad my friends are coming up to help today, so you just go and enjoy your time out!”

“Really?” Eric asks, tone full of disbelief. You think he spends more time at the restaurant than he does in his own bedroom, and suddenly, you’re happy his sister is being so kind towards the poor boy.

“Yeah! You have more important business to take care of anyway, so…” Lisa says, wiggling her eyebrows at Eric. The boy sends her a look full of fear– which might be justified, since you don’t really know what’s going on at the moment– before he clears his throat and turns his attention back towards you.

“Anyways…” he starts, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “You can change into my shirt, if you want…? I have a spare one in the back in a case of emergency, and this surely looks like one, so–”

“Oh, it’s okay, you don’t have to–”

“I mean, the stain is pretty noticeable, so I was just–” he says. 

“It’s fine, Eric, I’ll just wash it in the sink, or something.”

“Or you can take my shirt that does not have a stain on it. I swear it doesn’t smell, I only wore it once! I’ll wear the one I forgot in my locker the other day,” he says, looking at you with wide, expecting eyes. Your heart does a flip in your ribcage.

You have to mentally restrain yourself from freaking out over this. He’s just being nice. He’s offering you his shirt because he probably knows that you want to look good– he is offering you his shirt because he knows the stain on yours is bothering you and that it wouldn’t come out as easily in the sink if you don’t wash the shirt properly with laundry detergent that you don’t have on hand right now– and when you weight all the positives and negatives of the offer (which you find far less pros than cons in, just for the record), you realize you don’t really have a reason to decline his offer.

“I mean, if you’re sure…”

The boy only nods, gently takeing you by your forearm as he leads you towards the back. You’ve never been there before and you also don’t really know where Izzy disappeared to, but you stop worrying about those the same moment Eric opens his locker and hands you his black shirt, a tight-lipped smile adorning his features.

“I’ll give you some privacy.”

“Thanks,” you nod. You wait for the door to close before you quickly drag your sticky T-shirt over your head and discard it off your chest, glad you’re ridded of the nasty feeling of it against your skin, fastly putting on the soft material that Eric draped onto your hold before on your upper body. 

The smell of his cologne instantly hits you in the face stronger than a baseball ever could, making your head spin and your stomach feel like it’s floating in the middle of the sea. Taking a quick look at yourself in the mirror on the wall next to you, you admire the way the garment fits you just well– since the height difference between you and Eric is barely existent. It makes you wonder if you could share wardrobes– the mental image of him in your favorite oversized graphic T-shirts making a foolish smile creep onto your cheeks, one that you forcefully wipe off the second you see it in the mirror. You smooth down the fabric before you tuck one side into the waistband of your jeans, satisfied with your new outfit. 

Giddy, you walk out of the storage room. It takes you a few moments to find your group of friends standing next to the counter, chatting. You notice that Sunwoo has already changed out of his work uniform into his regular clothes– a black band tee and camo cargo pants– one arm around Izzy’s shoulders.

“Ready?” your roommate asks, watching you nod.

“I’ll just go change and then we can go,” Eric says, swiftly turning on his heel and disappearing into the room you just came out of.

Izzy and Sunwoo talk amongst each other before they turn to you, finally deciding to include you in their conversation. “Excited for tonight? Eric said you need to destress,” Sunwoo raises his eyebrows at you, making you shrug.

“I guess,” you hum, “I think I practiced my presentation so many times I could recite it in my sleep now, but it also strangely feels like I don’t know it enough, y’know?” you say, shaking your head. “It’s driving me crazy.”

“I just think you need to take your mind off things, babe,” Izzy chirps, sending you a comforting smile. “You worked hard enough.”

“Well, we will find out soon if it really was enough,” you snicker, making your roommate glare at you with disapproval. Before she has a chance to ridicule you for your self-deprecating thoughts, you choose to change the topic instead, picking one that’s interesting her enough to forget all about your worries. “I heard from Izzy you wanna go bowling?” 

“Yeah!” Sunwoo perks up, excitement swirling in his dark orbs. “I haven’t been in a while, actually. I was thinking us four could go after exams are done? As a celebration?” 

You four. You find the fact that this is your new usual strange, but also welcome. How you fit into the group, your presence always counted on. Somewhere along the way, you fell into the causality of the friend group– and you can’t say you hate it as much as you thought you would. 

“Yeah, I’m down,” you shrug. “I’ve never played, though.”

“Dude, you and Eric go so well together, then. He’s actually shit at it, so I would even go as far as saying you will be better than him after two tries,” Sunwoo laughs. 

You and Eric go so well together– your brain repeats like a mantra. You know he didn’t mean it in that way. You can’t help but wonder– if you’d ask, would he further support his point?

“Speaking of Eric, what’s taking him so long? We’re gonna be late for the concert, at this point,” Izzy hums, checking the time on her phone.

“Should I go tell him to hurry?” you ask, receiving a pair of nods ushering you to go get him.

Taking a few steps towards the staff-only room, not thinking much before you pull the doorknob, you peep inside– regretting it immediately.

You’re met with the image of Eric turning towards the door to see who it is, shirtless. Your eyes can’t help but wander over the angles of his defined arms and stomach, making heat rush into your cheeks faster than you’ve ever felt it before, a broken noise escaping your throat as you pathetically try to both apologize and pretend you didn’t just have a visceral emotion to the sight of his bare body right there, a few meters away from you.

“Shit, sorry, I just–” you say as you turn on your heel, your body moving by itself and on its own accord as your brain flashes a few red exclamation marks right in front of your eyes, “they just– we should hurry, they said,” you mutter out, blanking.

“Coming!” Eric hums, the shuffling of clothes behind you making you believe he is now fully dressed. You won’t test your theory and look over your shoulder, though– you fear the dreams you’d have tonight if you saw him shirtless even for a second longer. You don’t take the initiative to leave the room either, though– feet glued to your spot right behind the door.

You hear the locker slammed shut, the sound of footsteps approaching making you all alert. God, you feel awkward. You feel embarrassingly awkward.

You find comfort in picking at the fabric of his shirt on your body, playing with it in between your fingers. After a moment, you feel his palm come in contact with your shoulder, his arm reaching around your figure as he leads you out of the storage room once again, completely ignoring your flustered state. You’re not sure if he’s uncomfortable or if he truly didn’t mind– but the moment he utters out his next comment, your knees almost buckle, making you breathless at the sight of his cheeks dusted a light pink.

Tugging at the sleeve of his own shirt adorning your body, he admits: “This looks really good on you, by the way.”

When you arrive at the festival, the band isn’t playing yet. You and your friends decide to hang out in the back of the crowd, not really wanting the music to blast straight into your ears from the speakers on the podium, and before you even have a chance to ask Eric who is the friend that’s singing in the band you’re here to see, the male disappears to find the toilets.

Chuckling at the fact that he couldn’t take care of the business before you left the pizzeria, but also suddenly too bored without him (since Izzy and Sunwoo don’t count as proper company when all they pay attention to at this point of their relationship is each other), you decide to get in the line for drinks, announcing your departure to the love birds before you go. You figure you should probably get a drink for Eric too, since he always makes it his quest to pay for yours before you even get a chance to take out your wallet, and you suddenly see his departure as the perfect opportunity to do just that– he won’t have a way to stop you this time. 

Standing promptly at the end of the line, you people-watch and listen to conversations of the fellow students hanging around the field. The drink stands are the most occupied out of the whole festival, the crowd of people waiting for a beverage accumulating half the population waiting for the concert, making you almost regret going here alone, since it’s pretty boring to just stand around, doing nothing.

“Damn,” someone hums from behind you, making you turn around to face the stranger, “I’m doomed.”

Instinctively, you raise your brows in question at the male, only prompting him to speak more once you make eye contact. 

“I’m playing on stage in a bit, but I wanted to get a beer before we start,” the guy states, chuckling. “At this rate, I’m gonna be late for my own set!” 

The fact that one of the band members that are supposed to perform in just a few minutes is currently standing behind you in line for drinks is a little amusing, to be honest. You’d say it’s kind of irresponsible to get to your own gig late, but you guess the boy is living the lifestyle of a punk star already, despite bagging only a mere university concert.

“You should try skipping the line and saying you’re VIP, then,” you joke. 

“And get killed? No, thank you,” the boy laughs, shaking his head. “I’ll just see if I can make it in 15 minutes. If I don’t, I’ll just make a run for it.”

Laughing, you nod in acknowledgement at his comment. You don’t really expect the conversation to go any further after that, but the stranger surprises you as he offers you his hand to shake, a lazy smile appearing on his face as he introduces himself.

“I’m Yeonjun, by the way,” he says.

“Oh, nice to meet you. I’m Y/N,” you smile, shaking his outstretched palm.

“How come I’ve never seen you around before?” he hums, making a step towards you as the line moves, making you walk back a step to close the gap in the crowd. Still, he follows you a step further and invades your personal bubble, standing too close for someone you’ve just met.

“Maybe you have,” you shrug, “and you just don’t remember it.”

“I’d remember a pretty face like yours,” Yeonjun comments, making you bite back a laugh. 

Is he flirting? Wow. You scan the male up and down, his self-assured stance making you believe that he is very confident in his persona. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s very attractive– plump lips, tall, shoulders broad– or maybe it’s the social status that comes with being in a band. Nonetheless, you can see the act working on many women. 

Not you, though.

“Well, I study business, so maybe that’s why.”

The male nods, shrugging. “Maybe I’ll have to hang around the business building more often, then.”

“Maybe,” you nod, chuckling. “There's a bunch of weirdos majoring in Accounting out there, though, so I’d watch my back, if I was you.”

“Well, if it means I get to see your face, I can put that past me,” Yeonjun smirks, making you mentally roll your eyes at the cheesiness of his words.

You don’t really get affected by obvious pick-up lines like these. Not that you hear them often– quite the opposite, really– but you much prefer more natural dynamics. One where conversations feel easy and casual, not forced and with deeper intentions. You can’t deny Yeonjun’s attractiveness, no, but you also can’t really say it’s doing much for you.

Not really knowing what to reply, you awkwardly shrug. “And what do you major in, then?”

“Communications,” the male replies. Something in you clicks– is this the friend Eric was mentioning? You should ask him about Yeonjun after he comes back.

Before you even have a chance to open your mouth and say the words, the male cuts you off after taking a quick glance at his phone. “Look, Y/N, I’d love to get to know you more, but I really have to run now. But if you give me your number, we can get a drink together after my gig is done?”

“Oh–”

“That won’t be needed,” you hear a low voice coming from behind you, making your eyes snap towards the source. Your eyes go wide as you recognise the owner of the voice instantly, your heart hammering in your chest at the close proximity he puts between the two of you. “She’s with me, actually.”

“Eric, dude!” Yeonjun beams– confirming your suspicions. “Sorry dude, I didn’t know that was your girl.”

Your girl. The two words echo in your ears, making your world tilt slightly on its axis. It’s not even true– you’re not together and you’re not Eric’s in any way, shape or form– but something about being called that by other people while wearing his clothes makes you feel like you just shifted realities into one where you’re with him and not so scared of his rejection. One where you’re dating and you get to be called that all the time– one where the words are true. 

You’re being foolish again.

You look at Eric in shock, noticing him already staring down at you with a panicked expression on his face. You don’t really know what’s going on in his head behind the shaking orbs of his, a tight-lipped smile offered to his mate as the tips of his ears burn red, a hesitant tone of voice making it known that the possessive words caught him off guard just as much as they did to you. “Well, not exactly…”

The male trails off. Your stomach does that weird thing again. You’d say there’s a soaring hint of hope in your chest, swimming around your intestines, that you want to simultaneously help and also drown in fear of holding on to something that is not even there in the first place, as you look back at Yeonjun. He is now staring the two of you down– shifting his gaze from one of you to the other, a knowing grin appearing on his lips as he processes the situation. 

“O-oh… Okay, I see what you mean,” he nods, laughing. “Well, see you two later! I’mma head to the stage,” he pats Eric’s shoulder and waves at you before fully disappearing from the never-ending drink line.

A suffocating silence engulfs the two of you after his departure, making you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek. The thoughts running through your brain almost suffocate you before Eric brings air into your lungs again, making your inner monologue stop as he casually speaks up again, showing you that nothing has changed in your dynamic after this interaction and there is no reason for you to feel awkward with him right now. 

You just need to silence your thoughts and feelings more efficiently. These slip-ups can’t keep happening.

“What will you have to drink?” he asks.

“I’m not telling you, because then you’ll get it for me and I decided I’m paying today,” you say, batting your eyelashes innocently at the male.

“I can just pay anyway, you know?” he laughs, making you shake your head.

“You don’t have to do that,” you hum. “Actually, I don’t want you to. You keep getting things for me, so I think this is the time to repay the favor.”

“Damn it,” he sighs. “That was me paying the Y/N subscription, though. How will I manage to make you keep hanging out with me now?” he jokes, shaking his head.

“Stupid,” you giggle, teasingly pushing him out of your way. “What will you get? And don’t say nothing, it’s my time to pay the Eric subscription fee.”

“I actually get paid in hugs and cuddles, so this doesn’t work on me,” the male shrugs, avoiding eye contact with you. 

“Damn,” you hiss through your teeth, acting distraught. “That payment is long overdue, then. Wonder if they’ll come and take my house, or something.”

“I heard they won’t if you pay back what you owe,” he states casually.

How can he say such things with a straight face? Does he not realize just how much his sweet words affect you? Does he not know you feel like he has a magnet inside of him at all times that is begging to pull you in and glue you to his side, always and forever? Is he unaware of the effect his arms have on you whenever he puts them around your shoulders in public, or to the way your hands sweat whenever his fingers mindlessly drag themselves along the length of shoulder while doing so?

Or does he know and only wants to drive you crazier, more insane? Does he enjoy your misery?

“Hope it’s not a lot, then,” you joke, watching as the boy finally looks at you, eyes soft and glimmering, shoulders shrugging.

“I’ll hand the accounting over to you,” he says. “I trust that you’ll figure it out.”

Punching him in the shoulder lightly, you shake your head at his antics. “Peach iced tea, then?” 

“How did you know?”

“You always get that one when you’re driving,” you say, walking up to the counter.

He lets you pay for the drink this time, eyes glued to your figure. You’re unaware of the way he watches you in the crowd, just as much as he is of the fact that he doesn’t have to fear an older, taller band guy stealing your attention away from him. 

You come back to your friends with the drinks in hand just in time for the show to start. You watch the stage and grin at the sight of the frontman you just met having the time of his life during his gig, while the boy next to you watches your face every time a love song appears on the setlist.  Neither of you are bold enough to dance together to the slow beats the way Izzy and Sunwoo are, lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes. You share knowing looks instead– growing shy when you hum the lyrics off the well-known songs Yeonjun’s band covers and the words get too intimate. 

In the tune of love by wave to earth, though, when your heart skips a beat as Eric’s hand accidentally brushes against yours, you decide they wrote the song about him– not that you’ll ever admit that out loud.

The doorbell rings. Alone in the apartment, but knowing exactly who you’re expecting to see on the other side of the door– well, at least who you’re hoping to see– you shuffle towards the hall in your socked feet, taking your sweet time, your pace slow. There is not much energy stored in your body after today, and even though you wish to just bury yourself under the covers of your bed and sleep until you regain everything that your internship took away from you– until you don’t feel so bad about yourself and so defeated with your efforts– your small, fragile heart yearns for the presence of one person in particular, making you sheepishly order pizza through their website, because you know he has work today and there is no other way for you to see him.

Reaching for the handle, you open the door and reveal your busted appearance to Eric Sohn standing at your doorstep with a box of pizza in his hands, a light pink hoodie covering his figure, eyes big as the moon staring at you all expecting.

“So? How did it go?” he asks, genuinely hopeful. The boy has been suspicious of your mood ever since you got the final presentation on your internship over with and you didn’t instantly text him, telling him how it went– and the look he finds on your face only further proves his suspicions.

Your face morphs into a deep frown, trying to bite back your tears. His cheerful demeanor drops the moment he sees you struggling, not wasting a second as he shifts towards you and makes you back up into your apartment, putting the pizza box onto the coffee table in your hall before throwing his arms around your body, leading your grabby hands to hold on to the fabric of his sweater.

“It was terrible,” you sniffle, feeling the palm of his hand cradle your head into the crook of his shoulder, petting your slightly matted hair. A few tears escape your eyes and roll down your cheeks, making your whole body shake and tremble in his hold. 

You don’t usually show how affected you are by disappointment. You feel a bit humiliated, a bit embarrassing for both flunking your presentation and also for showing your weakness in front of Eric, but his gentle nature and the comfort you feel in his sheer presence is enough for you to forget about the hurt. You try to focus on the warmth of his skin instead, on the way his arm soothingly runs down your back, making you ground yourself. There is not much you can tell him in your current position, words getting caught in your throat, but it’s still enough for him to understand.

“I worked so hard on it,” you mumble, “I tried so- I tried so hard, and then they said it w-was bad and–”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he hums, holding you closer to him. 

You’re not used to not being instantly good at everything. It’s something you have yet to come to terms with after getting into university. You’re no longer the top of your class and you aren’t the best at all assignments and final exams you take anymore– and it’s a big kick to your ego. It makes you feel useless. It makes you feel stupid.

And that’s world-shattering. The image you once had of yourself is now taken forcefully away from your hands, replaced by disappointment and shame from the fact that you’re only mediocre and everything you thought about yourself up to this point was just a mere lie.

“Y/N, you tried your best. And I know you feel bad now, but I’m still proud of you for working so hard– it’s not your fault your efforts weren’t appreciated,” he says close to your ear, trying his hardest to be the calm after the storm for you.

After a few moments spent breathing in his scent, anchoring yourself to his presence, you force yourself to pull away from his chest. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, averting his gaze– because still, this is all so new to you and you don’t really know how to let yourself feel less foolish for your sudden outburst– you shrug and clear your throat.

“Uhm… thank you,” you mumble, “sorry for…”

“No,” he shakes his head, suddenly moving to take off his shoes. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“You’re… Eric, you have work, you can’t just stay. I don’t want you to get in trouble–”

“They can’t fire me,” he chuckles, trying to make light of the situation. After you watch him with worried, guilty eyes– because even though the logical part of your brain is telling you to throw him out of your apartment and just go eat the pizza you ordered as you bite back your own tears, the emotional side of you really wants him here, it really wants him close. He moves towards you again and ruffles your hair, gentle eyes watching you, preventing you from protesting any further. “It’s okay, Y/N. You need me here more than they do tonight, trust me.”

“I feel bad now,” you mumble.

“I know,” he playfully notes, “that’s why I’m here. Besides, you’re more important than work anyway.”

“That’s a pretty fucked up list of priorities,” you laugh airly, trying to mask the way his words have your heart squeezing on itself, nervous gold swirling in your stomach.

“It works for me,” he shrugs.

The moment you move back towards your room, the realization of the fact that Eric’s never seen it before sinks in fully, suddenly making you nervous about the act. Everything feels strangely natural as he enters the space, though, feet shuffling towards your bed as he takes a seat on the comfy mattress. However, your eyes still nervously scan your room, chewing on your bottom lip as you wonder if the perception of you has changed after seeing the state of you, the state you live in. “I’m sorry, it’s kinda messy–”

“Y/N.”

Looking at him, noticing the encouraging, gentle gaze he offers you, everything around you shifts in its axis– the world stops, giving you a chance to breathe, a chance to exhale, and the weight slowly disappears off your shoulders. 

“Relax,” he laughs softly as he reaches for your hand, tugging you towards him. Taking your place in between his legs, towering over the sweet creature in your bed, you feel like you can finally breathe more easily now that he’s here.

It’s okay, you realize. Magically, today no longer feels like the end of the world. 

His thumb gently swipes across the back of your palm, making your insides turn into a putty, a soft smile slowly mirroring his appearing on your previously frowning face. 

“I’d like to, uh..” you clear your throat, shying away from his gaze, “pay back the missed subscription fees then, if I can.”

Your bold statement has the room fall into an overbearing silence. For a moment, you forget it’s Eric who you’re with– the man that never judges you, the only one that makes you feel safe– as you go into a momentary panic. When you dare to look at him again, though, you notice him eagerly searching for your gaze, a boyish smile playing with his lips showing you that he doesn’t mind you asking– quite the opposite, really. He enjoys the preposition.

The male leans back in your bed and watches you as you climb next to him. For a moment, you don’t really know what to do, being too shy to hold onto him the way you truly want to, but the male wastes no time as he shuffles a bit in your sheets and moves to his side. One of his arms sneaks around your middle, pulling you to him, as his leg carelessly swings over your feet, trapping you in. His whole body weight rests against your figure, but it does nothing to suffocate you or take air out of your lungs– quite the opposite, really. 

You feel content in his hold. Your hand instinctively holds onto his forearm, keeping him close. If you could, you’d crawl into his skin, make a home in his chest and stay there, protected from all bad. What you don’t realize is that there’s a little fort in his heart reserved as a house for you already– one he guards and lets no one into– the unspoken, tender words now hanging everywhere around the corners of your room.

“The pizza will get cold, though,” he mumbles, tone of voice low from the close proximity of him next to you, the desire to protect the intimacy showing through the hushed out words.

“I’m not hungry,” you say lazily– exposing him to the fact that it’s not the food you needed tonight when you were ordering. “I kinda feel sleepy, though” you admit, letting your eyes rest a bit. You’ve been restless ever since you came home from work today– you didn’t know all you needed to finally turn off your endless stream of thoughts was Eric’s presence.

“Sleep, then,” he hums. “I’ll heat it up for you when you wake up.”

You let out a disapproving sound.

“You need sleep. And also food,” he scolds you, his other hand somehow sneaking itself under your figure and into your hair again, playing with the strands and scratching at your scalp. “You’ve been stressing out for so long, no wonder you’re so worn out right now.”

You feel like you’ve been laid bare, exposed right in front of his eyes. You feel naked and fully vulnerable, but you make no effort to shield yourself from his gaze, for it’s not prying and unwanted, but gentle and caring– so much to the point you feel like it’s going to consume you. Your head spins and your heart aches with deep yearning– it’s strange. 

You already know what that feeling is: 

You’re falling, falling, and falling.

All there’s left is to hope he won’t drop you. All there is left is to hope he’ll catch you on your way down.

Your body shifts so it’s facing him, your breathing mixed. Your faces are inches away from each other, making you afraid to open your eyes and study him from up close– for you think he knows how to read you too well by now, and your lingering gaze would tell him too much. Eyes don’t lie, after all– they never do.

“You did well,” he hums. 

The shattered pieces of your tender heart spill themselves into his outstretched palms. You watch as he mends them together, sewing them with an invisible, red string. The boy silently leans into your face and his lips press a gentle kiss to your cheek, only further strengthening your decision to stay blind in the moment, not wanting to reveal just how much you’re affected by the tender action. 

It’s been a long drop– a slow one, one you could get used to. Still, you’re falling, falling and falling,

And even though you’re unaware, he’s there all this time, waiting at the bottom, his arms open wide. 

The idea of celebrating the end of the exam season with Izzy, Eric and Sunwoo by going bowling is quickly and forcefully taken out of your hands when you arrive at Sohn's Pizza to pick the boys up, all dressed up and ready. The place is full of people, there is screaming coming out of the kitchen, and while usually, Eric or Sunwoo would be greeting you by coming out of the back and welcoming you in, there is no one in your sight– which makes you just the tiniest bit suspicious.

Sharing a concerned look with your roommate, the two of you curiously walk through the place and peek behind the counter, being met with emptiness as more screaming resonates through the kitchen. You don’t mean to intrude or listen in on a conversation you’re not exactly invited to, you really don’t– but you just can’t help it as the sound of Eric’s angry, frustrated voice cuts through the space, catching not only your attention, but also everyone else’s in the restaurant.

“I don’t care that dad is too scared to hire someone into our sacred family business!” he huffs. “I don’t give a single flying fuck, because now, our plans are ruined again, all because they decided to go on a surprise holiday and they left us three to deal with the whole place!” Eric ironically sings the words ‘surprise holiday’ as he expresses his frustration, showing how much the whole situation bothers him.

“Eric, calm down, people can hear you–” you hear Lisa muttering, making you chuckle at the interaction between the siblings.

“So if dad wants to go on a holiday ever again, he either hires someone so we don’t have to be here 24/7, or I quit!” he finishes his little rant. 

There is a moment of silence behind the thin walls, making you and Izzy stare at each other with a blank look– a look empty, but full of understanding that there is no bowling happening today and there is nothing you can really do about it– before the sound of dishes hitting the floor hits your ears, making you wince. The fall is followed by a pained voice full of misery.

“FUCK!”

Izzy chuckles, opening the door to the kitchen without much hesitance, inviting the two of you into the chaotic situation. Taking a step towards the room behind the staff only sign which you ignore because Izzy thinks she’s basically a part of the family now, you look around a bit anxiously, being met with the sight of Eric picking up bowls and pans from the floor and throwing them back into the sink to wash, Sunwoo adding topics to a pizza with furrowed brows and his bottom lip jolted out (clearly sulking), and Lisa checking up on the food in the oven.

All three pairs of eyes are glued to you the moment the sound of the door opening fills the space, two sets lighting up and the third one looking at you with pure curiosity. 

“Need any help around here?” Izzy chuckles, looking around. The place is messy– covered with sauce in some places, flour all over Sunwoo’s apron, soap and water dripping down the cleaning station. It’s clear as hell the three of them aren’t handling the after-exam Friday rush well by themselves, and although you mourn the idea of relaxing in a bowling alley with your friends after the hard weeks of finals, you can’t say you’re too disappointed.

You can’t play bowling, after all, and you still get to see your friends– so it’s no big deal.

“No, you don’t have to–” Eric starts, ever-so considerate.

“It’s okay, we just–” Sunwoo follows, the two boys not wanting to share the responsibility that’s not yours.

After hearing each other interrupting their dismissive words, the two look at each other and chuckle. “I’m afraid we can’t hang out today, though. As you can see, our parents left the place to us and went on a holiday–”

“We heard,” you cut the owner’s son off, a teasing grin on your face shutting the boy up instantly, to which he offers you a shy look as he drowns his hands in the sink again, trying to tackle the dishes. 

Walking over to the poor boy reminding you a little of a wet dog now, since his bangs are damp as well, making you believe he’s been running his hands through in frustration mid-washing up– you take a kitchen towel off one of the shelves and decide to dry off the plates he’s done scrubbing, putting them away neatly on one of the trays situated next to the sink and getting them ready for the next customers. You don’t really ask what to help with, since you’re sure Eric and Sunwoo wouldn’t tell you either– feeling bad for making you work with them instead of taking you out like they promised they would– you only tackle what seems to be the most important task in the moment, helping out the best you can.

“Izzy, I’m really sorry for exploiting you,” Lisa starts out, making the whole room laugh out at her joke, “but for a free pizza or maybe even two, would you mind doing the waitressing for a bit? I fear people out there are mad as hell, but maybe if you tell them we are short on staff today–”

“I’m on it!” your roommate nods and salutes to the older girl, disappearing back into the main area of the pizza place. Since she has some experience with waitressing and working in the food service, you doubt there is anything to worry about.

The kitchen quiets down, the only sounds heard being from the sink, an occasional sigh escaping Sunwoo’s throat– he really must have been looking forward to this day– the atmosphere growing less heavy and hectic with two more pairs of hands in the building. You know they don’t want to admit it, but the boys are secretly glad for the help– it makes working so much easier and less nerve-wrecking to the employed youngsters.

“I’m sorry,” falls out of between Eric’s lips after a while, low and sincere. You look at him from your place to the left of his figure, furrowing your brows at him in question.

“Huh?” you voice out, watching him shrug.

“Well, we were supposed to hang out today and now we can’t, so…” the boy trails off, making you chuckle and coo at him, touched with his sincerity.

“That’s not really your fault, so I don’t see why you’re apologizing,” you say, “besides, we are still hanging out now, no? I don’t mind the location change,” you smile, slightly bumping your hip into his, the kitchen towel now getting damper and damper with the amount of dishes you’ve dried off with it in such a small time frame.

The two of you continue on with the task, all while playfully bumping hips from time to time, trying to catch the other one off guard with the contact, grins shared between the two of you. You barely register Izzy coming in and out of the kitchen, telling the cook– Sunwoo– the new orders, Eric and you pulled into your own bubble, attention focused mostly on each other, then at the otherwise domestic act accompanying you in your interaction.

“Exams went well?” Eric asks. 

Nodding, you hum in agreement. “Some were harder than others, but I didn’t fail any, so that’s a win. You?”

“About the same,” he grins. “I mean, the grades aren’t great, but I passed all of them, so…”

You laugh at his comment, shaking your head at his attitude. You wish you could take school and all of its responsibilities with as much ease as your friend does– too bad you’re an anxious over-achiever and don’t really know how to relax ever.

“Academic weapon,” you joke.

“Oh, that’s your title,” he says as he finally scrubs off the last plate and turns the tap off, placing it into your hands to dry, “I don’t even try, because I don’t wanna take it away from you,” he jokes.

“So considerate,” you muse, rolling your eyes at him. The boy wipes his hands on the towel hanging off your arm, the two of you sharing a playful look– Eric’s eyes swirling with honey and gold inside, making you all warm and fuzzy. You find it hard to look away.

The noise of someone suddenly clearing their throat catches you off guard and pops the soap bubble you’ve been trapped in with your friend, making you look at the source, curious what his sister has to say. She is looking at the two of you with a teasing smirk on her face that instantly makes your cheeks burn– for you know you were caught staring too much, too long at her younger brother– before she points to the pizza boxes in front of her, towering so much they almost topple over and drown her in the baked dough and cheese.

“I need you two to do the deliveries,” she muses, “if you don’t mind, of course.”

Shaking your head, showing that you’re completely fine with the task, the two of you walk over towards the impressive pizza tower. Eric takes the bigger half into his hands while Lisa puts the car keys onto the box on top of your smaller stack, sending you a knowing look that you try to ignore. 

Walking out of the place, noting that one person could very well do the deliveries alone after loading up the car, but also realizing that even though you could be more needed inside, you kinda wanna spend more time with Eric, you wait for him to shut the car door and tell you the next instructions.

“I think the most efficient way to do this is one of us driving and the other one going up to the doors with the orders,” he muses, watching you nod in understanding. “I can drive, if you want?”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, not really happy with the mental image of talking to so many people tonight, you huff. “I kinda wanna drive, though…?” you peep. 

The male stares at you for a few seconds– as if contemplating if you’re safe enough of a driver, or something– before he places the key into your hand and closes your palm, entrusting you with… pretty much his life, if you really think about it. In his defense, it only takes one wrong turn and both of you could be dead– but he seemingly believes in your abilities.

After you get into the driver’s seat and adjust it to your liking, making sure you can see in all of the mirrors, you pull out of the parking lot with ease, turning with Eric’s directions. You see him watching the map on his phone, making sure you know where to go in time to not turn this drive into an amateur redemption of The fast and the furious: Tokyo drift. You drive smoothly, getting to the destination in short time, stopping in front of the targeted house and watching as your friend gets out of the car with a few pizza boxes, jogging up to the front door.

The sight makes you remember how you met him a few months ago. It makes you chuckle, noticing how much has changed– you didn’t even want pizza that night, but today, you’re driving him in his car, watching as he makes the deliveries. 

“No strange notes asking for cute delivery boys?” you joke when he gets to the car and tells you to drive straight until he says to turn right, making him chuckle.

“No, not really,” he shakes his head, “but I think it’s funny how Sunwoo didn’t get to go, yet it still landed him a girlfriend.”

“I mean, they were both pretty desperate,” you admit, chuckling. Your foolish brain can’t help but wonder– what if it could land both of them a girlfriend? What if you were bold enough to confess your feelings one day? 

“True,” he nods, “they go well together.”

“It’s still miserable to watch them interact sometimes, though,” you joke.

“I’m sorry, I tried my hardest to prevent it,” he muses.

Furrowing your brows, you look at him in confusion only for a second before you focus back on the road. “Huh?”

“I physically fought Sunwoo so I could go deliver those pizzas to your house back then,” he grins. “Back then, it was because I genuinely believed I was the cuter one, but I think that somehow, I kind of felt it, y’know? Like, intuition. It was telling me ‘Eric, don’t let Sunwoo deliver those pizzas, because then your friend will get into a relationship and make every second with him miserable, because he can’t shut up about his new girlfriend–”

You cut him off by laughing, shaking your head at his antics. Eric points towards a street, hinting that you should turn, having you follow his orders. 

“I like your confidence,” you say, “but to be fair, seeing you show up at my door was kind of crazy, after all these years.”

“You make it sound as if you disagree with me,” he casually utters out. 

Your hands sweat on the steering wheel. Maybe you should swerve off the road and drive into a tree so you can avoid this conversation.

“Maybe I do,” you shrug, thankful that driving makes it easier for you to avert your gaze from him and not make it seem like you’re forcefully avoiding him.

“So we’re just gonna ignore the fact that you called me the hottest–”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m crashing the car–” you threaten, your voice coming out a bit more miserable-sounding than you intended it to, showing just how not casual the whole situation was for you.

“Look, you don’t have to be shy about it, we both know–”

“Okay, passenger princess,” you shut him off, watching as the boy next to you has a visceral reaction to your comment.

“I literally offered to drive!”

“Whatever you say,” you muse as you make the car stop at the next destination and let Eric out to complete another delivery.

After the boy jumps inside of the car again, he ignores the previous topic of the conversation. That fact makes you happy, since you don’t really know if you’re ready to face the problem at hand– the problem being the very obvious and strong, magnetizing feelings you have for the boy– so you only continue to drive, listening to the radio he puts on and his occasional humming that he slides in through the directions he gives you.

He continues to deliver all the pizzas they baked when he announces that you’re approaching the last destination. You can’t say you’re happy about the fact– since you started to quite enjoy the comfort of the drive, but you guess you can’t really prolong the moment any more and force it to last forever, no matter how much you’d like it to.

Eric walks out of the car with the last three boxes in his hands, knocking on the door. The commotion lasts longer than usual, making you suspicious of the interaction he has with the man at the door, before you see the boy shrugging and walking back to the car, one pizza box still in his hands. To say you’re confused would be an understatement.

“What happened? Did we mess up somehow?” you ask, motioning towards the pizza box in his hands.

“I don’t think it was us who messed up,” Eric snickers, “apparently, they only ordered two pizzas, so I think Sunwoo accidentally made three.”

“Oh,” you hum, nodding in acknowledgement.

“But that’s fine, because that means we can have this one for free,” the boy grins at you as he puts on his seatbelt. “Let’s move a few blocks so we don’t just stay in front of this dude’s house, though.”

You furrow your brows at him, but still start the engine nonetheless. “Shouldn’t we head back? I bet we should hurry, from how packed it was, they surely need our help–”

There is a lack of worry in Eric’s face as he shakes his head in disapproval. It seems that neither of you really want to go back to Sohn’s Pizza and work– because it’s not as fun as driving around together, singing along to the radio– but the lack of empathy towards his sister and his friends surprises you. “I’m sure they will survive a few more minutes. Come on, Y/N, the bowling didn’t work out, so let me make it up for you at least this way.”

His pleading voice does enough to persuade you as you drive down the street and then a few more blocks to the left, trying to find a calm place where you could park the car and won’t bother anyone as you eat the remaining pizza, while also trying to forget about Lisa, Izzy and Sunwoo alone in the pizzeria working their asses off. You feel a bit guilty with the idea in your brain, but you try to push it back with the image of spending more time alone with Eric– and suddenly, the previous is almost too easy to ignore.

Little did you know that this was Lisa’s plan all along. While you may be a bad wingman, Eric’s sister surely isn’t.

Stopping in front of one of the houses that seems to be empty, turning the engine off and undoing your seatbelt, you spin around to face Eric as he opens the pizza box and gasps at the sight of the cheesy dough. “I’m pretty sure this was fate, man,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “There’s no way we are left with your favorite. Extra cheesy too, damn...”

“This is unbelievable,” you agree, playfully clasping your hands together in prayer. “Thank you universe for the sign. You were right, we were supposed to stay out longer.”

“I’m always right,” he nods, watching as you eagerly take a triangle off the greasy cardboard and bite down into it, your taste buds cheering in joy as you chew on the treat.

Eric is quick to follow as he takes one for himself as well, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as you eat. You didn’t even realize you were hungry before– your intentions being to eat at the bowling alley– and so you welcome this idea even more now that your stomach is less upset. Crossing your legs on the seat, not really caring about getting the car dirty– which in retrospect, you should’ve– you hum before you speak up again, already on your second piece.

“If you were a pizza, you’d be this exact pizza right here,” you hum. You don’t really know where that idea came from, but you think you’re speaking the truth– in your mind, it makes total sense.

Eric stares at you like a confused puppy, a slight grin appearing on his face showing you that he’s trying to see where that came from. “Why?” he asks. “Because you love me?”

Here it is again– the heat appearing on your cheeks from the panic, embarrassment filling your veins. You feel like you were caught in the act, like he sees right through you– with how he’s been acting the whole evening, you think he might have some sort of intuition. Still, you won’t admit to your feelings out loud– because there’s no way they’re reciprocated, and you won’t cause such a heartbreak to yourself willingly. 

Eric is just social like that. He is sweet, playful. There is no undertone to his actions– it’s just who he is as a person, and there is no way he likes you back.

“No,” you cough out, almost choking on the pizza. “You’d be a margherita, because it’s a safe choice. Everyone likes a margherita! It’s fun, and it’s–”

“Tasty?” he interrupts you, a shit-eating grin already plastered onto his lips. “I taste good too, wanna check?”

You think he might be teasing you just for the fun of it now. He loves to feed on your misery, because he sees right through you, he knows you’re absolutely, incredibly enchanted by him, and it strokes his ego to rile you up and make you flustered. You’re sure of it now. “Oh, shut it!”

Eric laughs out loud before he swallows another bite, shrugging. “If you were a pizza, you’d be hawaiian.”

“Hm? Why?” you ask, busying yourself with chewing on the cheesy dough in your hold. 

“Because you are both salty and sweet,” he starts, “and I didn’t expect to be so into it.”

His words make you stop in your tracks. He didn’t expect to be so into it. Does he mean he’s into you, or are you just reading too much into his words? Trying not to seem too affected by his words– trying to play it casual, nonchalant– you clear your throat and avert your gaze from him, continuing to chew. The pizza in your mouth loses all its flavor the longer you focus on it, turning into a mass of nothing to your taste buds. After the last bite, you’re left mortified with the realization that you have nothing to focus your attention to now, if you don’t want to face your friend again and take another slice in between your fingers from the pizza box resting in his lap, and so you just continue to stare ahead, beaten up by the awkward silence.

Play it cool, Y/N. Be normal. He must think you’re weird now, because you wondered even for a second if his joke was serious, and now he won’t want to hang out with you ever again–

“So, uhm, just checking,” Eric awkwardly laughs, something about his tone sounding nervous in your ears. “Are you really still that oblivious, or are you just pretending you didn’t catch that to not hurt my feelings because you don’t like me back…?” he asks.

Your heart does a somersault. Hell, you think you just went into cardiac arrest– your ears are ringing, your stomach is floating on water and your breathing quickens with his words. Having a full visceral reaction does nothing to help you speak back to him, but your body reacts on itself as you snap your head to the side and finally look at him, gazing into his big, honest eyes.

He looks at you in a similar way he did back at that party– expecting, hopeful. You didn’t catch it back then– the eager, desperate look in his orbs, wishing, praying you chose him in a room full of people, picked him in a row of anyone who would like to have you. It leaves you weak, it leaves you feeling like you were just punched in your face with the realization that you’ve been foolish to ever think that this was just how Eric acts and there was nothing more to his acts of care and affection.

“I-  uh… I just didn’t expect you to like me back…?” you say, making it sound like a question, still uncertain about the whole situation. “I thought you were just…” you trail off, pupils shaking as you watch the boy’s face morph out of nervousness into a bright, amused smile.

“Look, I’m– I just–” you stutter, not really knowing what else to say, how else to express yourself. 

Eric was always much quicker than you, much more clever in social situations. He takes your lack of words as a hint as he holds onto your honest, surprised state and takes it upon himself to solidify the reality for you, to show you what the two of you’ve been missing for the last couple of months. Reaching over the gearstick, he gently glazes your cheek with his palm before he sends a one last look to your eyes, watching out for any sign of discomfort. 

His lips lock with yours. You’re convinced the world stopped turning.

Eric Sohn is sweet like cherry cola. He is a taste of familiarness with something more to it, something new and fresh, sugary and addictive. He is gentle, with an exciting aftertaste, leaving you breathless and wanting more. He is like a hint of home, a memory of your childhood, all safe and loving and tender. 

The kiss is short. It has you leaning towards him, a handful of his hoodie filling up your fist as you desperately, foolishly drag him to you and press your lips to his again, as if to check if the last kiss was real and you didn’t just make it up in your mind by wishful thinking.

You guess you finally reached the bottom after the long, slow fall. You don’t even feel the landing as his arms hold you up and spin you around instead, showing you that falling in love doesn’t have to be all that scary– if the one you want is caring, if the one you want is nothing short of an angel in your eyes.

After you pull away from him, he rests his forehead against yours and enjoys the proximity which he doesn’t have to hide the need for anymore– now that he’s all yours to keep and you’re all his to hold.

“You really thought I didn’t like you back? Hell, Y/N, you’re all I ever think about,” he scoffs, showing you the ridiculousness of your own beliefs, his ever-so playful tone only further solidifying the sweet aftertaste of his confession. “I like, have butterflies in my stomach and all,” he confides, grinning at you. 

Rolling your eyes, finally easing into the new territory, you tease him for his words. “That was extra cheesy.”

“I thought you liked that?”

Gazing into his eyes, feeling your own heartbeat hammering against your chest, you can’t help but chuckle at the subtle irony of it all. 

“Maybe I do.”

[itsbeeble]

TRY HARD

SUMMARY: Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

GENRE: smut, crack, fluff, minimal angst

PAIRING: Lee Juyeon x afab!reader (ft. sangyeon, sunwoo, and chanhee)

WC: 8.7k (oops)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @winterchimez @juyeonszn

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: name calling (reader calls Juyeon stripper boy, baby, and pretty boy. Juyeon calls reader pretty girl), swearing, mentions of college parties, Y/N roasts Juyeon like a lot, Juyeon stops a door with his foot, one bed trope (for like two seconds), sunwoo slander (learning from Fawn <3) Juyeon is not god's strongest soldier, masturbation (m and kinda f), p in v sex, implied unprotected sex, restraints are used, dom!reader kinda, bratty!Juyo kinda, really poor attempts at humor, i think there's more but that covers the big stuff

A/N: This was NOT supposed to be almost 9k. It was supposed to be 3k at MOST but i will not lie i will prolly end up doing this again for most of the fics I'm putting out for this collab oops. Anywayyyyy let's kick off the collab with arguably my funniest fic.

The first time you meet Lee Juyeon, you’re dressed in sleep shorts and the biggest sweatshirt in your closet. He’s standing at your door, and for a moment you can’t help but be confused by the fact that yes, there is a hot man in a white tank top and cargo pants leaning against your doorframe. And yes, he is, in fact, there for you and not the girls living down the hall from you. 

And, to be fair, it wasn’t your fault that you thought he was a stripper. Really, it wasn’t. It’s not every day that you see a guy with a body to die for and the face of an angel. 

“Are you some sort of stripper?” For a moment, the two of you are quiet. There’s a look of pure astonishment on his face that eventually turns into him fighting back a grin. 

“Do you want me to be?” His tongue brushes over his lower lip while he scans you up and down and you scoff. 

“No. The girls you’re probably looking for are down the hall, the last door on the right.” You begin to shut the door. “Have fun.” 

“Wait!” His foot catches in the door before you can slam it shut and you hear him swear loudly. “Shit, that did not feel good.” 

“Are you fucking stupid?” You swing the door open again, scowling at him. “Why would you try to catch this heavy ass door with your foot?” 

“I thought it would look cool!” He winces, one hand gripping your door frame and the other cradling his aching foot. “Like in the movies!”

“I don’t know if you know this…” you trail off, squinting at him and realizing you have no idea who this man is. “Stripper boy,—”

“Juyeon,” you can practically hear his teeth grinding as he speaks. You hum.

“Stripper boy,” you bob your head. “That’s what I’m gonna call you.”

“Please don’t—”

“Anyway,” you interrupt again. “I don’t know if you know this, but romance movies are fictional. Of course, it’s not gonna look like the prop door and they’re gonna catch it like it’s nothing. This, however,” you hit your fist against your door, “is solid metal. Not gonna feel good when you catch this shit, dumbass.”

“Whatever,” Juyeon rolls his eyes and straightens his body out. “I was just making my rounds across campus, wanted to see if you’d be interested in supporting your local fraternity.”

You raise an eyebrow, reaching your hand out to take the flier from his hand. 

College Hunks Hauling Junk!

Need to get rid of some junk? Well, these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited-time offer)

Scan HERE to book your appointment!

“College hunks hauling junk,” you can’t help but laugh at the name and take the flier from Juyeon’s hands. He grins at you. “People are actually paying you guys to haul their shit away?” 

He shrugs. “It’s free, technically. You’re allowed to donate, but we’re really just doing it for free. You know, help out fellow students and spread the word.” 

“You sure it wouldn’t be easier to just do some stripping if you can’t pay the rent?” You ask. “Also, what do you mean spread the word?” 

“I’m glad you asked.” Juyeon points a finger at the bottom of the flier, completely disregarding the first part of your sentence. Fuck, his hands are big.

This ad also doubles as your invitation to Tau Beta Zeta’s parties for the rest of the semester. Cash this in at any time and get into ANY parties for free! (Code word will be given at the time of flier being cashed in) (Girls get in for free, Guys $5 @ the door)

“We’re having a little competition with the sorority down the road from us,” Juyeon explains. “Whoever has more people by the end of the semester gets to host the end-of-the-year party and the other frat or sorority has to buy food and drinks.” 

You stare at the paper for a second, pondering your options. Then you smile, look up at the man that you are still pretty damn sure is a stripper, and hand back the flier. 

“I’m good, thanks.”

The door shuts, and you turn to go back to bed. The sound of paper sliding across the ground stops you, and you can see in the faint light that streams under your door that Juyeon slipped the flier into your room. 

Fucking try hard.

The second time you see Lee Juyeon, he’s handing out fliers again. Only he isn’t walking around random apartment buildings with a weird seductive look that you honestly don’t doubt was working. This time, he’s in a hoodie and jeans and walking around the center of campus with people that you can only assume are his frat brothers. 

At first, you almost don’t recognize him, but then his eyes meet yours, and you can see the corners wrinkle when he smiles. Again, you’re confused. Is he smiling at you? 

Your head whips around, trying to find someone around you that he might be looking at, and when you turn around again, Juyeon is approaching you.

“Have you thought about it, pretty girl?” He asked and you stared at him dumbly for a moment. Did he just call you pretty girl? 

“Thought about what?” He holds up that flier again, placing it in your hands similarly to the other night. “Oh.”

“Did you think I was kidding?” He leans down slightly, keeping eye contact. Your free hand places itself on his chest— which you hadn’t realized before was very solid— and pushes him back. He barely moves. In fact, you are the one who gets pushed back. 

“Listen, stripper boy—”

“Juyeon—” 

“Stripper boy,” you mimic the exasperated tone he uses with you. “If I wanted an invitation to a stereotypical frat party with a bunch of drunk 20-somethings and cheap beer and bad pizza and try-hard men like yourself, I would’ve gone by now.” You fold up the flier, smoothing out the edges before holding it out to him. He doesn’t take it, and you can see the gears turning in his brain. 

“So what you’re saying,” he starts to smile and steps toward you again.”

“Stripper boy,” you warn.

“…is that there’s a chance?”

“Absolutely not, there is not a chance in hell that I’m gonna call some college hunks to haul junk out of my college apartment that I can barely afford to live in let alone pay you to take things out of.” Juyeon shrugs.

“Like I said, payment is optional and can come in…” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, “many different forms, pretty girl.”

“That’s gross, stripper boy.” You scrunch up your nose and he laughs. “Also, why are you calling me that?”

“Calling you what?” his smile only grows and you huff. 

“Pretty girl.”

“Because you are a pretty girl.” 

“No, I’m—” You catch yourself in the sentence when he leans forward onto the tips of his toes, ready to stop you. “You know what, fuck you. I know that was a dirty little trick and I’m not gonna fall for it just so you can swoop in and say something like oh nooo, don’t say that about yourself! You’re so pretty! And then you’ll tuck my hair behind my ear and you’ll try to kiss me and then—” You stop yourself again. Juyeon’s smile is almost scary at this point, stretching all the way across his face as if this had been his plan all along and you walked right into it. 

“And then…?” He teases. 

“…fuck you and your frat, stripper boy. God, you guys are such try-hards.”

You hold onto the flier this time, whether too embarrassed to give it back or genuine curiosity, you aren’t sure. You do know that you can’t stop the pounding in your chest, or the heat rising in your cheeks. 

“Who was that?” Sunwoo slings an arm over Juyeon’s shoulder, both men watching you walk away with the flier held tightly in your hand. Juyeon smiles. 

“Just someone I know.” 

“Didn’t look like she was too happy to see you.” Sunwoo snickers and drops his arm down to stand straight. Juyeon turns to the younger man, the smile he had when standing with you now gone and replaced with a permanent scowl. 

“Who even asked you, Sunwoo?”

The younger raises his hands in defense. “I’m just saying! It looked like she hated you. Oooh, maybe you’re finally gonna get that enemies-to-lovers arc that Eric is always— WHOA, HEY—” Sunwoo nearly trips over himself trying to get away from Juyeon as the older frat brother swings his arm out in his direction. “Don’t hurt this pretty face! How else is the soccer team gonna get their funds?” A hand in the shape of a finger gun finds its way under Sunwoo’s chin, and the star soccer player smirks. 

“I think they’ll manage,” Juyeon swings his arm out again, wincing when Sunwoo lets out an ear-piercing squeal. 

It’s like you’re seeing him everywhere. Every class you go to, it’s like he’s always there handing out fliers or chatting with his friends. And, unfortunately, every time you see him, he sees you too. He animatedly waves at you, calling your name or running over to you. Every time, you somehow end up with another flier to add to your collection.

For weeks you’ve been seeing him in places that you swear you’d never seen him in before. You swear that he’s not in your environmental course. You swear that he’s not in your sociology course. He just has to be following you. 

That, or you just have shitty luck with Lee Juyeon.

It must be bad luck, you think as you watch the fire department evacuate your flooded building. It must be, you tell yourself as you stand there in the pouring rain in pajama shorts and a sweater, sans an umbrella. There’s nothing else it could be.

Your eyes narrow at the sight of Juyeon standing near a group of girls with those damned fliers in one hand and some umbrellas around the wrist of the other. Your hands tighten around your arms, body shaking from the cold of the rain. Your lips twist into a deep frown when he approaches you, his eyebrows knit together and his lips pursed at the sight of you. His mouth opens to say something, and you hold your hand up to stop him. 

“Save it, stripper boy. I don’t want your fucking spiel right now.” His shoulders slump a little.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted an umbrella.” He holds one out, the last one on his arm. “You have to be freezing right now, and you’re absolutely soaked.” Your hand wraps around the umbrella, your eyes still narrowed with suspicion.

“Thanks…” he smiles and backs up to give you space to open it. You would never admit to his face that he was right. That you were freezing your ass off in this godforsaken weather. 

“Are you okay?” You look up at him, sniff, and shrug.

“I mean, my home is currently flooding which leaves me homeless for at least a few days. It’s piss-pouring rain out here, I’m in my pajamas with all my clothing inside the flooded building, and now here you are probably trying to get me to buy from your stupid fundraiser thing.” You take a deep breath, finally looking him in the eye. “So no, I don’t think I’m okay, Juyeon. Thanks for asking.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then a small smile breaks onto his face.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve called me Juyeon.” You bite your tongue and turn to walk away from him. “Wait, fuck, Y/N it was a joke. I’m sorry.” He grabs your arm, pulling you back to him. You can see a little bit of panic in his gaze. 

“Yeah, well it was a shitty joke.” You scoff. 

“I know, poor taste, I was just trying to lighten the mood.” He pulls his hand from your arm, and you almost feel bad. It’s quiet between you two, and you think that this is the first time it’s ever been completely silent. Well, save for the chatter of other tenants and incoming sirens and the yells of officers. 

“This fucking sucks,” you grumble, and Juyeon huffs out a laugh.

“Do you have anywhere that you go?” 

You shake your head. “Nah, none of my friends have space for another person in their apartment or dorm.” 

“You could stay with me.” He says it so fast, so suddenly, that you thought you misheard him at first. 

“Excuse me?” Juyeon clears his throat, his cheeks and ears flushing and you can’t tell if it’s from the cold or embarrassment. 

“I— I mean you— I’m just—” he stumbles over his words and you smile. 

“Is the Lee Juyeon embarrassed right now? In front of little ol’ me, nonetheless?” 

“I’m not embarrassed,” he snaps, pressing the back of one of his hands to his neck in a poor attempt to cool himself down. “I’m just— I—”

“Juyeon,” your hand comes up to his arm and he flinches. You let your arm drop down to your side. “Are you trying to ask me to stay with you while the building is being repaired?” 

You’re smiling at him, and it’s like that tiny action brings back all of his previous confidence. He’s smirking again, leaning down under the tiny umbrella he gave you. It’s your turn to blush now, but your eyes don’t leave his.

“Because,” your voice nearly betrays you. “That would be a little…odd…wouldn’t it? A girl living with, what, ten men? People would talk.” He hums.

“But they would also find it odd if I just…left you to live in your car for god knows how long, wouldn’t they?” His hand is on your waist, and the breath in your lungs hitches. 

“That’s true…” you hum and pull away from him. “I don’t have any clothes, though. I’d need to find some before doing anything.” Juyeon clicks his tongue and leans back, a thoughtful look taking over the previous…you don’t even know what to call what you were doing. Was he flirting with you? Were you flirting with him?

“That’s true,” he nods his head. “We can grab some from the store tomorrow? And for now, you can borrow some of my stuff— I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.” He stumbles over his words again, and you can’t help but laugh. “Kevin’s clothes might fit you better but— you’re laughing. Why are— why are you laughing at me.”

“You’re just—” You break into another fit of giggles, covering your mouth with your hand to try and muffle the noise. “God, you’re so dumb.”

“How am I dumb?” Juyeon pouts at you, and you know he just wants you to be comfortable. 

“Never mind,” you wave him off, “let’s just get going. I’m tired and wet.” Juyeon raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. “Not like that, stripper boy.” 

“I know,” he grins at you and tugs you by the sleeve to get you to start walking. “I just wanted to mess with you a little bit.”

“Seems like that’s all you do.” You roll your eyes. “And please tell me you drove here. I am not walking to the house in shorts and slippers.” Juyeon clicks his tongue. 

“As if I would walk anywhere in this weather.” He reaches into his pocket and you hear the click of a button, and then the lights of a car in front of you light up. He jogs forward, grabbing the handle of the passenger side door for you with a bright smile on his face. “After you, m’lady.”

“What a gentleman,” you shut the umbrella and duck into the vehicle. 

“Only for you, pretty girl.” He winks at you and shuts the door.

Juyeon is quiet when you exit his bathroom. Your hair is wrapped in a towel, your body swamped in Juyeon’s clothes. He’s lying flat on his back on his mattress, his legs dangling off the edge and his fingers drumming on his stomach. Your feet shuffle against the ground, the fabric of his sweatpants covering your feet entirely and dragging behind you. His t-shirt is almost like a dress on you, hanging down to your thighs and the sleeves baggy along your arms where it would be formfitting on him. 

“Where should I put these?” Juyeon lifts his head, and you hear a sharp inhale. He’s staring at you, and the gaze is heavy with something you can’t place. 

“You—” his voice cracks and he sits up fully, resting his elbows on his knees. “You can just toss them in the basket next to you. I’ll— I’ll wash it tomorrow.” You hum, doing as he says and tossing your clothing into the basket. 

His room is…weirdly clean. At least, it’s cleaner than you expected it to be for a frat boy. There’s a bit of laundry scattered across the room, sure, but you don’t feel gross just standing there. The floor is clean, the bed is made. 

The bed.

The one bed in the room. 

“Where— where should I set up a spot to sleep?” You wring your hands behind your back.

“What?” Juyeon stares at you dumbly, his eyes blank and jaw dropped slightly. If you look closely, you swear you can see a puddle of drool on the floor in front of him. Unintentionally, you snort and immediately slap a hand over your mouth. 

“I just— I mean this is your room, stripper boy.” You shrug, trying to keep the air as light as possible. “Where should I set up camp for the next three days?”

“You are not sleeping on the floor.” Juyeon shakes his head and pushes off the edge of his bed.

“Then where am I gonna sleep?” 

“The bed?” He says it as if it’s obvious. “The fuck? You really thought I was gonna make you sleep on the floor?” 

“Stripper boy, I am not sleeping in your bed.” You click your tongue.

“Yes, you are, pretty girl.” He takes a step toward you. “I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor! First of all, you’re a guest. Second of all, I’m a gentleman. Third of all, I’m—” he cuts himself short again and you raise an eyebrow.

“Well, then I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs. That’ll solve it.” You move to the door, but he grabs your upper arm and pulls you toward him. “Dude, you have got to stop grabbing me like that. It’s kind of annoying.”

“Sorry.” He exhales and lets go of your arm, brushing his hand across the skin he grabbed as if to soothe it. It sends sparks of heat through your arm, and you fight back a shiver. “I just— what if we share my bed?” 

You stare at him for a moment.

Then another.

And then another.

And then Juyeon is wincing and stepping away from you. 

“I was just— that was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“I mean…” you purse your lips. “If it solves the problem, then sure.” 

“Wait seriously?” His eyes bug out of his head and you laugh. “You’re comfortable with that?” 

“Stripper boy, if you thought I was gonna kick you out of your bed, then you have a whole new thing coming.” He rolls his eyes. “We can just…I dunno. Put pillows between us?” 

“Yeah, that works. That works just fine.” He sighs heavily. Just fine. He’s gonna be just fine these next few days.

Juyeon realizes very quickly that it will not, in fact, be fine. He realizes this when he wakes up in the middle of the night, the pillows between the two of you thrown to the edge of the bed and your body wrapped around his like a vice. One of your legs is hooked around his, the other strewn across his hip to lock him down. You have one arm tucked under his, holding his shoulder while your free arm has slipped around his waist, under his shirt so your fingers are splayed across his abdomen. Your head is seemingly strategically placed on his chest, and he can feel every breath you release. He can feel every pulse of your heartbeat against his leg—

Wait.

…

Oh, this arrangement is not going to be good for his heart. 

He tries desperately to shift away from you, to gently pry you off of him, anything to get the pounding in his chest to go away. Anything to stop the blood from rushing to his dick like some goddamn virgin. It’s a normal thing. It’s not something to get fucking hard over, Lee Juyeon. Pull yourself together.

It feels like ages before he’s able to pull himself free, nearly falling out of his bed to get away from you. He freezes in place when he hears you shift, a quiet moan leaving you when your sleeping self finds the spot Juyeon once lay frozen is now empty. His heart is pounding, his feet padding quickly against the floor to get to his bathroom. He’s quick to shut the door, cringing at the squeak of the hinges. Gotta get those fixed, he notes. For future reference, of course.

He’s hard in his sweats, his dick straining against the fabric, and his body feels like it’s on fire. Juyeon leans against the counter, tapping his foot anxiously while he stares at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and his pupils are blown out. He grips the marble counter, squeezing his eyes shut and praying to god that he softens soon because he cannot and will not jerk off to you. Not when you’re right there, one thin wall over. 

Thinking that was a mistake. His dick twitches in his pants at the thought of you waking up and finding him in the bathroom, cock in hand, and frantically trying to rub one out. 

Oh, he’s so fucked, he squeezes his eyes shut as he shoves his sweatpants down just enough to be able to grab himself. Just enough for him to spring free and let the cold air wash over him. 

Juyeon is completely, royally fucked, and he knows it as he spits on his hand. He knows it when he wraps his hand around his cock. Juyeon knows it when his body shudders from the first pump of his hand, the brush of his thumb across his tip. He knows it when he fights the whine trying to erupt from his throat. 

He knows it when he cums in his hand, ropes of white covering his palm when he places his hand over his tip to minimize the mess. He knows it when all he thought about was you. You and your pretty face. You who calls him stripper boy, who hasn't hesitated to shoot him down every chance you get. You who he’s pretty damn sure is into him in the same way he’s into you.

It’s hard for Juyeon to get back in his bed and lie down next to you knowing that just a few minutes ago he came in his hand to the thought of you. It’s even harder for him to fall back to sleep when you wrap yourself around him again, relaxing against his body and releasing a contented sigh. He tries so, so hard to relax with you, to steady his pounding heart. 

God, he’s so fucked.

"When did you get here?” There’s a boy— a man, really— standing at the counter when you and Juyeon walk into the kitchen in the morning. The man is holding a ceramic Garfield mug that you assume is filled with coffee, and he’s got his phone in his free hand. You give him a short wave, and he nods back at you. 

Juyeon had been odd the whole morning. Or, at least, the two hours you had been awake and the one hour since he’d woken up and immediately rolled to his feet to get away from you. Something about morning wood. Since then, he’d been keeping a healthy distance from you, flinching away from your touch and giving short responses to your questions and statements. It makes you nervous. Were you intruding? Did he regret asking you to stay? 

“Last night,” Juyeon answers for you, leading you to the bar counter and pulling out a chair for you to sit in. “Y/N, this is Sangyeon. He’s the Tau Beta Zeta president. Sangyeon, this is Y/N. She’s gonna be staying with us for the next couple of days.” 

Sangyeon squints at you, gnawing at his lip in thought. 

“And you guys are…what? Friends? Lovers? Fuck buddies?” You scoff and Juyeon whips his head around, nearly spilling coffee onto his hand. 

“None of the above,” you wave your hand and almost miss the flash of emotion in Juyeon’s eyes. “Just someone who needed a hand, and strip- Juyeon happened to be there.” Sangyeon turns to Juyeon with an inquisitive look on his face. Juyeon shakes his head and turns back to you with two mugs in his hand. 

“I didn’t know how you take your coffee so I just threw some cream and a bit of sugar in there.” The mug he slides over to you is shaped like a ladybug, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you at the sight of his mug. Normal, compared to yours. Just plain white with text that says ‘Stupid people shouldn’t breed!’. “What’s so funny?”

“Just the…interesting arrangement of mugs you all have here.” You smile at Juyeon, but he just scoffs. Sangyeon excuses himself and pats Juyeon on the shoulder before making his exit up the stairs.

“I’ll have you know that I picked these all out.” He defends, but you can see the embarrassment in the flush of his cheeks, the dark color spreading to the tips of his ears. “You got a problem with them?”

“No, no,” you smile into your mug and take a sip. It’s bitter, and a bit watered down, but you’re grateful for the caffeine boost. “It’s cute, really. You made some great choices, stripper boy.” 

“That sounded sarcastic,” Juyeon pouts at you and you shake your head.

“It wasn’t!” You reassure him, leaning your torso onto the counter. Juyeon stands near you now, on the shorter edge of the counter and he scoffs. 

“Sure it wasn’t. Because you’re the most supportive person in the world of my decisions.” He turns away from you, staring at the magnetic words on the refrigerator instead of at you and you rise from your seat to stand by his side. 

“Juyooo,” your voice is sing-song in tone and Juyeon fights every instinct inside of him that screams to pin you to the counter and fuck you senseless. “Are you mad at me?” 

“Of course I am,” he rolls his eyes and tilts his chin up when you come to stand in front of him. 

“Why?” You frown, but the corners of your lips fight to turn up.

“You made fun of me!” 

“Yeah, but it was all in good fun!” You protest. “I think your choice of mugs was cute!”

“No you don’t,” he scoffs and crosses his arms. “You think they’re stupid.” 

“No,” you shake your head. “I think they’re adorable.”

“Bullshit,” Juyeon says. “You think they’re stupid.”

“I do not.” You groan. 

“You do!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do no—” 

Juyeon’s lips are on yours, and you let out a startled gasp, your hand flying up and finding purchase on his chest. 

You try to push him off, you really do! You think about it, you tell your body to push him off, and then somehow you end up pulling him closer, allowing your eyes to slip closed. Isn’t it so weird how that happens?

Your hand is holding his shirt tightly, keeping him close to you while your lips mesh in a sloppy kiss. His lips are rough against yours, his teeth nipping at your lower lip and then his tongue slips out and soothes the bites. The repeated actions have your legs trembling, your breathing becoming shaky, and your hand that isn’t in his shirt rises to the back of his neck to tangle in his hair and pull him impossibly closer to you.

His hands are all over you. They run up and down your waist, brushing under the waistband of the sweatpants he lent you, pushing into your back to keep you close to him. They run under your shirt, grazing the underside of your shirt, and he smiles when he feels you exhale shakily against him. 

You hesitantly, and ever so slowly, push your tongue out, letting it run across his lower lip and you’re a bit too pleased when he opens up for you immediately. He lets you push your tongue into his mouth, lets you explore, and is ever so patient with your hesitance. 

Gently, oh so gently, he sucks on your tongue while you try to pull it back into your mouth and you release the tiniest, almost inaudible whine. 

Apparently, to your complete dismay, this snaps Juyeon back into reality and he pulls away from you. He pulls away quickly, almost stumbling back and into some of the bar stools. You’re standing there, almost in a daze, and both of you just stare at each other for a moment. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, and Juyeon can tell that you’re regretting what the two of you just did. 

And it hurts. It really hurts when you open your mouth, going to speak and nothing comes out. He smiles sadly. 

“I should find a way to get to the store. You’re gonna need some clothes for the next few days.”

“Juyeon, wait—” You reach for him, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s fine, pretty girl.” He reassures you, but his voice breaks and betrays him. “No hard feelings. Let’s just forget it happened.”

“I don’t want to forget that!” You protest, but Juyeon just shakes his head.

“Like I said, pretty girl,” He grabs his mug and smiles at you. There’s no emotion behind it, at least not one that you want to recognize. “We gotta get you some clothes for the next three days.”

It’s infuriating how quickly he seems to move on. Three days pass by, and not once has he even hinted about talking about what happened. It was almost like he’d forgotten about it entirely.

Which, to your dismay, was exactly what he wanted you to do. It wasn’t as if you regretted the kiss, at least not in the way he thought. The regret that you knew you had let slip was from pulling away in the first place. You had only meant to come up for air, knowing that you would likely drown in him had you given yourself the chance. Now, due to your own stupid mistakes, the tables have turned for you. 

He’d been avoiding you since you moved back into your apartment two days ago. He’d avoided you in the classes you were now all too aware that you shared. It stung that he no longer sought you out, no longer yelled your name from across the room, and drew unwanted attention to you. He no longer pressured you to call the number on that damn flier that sat untouched on your desk.

“You could always just, I dunno,” Chanhee is lying on your bed, scrolling on his phone while you rant about his frat brother. “Call the number? I’m pretty sure it’s his number anyway.” 

“Wait seriously?” You spin around in your desk chair, turning away from the project you two are supposed to be working on together. 

“Yeah, it just happened to be really convenient that the last four digits of his phone number spelled junk. What do you think of this?” He flips his phone around to show you a coat. A black trench coat, nothing too fancy about it. 

“Eh. You have plenty of those, don’t you?”

“True.” He nods and lays back down.

“Should I really call him?” You lean your head back on your chair, lacing your fingers together on your lap. “What if he hates me, Chanhee?”

“Trust me, Y/N,” Chanhee exhales heavily, “that man does not hate you.”

“But how do you know that?” You ask. “If he told you that, he could be lying to you!”

“Girl,” Chanhee throws his phone down onto your mattress and sits up straight. “If a man hates you, he is not going to jack off at 3 in the goddamn morning— with his frat brothers in the other room that connects to his bathroom, mind you— to the thought of you. Trust me. He doesn’t hate you.”

“You don’t— I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes are bugging out of your head and Chanhee grimaces in a way that tells you that he was not supposed to tell you that. 

“Oops…” 

“What do you mean he— Chanhee, what are you talking about?” Chanhee is already rising from your bed, grabbing his laptop, and sliding his shoes on.

“I think it’s time for me to get out of here,” he tells you with a tight smile on his face. He comes toward you though, holding the flier in his hand. “But, I really think you should call this number. Could really help you both, I think.” 

When the door shuts behind your classmate, you sit in silence for a moment. A few moments, really, just holding the first flier that Juyeon ever gave you in your hand. There’s a little bit of water damage from the flooding, but the number in the middle of the page is still there. It’s almost ironic that Juyeon’s phone number is the only part of the advertisement that isn’t ruined, like something was telling you that you needed to call Juyeon. 

Your phone rings once, then twice, and you hear the line click on the other side.

“Thank you for calling College Hunks, what junk can we haul for you today?”

It takes Juyeon a little over an hour to get to your apartment. By that point, you’d gathered anything that you didn’t want into trash bags and set them in your living room. Each bag is organized to an extent. Things to be recycled, to be donated, or just thrown away. Most of the items that needed to be thrown away were damaged when your apartment building flooded, each damaged beyond repair. Almost like fate, isn’t it?

There’s a knock on your door. One, two, three. Your hands are shaking a bit when you grab the door handle. One, two, th—

You practically rip the door open before Juyeon can finish knocking. He’s standing there, wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open. The outfit he’s wearing is the same as the day he first showed up at your door. White tank top, cargo pants, and some worn-out sneakers. For once, his hair isn’t styled. He’s parted it down the middle, a little bit of gel used to keep it from falling into his face too much. 

“Hi,” you breathe out. It’s like Juyeon is stuck in a trance, his hand still frozen mid-knock and his mouth opening and closing like a damn fish. “You— do you want to come in?” Juyeon blinks. 

“Uh…yeah, yeah sure.” You step to the side, allowing him to walk into your apartment. It’s awkward, to say the least. When you shut your door, the click makes both of you flinch and suddenly you’ve forgotten everything that you wanted to say to him. 

“Is this—” Juyeon’s voice cracks a little bit, and he turns to face you but he doesn’t look you in the eye. “Is this everything?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, “yeah it is. Needed to get rid of some stuff after the building flooded, you know?” You laugh, but he doesn’t and you’re quick to shut your mouth. Say something, dammit. Anything. Your mind is screaming, whether at you or Juyeon you aren’t entirely sure. “Juyeon, can we ta—” 

“I should get started then,” he cuts you off and you grimace. “Got a couple of appointments today, so I can’t linger for long.”

“Right…” your voice trails off. “Yeah, I’ll get out of your way then.”

Plan A is a bust, then. 

Juyeon moves quickly. You don’t know if it’s work ethic or if he wants to get away from you as fast as possible, but it stings. You don’t say anything to each other the whole time, not that you staying in your bedroom the whole time did anything to help the situation. You can hear him moving around, carrying bag after bag down to his car, but not once does he come to talk to you. Not even about the junk he’s carrying out. 

Your forehead is against your desk, your eyes shut tightly as you try to block out the noise, knowing that he’ll be carrying out the last bag soon. The sound of your feet tapping on the ground is almost enough to drown out Juyeon, but not quite enough to drown out the knocking at your bedroom door. 

Your head snaps up, and you spin around to face Juyeon. 

“Hi,” he gives you a tight smile. “I just— I brought out the last bag so I guess— I guess I should go, huh?” 

Don’t, you want to tell him, don’t leave yet.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You stand up and clear your throat. “Here, what’s your Venmo? I can send you some money.”

Juyeon shakes his head. “I already told you that you don’t have to pay me.” 

“Yeah, you did,” you agree. “But I’d feel bad if I let you leave empty-handed.” 

“I’m not leaving emptyhanded, though!” He argues. “I have your junk! Which, surprisingly, all fit into the trunk of my car.”

“Go you,” you cheer halfheartedly. “That’s not gonna stop me from paying you.”

“Pretty girl,” he warns. “I’m not gonna let you pay me.”

“Then I’ll get Chanhee to tell me your Venmo.” You grin and Juyeon rolls his eyes. 

“You’re not gonna let this go, will you?”

“Nope,” you let the sound of the p pop when you say it and Juyeon lets out a dry laugh.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?” 

“That’s the plan.” you look at him, and this time he’s looking right back at you. The awkward air has cleared, and it almost feels normal. Like it was prior to the kiss. God, please let Plan B work. “Are you gonna tell me what your account is, or am I gonna have to find some other way to pay you?” 

There’s a spark of something in Juyeon’s eyes, and his eyebrows knit together. Please get it, please get it, please get it. C’mon Juyeon, don’t be dense.

“Some other way?” He echoes, and you mentally cheer when he steps toward you. 

“Mhm!” You bob your head. “Like you said, there are other ways to pay you, aren’t there?” 

He’s right in front of you now, and you swear you see him start to reach for you before he’s forcing his hands back down to his sides. 

“You’re not—” he inhales and squeezes his eyes shut. “Please tell me I’m not misinterpreting this.” 

“Depends on what you think I’m saying.” You smirk, and Juyeon starts to lean down, his eyes flitting from your eyes to your lips. 

“What I think you’re offering,” he speaks slowly and you can feel his breath on your lips. “Is not exactly…appropriate, pretty girl.”

“And I think you’re right.” You’re practically whispering, every movement from your mouth causes your lips to brush against his and you’re so close to caving and just yanking him down to crush his lips against yours. 

Thankfully, Juyeon moves fast and he’s grabbing you by the waist to yank you to him and your hands are in his hair by the time his lips are on your. 

This kiss is heavier than the first. It’s messier and sloppier and his tongue is in your mouth, pushing at yours and licking at every nook and cranny that he can reach. You walk him backward to your bed. You don’t separate your mouths, not when you push him down onto your mattress, not when you sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little crescents indented into his skin. 

Juyeon groans at the stinging feeling, sliding his hands under your shirt and gently pushing it up. He does it slowly, giving you time to stop him, but you get impatient and shove him back until he’s lying down. His hands are still on your waist, and he’s watching with a hazy gaze as you lift your shirt over your head and throw it somewhere across the room. 

“Shit, pretty girl,” he breathes out and tries to slide his hands up to your chest. You’re smirking when you slap his hands away. 

“No touching yet,” you tell him and he groans in response. 

“You can’t just do this and not let me touch you!” He whines. “It’s not fair!” 

“You should’ve thought about that before you ignored me for a week,” you retort and he falls silent. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just get you back with this.” Your hands reach behind your back and you swiftly unclip your bra and throw that in the direction you’d thrown your shirt in. Juyeon’s hands lurch up to touch you again but you’re faster, grabbing his wrists and pinning them down to his sides with a click of your tongue.

“Y/N please,” Juyeon begs, his breath hitching in his throat when you leave him completely, and he can only watch as you unbutton your jeans and tug the rest of your clothing off. He’s practically drooling as he sits up, watching you undress for him. He watches you walk to your dresser, digging through your drawers for a moment before returning with a long piece of silk. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking joking.” 

You laugh at his reaction and toss the silk onto the mattress behind him. 

“Why would I be joking, Juyeon?” You stand between his legs, and you grin when he doesn’t even try to touch you this time. You can see the tent in his cargo pants and let your hands trace up and down his thighs. “Take off your shirt for me?” 

There’s a dangerous look in your eye, one that Juyeon can’t find himself wanting to disobey and he’s lifting his shirt over his head without a second thought. Your eyes widen ever so slightly and Juyeon can’t help but smirk. He knows he’s attractive, knows that his body catches people’s attention and he’s proud of that. 

With you, however, there’s something different about how you look at him. Something primal, like a predator looking at her prey and he shifts in his spot. 

“Pants too.” He nods and rises to his feet again, tensing when you raise your hands. “What are you stopping for? Get moving, don’t you have other appointments to get to?” Your hands are tracing the lines of his abs, feeling the way he flinches at your touch. You continue to trace his body as he bends down to lower his pants and boxers to the ground. Your hands raise to the backs of his shoulders, to the back of his neck, and let them slip down to his pecs when he stands straight again. 

You almost let yourself falter when you see his cock for the first time. It’s big, bigger than any you’ve taken in the past, and you can’t help but imagine what he’d looked like when he was thinking of you. Did he look as messy as he does now, eyes practically crazed, his breathing labored as he fisted himself? Did he watch himself in the mirror, imagining it was your hand instead of his own? 

“So pretty, baby.” You breathe out, letting your hand drop down to wrap around his cock. He sucks in a breath, letting it out when he whines at the feeling of you running your hand up and down, squeezing at the base, and rubbing your thumb along the tip. “So pretty.” 

You push him back again, releasing him from your grasp and following him as he slides up your bed. You take the silk in your hand, gesturing for him to put his hands above his head, tying the silk tightly around his wrists so he can’t get loose. Juyeon lets out another broken whine when you straddle him, running your fingers over your core and gathering the wetness on your fingers. You allow yourself to moan quietly, gauging Juyeon’s reaction to you touching yourself. He’s staring with his mouth hanging open, his cock twitching against his abdomen as he watches you sink two fingers into your core. He whines when your body shudders against him, when you curl your fingers up into you. 

“Is this what you think about, Juyeon?” You try your best to keep your voice steady when you speak. “Do you think about this when you touch yourself? When you lock yourself in the bathroom, jacking off to the thought of me like some little virgin?” He doesn’t respond, too lost in the sight of you riding your own hand. 

He doesn’t see you reach your free hand up, gasping when he feels you squeeze your fingers around his throat. Not too tightly, but enough to get his attention back on you. 

“I asked you a question, baby.” You pull your fingers out of your dripping pussy, gazing at the arousal covering your hand and humming in thought. “I guess I should give a reason to not answer, shouldn’t I?”

“Please,” Juyeon whispers out, and you smile when you raise your fingers to his mouth. 

“Go on then,” you tell him, “suck.” 

His head lurches forward, taking your fingers into his mouth and moaning at the taste of you. He runs his tongue along your fingers, and you inhale sharply, your eyelids drooping when he tries to open his eyes, trying to watch and gauge your reaction. 

“Cleanin’ me up good, hm?” You pull your fingers from his mouth and Juyeon takes this time to catch his breath, to gather himself. You don’t give him long though, no more than a few moments before you’re grabbing his cock in your dainty hand and lining it up with your pussy. 

“Fuck,” Juyeon throws his head back, his hands curling into fists, and groaning as you sink down on him. Your walls are squeezing so tightly around him, and he knows it has to be a stretch for you but you act as if it was nothing for you, as if he didn’t hit that sweet spot inside of you just by you sinking down on him. You let your eyes drift shut, fighting back the urge to start riding him until he has nothing left to give you. You can feel him twitching inside of you, knowing that he’s close just from your warm walls squeezing around him. “Fuck, pretty girl, please.”

“Please what, baby?” You coo, the hand on his throat squeezing gently. He whines and you grin. “Use those words, pretty boy. You can do it.”

“Let me fuck you,” he gasps out and you let out a yelp when he thrusts his hips up and sends you falling over his body. 

Your breasts are in his face now, and he doesn’t give you the chance to do anything before he’s bringing his arms down and trapping you against him as best he can. He thrusts his hips up, driving his cock into you at a pace that you couldn’t keep up with if you tried. He reaches his head up, his teeth latching onto one of your nipples and practically forcing you to follow him as he brings his head back down. Juyeon sucks at your breast, pinning your chest against his face with his arms that he’s brought to rest between your shoulder blades. Every one of his thrusts sends you up his body, but he does his damn best to keep you in place, sucking and licking and biting at both of your tits, groaning every time your cunt clenches around him. 

You feel like you can’t breathe, the air being punched out of you in broken moans and pitched whines. Juyeon is in about the same state as you, the noises he’s letting out are louder than yours, more frequent, and it brings a fresh wave of arousal washing over you. 

“Are you close, pretty boy?” You gasp out. “Gonna— gonna cum for me?” 

“Fuck, yes,” He throws his head back, his hips stuttering against yours. You bring one of your hands down to your clit, rubbing furious circles into it, letting your walls flutter around him and drawing both of you closer to your orgasms. 

When you cum, it has you seeing stars. Your orgasm has you crying out his name, has you clenching around him so tightly that he’s finishing not long after you. You sink your body back, rolling your hips gently over his and placing a firm kiss on his lips. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, swallowing the sounds he makes as he pumps white hot cum into your core. It’s less of a kiss this time, though, and more teeth gnashing together and biting at each other’s lips. 

His hips slow down after a minute or two, and you let your body relax against his, reaching up to untie the silk around his wrists. 

“Fucking finally,” he groans and lets his hands roam your sweaty body. “Thought I was gonna die if you kept me tied up any longer.” You laugh, letting your head drop to his chest. 

“That’s what you get for making me wait.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at you. “And you called me a try-hard.”

“Because you are, Juyeon.” You roll off of him, staring at your ceiling while you lay next to him on your mattress.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl,” he rolls his head to look at you with a cheeky grin on his face. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” Your eyebrows knit together. He just keeps smiling. “What, stripper boy.”

“You know what all this means, right?” You shrug.

“That I have to go to all your parties now or you’re gonna hunt me down?” He laughs and you smile a bit.

“That, and I get to call you my girlfriend.”

“I never agreed to that.” You deny, turning on your side and facing him fully. 

“Sure you did! It was at the very bottom of the flier I gave you.” He tells you.

“No, it wasn’t.” You frown.

“Yeah, it was!” He sits up, reaching for the second flier he gave you that had been placed on your bedside table. “See? Right there at the bottom in tiny font that I knew you wouldn’t pay attention to!” You squint at the words he’s pointing at and let out a scoff.

“Seriously, stripper boy? If your name is Y/N L/N and you redeem this offer, you are legally obligated to become Lee Juyeon’s boyfriend, whether you like it or not. Xoxo.” You push the paper back into his hands. "When did you even put this on there? We hardly knew each other when you gave me this flier."

“I told you!” He beams and lays back down. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

"Cute, but that doesn't answer my question, stripper boy." He digs his fingers into your side, pulling you closer to him, and grins.

"Does it matter?"

"I mean...I guess not?"

"Exactly."

“Does this mean that when we break up, I get half of all your assets?” He glares at you playfully.

“Fuck, no.”

“Damn…” you sigh and lay down with your head on his chest. “I guess I’ll have to put up with you for life then, huh?”

“Mhm.” He cards his hands through your hair, gently combing through the knots. “You excited to spend the next 75 years with me, girlfriend?”

“Not at all, boyfriend.”

“Yes, you are.”

“…Try-hard.”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[ericscroptop]

You Got All Of My Attention

✧ pairing: bf! eric x gf! reader

✦ genre: fluffy smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn without plot, dry/wet humping, self-conscious reader about weight for a small portion of this fic but this fic isn’t centered around that and weight is not specified, cursing, teasing, kissing, so much grinding, oral— female receiving towards the end, handjob towards the end, marking, dirty talk, praising/praise kink, pet names, fluff, small aftercare

✦ word count: 6.9k words

✧ synopsis: touching each other sweetly and hotly is one of your favorite forms of communication.

✦ note: let’s all take a moment to appreciate pink eric bc i love pink eric sm— live laugh love pink ‘ric

also— *insert that one tweet where someone said they hope dry humping becomes the next pandemic*

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“What should I put on?” Eric voices to you from the living room with the TV remote within his grasp, eyes scanning through the various movies and shows on you guys’ favorite streaming service.

“Put on our comfort movie!” you answer from the kitchen, putting away leftovers from tonight’s dinner.

He knows exactly what you mean, and so his fingers press on the respective buttons of the control, navigating to find said comfort movie to play.

Once it’s successfully playing, he parks his rear on the couch. He folds his arms back, elbows up and hands behind his head. His thighs instinctively spread out as he leans his head back on the sofa pillows, eyes fluttering closed due to the comfort of the cushions and full-belly from dinner that has left him satisfied.

Meanwhile, you quickly finish cleaning up and strut gleefully towards the couch. You meet with your boyfriend, his eyes still shut, looking so laid-back and madly handsome in his loungewear— light grey joggers and a black fitted tank top.

You don’t hesitate in taking a seat right next to him, plopping yourself over the cushion and bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them.

The couch dipping causes his left eye to open while his eyebrow on the same side raises, corners of his lips tugging upwards now that you’ve joined him.

“Tired?” you question.

“A little, but I still wanna hangout with you for a bit before bed.” his voice comes out in a slight lower pitch.

You hummed in response. His eyes fully absorb your curled-up figure. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts, and it’s big enough to swallow a decent portion of your body. When standing up, it covers your bottom. But in this current position you’re in, your (his) shirt has bunched up enough to give him a glimpse of your seamless cheeky boy shorts.

It was common for you to roam around the house like that. Short-shorts or panties with an oversized t-shirt.

Still, his heart— and even his dick— swelled with various intense feelings. Love tied with lust mainly. As much as he appreciated the effort you would put into dolling yourself up and enhancing your features from time to time, he appreciated just as much when you wore casual clothing.

Especially when it was his clothing. God, how could you look so cute and simultaneously sexy while wearing his t-shirt?

There was a sense of pride that raised his ego when you would dress in his clothing. You wearing his shirt may not seem like anything special to some. But to him, it was a subtle form of intimacy.

You were comfortable with being engulfed in his clothes, and he always insisted on sharing his clothes without hesitation. To the point where you would find yourself in his closet picking through his wardrobe, and even having favorites that you both knew all too well.

Endearment resides inside his heart seeing you so carefree in his shirt, all relaxed, cute, and comfy. There’s something about that loose t-shirt of his that has been imbued plenty of times with his deodorant, cologne, body wash, sweat, laundry detergent, etc., and you wearing it, choosing to be protected by his scent.

Each of your scents would mix together, and it just tied your bond closer. As well as how you felt so safe around him to walk around in your underwear or lazy attire. It was so vulnerable since you always dressed up otherwise— or felt self-conscious occasionally in public.

But with Eric, he was that special person that got to see all forms and sides of you. He was the lucky guy that you trusted beyond words, who you loved enough to be home-free snuggled up in his shirt.

It was beyond adorable seeing you snug like a bug in a rug like this. Though, he can’t help himself in getting the hots for you in his clothes, too.

His shirt over your body was a mark of territory. It was not only a gesture that embodied values of love and connection, but it was also very possessive in a way. It’s like you’re wrapping yourself in his love, and something that has also caressed his skin, now caresses yours.

It doesn’t help that you chose to pair his shirt with solely panties. And, you’re braless underneath.

Your current attire leaves room for his imagination to roam freely, thinking about your bare body underneath, and how you’re his sweet girl, looking so dainty in his shirt swallowing you.

Fuck. The dinner you two had left him stuffed, but you’re currently working up his appetite again. He has the urge to bite your cheeks and squeeze your body out of fondness, as well as kiss you until you’re breathless and feel you up shamelessly until you’re squirming and surrender to his touches.

Your eyes are currently trained on the screen, embracing your legs tightly while focused on one of your favorite scenes you’ve watched over a dozen times.

This makes him frown unconsciously, wondering why you didn’t immediately jump your bones on him as soon as you sat down on the couch. Your attention is caught elsewhere. I mean, you did want to watch a movie together. But you could at least be cuddled up in his arms. Why hug yourself when he’s right here?

You say something aloud to your boyfriend, but Eric doesn’t catch it, too busy sulking mentally at the fact that your body wasn’t close enough to be touching his own.

His lack of response makes your facial features shift into a concerned expression, looking over at him in question.

It is then that you see him appear a bit petulant. He doesn’t realize he’s pouting, brows slightly creased as he’s lost in his pettish, whiny thoughts.

Although his lip protrudes naturally, his lips are pushed forward more emphasized than usual. It makes him look rather cute, honestly. You have to push back your instinct to coo at him to instead, question what is the reason for that frowny look on his face.

“Eric? What’s wrong?” you query, perplexed by his down-looking appearance.

The ring of you saying his name hitting his ears gets him to perk up, features softening once he makes eye contact with you.

His heart is practically melting, and he can’t wait any longer to openly display his affection for you. He’s gonna take matters into his own hands.

“C’mere.” he motions with both his hands to come closer to him.

Your eyebrows raise in curiosity as you inch closer until your shoulders are basically touching, making that pout on his lips reappear once you stop since you deem that as close enough— but not in Eric’s mind.

He takes it upon himself to hoist you onto his lap, leaving you to panic at the sudden act.

“What— Eric! That tickles! What are you—”

“There we go.” he interrupts your frantic spouts of words. He spreads his legs enough to get you comfortable, adjusting your body to straddle him and holds you by the hips.

Heat blossoms in your cheeks and your body stiffens from being caught off guard, now seated right over your boyfriend.

Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck to keep yourself secure, and you felt a bit tensed-up.

Even though Eric loved getting handsy with you because you were too lovely to ignore, and you two have been dating for awhile now that you should be used to his impulsive urges of getting you onto his lap— for instance, it would get you all bashful.

Right now, you were conscious of your weight over his lap, hoping you didn’t make him feel uncomfortable in bearing your body in this sitting position. You also were mindful of any movement you could make, knowing you could accidentally hurt him or it be sensitive.

But he just smiled at you with a beautiful twinkle present in his eyes, pleased to be this intimate with you. Him wanting and guiding you on his lap is his display of physical affection and emotional connection towards you.

“Such a pretty baby over my lap, hm.” he speaks sweetly to you, which is second nature for him. He tucks a strand of loose hair that got in the way of your face, behind your ear to soak in your facial features with clarity while he cooed at you.

“Eric.” you whined and drew out his name with a shy chuckle. His eyes continued to scan all over your features, absorbing them admiringly, leaving you sheepish from the spotlight on you.

His staring initiates you to look away on impulse, but his movements are faster. Before you know it, his dominant hand grabs hold of your jaw gently, prompting your eyes and lips to widen slightly.

“Let me appreciate my girl, yeah?” he utters, beginning to thumb your cheek affectionately to ease you up.

His words continue to leave you flustered. Your tummy feels like butterflies are fluttering around wildly, and a spark of heat bursts all over your body.

A soft smile adorned his features, thumb still stroking your cheek. All that was in his mind was how you’re the prettiest girl in the world. Solely focused on how you’re dangerously close in proximity to him, engulfed in his scent.

Eric was such a flirt, always direct in showing you how he wants you. And although he liked toying with you for amusement, his actions were also because you were too seductive and irresistible to ignore.

He loved your cute reactions when he complimented you or touched you. He knows you also feel strongly for him, but you were just too shy sometimes to initiate touches, accept compliments, or even with simply maintaining eye contact.

“I like having you close like this.” he announces before chasing one of your cheeks with his lips, making your face scrunch up cutely from the incoming kiss as he dots his lips just over the apple of it.

You’re overwhelmed with various emotions that leave you feeling like mush from his lovey-dovey behavior. When he pulls back, his hands rub your sides soothingly through the fabric of your shirt, making you remember how your weight sat right over him.

“Are you comfy like this? I don’t wanna sit here for too long if—”

He cuts you off with a tsk, in disbelief that you’re even asking him that when he’s the one who pulled you over him.

“Always feels good when you’re in my arms. You rarely sit over me like this. Never wanna let you go.” he speaks lowly, reassuring that you’re fine just where you’re at by wrapping his hands fully around you. He engulfs you into a hug, his chin pressing against your shoulder, making your cheeks squish together.

One of his hands inches lower to your rear, cupping the area protectively, out of fondness.

Your beautiful form and scents right in front of him was such a rush and provided solace to his senses.

You felt the same way. This warm cuddle session was so heartening that your boyfriend cared about you. This moment of togetherness was peaceful, bringing you feelings of tranquility.

It felt good to be loved explicitly. Being indulged constantly with both physical and verbal reminders that Eric cherishes you.

You decide to reciprocate that reassuring physical affection by plopping your lips over his temple, allowing your lips to linger a bit atop his skin while strands of his hair tickled your nose.

The aroma of his hair care products hits your nostrils, making you hum, comforted by his signature scents.

You pull back soon to check out your boyfriend’s face. His face is sitting pretty with a grinning gaze written over him.

Taking advantage of this proximity, you inspect his features worshipfully.

His gleaming eyes blink at you curiously, eyeing the way your own pupils scan over him.

During your gawking, your mind and eyes appreciate all the handsome features of your lover: The small mole on his left waterline. His high nose bridge. The crescent-shaped scar next to the corner of his mouth on his right side. His full bottom lip. All of his details were exquisitely crafted, leaving a face that should have a portrait in The Louvre.

As beautiful of a person he is on the inside, his outside is equally as beautiful.

There’s silence for a minute or so as he allows you to stare at him. He wanted to bask in this moment of you eyeing him up close for a bit, since it was rare that you’d allow yourself to stare openly like this without growing shy quickly.

His mouth stretches into a sly smile, finding you so charming in this moment. It’s also gratifying watching the way you look at him. Almost like you’re in awe of him, so fixated on him.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he cocks his head slightly back, still smiling.

You know he secretly finds this amusing, making you let out a small giggle, eyes shying away for a second before returning to him. Your left hand sinks its way into his scalp, threading through his pink strands with your fingers.

“You’re just so pretty. Really handsome, ‘ric.” you voice, face vibrant as you continue eyeing him.

Your words make Eric chuckle. He rubs your body tenderly, enjoying this moment of you candidly admitting aloud to him how attractive he is.

Of course, he already knows how you feel about him. But hearing it aloud makes him feel validated— especially when you specifically called him pretty.

Pretty is traditionally associated with femininity and daintiness, and so as a man, it wasn’t common to be complimented with that word.

But he loves it. It’s so flattering, plus soft and sweet. He wallows in you giving him the highest form of compliments. Hearing his girl praise him with honeyed words left his face glowing, cheeks beginning to blush slightly. You make him feel more beautiful and better about himself.

An endeared little grin stumbles over his features. He has to hold himself back from wanting to bite your delicate cheeks out of his own cute aggression towards you. So instead, he settles for a little teasing.

“Am I now?”

He decides to squeeze one of your sides, resulting in you doing your best in not squirming due to the tingly stir your core and skin feel from his playful touch.

A small noise leaves your throat, a mix between a giggle and whimper. It’s quick though, and you let out a scoff right after, shaking your head a bit.

“As if you don’t know.” you muttered.

“Tch,” he makes that sound in turn and licks his lips, “I love it when it comes from you, though.”

“It’s so sweet to hear that my baby finds me pretty.” he purrs. You don’t miss seeing his pupils lower to leer over your lips.

Your arms clutched more tightly around his neck, afraid you would turn into jelly and tumble over as a result of his flirtatious behavior.

It’s all getting to you: Your arms around his neck, clinging onto him. The conversations shared with your breath so closed to one another. Your body seated over his, lips and faces millimeters apart. Him referring to you as ‘his baby.’ The mere sound of his voice.

Eric is practically tempting and inviting you to love up on him. You want to communicate your intense romantic feelings for him without words. Your vision darts to his mouth, then up to meet his gaze. Desire coats your orbs, and Eric takes notice of it, as it’s mirroring his own.

“Gimmie kiss.” he pleads with that velvety voice of his.

Before you know it, your lips end up meeting with a soft, gentle caress.

Your lips brush together in a slow, tender rhythm. Each other’s noses graze past jointly, engrossed in chasing the familiar taste of one another.

Suddenly you’re hooked and spaced off Eric’s mouth moving in sync with your own. Your fingers card through his hair while his own hands still reside over your hips, smoothing over your clothed torso.

Bliss washes all over you. The loving touches and brushing of lips are extremely addicting, keeping you both to continue with your movements, kisses deepening.

Just a couple tastes of his lips has you aching for more. Listening to each other’s breathing and feeling your bodies pressed tightly together is like fuel to the fire growing inside of you.

Even more so when suddenly you feel something growing and growing underneath you— that something being your boyfriend’s cock.

You withdraw your lips from his with a smacking sound and a slight moan. This prompts Eric to open his eyes, looking worked-up from the hot embrace you’ve shared.

He hunts for your lips for more, but you don’t give him a chance to kiss you again. Instead, you attend to his jawline with your mouth, running fleeting kisses along the sharp profile.

That makes him stunned, swallowing hard with his eyes shutting once again, allowing you to move your lips affectionately over his skin.

Your hormones are getting to you. You had the instinct to drag your lips over his sensitive spots, letting him be praised for his existence with your mouth.

Your kisses pepper down along his neck, causing Eric to writhe underneath you and softly groan. Especially when you hit that sweet spot of his.

You can’t restrain from smiling when he angles his neck to give you better access, and feel him start to grip at your shirt.

Kissing his neck has him raging inside. He’s going feral for you with the way you’re seated over him, kissing one of the most sensitive parts of his body.

He can’t handle being sensually loved like this for too long without him wanting to reciprocate that same energy at a greater volume.

“Baby…” he groans, making you hum against his skin, pussy pulsing at the sound of his gravelly voice.

“Look at me.” he adds when you don’t stop.

That gets your attention, so you retreat from his neck.

You flip your hair back and your heart is pumping rapidly in anticipation once you meet his eyes. They look loaded with lust, and it’s definitely a fact when he leans suddenly into your neck, mouth latching onto your skin in an instant.

A gasp leaps from you when you feel your skin pulled slightly into his lips, trapping the area.

He starts sucking intensely, and then releases every now and then to scatter kisses all over.

He’s dominating you now. His mouth travels all across your neck, even grazing his teeth over one of your earlobes and tonguing at the flesh.

Your senses are heightened, majorly aroused from being attended to.

Lost in the feeling, your hands travel to his back, finding themselves creep underneath his black tank, nails pressing into his skin due to how hooked he’s got you.

One of his hands cradles the nape of your neck, keeping you firm to his liking. When his mouth lands on the front of your throat, the slight pressure he gives your skin with his teeth gets you all tingly all the way down south. It’s impulsive for you to shift and jerk your hips down into him while he abuses your neck eagerly.

Your reactions make Eric release a breathy laugh. He always gets a kick out of worshipping his girl. Delicate moans leave your mouth. Dirty, but delicate. Hearing your noises is such a treat, sweet to his senses.

His hard cock getting butted by your cute bum cheeks is tantalizing the fuck out of him. It’s getting too hot to handle, but he wants more of it.

And it also seems like you’re seeking for more.

“Wanna hump me? Is that what you want?” he rasps out, continuing to work deliberately in painting love bites on you.

When the smutty question hits your ears, you whimper from a combination of neediness and meekness. You’re sure a pink tint colors your cheeks.

His lips remove from your neck due to your lack of words, eyes immediately searching for yours.

You start gnawing on your lower lip, trying to hold back on any more whiny noises while he kneads your thighs and hips, only teasing you more.

“Tell me what you want and i’ll give it to you, princess. Whatever you want, I want it, too.” His eyes are soft, but still radiate a provocative, thirsty look.

“I want this… wanna rub against you, just like this.” you vocalized and blinked shyly. It’s undeniable that you’ve been possessed by the horny gods. And so, you painfully needed stimulation towards your cunt— with the help of your beautiful boyfriend who is the reason why you’ve gone horny.

He gives you a broad smile, proud and pleased to hear you verbalize what you want— even if he had to encourage you to do so.

One activity that is one of your absolute favorites is dry humping. It does great service for you as it’s effective stimulation. Rubbing over and over that golden area of your sex felt euphoric and gratifying. Especially if you were rubbing yourself over your boyfriend’s body parts, expressing how turned on he got you.

The build up, tension, setting the mood, and losing yourself in the craving for more was extremely addictive sexual gratification.

For Eric personally, watching you make yourself feel good and full of eagerness to satisfy your needs is a high better than any drug out there.

Although sometimes it leaves him sore for a bit, he’d do anything to hear and see you sexually worked up. It also was like heaven for him, feeling his pretty girl wildly fuck herself over his crotch, allowing each of your bottoms to become marinated in lubrication and precum. It’s so dirty but hot.

His hands travel underneath your shirt, fingers roaming over your bare sides and middle. That causes you to suck in a breath, feeling ticklish to the direct skin contact for a second before you’re inflamed to squeeze your cunt against his bulge.

“Raise ‘em up for me, baby.” he instructs.

And you know the drill, raising your arms gleefully and allowing him to uncover your torso.

He readily removes and tosses your shirt to the ground. Your breasts sit bare now, staring directly at Eric.

His mouth is practically watering at the sight. He loves when you put on his clothes, but he also loves when you take it off to unveil your precious body. Bonus points if he’s the one taking it off you, just like right now.

“So beautiful.” he murmurs, so mesmerized.

Your pussy flutters from the flattery. You’re even more heated sexually and from your cheeks now that your upper body is naked.

Eric attempts to put his hand on one of your mounds, but you stop him with your own before he even has the chance, much to his dismay.

A confused expression is present on his face until you position his arms upwards, indicating that you wanted him to remove his top as well before you two got into it.

“Your turn.” you say cheekily, your boyfriend smirking in exchange and permits you to remove his shirt for him.

And so it’s off swiftly, upper body bare with a glimpse of his Calvin briefs, waistband visible.

“How the fuck are you so hot, Eric?” you practically moan out shamelessly, letting your hands explore his biceps and eyes to wander fervidly around his abdomen. His muscles flex as your hands and eyes roam over him, face smug.

“So vocal with praising me today.” Such a sweet girl.” his hands rub your thigh and the small of your back gingerly, tickled pink from your verbal and physical reactions to him.

He makes every inch of you tingle. You knead at his biceps intimately, touching him to show your cosmic appreciation and attraction for him.

Now that you’re both topless, he reaches towards your chest, not being stopped this time. You allow him to grab hold of your tits. His hands fondle and slightly bounce your breasts within his grapple.

“Love holding my girls.” he breathes out, relishing in how they hung and sat in his palms.

You continue to grip onto his arms as he touches your sensitive breasts, pussy pulsing from pleasure and desire.

You rut your clothed sex down into his crotch, sex aching for stimulation.

The delicious weight of you on top of his throbbing cock has him sighing wistfully. He needs more of you, and so, he encircles one of your nipples with his mouth, suckling gently, which makes you shakily breathe out and arch up into him.

You reposition your arms to wrap around his neck, keeping him close and steady.

His mouth persists in showing his full admiration to the beauty you possess with his lips and tongue, making shapes and sucking with intent.

He has you rocking your hips and dragging your core uncontrollably. You’re becoming cross-faded from his vigorous attention to your tits and off the nice feeling of his boner pressing against you.

You tug at his hair, displaying how strung-out he’s got you. It makes him growl while he’s busy stuffing his mouth with your chest.

He takes you pulling his hair as an invitation to advance back to your lips.

He rises from your breasts, searching for your mouth and locks his lips with your own fiercely.

The way he kisses you is ardent, and you don’t miss a beat in kissing him back with the same urgency.

“Mmmphh…” you whimpered as he slips his tongue in and brushes it against your own. You take every move he gives you well, reciprocating that same energy.

Your hand made a fist into his hair, fingers clutching hard and stimulating his scalp, too caught up in the way his lips stroked and engulfed yours.

He responds to your thrilling grasp with a slight-little tug on your bottom lip. You persist with your grinding as you two share wild and unrestrained kisses. The pain-mixed-pleasure from his nibbles and hard cock prodding your aching pussy has you in utter ecstasy.

Eric is equally as overwhelmed in excitement. He starts to push his hips up to meet your movements, then is greeted by your lips parting from his own, hushed gasps releasing from you as a result.

The reaction from you gets him to smirk, seeing you all stupefied just from his clothed cock knocking into your clothed pussy.

After a couple gasps, you attempt to revert back to his lips again but he dodges you, too amused in seeing how worked up you’ve become.

You try to kiss him again and he only allows each of your lips to faintly graze together before ripping himself away.

“Stop teasing me.” you whined breathlessly, still trying to plant your lips over his but he continues to give you nothing. He only allows your features to sweep lightly.

He grins mischievously, too struck on the pouted look on your face. It’s adorable seeing you get so riled up. He couldn’t help it. You were so fun to play with.

Though, it’s funny until your ruts into his manhood grow stronger. Your frustration has you increasing the downward thrust of your pelvis, making Eric groan and shut his eyes instantaneously.

You whimper pathetically while you grind and bounce into him. Eric bites his lip and his hands start to grip at your hips, swamped in how the friction applied is too divine for his cock.

While straddling him, you’re free to control the speed and intensity of your motions. You’ve got this animalistic desire to satisfy your moist, hot pussy and get you and your boyfriend off.

Something about fucking into him with clothed bottoms, no penetration, and greedy humps is beyond intimate, filthy, and desperate. It fueled you with passion, love, and lust for him.

Pants and moans exchange galore, and you’re still grinding down enthusiastically, all frenzied trying to reach climax. Though, Eric doesn’t want you going too hard in this position. Usually he’s the one being dominant, and he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself like this even if it feels good.

“Fuck, babe… Easy girl., easy.” he breathes, getting you to slow down and halt your movements.

With heavy breaths and mewls, you do stop and he finally gives you the kisses he withheld from you as a reward. You happily kiss him, clutching onto him like you never want to let go.

“Lie on your back for me, princess. I’ll make you cum, don’t worry.” he mumbles over your lips, sending sparks to your cunt.

And so you do as told, sadly separating from his lap but ready for whatever new pleasure he was about to give you. You lie back on the couch, looking at him from a new angle.

Eric then starts to tug off his joggers, now leaving you both in just your underwear.

Your eyes are heavy lidded, and your hands and legs roam promiscuously, waiting for his next move within the couple seconds he takes.

Your breath is stuck in your throat when he leans down over your body, now caged by him.

Your heart’s simultaneously beating rapidly and swimming in passion when he leans his lips towards your nose, pressing his lips against the tip of it.

His cutesy gesture is soothing and has you smiling fondly. It distracts you from this spicy position you’re in for only a tiny moment. In a flash, his manhood and hips push into you, making you moan loudly at the feeling.

Eric moans alongside you. With his pants off, you can feel his manhood better. The thinner the barrier, the stronger the sensation.

He quickly falls into a rhythm while humping into you. Eric has always had better stamina and energy than you. Straddling him and having you uber close in his lap is utterly perfect, but desperately bucking into you missionary style is also amazing.

Getting to control the pace and seeing you underneath him and vice versa felt so primal. He can’t abstain from diving into your neck to start marking you up some more. Fine bites and kisses are scattered across the skin he’s able to reach, still rocking himself into you.

It’s all so dizzying. It’s hard to think coherently when surrendering to his lusty affection. Your body feels inexplicably good like this. All you can do is weakly pant and mewl, inherently arching your back.

His hips rock and slide against yours in gushing lust. Rutting into you in this angle has his manhood roaring with ferocity. His movements provide pleasurable pressure against your clit and better direct sensations across your entire sex.

The strokes of his clothed shaft and head against your panty-covered pussy is delectable. A wet patch formed on Eric’s briefs where he strained against the material, and your panties were also past damp. Your soaked underwear mingled with his own, providing such a beautiful sensation.

Watching your boyfriend rub into you and listening to his ragged breaths is driving you crazy. Not to mention the obvious clit-centric pleasure you’re receiving.

The more he humps into you and drops kisses over your face, lips, and tits, the more tense you become.

You feel your muscles starting to contract involuntarily. You’re flushed all over and there’s a concentrated sensation in your groin.

“Eric…” you breathlessly warn, knowing you’re on the verge of cumming in your panties.

And he too knows immediately and gets the hint. He wants you to release freely and not ruin your underwear with your fluids more than already is.

So he inches down and you raise your hips, allowing him to pull down and off your saturated bottoms.

You jolt as he unexpectedly dives his face into your pussy without warning. I mean— you should’ve known he would start eating you out to finish you off. Your man was a munch.

He messily kisses your wet cunt. His hands keep your legs spread open while he starts lapping and sweeping his tongue into every inch of your pussy possible.

“Oh fuck, Eric!” you cry a high pitched moan, face contorted from his wet muscle gladly screwing your cunt.

He grunts raveningly as he slurps at your folds and wetness, not hiding from making noise to show you how prized your pussy is to him.

It’s all toe curling, and your eyes are practically watering from how good he’s making you feel.

It hits you hard when his tongue lands on your clit, licking your swollen nub and eventually sucking on it.

“Oh my god, Eric! Eric!” you cry out again, hands finding themselves in his hair and holding on for dear life. His hold on your legs tightens while he keeps toying with your nub, ready for you to cum on his face any second now.

You spout various sounds as your core snaps and it’s pulsing, clear fluid finally flowing out.

He’s still tending to your clit when you burst, his chin and mouth glistening wet with your secretions. Your legs are basically numb, body trembling and muscles still contracting.

“That’s it, baby! That’s my girl.” he heaves out a praise, pulling away from your sensitive clit to sweetly kiss one of your thighs for being so wonderful.

Within seconds though, his mouth is back on your sex, lathering his tongue with your juices.

He avariciously drinks up his honey, cleaning you up real good. Meanwhile, you’re whimpering weakly, lightheaded post-orgasm. You let him lick your fluids, eventually whining repeatedly when it becomes too much and you realize how sensitive you’ve become to where it’s torturous for him to keep messing with your cunt.

Your whines wake him up from his pussy daze and he backs off. At then he is aware again of how awfully hard his throbbing cock is, begging for relief under his briefs.

You each are trying to catch your breaths. You’re lying limp while Eric can’t seem to ignore his bulging veins and the heaviness between his legs.

“Can you help me cum, princess?” he voices desperately with pleading eyes.

You’ve grown weary now that you’ve been satisfied but you can’t ignore your poor, sweet boyfriend, who has yet to cum himself. He needed some help, and you were going to give it to him.

You pull your right arm up, gesturing that you needed help to sit up. You weakly smile as he carefully pulls you up, groaning quietly as a result of your sore and swollen bare pussy.

A hand of yours creeps over one of his thighs, patting him compassionately while he begins to caress the small of your back.

You make him suck in a breath and then grunt when you redirect your hand to start massaging his stained, damp crotch.

“I bet it hurts, doesn’t it?” you pouted teasingly, enjoying the way he’s trying to control himself under your touch.

“Let me fuck your hand— please.” he airily moans, beginning to jerk into your palm.

Always impatient, you think to yourself. You can’t blame him though. Teasing and waiting for stimulation was always excruciating. He deserved what he wanted after helping you cum like the good boyfriend he is.

Your fingers move to tug at his underwear, and he promptly adjusts his position to remove them fully. His cock immediately slaps up against his abdomen, making him sigh out from his manhood finally being free.

The sight of his rosy cock has your pussy tingling for the nth time today. You can’t even get a word out before he reaches for your dominant hand and guides it to his cock.

You both gasp in chorus when your hand wrapped around his grips at his manhood. His hand doesn’t detach. Instead, he guides your hand slowly up and down his shaft.

Your lips part as you feel the warmth of his cock radiating from all the blood rushing within it. A breathy laugh comes out of Eric, causing you to dart your gaze up to look at him. The tip of his tongue sticks out from the corner of his mouth, luxuriating in the sensation of your soft, slightly smaller hand jacking him off.

Despite you knowing how to give him a hand job well on your own, he still keeps his hand over yours. Something about holding and guiding your hand while you touched his private parts was such a turn-on. It was indeed intimate, and only connected you two more. He refused to let go of you.

“Feels so fuckin’ good, babe.” he rasps.

Hearing his low voice, seeing him all weak and vulnerable, and touching his cock has you squeezing your cunt. Aiding him in masturbating is so yummy. He was fully naked in front of you with his pink hair, pink cheeks, and pink cock. God bless Eric and his beautiful form. You are beyond lucky to be here with him, and the only person that gets to do this to him.

“So hot and pretty for me.” you worshiped, squeezing his cock just a bit more, which gets him to moan loudly, harmonic to your ears. You love that he is always so vocal.

Your strokes are gentle and hard throughout. Both of you have your mouths dumbly ajar, moaning while your fists moved up and down together.

It doesn’t take long for the pace to build up, jerking him relentlessly. He’s panting nonstop, and you decide to add more stimulation onto him by using your free hand to grab his balls.

That’s the ticket for him. He hisses and calls out your name brokenly. You cup them, rubbing them and gently massaging his weighty sac. Your other hand continues to jerk him with his hand still steering yours. Getting his cock rubbed by his girl fully naked is sending him straight to heaven; he can’t seem to calm down.

“Cum for me, Eric. Wanna make my pretty boy cum. Need it.” you egg him on with your sweet voice begging. You even start to thumb at the looser skin of his sac between the balls, playfully tugging at it.

He throws his head back and moans harshly at that, followed by whiny whimpers. “Fucking hell, Y/n!” he pants.

You continue to encourage and coo at him to let it all out. When he finally can’t take it anymore and he’s ready to blow, he removes your hand from his shaft rather madly, and then he starts jacking off by himself to begin pumping out his seed.

Since he was face-deep in your pussy when you came, you believe you should return the favor by allowing him to cum all over your face, too. Plus, you knew he loathed when his orgasms didn’t involve cumming on or in you.

You stick your tongue out gladly, your eyes seductive and inviting him to make a mess out of you.

He looks at you and you’re the definition of a real-life fantasy. He can’t believe that you’re real, presenting yourself like this behind closed doors.

The tightening, tickling, and tingling sensation that rises from his balls and through his cock, finally catches up to him. He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he rolls his eyes back, releasing and squeezing his cock head to shoot several ropes of hot cum all over your face.

A gasp jumps out of you when you at last feel his seed land on you, eyes shutting instantly. Your tongue stays out, graciously humming and accepting whatever you can catch, swallowing it proudly.

Some of his viscous substance lands on your cheeks, forehead, and even your hair. Your heart’s racing at the feeling of being splattered with cum, eyes squinting open to catch a glimpse of his post-orgasm expression.

He grunts until he gets every drop out, sighing out when he’s reached empty. As he recovers, he’s breathing heavily, eyeing your gorgeous face he made a mess out of while he regains his composure.

His fingers then come forward to collect the cum that missed your tongue to redirect it all in your mouth. You allow him to feed you his essence, sucking and licking his fingers eagerly, puppy-eyed while you stare at him, making him bite his lip with a smirk.

“You’re such a good girl for me, baby. Fucking hell.” he manages to speak after his powerful release, removing his fingers and pulling you into his lap once again for a kiss.

Your naked bodies press and rest together while you kiss one another warmly. The lovely, mellow kisses leave you each relaxed, comforting one another after smutty doings.

Once you two separate lips, he kisses all over your face a couple times, making you happy to be loved like this.

Your hands smooth over his chest, noticing it blushing red after cumming.

“You okay?” Eric asks gently, snuggling you in his arms.

You nod at his chest. “I should be asking you that. You were having the time of your life, huh?” you snickered.

“Says the one who started humping the fuck out of me. Such a horny girl.” he pinched at one of your sides playfully, getting you to yelp and squirm from the ticklish feeling.

You grasped his wrist so he can instead hold your hand. Your hands clasped together, giving his own a gentle squeeze.

“Learned it from the master himself.” you mumble, getting Eric to chuckle.

“Man, we’re both nasty.” he whistles, caressing your spine with his free hand.

You laugh and leave a kiss on his chest, then squeeze yourself into him, taking advantage of the current proximity, allowing him to hold you tight.

“Wouldn’t wanna get nasty with anyone else.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[from-m-izzy]

here | the boyz kim sunwoo

“Oh my God,” you mutter at the wind grazing against your back.

pairing » the boyz kim sunwoo x fem!reader​

trope/au » friends with benefits au!, non-established relationship au!, non-idol au!, implied college/university au!​

genre » 18+ ONLY; MDNI PLEASE! 🔞 fluff...? (some of sunwoo's gestures for you can be seen in that way), ...sunwoo is kinda in love to be honest

word count; estimated reading time » 2540; ~10 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » public sex (hotel balcony) and mentions of past public sex, dom!sunwoo, sub!reader, dirty talk and praising (sunwoo to reader), orgasm denial (sunwoo to reader), multiple rounds (two written, allusions to more), kissing and marking (both), pet names (baby girl, baby boy, slut, brat), sunwoo calling reader pretty and beautiful, sunwoo implied to be physically bigger and taller, sunwoo carries the reader, rough sex, swearing, begging (reader to sunwoo), nudity (both), fingering (sunwoo to reader), boob play (sunwoo to reader), sunwoo holds reader's wrists down at the end, mentions of masturbation (sunwoo about reader), creampie

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

thank you for hyping and helping me with this one @hursheys @mosviqu 😭

The moment the electric lock flashed green on the booked hotel room, clothes were flung and skin to skin were made before skin to fresh fabric. Kim Sunwoo smirks at your neediness for him, the way his finger smoothly glides along your folds confirming the fact even more. As always, he always knows how to rile you up, especially with the amount of orgasms he's taken away from you in the past hour.

"Stay still," a husky groan behind you reminded, "pretty little girl."

You whimpered at the pet name, your back arching, palm full of the sheets and chest fluttering at the wet kisses trailing down your spine. Sunwoo’s arm that was around your waist pulled you up to sit against the broad of his chest. His heating skin only intensifies the need around your body, your thighs shaking at the rubbing around your clit. Now practically sitting on his hard length, the new position was able to brush a deep place that had never been touched. The slightest movement occurred from his hip and the boy smirks at how you rest your head against his shoulder. 

"That's it, baby girl," licking the side of your neck. His teeth nibble on your skin, the same teasing way he flicks and ghosts over your defined nipples and kneads your boobs in his hands. "Louder," he presses on as he grows harder inside of you.

"S-Sunwoo-" Your words were taken out, replaced by the heaving of breaths and moans filling the hotel room. "Let me ride you. I need you so bad.” The idea is cunning to him and he couldn't help but hiss at the mental image of being able to fully see the way you would take him, eyes locked to his as you only increase the pleasure for you both.

"What's the magic word?"

"Please, pretty boy. Let me ride y-"

Turns out Sunwoo is more impatient than you are and you feel the way his length hardens more inside your gummy loosening walls, stretching and knocking on the very first stages of your orgasm. Sunwoo flips to change his position, laying gracefully over the bed with you hovering above him, but unfortunately for you, the slight moment when he needs to pull out to get into position makes you frown.

He chuckles, "Don't be so disappointed. You like my cock so much that you just want me in you all day. That's why you call me every single time, don't you?" Your attempt to take a breath halts halfway when you realise that Sunwoo doesn’t align his member to your hole, instead making your poor clit grind against the top parts of his needy, veiny length. "A-Ah..." He rocks your swollen clit against himself, satisfyingly bringing you up and down, his tip disappearing behind your folds and reappearing again gloriously.

Your lower body is starting to shake again and your hands leveraged for his abs, nails slightly digging into his skin. It only urged Sunwoo to grind further, pressing your hips down to him as he started to enter you slightly but pulled out before hitting your spot.

"P-Please, fuck me properly." You're out of your mind at how he plays you, half-hooded eyes staring at him in the low lighting of the room. His mischievous smile shows that he will stop playing with you, but not too soon. Desperate for release, you start to retaliate a bit, going against the guidance of his grip to keep him snug inside you. A smack lands on one of your ass cheeks and the impact makes you moan. It only gets worse for you when he completely stops matching your neediness, keeping your hips in place and taking your building orgasm once more.

Cries and pleas fill his ears. "Stop being a brat," demanding and strong even though his eyes tell you otherwise; if only your eyes were opened. "I'll give you what you want so be a good girl and take whatever I give you. Be patient." You were half-listening, your nods stuttering along with your lower body that starts to shake in anticipation. Your head hangs low, moaning louder and nails engraved to his abdomen.

Until he completely raises his upper body from the mattress.

“W-What are you doing…?" Craving the pleasure he skillfully gives and smacking his chest in frustration. Your legs instinctively wrap around his pelvic area when he completely stands from the bed, clinging onto him as your energy slowly but surely runs out at the relentless rounds that have been going on between him and you.

Sunwoo gives a fake emphatic pout, puckering his lips for a kiss instead. He brushes his lips wherever he can, chuckling at how contrasting the top part of your body is displaying soft love but how the lower part of your body is still connected, your cum dripping along his length as he holds completely still. It’s hard for him to not thrust, but he loves keeping you on edge just for a bit longer. He kisses your tears away and the soft treatment he's giving you makes you forget of your throbbing need only for a split second as he tends to you in a different way. You close your eyes to feel his tongue swirling yours. The need to feel every part of him is evident, your arms wrapped around his neck tell him your desperateness and Sunwoo caresses your waist.

"That's for not calling me for so fucking long," he breathes out. "I was starting to get upset that you haven't called me for a while. Am I a joke to you?

Teeth clash, nose nudging and the way you run out of breath faster than ever makes Sunwoo snicker. "You were being annoying," you bite back. "Fucking me in random places whenever you wanted to." 

Your face heats up as you remember the way Sunwoo would wiggle his eyebrows each time, a tongue poking on the inner side of his cheek before he took you to ride him for the first time in the unisex toilet, the front and backseats of his car, his bedroom with the door open and his parents just downstairs, in your house against the window, in the dressing room of a store where he ended up buying the dress he ripped off you, in the empty lecture room at university (let’s hope the recording system wasn’t on), or even fingering you during your lecture (you’re thankful the content is recorded). All those places he moulded his length into you, breaking you apart and putting you back with searing kisses each time. His controlling nature excites you, that's why you haven't been able to call him. You secretly hoped he would go even wilder if you didn't. 

Driving to your house, putting you on your shoulder and driving to the nearest hotel that he has booked has gotten to be the least public sex you've had; or so you thought. Sunwoo’s act of cradling your soft skin against his body while he opens the curtain and clicks the balcony door open has become the most public and thrilling thing you’ve ever done. You immediately knew that if other visitors (or even the passersby as you weren’t too far from the ground) were to look anywhere towards your side, they would be able to see you and Sunwoo in intimate detail.

“Oh my God,” you mutter at the wind grazing against your back. 

“You want to do it out here?” Suggesting a little show for everyone. “I can give the walkers a show if I bend you over, I guess,” he shrugs. “But I need to see you as I cum inside because it’s the best seeing you fall apart for me.” 

Sunwoo feels the way you start to pool at that, and he thrusts slightly after you throb at his length. The whimpers against his neck from his baby girl rile him, especially with how you're clinging onto him and grinding against his chiselled front. Sunwoo taps on the side of your thigh, a motion telling you to land back on the ground. He wastes no time, cupping a hand around your mouth while his index lays vertically against his lips, winking at you. Your hands immediately fly to the wooden railing behind you and Sunwoo takes this as a time to blanket his hand over yours before slowly testing and setting a comfortable, stable rhythm. 

“H-Here?” The wind messed up Sunwoo’s hair, and his overgrown bangs only made it hard for you to even set eyes on his orbs; but fuck did he look all the more attractive.

‘Here,” he affirms as a corner of his lip rises, smug and confident. “Shh,” he hushed. “Taking me like a good girl?” Chuckling at your rapid nods, “Or like a dirty little slut?”

Crocked, broken moans could still be heard behind his palm when you finally met his lust-filled eyes. You tried to distract yourself from the thrill of someone walking over to the balcony and catching you but you couldn’t help but grow louder when you looked down at Sunwoo’s veiny length entering you, slowly pulling out and pushing in twice as fast. High-pitched squeals match each time he hits you where you’re most needed.

“Is that how good I feel?” Raising an eyebrow, impressed at how you were able to nod. “My pretty baby girl taking me so well either way.” 

As much as you’re pushing him closer and closer to painting your walls white, he needs more stimulation. Whether stimulation is given to him or he gives it to you to drive you insane, it doesn’t matter, but Sunwoo has always been one to spoil you. He takes his hand away from your mouth and immediately the volume, moans, whines, groans and pleas you let out are already pushing him one step closer. He increases his pace, skin slapping on each other and leaning over to you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. This decreases the distance between you and him more, and your tender clit gets more attention and love.

“I-I’m so close…” You etched out between broken sobs. 

His eyes shut tight, nodding at your words. “You can do it.” It’s the first time he’s permitted you to completely let go. His thumbs brush over your knuckles, reassuring you that he’s close too and would love you to finish first; he loves spoiling you first before himself. “Come on,” pushing himself faster, “Let go for me,” harder, “Don’t worry, it won’t be your first.”

On cue, the image of him not letting you take a break is the trigger to you cumming, Sunwoo still pulsing around you as you did so. The boy hisses at the throbbing motions as you refuse to let go of his cock, tightly wrapping him around you. His hands tightly grip your wrist, the other pulling you still at the final drag he takes inside you as he empties all of him into you, twitching against your pulsing walls. 

You feel the way he fills you up, chest stuttering and out of breath. Both your eyes widen when he moves again, needy groans filling your ears. “Sunwoo…” He shakes his head, shutting you up with a searing wet kiss. He plays his tongue around yours, drowning all your noises.

“Not yet,” he heaves. Not when he hasn’t fucked his girl in so long. The amount of times he’s jerked himself off to the thought of you, the way you cry for him and the way that his dick is only satisfied with you are the only things that he replayed in his head every night, moaning your name with furrowed eyebrows. 

He retreats inside, sitting on the bed and adjusting his lying position as you sit on him once more. This angle pushes you to your second orgasm, creeping up slowly but surely. Your tightly shut eyes make you appreciate how deep he is as he starts to pound up against you. 

His eyes gazed at your glistening folds and pulsing pussy. "See?" He leans and observes your lacked jaw. "In the end, you don't care where I fuck you," chuckling when you meet his thrust halfway. Your muscle shaping for him makes your hole shake, wetting his length and making it easier for him to slide further. "You just care about me," a thrust up, "and the way that I fuck you wherever you want to," another thrust, "and I guess," an eyebrow raises as he prepares his next move, "whenever I want to fuck you."

Sunwoo gets you ready for another release, teasing your sensitive bud by rubbing, flicking and pinching your folds as he pounds into you. This is the first time he's seen your expression from below, and the image is so much better than seeing you under him. In the end, he's just a boy who wants to see how you can move yourself to match his thrust. His dick only hardens with the fact that you're so fucked out that you're unable to fully grind against him.

"F-Fuck me..." Chest heaving at his control. "O-Oh-" He found it. The place that makes you fold for him every time. Your grip flies to his shoulder, eye contact never faltering other than when your eyes shut at the tears rolling down your cheek. Sunwoo aims there each time and you let out choked screams at the building pleasure. "S-Shit.” The stimulation makes the sex easier, eyes widening at the intense pleasure.

"Shit," he smirks at your tightly shut eyes, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. "Don't hurt yourself, baby girl," cupping your cheek and pulling your bottom lip. "Let me hear you," Sunwoo increased the pace of his hips and swirls your tender clit, and you had no choice but to follow his orders. "You're so fucked out and beautiful."

You whine at his words, squeals bouncing around the room when Sunwoo tugs on your nipple with his teeth. He fondles every part of you with intense want, intense need. The added attention is when your lower body starts to tense and relax uncontrollably, gushing out the startings of your liquid and the smacks of your body becoming louder and more accurate each second. Your neck falls, and screams hit the ceiling.

He hums against the valley between your breasts, "Does my sweet girl want to cum again?"

"Yes!"

His hand cups your jaw, directing your pleading gaze to his similar ones. "Can she promise me that she'll contact me more and won't deprive me of this sweet pussy?"

"Yes!"

Despite the need, he knows your words hold truth. "I'm gonna cum inside you. Need your body to remember a part of me."

You don't object to that as he pulls you to another kiss, muffling and taking your moans down his throat. It's not long before your body swallows his second load inside, overflowing onto the sheets that he for sure would love to take home; maybe even replacing his as he jerks off to your scent. Your body falls slack after but Sunwoo doesn't pull out again. Your walls pulsate around him and it's when you realise that he's not getting any softer inside of you.

You realised the implications of that, "Fuck-"

You’re flipped against the mattress in a clean sweep, head now comfortably deep into the pillow and Sunwoo re-enters as soon as you hit the bed. "You've been ignoring my calls for too long and I’m way too deprived of you right now," Both wrists are pinned under his open palms, "And this dick needs some more love from his home, baby girl."

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

tags: @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿 @starlit-network 🌌⭐

[slytherinshua]

SHUT YOUR PRETTY MOUTH

genre. fluff. warnings. eric's yapping abt furry stuff 😟 reader hates on furries. slight make out. not proofread pairing. eric x fem!reader. wc. 951. request. no. a/n. @hursheys i hope this fulfills your eric delusions ☝️ i kinda hate the ending but whatever we're gonna roll with it. net. @deoboyznet

“So then he was like ‘well that’s totally furry behaviour’, and, obviously, I took offense to that. Cause, like, hello that’s absurd! I’m not a furry. I just bark occasionally—”

You were all too familiar with Eric’s chronic insomnia. Much like a toddler, if he didn’t do enough during the day to exhaust his endless energy, he could easily stay up all night with no sense of time or how tired other people (you) were. You closed your eyes, still half-listening to your boyfriend’s rambling, although you had lost the context of it a long time ago. If you were lucky, you might even be able to fall asleep to his yapping…

As if.

“So I was like, ‘dude, I have a girlfriend, why would you even suggest that’!? They went without me— good riddance— and I blocked them too, so there’s no need to worry. Maybe this is what Kevin meant when he warned me to stop hanging out with random people I meet on the streets. But, I met you on the streets too, so I can’t trust anything Kevin says anymore. Imagine if I hadn’t stopped to get your number at the crosswalk? My life would be so boring now!” Eric continued animatedly, drumming his fingers against the pillow that rested in his lap, picking out the rhythm to one of The Boyz’s songs.

“And I might actually be able to get some sleep…” You interjected with a tired whisper, rolling on your side to face your boyfriend. You opened your eyes with a pointed glare, and Eric’s let out a small “oh”.

“Right. Sorry, baby. You should sleep.” He said quickly, plopping down next to you and planting a quick kiss to your forehead. He was quiet for around 3 minutes, before you heard a small whisper close to your face.

“You don’t ever regret taking my number, do you?” You opened one eye to find Eric staring at you, his eyes wide like a puppy’s. 

“No, I don’t regret it.” You said truthfully, a yawn coming in at the end of your response. Eric smiled slightly, his brain telling him that he should let you finally sleep, but it seemed his mouth had other ideas.

“What if I was a furry? Would you still date me?” You had to hold back a laugh at the question, assuming that it was a reference to his earlier rambling. Although you couldn’t recall how the full conversation had gone, you were pretty sure that even if you did, it wouldn’t help you understand Eric’s brain.

“Who said you weren’t already?” You asked sarcastically, earning a pout from the boy that was almost impossible to resist kissing. 

“What if instead of talking to you I just barked in response?” 

You raised an eyebrow at him, silently judging his train of thought that was getting increasingly more unhinged with every minute that went by. You being extremely tired didn’t help with your patience for his incessant questions. You loved your boyfriend, you really did. But sometimes you just wanted him to shut up and let you sleep.

“What if instead of walking—”

Eric thankfully was not able to finish his sentence, which you could only assume had something to do with crawling on all fours or galloping around like a pony, because you had finally given in to your thoughts and shut up his rambling with your lips. He was shocked at first, frozen in place from your sudden movement. But kissing you was as natural as breathing to him, so he quickly found his rhythm, pulling you closer by your waist and kissing you deeply. 

“Was that a yes?” Came Eric’s first words when you broke off for air. 

“If you mean breaking up if you became a furry, then definitely yes. Now shut your pretty mouth.” You stated clearly before crashing your lips onto his again, giving him no opportunity to protest.

It was surprising how easy it was to get lost in the kiss even when you were exhausted. With Eric eagerly leading, it was simple enough to just let him do most of the work. You tangled your fingers in his blonde hair as he squeezed your waist, letting his tongue slip past your lips gently. 

It seemed your kissing idea worked wonders to exhaust your boyfriend’s energy, as when he broke it off and fell back onto the pillow, he wrapped you up in his arms and let his eyes fall close. You could feel his heart racing, your ear resting over his chest. His cheeks were flushed a pretty pink colour and his lips slightly swollen from the prolonged kiss. As his heartbeat slowed to a regular speed, you naturally matched your breathing with it, and the repetition lulled you to sleep quickly.

Eric held you tightly in his arms, listening to your steady breathing. He was tired, but his mind still raced with thoughts. Rather than meaningless questions he loved to throw at you, they all shifted to thoughts of you. He didn’t deserve your patience at the best of times, and was forever thankful that you truly loved him for himself. 

He knew he could be overbearing and exhausting at times, but he tried his best to balance it with the soft romantic moments that you and him both loved. You were quite similar to each other, the more Eric thought about. Although you were definitely more subdued, which balanced his exuberant energy quite well.

He sniffed, not having realized until now that his eyes had welled up with tears from his thoughts. He sheepishly blinked them away and held you a little closer in his arms, falling into his dreamland with you.

↳ the boyz taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @blossominghunnie,, @cosmicwintr,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,,

@lecheugo,, @seunghancore,, @heavenfilm,, @recordsfilm,, @bananabubble,,

@talking-saxy,, @cupidslovearrows,, @hursheys,, @gong-fourz

[from-izzy]

show you the stars | the boyz kim sunwoo

“Why's my girl misbehaving today, hm? Shouldn’t you be nice to the birthday boy?”

pairing » the boyz kim sunwoo x fem!reader

trope/au » friends to lovers, (or should i say...) 'friends' to lovers, situationship (?), non-idol au!

genre »​ very suggestive!! (as compared to my other one), it's kinda fluffy uwu (everyone act surprised), a dash of angst, dom!sunwoo at times, sub!sunwoo at other times, kim sunwoo being whipped and sweet for you, but he's also flustered, he's flirting with you, reader is a bit of a tease and is confident, you're also flustered at times, sunwoo loves you and you love him (again, act surprised), finding love and comfort in each other after past relationships, kim sunwoo who just wants to be close to you

word count, estimated reading time » 5041, ~18 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » very suggestive!!, dom! and sub!sunwoo, mentions of unhealthy past relationships, a ton of kissing, making out, marking (teeth and kiss marks; reader receiving), pet names (baby boy, baby girl), reader licks cream off sunwoo, sunwoo licking cream off reader's neck and collarbones, sunwoo is physically bigger and taller, reader has medium to long hair, HIGHLY suggestive at the end, rapid proofread once

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

happy birthday to (one of) the loml 🥰

uhm...

yeah...

so!...yeah...

i'm just gonna go...

The delightful aroma of your hard work fills the volume of Sunwoo’s apartment easily. You've been chopping, stirring and sizzling ingredients for the last two hours, excited for the first birthday that you'll spend together with him.

To elaborate on your relationship with Sunwoo, you're ‘friends’. The explanation would give most people deadpanned looks, accompanied by the raised eyebrows that would follow. Otherwise, others would only facepalm at the stupidity that you both seem to obviously share. Anyone could tell that with the way that you both would drop any conversation that you're in or literally drop the paper cup in your hand whenever the other comes into even slightly just their peripheral vision, that you're more than the label that you both have decided to nonverbally settle for now.

Like your best friend from diapers would say, there's no way those kisses on the forehead, trailing down side to side across your eyelids, back medially down the slope of your nose, along the underside of your jawline, were things that ‘friends’ do. Not with the way that Sunwoo would subtly slide his palm down from the comfort of your back to cup one of your bottom cheeks, smirking when he feels the heat radiating from your cheeks.

And for you? You can't help but feel the disappointment in your chest whenever he passes the quiet but rapid breathing of your lips, whenever he bypasses that sensitive spot on your neck, sometimes whispering compliments to the shell of your eyes with that husky, low voice of well, that’s just how it is at the current moment.

Friends don’t look at each other’s orbs and are so immersed that they say “I miss you” in the most dewy, honey-dripping voice. In public where they're most disciplined, they don't hold each other’s hands while walking, a thumb smoothing over the other when they’re just walking along the empty night street or the aisle of the grocery store.

Friends don't give each other their spare apartment keys or sweep them off their feet as soon as the front door opens, distracting their worries and other thoughts by locking lips with each other. You would never let any of your other friends carry you in their arms and pull the same blanket that they will use through the night over your body. In the same way, you would never snuggle to the warmth of the person next to you, kissing them a sweet “good night” and “thank you”, the other person reciprocating those feelings.

But knowing the manipulation and tears from your past relationship, none of you could bear to address the looming label that others already gave you both. Sunwoo is too scared to ask too, going through a similar situation in his past relationship. Through the healing of the break-up that you both had in your respective lives, came the comfort that the other’s lips would give, and you both would chase that feeling from each other over and over again.

You're okay with how things are now. You respect him and you don’t want to push him or the title that you personally want to have with him. For now, you decide that actions will speak louder than words and when the right time comes, you both will address it without the influence of the outside world.

Today is just one of those days that you use your spare key to access Sunwoo’s kitchen for a little feast. The dining table is decorated with a vase of roses in the middle, and you constantly hop between the stove and the furniture to make sure everything looks presentable. The light dimming system of his house is perfect for the shooting star projector that you aim towards a blank wall. You're satisfied with all the preparation for all the main meals, making sure that the moment he walks in through the door, you can cook and plate it up swiftly while it’s still freshly pipping hot.

“Oh gosh,” proud of your efforts with the vanilla whipped cream for his cake. “I'm a genius,” you sang variations of the phrase to yourself.

Curse your horrible time management skills because the clock in front of you only reminds you that you have little time until the main key is used on the front door. The sponge cake is assembled quickly, with a thin layer of crumb coating and minimal cooling before you spread the second batch of the cream for the outer layer, topping the chocolate and strawberries afterwards.

You step back to admire your work, making sure the fruit is on the perfect slope and that the chocolate bar next to it complements the negative space around the centrepiece. Your hand under the cake was about to slip when you heard the keys rattling from outside and you swore the fridge door hated you by how you had a hard time opening it.

On the other hand, Sunwoo could smell your home-cooked meal a few doors down the hallway. His stomach only grumbles in anticipation but his heart was jumping at the thought of you greeting him behind the door. The smile on his face grew, his overgrown bangs tickling his eyelids with his rushed footsteps towards the door. The sweet scent of your perfume is what he manages to pick up first, and he doesn’t regret how he ditched work with the expectation that you would spend today’s occasion with him.

“I'm home.” Something that he has always loved to say, hating the lack of light in his house after a long day at work. His fingers were about to switch the light on but your shout stops him halfway.

Your body crashed against his before he could comprehend anything. Sunwoo groans a little at how his back hits the door behind him but his palms settle on your hips lovingly. Your arms are wrapped around his middle, face hidden to his chest, nose inhaling your favourite cologne. A deep chuckling answers your small apology, his fingers raised to tug at the hair tie around your ponytail. The elastic now wraps around his wrist as he savours the scent of your perfume and shampoo. The way Sunwoo messaged your scalp left you with goosebumps, his other hand untucking his tight shirt that you stole from your skirt so that the pad of his thumb could feel your skin better.

“Happy birthday, baby boy,” exhaling at the gentle swipes of his thumb on your waist.

“Thank you, baby girl,” trailing kisses from the top of your head to the side of your head. You tried to escape from the ticklish feeling but he kept his hold firm, keeping your lower bodies flush against each other, “Where do you think you're going?”

You giggle at his lips down the side of your face, his breaths reaching the crook of your neck as he takes comfort there. It's only now that you realise the fabric of his material, is no longer the white collared polyester. Your heated cheeks brushed against the metal around his neck and Sunwoo could feel the start of your complaints from your deep inhale.

So he closes the gap and kisses you to quiet you down.

He ignores the little muted surprised sound from you, pulling away only slightly to smirk at you before diving in deeper. His palm grips on the curve of your waist, keeping you in control. He whispers for you to pull him closer by the neck and he knows the roll of your eyes isn't an indication of annoyance. Your lips danced between his, a hand over his nape to pull him down, your other palm cupping his cheek as you tried to control his hunger for you.

“Sunwoo,” slightly out of breath, “what are you wearing?”

As if he didn't see the deadpanned look on your face when he decides to give your poor lungs a break, he leisurely answers, “This is the suit and tie of someone who decided to leave the desk early,” fingers hooking around the metal chain around his neck whilst simultaneously peering down at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, “so that he could look hot for his birthday and his girl.”

You couldn't deny that. Shamelessly, you let your eyes roam over the somewhat tight shirt that he has. His pectoral muscles are defined with the grey stretchy fabric and the silver accessory around him only made him all the more irresistible. Kim Sunwoo knows how to make you swoon, styling his hair lazily with his strands covering his field of view.

Sunwoo makes it known that your stare is invited, loving the attention that his special day gets him. You're looking at him so delicately that his smug confidence falters into a softer look. His lips form a straight line but the moment your eyes meet his, there’s this growing warmth that spreads throughout his chest, an emotion that spreads to you.

“Let's go eat?” With an affirmative hum and a quick peck, Sunwoo lets your body go and links a hand with yours, letting you guide him deeper into his house.

As soon as his eyes take a glance at your work, he's momentarily still. Actually, the whole idea stemmed from that time when you and Sunwoo watched a movie where the main characters wished upon the shooting stars. When you asked Sunwoo if he believed that stars held the power to grant wishes, he just smiled, clasps his hands together and shuts his eyes. The way that Sunwoo’s eyes glimmer at the projection back to you tells you that the moment wasn’t only special to you. He's always found the idea to be a bit innocent, unlike his relationship with you but the fact that you kept it in mind, and how his grip on your hand only tightens, tells everyone that Kim Sunwoo is ready for more.

He daydreams regularly kissing you awake, and how you're the last voice he would hear before falling asleep. How you'll greet him when he opens the door and kisses all over his face. How he’ll be able to spend his money spoiling you instead of only spending it on himself. How you’ll be his number one and how you’ll be his. These thoughts have roamed his head for a very long time and he used to keep it in, hiding it for the sake of not ruining whatever you two have already right now.

But with the way that you would kiss his nape as a greeting whenever he would be sitting down in front of you, or the way you would sit down on his lap and crane his neck up to meet his lips with yours. How the heated sessions would only flare up more when he sneaks his fingers around the band of your bra, and the whole intimacy that you show each other—Kim Sunwoo is undoubtedly in love with you.

Besides the intimacy, it’s the things you do for him. Namely, it’s the view of his house right now and the welcoming scent of his favourite food that you prepared for him. It’s even more precious to Sunwoo as he knows that you do this even when it isn’t a special day. You have done this whenever he would hint how much he misses you and you would show up to mend his tired heart every time. It’s not just the kisses and skin on skin. If you stopped guiding him to his designated chair and looked back at him right now, you would see that lovesick look on his face.

Sunwoo offers to clean up the space whilst you’re cooking but you quickly refuse, saying that he should take a rest, even if it’s for a while. After a few tries, Sunwoo finally listens to you, sitting down where you want him to. He takes this time to admire your decorations, snapping electronic memories of his surroundings and taking extra shots of the wall that seem so much more inviting with the video of falling lights.

His eyes are stuck there, entranced by the view. You see from across the room how he readjusts his position and closes his eyes. Your heart swells with that, keeping the view of his head down slightly as he mouths inaudible words to the stars you projected. When he opened his eyes, you diverted back to dinner, happiness evident on your face at how he appreciated your work.

While you focused on the pan, Sunwoo found a couple of metres gap between you cooking and him sitting on the dining table too far away. So, he took a seat from the kitchen island that separated you two. Soon enough, you pout at the return of the multiple camera sounds behind you, this time louder and clearer. You leave the stove, walking over and leaning over the island to snatch his phone away and Sunwoo mirrored the playful smile on your face.

“Behave,” he knew it worked like a charm when he saw you flustered. Your outreached wrist from your attempt only gets caught up with his and Sunwoo draws you in closer while he leans in to meet you in the middle.

The dim lights overhead set the mood more as they angle the shadows and highlight all the kissable parts of your face and Sunwoo swears he could kiss you all night. You watch the gulp down his throat and his stern eyes drifting to the knobs of the stovetop to turn off the fire. Kim Sunwoo is no longer playful like a minute ago. You’ll admit that he sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach but it didn’t stop the tugging on the corner of your lips. Sunwoo’s eyes widened when you decided to turn off the fire but never went back to him. He lets out an amused scoff at the way you cross your arms over your chest, leaning your back on the free tablespace next to the stove.

His eyes narrow at you, a tongue poking his inner cheek at your sudden surge of confidence, “Now,” you watch him turning his body sideways, walking to the opposite side of the island where you were before. He stays silent for a bit longer, letting you know that a question is coming; and that he wants answers to it. Copying your gesture, Sunwoo leans on the island, observing you closely, “Why's my girl misbehaving today, hm? Shouldn’t you be nice to the birthday boy?”

“You really want me to be ‘nice’?” You shake your head, finding the statement amusing, “You love it when I play with you like this. What's life without a bit of misbehaviour?”

The boy couldn’t even get a word out when you suddenly took a big step towards him. Your palms rest on the edge of the marbled top, caging his figure. You purposely lean into his chest, eyelashes subtly fluttering underneath the still yellow lamp from above. There was no longer a chance that Sunwoo could think straight anymore. Not with the way that just like before, you cradled the underside of his jawline.

However, your hold on him this time is different. It didn’t feel like you were going to pull him and have your kiss marks all over his skin like the way he would never refuse to when you asked. The confused lines between his eyebrows only deepen more when you just keep staring at him with a dazed look in his confused orbs but it’s then that he sees a glimmer of hope for the relationship that you both could share.

It may have been the light or it may have been the reflection of his own eyes or—and this is what he hopes—it’s the glimmer and stars in your eyes that you hold as you look at him at the moment. Sunwoo tries his best to understand your unspoken feelings but his train of thought is cut short when he registers the dollop of coolness on the left side of his jawline.

His breath hitches in his throat when your right hand hooks around his necklace and you latch your lips around the cream on his face. Your tongue swipes the food off his skin, alternating between kitten licks and long swipes. Your left-hand swipes the wall of the metal bowl behind him, trailing down a path that you would soon wipe clean. Sunwoo shudders, his light moan hitting your ear and his little whiny begs encourage you to keep going.

Your breath hitting his skin would normally rile him to put you in your place but all he could do with his lower back digging against the edge of the table is to clench his hands onto your mid-outer thighs to stabilise himself.

“God…” Sunwoo calls out when he opens his eyes to meet your daring ones. “You're so beautiful.”

“Enjoying this?” And he responds with a harsher grip, hands raising and starting to lift your skirt to your upper thighs.

The coolness of the cream, followed by your light alternations of sucking and kissing on his skin, and the way the air cools the area after is perfect and Sunwoo’s head tilts back in satisfaction. Too bad you wouldn't let him because you finished trailing his jawline, stealing a kiss straight to his subtle, hungry lips. The taste of vanilla and the pressure of your lips makes his head light and the room seems like it's spinning. But now, it's his turn and you know it with the way he pushes you away with all the strength he has left in him. He bends down to wrap his arm around your mid-thigh that has crescents of his nail on your skin and he sits you on the countertop and slots himself between your knees.

Sunwoo’s eyes are darker than the night outside but it doesn't fear you at all. You're now the one caged between him but unlike Sunwoo, you knew you didn't have any strength to push him away--nor did you want to. You bite your lower lips when he starts tugging your left sleeve down your shoulder to have more area to work with.

“My turn, baby girl,” metal against marble is heard next to you and Sunwoo uses his pointer and middle fingers to scoop the sweet white.

A smirk comes up his face when you grow visibly weaker for him, your posture faltering underneath his dominating presence. Sunwoo held your chin between his thumb and ring finger and applied a thin layer between your open mouth.

“Take a deep breath for me.” And you did so almost immediately.

You soon find out that a deep breath is needed as Sunwoo not only takes your breath away by covering your mouth with his own but that he multitasks to smear the food all over your neck and collarbone area. Unlike you who preferred things to be more uniform and clean, Sunwoo loves how you squirm and whimper under him with multiple senses. His fingers traced the horizontal line of your collarbones first before he came up and around the side and front of your neck less uniformly; he’s getting impatient now. You soon found out that the skin he exposed earlier wasn’t so that he could have a reason to place his tongue there, he’s just hungry for more of you, wanting to feel every part of you, just like how his tongue pushes against yours.

You find his little huffs of annoyance endearing as he mumbles about how the lack of oxygen has him pulling away from him showing his love. In reality, it was just a few seconds, but every second without you felt like a lifetime to him. He cleans the last bit of cream on his pants and he finally detaches his lips from you.

Sunwoo straightens his posture, looming dominance over your wrecked mind and half-lidded eyes. A hanging weak string of saliva still connects you both in the air for a minute and his right hand wraps around your left forearm in place. You didn’t mind his sticky fingers that started to brush the strands of your hair from the top of your nape. It’s a lovely feeling from the adrenaline he gives you but he raises your heartbeat once more when he plays with the wind to your ears, “Tasting lovely, baby girl.”

Nothing else is said as his lips dive into the sweet trail that he made for himself. Your body reacts to the sudden warmth by pulling away, but his hold on your shoulder reminds you of your place to stay where you are. The same hand reaches to drip on his elbow for mind stabilisation but your free one pushes against the broad of his back. Your legs hook around the back of his thighs to feel him indefinitely closer. It seems like the boy has learnt quickly, especially when it’s from you because just like the way you made him see the stars on the ceiling, he made you see it but with more intensity and brightness.

Sunwoo loves unpredictability over anything, even though he appreciates how you value the opposite. One of the reasons he appreciates it is because he knows what to anticipate next whenever you both feel each other, and he loves the building climax. But you, who is receiving his unpredictableness, can only curse him out whenever he tries something new on the body that he has come to be familiar with. The thrill of your groans and whines makes him feel in control and just like any other time, Sunwoo didn’t hesitate to plant something new on the curve of your neck. You sharply gasp at the way his teeth very lightly plunged into you but whimper louder at how he hollows his cheek on the area. From the corner of your eyes, you see the vein of his neck start to appear with his actions.

“You’re right.” He pulls away slightly to admire a part of him on you before diving again to properly clean your skin. “I do love you like this.”

Your lips are trembling in pleasure too much to string in proper words so you only whine to his acknowledgement. When one side of your neck is clean, he doesn’t bother keeping his touch to himself, briefly swiping anything that he can get on the way to the other side of your neck. Kim Sunwoo drives you crazy and your legs around his body tighten for another attempt to stabilise yourself.

Your jaw slacks when he bites again, this time just a tiny bit stronger as a response to your lower body. He lets you drop your head back, hand still on your nape so that he has control over the area he’s marking and maximises the pleasure that he can give. The tip of his tongue starts to alternate between the sucking and long stripes that you did to him. A satisfied chuckle hits a sensitive part around your collarbone area when Sunwoo feels his shirt further define his pectoral as you clench his fabric in your fist.

Ragged breaths along with a mixture of wet kisses are all that’s bouncing between the four walls—flushed bodies and heated skin press against the two who are afraid to love again. You’re aware of his heart pounding against his chest, knocking on yours to let him in. The closer he travels down to your chest, you’re afraid that he will feel the pounding, afraid that your hidden desires may show through and be overwhelming for him. The meaning behind your clench changes in time and your skin is now littered with a different colour because of his actions. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, exhaling and stepping back to admire his work.

Your chest raises rapidly to account for the lost air, taking advantage of the space now that he’s pulled away. Sunwoo couldn’t help the small chuckle at your pout and he wipes them away by granting you another kiss, palms resting on the edge of the table, trapping you once more. Your noses comically bumped into each other, still lightheaded from before but you enjoy the atmosphere that would always come along after the intensity you poured out to each other. Your legs relax between his figure and both your hands delicately cradle his cheeks.

The realisation strikes again: all you want is him.

Him and everything of him.

The thought of him kissing someone else churns your stomach and makes you green, even though he’s not yours. You didn’t want anyone else cupping his cheek the way you do, and you didn’t want to see anyone else next to you when you opened your eyelids to the song of the morning birds. You want to be greeted by his chest or hairline when he needed comfort the night before. You want his “I love you”s and “I’ll miss you”s even if one of you is just going to another room in the building. You want to be the person that he can always lean on for whatever and whenever. You want him to be the person that you can cry ugly to. The wishes filled your body as you wished he would kiss you like this forever with or without the title that you would love to establish.

You feel the clenching of your heart when you open your eyes with the final pull of the remnants of vanilla, greeted with the shimmering orbs that you’ve fallen in love with. Your eyes are stuck onto the smile lines around his face and he’s entranced with every single part of you, staring at you with the honey dripping from his eyes. The smile you offer him is bashful and slightly tense. Of course, he caught up to that, humming at the sight of your pretty head filled with worries. His thumb glazes upon the apple of your cheeks and you wish he didn’t just so that you could save yourself from heartbreak.

Kim Sunwoo makes you believe that love is worth it; that you’re worth it.

You wish you were more confident to tell him that.

Sunwoo leans his forehead onto yours, eyes planted on your downcasted gaze, “Hey, can I tell you what I wished for at the shooting stars?” and you could only hum back, refusing to look at him. “Can you let me be the only person to touch, hold and kiss you like that?” There was a moment of silence as Sunwoo let you register his words. When it does click, your eyes shoot up to his. A nervous chuckle is what he offers you but he doesn’t plan to take his words back. “It’s okay if you’re not ready. I’ll wait for you. But,” he swallows the anxiety down his throat, letting his face roam around your slightly confused face, “I can't stand the thought of someone else littering kisses all over you other than me.”

It’s genuine.

Kim Sunwoo’s eyes are different than any of the eyes that you once put your trust in.

It’s obvious.

“Jealous?” It was supposed to be more striking and playful but it turned out to be more tiring and insecure.

Again, he caught up to it and decided to carry on the narrative of your words with a careful tone, “You’d be fine with other girls running their tongues all over my face?”

The mention of your past actions started the multiple offences to his chest and the poor boy loves the flustered look on your face, complaints flying out of your mouth. In this moment when you both indulge in the comfortable relationship that you share, your posture relaxes and your hands rest on your laps. Shortly, Sunwoo joins his own there, fingers intertwining between yours and just like how he soothes the heaviness that you hold internally, his thumbs swipe across the back of your hand.

“If you do, I won’t let you off easily, Kim Sunwoo.”

You hope that he realises the real implication behind the words. Sunwoo’s brain buffered a little bit but soon enough, the straight line shape of his lips raised into something more. Along with it, his naturally mischievous personality also raised his eyebrows. “That’s my girl.”

You couldn’t help the giggle at how his face flushed red after, bashful at the effect you had on him. Your fingers brush along the ends of his hair that seems to get in the way of his eyes.

“You should cut them or something.”

“I look hot like this though.”

“You always look hot.”

And there comes little shy Kim Sunwoo once more.

“I-Instead of flirting with me, why don't you grant my other wish instead?”

“Oh yeah?” You lean back on the table, hands behind you for support, “I granted you your wish, shouldn’t you grant mine first before you ask for another one?”

“How about I grant them both at the same time?”

“You don’t even know what I want.”

True.

As much as Kim Sunwoo has been paying attention to you, you’ve always been the girl to never fully express what they want despite the encouragement from your loved ones that they will always stand beside you no matter what. An idea brews in his head when you lean back and he catches the glimpse of the white rays shooting out from the sky behind you. You know with the way that his tongue swipes along his bottom lip, mouth slightly agape that he’s up to no good.

His hand leaves the marble you’re on, drawing closer to the side of your thigh to your waist. Innocently, he displays his big, round eyes to you and his actions contradict them heavily. A few of his fingers slip past not only the waistband of your skirt but also the fabric underneath it. You thought he would stop his ministrations there but his other hand traces the same path on the other side of your body, this time however even though his hand did not go under the underband, the clip behind clicks open.

“You can’t wish for anything until I show you the stars."

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿 @sanaxo-o

[kyaroscuro]

All About You

Maybe it's all about you when your youth is filled with each other's names and your heart has never changed. That's what Juyeon finds out when he falls in love with his best friend.

pairing : bff!juyeon x gn!reader (+bf to ex!sunwoo) genre : fluff, bestfriends to lovers, slow burn, slight angst but happy ending warnings : swearing/cursing, sex jokes, implied sex, mention of burnout, alcohol consumption, heartbreak, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, pretty, baby) notes : it's been a long road but i'm happy to introduce y'all to my baby! i've been (and still am) obsessed with juyeon since the zeneration 2 concert and i guess i've had a lot to write about him... i hope you'll find out the few references i've managed to sneak in! enjoy ✧.* shout out to my dear @winterchimez for proofreading and helping me during the whole writing process, you were a great help <3 words count : 13745

No one ever told you how relationships work. So when you fell in love with your best friend Juyeon at 16, you felt a little helpless. Should he be the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning? Was it wrong to lean on him when he welcomed you into his arms for a movie night? Eventually those feelings faded as you both started dating, and you wondered if it was even true love. Maybe the 16-year-old teenager you were was just attracted to the idea of being close to another soul, mentally and physically.

Maybe yes.

The only thing you know right now at 24, is that the feelings you had for Juyeon back then were nothing compared to the ones you have for Sunwoo today. The attention and love he gives you makes everyone jealous. Even Juyeon himself.

If he wanted to take you out to dinner, you would turn him down because you already had plans with Sunwoo. Arcade, karaoke, late night walks, picnics, fancy restaurants or fast food, you’re always together. Sometimes when you feel like staying in, Juyeon would show up, hoping to watch a movie like the good old days. But he’s met with Sunwoo at the door and doesn’t have the energy to see you being all lovey-dovey.

He knows better than to be a third wheel. As much as he understands the time you spend with your boyfriend, he can’t help but feel jealous and left out. You’re not trying to make him feel that way, you just needed Sunwoo’s presence.

The two of you met in your 3rd year of thesis. He was actually the student under your supervision for his end-of-studies internship. You obviously spent six months seeing each other and working together – in the lab, the library, cafes and even at home. You both grew closer in no time, and that’s only fair given the fact that Sunwoo is a living comedian. You don’t think you would have made it through the whole editing process without his support.

The funniest thing he had ever done was that he was proofreading your work while you did the same for his. Sure enough, you both graduated with the help from one another and a couple of kisses were shared.

From Juyeon’s point of view, those six months felt like an eternity. He had a girlfriend at the time and couldn’t really go out with you. You were both busy for different reasons, but still tried to see each other once a week. But when you did see each other, you always talked about Sunwoo and he talked about his girlfriend. That’s what your lives were made of, but it was a little heartbreaking that you were best friends who only talked about your partners.

“How’s the job hunt going?” He asked at one of your meetings.

“Great actually, I felt like giving up, but I didn’t endure those three years to throw it all away, did I? Sunwoo helped me a lot, he’s my lifesaver.”

Juyeon felt like throwing up, as if his heart had been stepped on the moment he heard those words, and he didn’t know why.

“What about you?” You asked him, cutting his train of thought.

Oh, he knew you were talking about his own job, which he quit a few months ago (more like he’s on a break because he’s burned out). But it’s not like he has to tell you; he doesn’t have the guts to anyway. He thinks you would be sad and angry with him, when all you really want is for him to be happy. And he’s also upset that he’s had to give up on his dream job because it was affecting his health. Thankfully, his boss has been kind enough to give him a chance to rest up for now. Maybe all he needs to keep going is your reassurance?

“We broke up.” He says quietly, looking down at his hands.

“I’m so sorry Juyo, aren’t you too sad?” You say as you reach out to him.

“To be honest, I am.” He admits, looking up at you, a small smile forms on his lips. “It was a mutual agreement, but I feel like I screwed it up. She said I needed to think about my own needs and wants.”

“And what do you want?”

“To spend time with you.” He says straightforwardly.

Your cheeks flushed at his sudden comment. Has he always been so honest?

“I’m free tomorrow if you’re fine with that? Sunwoo is going out with his band.” You say, eager to spend more time with him. “Oh, and Juyo; you should know that I will always make time for you. You’re a big part of my life and I care about you more than anyone else so please do not hesitate to reach out if you need anything. I’m just one call away.”

“I know that but I always seem to bother you.” He says, a little ashamed to think so.

“You don’t. What makes you think that?” You frown at his words, wondering if he actually meant them. “You have no idea how much I look forward to our weekly meetings! It keeps me going during the week, I swear, ask Sunwoo he only hears about you.”

“Oh,” he responded, feeling delighted with your words.

“Yes Juyo, I miss you a lot.” You gasped shyly, suddenly very focused on your hot cup.

“I miss you even more.” He looks for your eyes with a hint of fondness that you don’t notice, even when you raise your head to tell him,

“So tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he smiles, pleased to see you smile back with the same touch of affection.

When you think about it, you don’t understand how it is possible to break up with Lee Juyeon. You didn’t really know the girl he was dating, you never met her, you only saw her face in a picture once. But you do know your best friend, and he’s not the type to break someone’s heart. He would fight for the person he loves, even if it doesn’t work out. Juyeon is love personified. So how can you reject him?

Woo ☼ (3)

Sweetheart I miss you

When are you coming back home

I have a present for you

What kind of present?

Me ;)

OMW

Juyo <3 (1)

Thanks for today, I can’t wait for tomorrow. Pick you up at 10?

Will be pretty and ready!

Always pretty but ready? I’m looking forward to it

As soon as you read his message, your heart began to thump real loud and your cheeks immediately flushed red. Who are you and what have you done to Juyeon? When did he become so flirty? Or maybe he has always been like this and you never cared before. But why do you even care now? 

When you were 16, you remember vividly how he kissed your hand goodbye because he was a gentleman and you were a darling. Everyone at school made fun of you for being so old-fashioned, but little did they know that you liked it. Eventually, when you turned 17, he dropped the act and started kissing your forehead instead. It was a hundred per cent worse. Your cheeks turned pink every time you thought about it and people were calling you out for being highkey on PDA and asking you to spare the singles.

Maybe then he was always this flirty.

It didn’t matter much to you because it was puppy love. The first man you ever loved. Until Sunwoo came into the picture.

“How was your date sweetheart?” You laugh into the kiss he greets you with.

“Pretty good, I think I’m developing feelings, I don’t know, he’s just so sweet and- Ouch Sunwoo!” You yelped, surprised by his sudden, somewhat erotic gesture.

“What?” He giggles innocently.

“You didn’t have to pin me against the wall, did you?” You ask rhetorically, knowing full well what his answer will be.

“I did,” his sparkling eyes turn to onyx, his tongue runs over his lips and his gaze travels up and down your body as he answers.

“Yeah?” You whisper, aroused by his deep voice.

“Yes.”

His plump lips are all over yours in an instant, taking your breath away. To deepen the kiss and emphasise his need to be closer, he grabs your legs so you can wrap them around his waist and welcome him in. Your arms wrap around his neck as you yield, kissing him back with passion and love. He doesn’t let go until you’re both out of breath, and then he kisses you again and again like a madman. Eventually, you’re so lost in the pleasure of his kisses that when you feel him nipping at your neck, you push him away, panting.

“I understand that Juyeon is your best friend,” he says with a heavy voice. “But you can’t joke about dating another man.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as he runs his tongue over your lips before kissing you lazily. You stick out your tongue, waiting for him to resume his kiss. He chuckles at your behaviour but kisses you nonetheless.

“Good girl hm, are you hungry?” He utters with lustful and honey dripping eyes.

“Let’s take this into the bedroom then.” At his promise to take you to heaven, you nod eagerly, excited to see what he has planned for you.

You don’t quite remember what happened after that, too lost in lust and love. You felt the kisses on your forehead and the caresses in your hair before he left the bed.

Suddenly, nothing. All you felt was emptiness.

You turn to check your phone when you yelp in pain because your back hurts. Your man was a beast last night.

Wait.

9:30am?

You hurriedly get out of bed, taking in your dishevelled appearance and the hickeys Sunwoo had the courtesy to leave on your body. You’re ashamed to go out like this, because you know that you have little to no time to cover them up.

More importantly, Juyeon will notice them. It’s not that you cared about exposing your sex life, you have a lot of fun with Sunwoo and he’s the greatest in and out of bed. But for Juyeon to see you in such a vulnerable way? It does something to you and you can’t figure out why.

You never talked about your sex life with Juyeon although you are best friends; you two are kind of secretive. Sure, there were times when you complained that your exes were terrible kissers or that dates were horrible. But when it comes to any form of intimacy, it was out of the books. You both never joked about kinks, never asked about turn-ons. Yet, you shared your very first kiss with Juyeon when you were 16.

It was a bit messy and hilarious because you had no idea what you were doing. You remember how when he dropped you off after school or after a playdate, he had this cute habit of kissing your hand goodbye. It was also at that age when you started going to parties – a party between friends, no alcohol, maybe just some cheap beer that tasted like grass. But that was fun and it was also the time when you were introduced to love, through couples and kisses.

Love has always been a foreign language to you. You know for a fact that love is what your parents share with each other, through physical touch, words of affirmation, acts of service, quality time, gifts but also through struggles.

But you also know that the person you’re closest to doing those things is Juyeon. You both were always cuddling, fighting over movies or places to eat. You both would also cheer, support and reassure each other.

You both would always have each other on your minds, sending texts, calling or buying sweet things. It’s only fair that you thought you were in love with him, isn’t it?

And that faithful night, at your birthday party, he thought it would be a great idea to carry you and run around in circles until he lost his balance and fell with you laying on top of him. You didn’t know what was going through his mind, but you saw flames in his starry eyes, and then he pecked at your lips. He brushed it off by pulling you up and wishing you a happy birthday but your heart was racing and so was his.

“Sorry Ju, I woke up late, I didn’t want to keep you waiting,” you pout as you reached his car, pressing a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank god your prettiness makes up for lost time,” he jokingly hugs you, his hands laying a little low on your waist. “But you have to take responsibility for making me wait.”

“Juyeon! It’s been 5 minutes you can’t blame me for the delay!” You wriggle into his embrace and put your head in the crook of his neck, a little embarrassed but wanting to be close to him.

“I can, and that’s exactly what I’m doing,” he whistles, taking you out of his arms to observe the love bites on your fair skin. “Maybe you’d be on time if you hadn’t had so much fun last night.”

“Y-Yeah, I walked into a trap,” you stammered, speechless.

“The kind of trap you can’t refuse, I bet.”

And he opens the passenger door before giving you his hand to help you get in. You look at his hand and then straight into his eyes to understand where that confidence comes from, but he just smiles and nods.

“Come on, we have much to do before the carriage turns into a pumpkin.” He smiles and fights with the wind to tuck a wild strand of hair behind your ear.

Spending time with Juyeon is one of the things you adore the most in the world. You were so used to spending your days with him when you were teenagers that you almost forgot what it was like. The princess treatment, the cafe dates, the shopping and giving opinions on outfits, the restaurants. Now that you’re all grown up, reliving those moments feels a little bit odd but great. After all, you’re the same people who dance to the music in every corner shop and laugh at every silly move you make.

Going out with Juyeon is also all about treats and gifts. You have this implicit rule that when you’re out and about, you’re encouraged to pay in turns – be it at the restaurants, bars or for desserts. And of course, he pleases you more often than you please him, but you tend to buy more things related to him – matching items or clothes that reflect his style.

“Look at this cute bracelet! We should get it to celebrate our 10 years offriendship,” you beamed, slipping the bracelet around his wrist without a word of protest to see how it looks.

“But it’s paired with a promise ring?” He comments, in case you haven’t noticed and had a change of heart.

“Then we can get the ring in another 10 years,” you giggle and squeeze his hand to reassure him that this is what you want.

Happy with your little joke, you went to the cashier to buy the bracelets. But it sparked something within Juyeon’s heart. He may be slow to understand, but you don’t have to tell him twice. You consider him to be your significant other. That’s what a promise ring means.

After all, you wanted to commit yourself to him for the rest of your life. You’re his best friend and that should be normal. It is normal to stick by each other’s side. But why is his heart missing a beat?

If you ask Juyeon about his relationship with you, he would describe it as “enchanting”. You’re the most important thing to him. Ever since he bumped into you in 3rd grade, you two have been inseparable. But there’s something that’s always bothered him.

In the beginning, he thought it was because you were the only one that he was really close to. He didn’t look at you any differently. But every time you smiled, he felt a twist in his stomach. Then he made it his goal to make you blush and to kiss your hand. It was thrilling to see you all flustered by his own actions.

He grew up and unfortunately that feeling never went away. In the end, he thought that maybe it was just the hormones. A 16-year-old boy needs to get to know his body and its needs. That’s what he did. Eventually the feelings vanished, but the uncomfortable feeling stayed. Even when he was with his ex.

He’s well aware that you are in a relationship with Sunwoo and that the two of you are in love. He’s never been happier for you. After all the people who have taken advantage of you, you deserve someone positive. Someone who will be there for you and will make you feel loved and truly fall in love. Like Sunwoo.

And yet, he doesn’t know why he’s so attracted to you. He needs to explore his feelings. At least to understand them. Even if it costs him.

“How about a drink?” He asks as the sun is about to go down.

“No, you need to drive safely.” You flinched, clearly against the idea of losing him in such a stupid way.

“What about my place? You know I have this amazing balcony overlooking the sea.” He offers in return with a smirk.

“Deal,” you say with gleaming eyes.

You love Juyeon’s apartment; it has a soft and romantic atmosphere and it’s even more beautiful when the sun goes down. The many plants he has turn a warm orange with the colours of the sky and you swear, it’s so beautiful, like a haven of peace.

“Red or white?” He asks, holding the two bottles out for you.

“Anything’s fine, choose for me please Juyo,” you sing-song, happy to share this moment with him.

While you are setting up his balcony table with candles and wine glasses, he returns with a red bottle and appetisers. He gestures for you to sit on the bean bag and pour the wine like a real chef. You whistle, impressed by his newfound skill. Furthermore, it wouldn’t be Juyeon if he didn’t do a little dance to make you laugh before handing you your glass.

Now that he’s seated, you allow yourself to take in your surroundings. It’s quiet, but you can hear the faint music coming from the living room speakers. Juyeon has never liked the silence, so he always needs to have some kind of background music to feel comfortable. He says it calms him down, especially when he’s nervous, and you have to agree with that.

But does that mean that he was nervous right now?

He never needed music with you, as he always said your voice was his own melody – the harmony he couldn’t get enough of. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, pulling you out of your reverie.

You nod, knowing exactly what he means, and reach out to take his hand. He intertwines your fingers and, in the pink-orange hues of the sky you catch yourself blushing. You risk a glance to see him starring absent-mindedly into space and you seize the opportunity to stare him down.

His bangs, usually on his forehead are pushed back, giving him a more mature and sexy look. His eyes, in a beautiful crescent shape, shine with the intensity of the stars. His pretty nose sits up on his face, like a trophy ready to be claimed. And his lips. They’re curled into a gentle smile.

Without a care in the world, he runs his tongue over them and opens them as if he wanted to speak. But no sound comes out, except for the tongue he’s now biting. Suddenly, as if he was aware that you are looking at him, he turns to meet your gaze. Truth be told, you weren’t very discreet. His dark eyes hold yours, then move to your lips, and you see the faint beginnings of a smirk on his lips before he bursts into laughter. 

“Like what you see?” He points out, all smug.

That fucker.

You slapped him playfully before you realised you were biting your lips. Yet, he still looks at you as if you were the one who hung the stars in the sky and shone in their place.

All of a sudden, his eyes turn mischievous and you find yourself in his arms as he leads you into the living room. He turns up the music, grabs the camera, puts on a pair of framed glasses and starts dancing. You joined him, because there is no world in which you wouldn’t follow Juyeon. You dance like you’re in a club, grab the wine bottle and shout the lyrics at the top of your lungs. Juyeon films you through the mirror and you play along, you’re the model, he’s the artist. Until he puts the camera in a corner to film the both of you and starts to dance an old choreo that you both did. You smile broadly and the night goes by like this. In between drinking and dancing.

At some point, you find yourselves taking a stroll, jumping and dancing around poles. Oh, but you’re not drunk! Juyeon took out his camera and kept filming you, laughing. The man was hyping you up, the street was your runway! And even though it was a little embarrassing, you had a lot of fun. Trust Juyeon to make you feel the best!

Around midnight, you were eating ice cream in the nearest park when your phone screen lit up with a call.

Woo ☼.

Oh, no. You forgot to inform him you were going out with yesterday’s activities.

“Babyyyyy,” he whines, sounding tired, “where you aaaat.”

“At Juyeon’s, we-“ You’re cut off as Juyeon steals your phone, brushing against your hands a little too long.

“Sorry,” he hiccups, “is it all right if we keep each other company for the night? I can’t drive right now.” Juyeon tries to apologise but is cut short by Sunwoo.

“Had a fun night I see?”

You can feel his anger rising from the way his voice drops an octave. Sunwoo has always been jealous of Juyeon. When you got together, he was very insecure at first, knowing that you had a male best friend and seeing you spend so much time with him. It took some time, but the trust you’ve built up has overcome that awful feeling.

You still have to reassure him sometimes, and that’s okay because Juyeon is your best friend and Sunwoo is your boyfriend. You love them both in different ways. You talked about it with Juyeon and later he got jealous because you spent all your time with Sunwoo on your trip to comfort him. It wasn’t easy, but they learnt to trust you. Along the way, you may have convinced yourself that everything would be fine.

“Sunny, baby, I’m sorry I didn’t inform you. I will sleep at Juyeon’s and be back first thing in the morning before you wake up,” you say in a soft voice, trying to soothe him.

“I’m sorry too,” he voices out, letting out a breath lost in his own emotions, “I panicked when I didn’t see you at home. But I’m glad you’re all right.”

“I know,” you sighed, glancing at Juyeon, “I’m in good hands, I promise.”

“Hurry back, I miss my goodnight kiss already.” He replies, seemingly content with the current arrangement.

“Will be there in no time,” you giggled.

“I love you,” he answers, a smile blooming in his voice.

“I love you too.”

He hangs up just as he called, smiley, which makes you beam in return. However, when you turn to face Juyeon he’s anything but smiling. In his frowning eyes you decipher a sombre mood. Something in complete contrast to the joy you shared tonight. You reach out to grab his hand, but he pulls it back before you can do so.

“We should head back, it’s getting late.” He says firmly.

Your heart breaks at his words. Without giving him a chance, you cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. The hurt look in his eyes makes your heart swell. You scan him to see if he wants to answer, but he avoids you. You’re so close and yet so far away. You feel like throwing up, because your best friend never acted like this around you. He never once avoided you nor stopped talking to you. Thus, you did the only thing you can think of.

You hugged him, as tightly as you can.

You feel his heart pounding and wonder if it’s from the unknown emotions he’s carrying or from your physical touch. You put your hand on his broad chest to feel his heartbeat and plant a kiss on it to reassure him. It stirs something in Juyeon and he hugs you back so tightly you think you’ll lose your breath. He holds you in his arms for what seems like an eternity, your head nestled in the crook of his neck. But you don’t complain, you felt safe.

You stay there, in the warm embrace that contrasts with the cool of the night, squeezing him a little tighter when you hear passers-by whistling lovingly at you. When he lets go, you can see the faint pink colour that tints his cheeks, brought out by the street lights. But little did you know that you have the same colours on your face, if not stronger?

“You okay?” You ask as you rub small circles on his back.

“Yes I am,” he lies openly in a husky voice, “I’m okay.”

Juyeon is fucked. Completely screwed. He’s absolutely, unquestionably and sincerely in love with you.

He has been for quite some time, now that he thinks about it. But he never admitted it. That damned twist in his gut that never left his mind, he knows where it comes from now.

In order to cope with his newfound feelings he lets you use the bathroom first while he changes the sheets and tidies up the living room. He’s floating, not sure if he will ever get a wink of sleep. Especially if you both sleep in the same bed. Because to you, he’s just your best friend, the one you’ve slept with countless times. No strings attached.

He can’t imagine you in his arms, nor can he look forward to waking up by your side. You’re not his.

“Juyo?” Your tired voice echoes from the corridor. “C-Can I get some clothes?”

Oh. That doesn’t mean anything. You have always shared clothes. Then why was he so excited to see you in them? Right, because he’s madly in love with you and knows you will look ravishing in his big shirt. Also because sharing clothes is such an intimate thing couples do. If he lends you his current pyjamas because they have his scent on them, you couldn’t blame him. He’s just a man.

“Are you coming?” You inquire, walking towards him.

It’s worse than anything he’d ever imagined. The shirt is definitely too big for you going down one shoulder, showing the beginning of your chest and reaching halfway up your thighs. What’s more, your pretty thighs are covered by the shorts that rises up when you sit next to him. He looks away, embarrassed to be staring at you.

“I will sleep on the couch, don’t worry about me.”

“No way,” you retorted with little energy left, “your bed is big enough for both of us.”

He’s been acting strange today. First he was feeling all overconfident, then flirtatious, followed by anger, and now shyness and embarrassment. You take a piece of the blanket lying on his lap and you stretch your legs out on the sofa, letting your head fall on his shoulder. Sleep can wait, Juyeon can’t.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Don’t lie to me.” You ask, breathing softly into his ear.

“No,” he shudders, with a faraway look in his eyes, “I’m not okay and I don’t know how to get through this.”

“What’s wrong Juyo? Do you want to talk about it?” You pause to gauge his reaction. “Is it about your ex?”

“More or less,” he breathes out. “The breakup wasn’t that bad, like I said, it was a mutual decision. It’s just- when you started dating Sunwoo I was so happy for you, happy that you found someone who was worthy of your love and loved you the right way. And I thought I would be happy if I found that special someone, I longed for it. But I ended up in different relationships throughout the year, never lasting more than two months. And that’s ok, maybe they weren’t the right person for me, maybe it wasn’t the right time, maybe this, maybe that. I really thought I was going to be happy and I ended up getting my heart broken every time. As much as I believe now that I don’t deserve to be loved. I think I went into my last relationship in that state of mind, and I think she felt it too. Hard not to, is it? We had long talks and great times together; I think I really liked her. And I know she liked me back, I’m just not ready to be in an exclusive relationship right now.”

And everything he said is true, he’s more than happy for you and he thought he would be happy. But he can’t be happy in a relationship that isn’t with you.

“There’s also something I’ve never told you,” he continues, sniggering at the absurdity of his reasoning. “Something I should have told you a long time ago, it doesn’t make me proud, and it sort of reflects why my love life was so messed up. I can’t say it’s the only reason, but it played a big part in my mental health.”

You want to cry so badly, he has endured it all alone and it must have weighed heavily on him. At this point, you’re just waiting to speak and respond but every word that comes out of his beautiful mouth leaves you speechless. You’re such a bad friend that you’ve never noticed the way his eyes get dark and gloomy, or how he cancels your plans at the last minute because he’s got something else planned. When in fact it was sadness overload. Sure everyone has their own coping mechanisms, you wish you could have been there for him, but here you were Juyeon letting you in and you’re here to stay.

“It’s been two months since I was diagnosed with burnout and stopped working. It started off as something mild when I came home more exhausted than usual. I thought I wasn’t getting enough sleep but then I started to feel mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted. It was hard to concentrate on my daily tasks and you know how much I love my job? I felt like I was going to die because I couldn’t even have fun doing what I love. Going out with you, my friends or my ex felt great, but I wasn’t as invested as I used to be.” He pauses to catch his breath and swallow back the tears.

“Don’t get me wrong, today was absolutely perfect and I was hyped, I still am. Today felt like going back to when we were sixteen and I loved it. I’m actually starting to feel better. The break up helped a lot because it was taking a toll on my mental health. I know I said I liked her and I did, but I couldn’t help but feel unwanted. Even when she was riding me,” he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.

“And it hurts that I didn’t have the guts to talk to you about it because I was afraid of how you would react. Like, hello, I’m taking a break from work because I feel like shit? And I would really like to get your approval so that I can move on. Because you mean everything to me,” he ends shyly.

“Juyeon,” you say in a soft and caring voice, “you mean the world to me too.”

You continued. “You mean the whole world to me and I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me the most. I could come up with something, but it wouldn’t make up for what you’ve been through. You are strong, stronger than anyone. It’s so hard to keep your head above water that I’m proud of you for speaking up and even stopping work. Because focusing on your health is the most important thing. Situation and money may go but I will always stay. I’m so proud of you, proud of who you are and who you’re becoming. You’ll never stop growing and I’ll be there every step of the way, watching you blossom and be happy.”

“And I know you feel like you’ll never be happy,” you resumed, holding his hand. “The only thing I can say is, as hard as it seems, everything you live makes you stronger. Even more beautiful. There’s someone in this world waiting patiently for you, to love you properly, to make you feel loved and wanted. You’re an exceptional person, Juyeon. By that I mean you go above and beyond the call of duty, you give your total support and care, you show up when something’s wrong and I bet you’re an even more protective lover. We did everything together, cried, laughed, smiled, loved. My youth was filled with you and I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t happy because you were and are always by my side.”

“Today was the best time I’ve had in weeks, and that’s because I am with you. We danced, a lot. And you know how dancing has always been our escape,” you paused as you saw the first hint of a smile creep across his face as you continued. “I saw your smile, it was genuine and you were so beautiful. It may have been hard, you’ve been hard on yourself, but today the man I saw was happy. I’m happy because you’re happy, and I’m sad when you’re sad. We are one Juyeon, and I want you to know that I’m here for you, always.”

Long before you have finished speaking, he has taken you in his arms. His embrace is not heavy, but you can feel the weight on his shoulders lighten. You have so many feelings for him, they all blend together and you don’t seem to feel the butterflies in your stomach or the fire he has lit in your heart.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he confesses.

“And what would I be without you?”

Your head rests on his chest and he’s suddenly afraid you can hear his heart beating. You’re so beautiful, your tired eyes fighting sleep and your lashes fluttering. His shirt slipped off your shoulder as he held you in his arms and the permanent smile on your face makes him completely weak. He could kiss you right now. If only you were single.

“Let’s go to sleep, hm?” He caresses your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Together?” You cracked yet another smile.

“Together,” he grins from ear to ear.

Your arms find their way around his neck and you bend your head to make an implicit request. His hands go around your waist and below your knees before he stands up and carries you bridal style. You both laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but also blushed at the romantic gesture. He sets you down on (what his brain calls) your side of the bed and plants a kiss on your forehead.

He then goes through his nightly routine before coming back to you, wrapped in the covers, fast asleep. His heart is about to explode. Now that he is aware of his feelings, he is overwhelmed by the love he has been repressing. He slides in next to you and holds back from embracing you. And if you happen to get close and make your way into his arms, he’ll be delighted to hold you tight.

“Sleep well Starlight, I love you,” he mumbles, kissing your hair.

“I love you more Juyo.”

Waking up the next morning wasn’t as awkward as Juyeon might have thought after the pseudo-confession you heard. He woke up first when he felt you shift in his arms. Because yes, you ended up in his arms, face against his torso. He tried not to make a big deal out of it, calming his breathing and enjoying the warmth of your body. Absentmindedly, his hand caresses your tangled hair, smoothing it and slowly waking you from your slumber.

“Good morning Starlight,” he says, honey dripping from his hoarse voice. “Slept well?”

“Like a baby, you?” You yawned, looking up from his chest.

“Even better than a baby.” He doesn’t want to let you go, once you’re out of his bedroom he’ll have to go back to his little miserable life without your starlight to light it up.

“Shall we take you home? Your boyfriend might get impatient,” he laughs, remembering the events of the previous night.

“Well, he’ll have to wait until I’m full from breakfast! I know someone who makes pancakes to die for,” you winked as you get out of his clothes and disappear into the bathroom.

You know you said you’d be back before he wakes up, and you want to. You miss him. But being in Juyeon’s arms, feeling the regular beat of his heart, makes you feel at home. You don’t want to end what you both have now.

You eat breakfast in relatively silence, except when Juyeon tries to flip the pancakes in the frying pan only to have one stick to the wall. And you watch him adoringly from where you sit, trying to make up for his silliness.

In the end, you leave his apartment in no time at all, dreading your return to your own home. Even though you know that Sunwoo is patiently waiting for you. The last two days you spent with Juyeon were out of time, it was an enchanted interlude and the return to real life suddenly seems very difficult.

He drops you off in front of the building, not without kissing you on the cheek and saying goodbye for the last time. You try not to think of it as a date night as you head for the front door but he’s quick to say “We’re not done yet, you’ll see me more often now” he chimed as he watches you smile and gets in.

The smile doesn’t leave your face until you turn the key in the lock and come face to face with Sunwoo, smiling from head to toe. He takes you in his arms and spins you around before planting kisses all over your face.

“Sunny,” you giggled, “please.”

“But I missed you,” you press a kiss to his lips as he answers, and you feel him smile through it.

“I’m sorry I overreacted, you know I get scared easily, but I shouldn’t take it out on you when you haven’t done anything,” he apologised, bowing his head.

“No, it’s my fault too,” you shake your head. “We had a crazy night and when I woke up you were gone. I was also late and didn’t want to keep him waiting.”

“You know that I’m jealous of Juyeon, right? He might be your best friend, but he might see you as more than that. You can’t say you didn’t want him to wait, because what, you’re willing to make me wait like yesterday but not him? It’s unfair, because you always end up prioritising him.” He bellows, frustrated.

“Sunwoo please,” you begged. “Sunwoo, listen to me, please.” He takes a step back, feeling his anger rising.

“To say what? That you needed to be with him? That he needs you? Bullshit, look me in the eye and tell me he doesn’t have feelings for you!” He shouts in a pissed off rage.

He goes back into the living room and you follow him to see him pacing back and forth. You can tell he’s furious. He always gets angry when you mention Juyeon and it pisses you off. You can’t even spend a day with your best friend because he gets jealous? You’ve been together long enough to think he’s finally understood that he’s the one you love. But as displeased as you are, you’ll never stop telling him and reminding him that you love him. Because couples fight, because he’s insecure and because you care.

“You might as well develop feelings for him!” He spits vociferously.

“He broke up with his girlfriend and lost his job,” you drop, tired of this pointless battle. “So yes, he needed me. And yes, I needed to be with him. I feel like an absolutely shitty friend because I’ve been sitting in his company for weeks and I didn’t even notice that his heart was being broken to pieces. You can shout at me as much as you want Sunwoo, but you’re the one I love. Juyeon may need me again in the future and I’ll be there for him, but at the end of the day I love you and only you.”

“You’re lying. T-There’s no way he…“ He tries to take your hand but you step back, annoyed.

“Have I ever lie to you, Sunwoo?”

The sheepish and upset look on his face is enough to tell you that he’s blaming himself. So you lead him over to the sofa and tell him everything, from the break-up to his exhaustion, which means burnout, but leave out the private details. It’s a lot to take in, and you wonder if he’ll ever believe you. Why would you lie about something so important?

You love Sunwoo, you really do. But you can’t help but be a little irritated by his behaviour. You feel terrible for even thinking and feeling this way, but Juyeon is your best friend! What was wrong with that? What doesn’t he understand about the word “best friend”? You sighed as you take him in your arms and stroke his back, both to calm him down and to ease your own mind. You hold each other for a while, for as long as your hearts desire, but your minds wander to Juyeon. You miss him and you wonder what he’s up to, when you’ll see each other again. Another sigh escapes your lips and Sunwoo looks at you questioningly.

“Movie?” You ask, trying to divert your attention from Juyeon.

“It’s 11,” he chuckles, finally at peace.

“Yeah, so? We can order pizzas and spend the day at home?” You kiss his hand with doe eyes.

“Sounds like a fabulous idea,” he quickly grabs his phone to place an order, “same as usual?”

“I’m feeling adventurous today, so pick whatever you like!”

You hear your own phone buzzing as he focuses on the app again. And obviously it’s the boy of all the arguments, the one who’s been on your mind since you got home and who seems to be distracting you a lot.

Juyo <3 (1)

I miss ya, whatcha doing?

Thinking about u

That ain’t possible

Whyyyy

Because I’m thinking about you

“Who are you talking to with that smiley face?” Sunwoo asks, tilting his head.

“Changmin, he’s talking about the person he met and he seems so in love.”

It's a half-hearted lie, because Changmin told you about the person he recently met, but also because if you say Juyeon's name right now, civil war will break out.

Juyo <3

Oh yeah, prove it?

Seconds later, your phone rings with an incoming call from Juyeon.

Juyo <3

JUYEON YOU CAN’T DO THIS

YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME

Aw pretty’s scared by a sudden phone call?

Actually…

You take a second to answer, pondering if it’s a good idea to tell him about your couple’s conflict. Especially when he’s the one causing it.

Juyo <3 (1)

Am I disturbing you?

You always turn my world upside down

Same goes for you Starlight ;)

So?

I had a fight with Sunwoo

Nothing bad, we already made up

But it’s becoming a recurring thing, and I hate it

Have you talked about it?

That it’s getting hard for you?

Yes and no

We always talk about it, set limits and make up but weeks later it’s as if the conversation never happened

As much as I love him I’m tired Ju

No, you don’t have the right to say you’re tired, because that would mean you’re ready to give up on your relationship for a few fights?

I’m afraid that’s not a valid reason

And I know you’re not the type to give up on someone you love

So take matters into your own hands, spend the day with him and make out ffs

Yeah, haha, you’re right

We’ll eat pizzas and watch a film, that’ll definitely help

And I’ll see if he’s nice enough to make out with him

I can be good for you instead ;)

Yah! You’re losing points Lee Juyeon!

I’m only aiming for the 10s sorry!

Right in the bull’s eye

Which is my heart yes

GTG JUYO

TTYL I LOVE YOU

<3

And I love you more <3

You saw his message through the notification, which you cowardly rejected, but that didn’t stop you from smiling. The conversation had to end quickly, as you were venturing into uncharted territory that doesn't leave you impassive. Besides, Sunwoo was getting suspicious of your big smile.

And he’s right, because what the hell was that? You’re such a coward whose heart beats a hundred miles an hour. He’s definitely winning points, but you’ll never admit it, and to what end? Your heart doesn’t know yet.

On the contrary, Juyeon’s heart beats wildly at your bravery. He doesn’t want to flirt despite his growing feelings, but you leave the door open too wide for him not to come in.

You’re still his best friend, so if you ever need advice or a listening ear, he’ll be there. Like that horrible joke about making out, he hated it. But he knew that it would make you laugh and feel better, because he knows you better than anyone else.

So why can’t he read your feelings? You're not usually so cryptic for no reason, he's sure of that. Yet the changes in your heart can be seen gradually: your sweet words, as well as the ambiguous ones, all carry a special and deep meaning. You’re a book Juyeon is dying to read, but you’re not descriptive enough for him to decipher just yet.

Sunwoo used to read you easily, but he’s not sure of anything anymore. He knows that you love him, that your love language consists of words of affirmation and that you never stop reminding him of it. And yet his insecurities always get the best of him and you end up fighting. The truth is, he’s afraid. You’ve always spent a lot of time with Juyeon and that’s fair, you’ve known each other for almost ten years. But shouldn’t you make up for that time with your one-year boyfriend?

He knows he can’t restrict you or your outings, that would be a dick move and he’s not a dick. You have lots of boy friends and he’s okay with that, but Juyeon? Juyeon annoys him. He seems too perfect to be true:  his looks, his gentle and romantic nature. He’s in a one-sided competition because Juyeon couldn’t care less. Or so he thought until now.

Halfway through the film, you're cuddled up in his arms, laughing, when his phone vibrates. Why on earth is Juyeon texting him?

Juyeon (1)

I just wanted to apologise for yesterday. This is not a valid reason, but I wanted to keep my best friend to myself for a while. I’m sorry if that hurt you.

Apology accepted. We’re adults and you’re defo not the one to blame but I appreciate it.

Thanks man

It cost Juyeon a lot to send that message. But in his place, he would have been furious if the situation had happened to him. So he toned it down, to ease the tension and make you feel better. But he’d do it again any time; anything to spend time with you.

And that’s exactly what happened in the weeks that followed.

You spent the whole week with Sunwoo after your meeting with Juyeon, going with him to his band rehearsals, shopping for clothes, accessories or window shopping, going on dates to the cinema, the park and restaurants. You did everything with him.

But that didn’t stop you from texting Juyeon every day. Sometimes he was the one who initiated the conversation, and other times you had to spam him to ask his opinion on the latest clothes you bought or because you missed him. Your weekly outings have also become two or three times a week, and you often meet up on his balcony for a night of dancing and drinks.

Everything is done with respect for your relationship, but you feel his hands on you longer than necessary, always within limits and sometimes in places that make you blush. For an example, he would place them on your hips, and you would be a fool to say that his little touches did not make your heart flutter. When he opens the door for you, when he orders for you without asking and never makes a mistake, or even when he gives you presents that you’ve looked at with envy. He’s so observant and attentive that causes butterflies in your stomach. The more time you spend with him, the more you can’t deny the attraction you feel.

He makes you feel like you are 16 again.

He kisses your forehead, cheek or hand when he drops you off. He holds your hand so you don’t get lost in the crowd. Even if it’s just an excuse, you let him because deep down you want him to.

And you hated yourself for it. You feel so guilty about Sunwoo. Yes, Juyeon may be a little more enterprising than usual, but he hasn’t changed his ways. You’re the one who reacts to harmless words and lazy touches. But your heart hasn’t changed. You love Sunwoo. Those feelings for Juyeon aren’t real. It is an attraction that arises because you spend all your time together, because he’s handsome and cares for you.

You’re not… in love with him.

Isn’t that right?

“Sweetheart, I bought fried chicken on the way home!” Sunwoo says one day after his rehearsal.

“Oh Sunny, you don’t know how much I’ve been craving it,” you clap, looking forward to devouring it. “Thank you.”

“Can I get a hug for being the most awesome boyfriend ever?” He asks sweetly.

“Oh you do,” you giggle, jumping into his arms.

“I love you,” he kisses your nose.

“Me too,” you reply, tiptoeing to kiss his forehead.

“Sunnyyyy,” you call out his name on a Friday afternoon. “Can I go out for the night with Kev, Minnie, Chani and Ju?”

“Sure! Don’t come back too late hm? And be careful.”

“Yes! I’ve got the four horsemen of the apocalypse to look after me and myself!” You laughed.

“Have fun Sweetheart, I love you,” he whispers, kissing your forehead.

“Me toooo Sunny,” you smiled.

And yet, as he does his best to be there for you, to shower you with love and care, you notice that your interactions are gradually diminishing. He’s not the problem but you are. Just like yesterday, you’ve been exchanging messages and at the end of all your conversations you have this cute habit of saying I love you. Except this time, you haven’t replied. You liked his message and replied with a heart.

But that’s not the only case, because you catch yourself not saying “I love you” back when you talk to him. Yet you’re still physically and intimately close. It’s as if you’re giving yourself to him in order to compensate for the emotional changes that you’re going through. And then what? You won’t even be able to kiss him? Hold his hand? Be intimate? You felt terrible, and this has been going on for months.

Perhaps the best (or worst) thing to do is to talk to him about it.

“Sunny? Can we talk?” You say out of the blue one morning.

“Yes baby, tell me?” He replies as he comes out of the bathroom, shirtless.

“Get dressed first,” you giggle.

“Why, don’t you like what you see?” He pouts, crossing his arms to emphasise his torso and you look away, ashamed to be turned on when you’re about to break his heart.

“Oh I do, but you’re distracting me from the point!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs as he pulls on a t-shirt, “is it better now?”

“Yes, thank you,” you sigh.

“Are you okay?” He asks suddenly, sensing your discomfort. “You know you can tell me anything, I’m here for you.”

“Sunwoo, I-“ you take his hand in yours for support. “You need to know that I love you, it has never changed and it will never change, the feelings I have for you are very much real and I cherish them as much as I cherish you.”

“You’re not breaking up, are you? Because I won’t let you.” His eyes are shining now and you want to go back in time. You want to erase everything that has happened in the last two and a half months, the growing romantic feelings and the hurt.

“Sunwoo, I’m not breaking up with you, you’re the person I care about the most in the world, I would never let you down. And I hate myself for what I’m about to say.” You take a deep breath and as you do you know he’s figured it out and tears start to roll down his sweet face.

“I- fell in love with Juyeon,” you drop your head in shame.

You don't have the courage to look up and see the disappointment on his face, but you force yourself to. And when you finally did, his reaction catches you by surprise. It was obviously pain and sorrow, but also resilience?

“May I ask, how?” His voice is low, almost a murmur, but his eyes search yours for the truth.

“I- don’t know, it just happened.”

“Come on, you don’t just fall in love with another man by accident,” he laughs sarcastically.

“And yet I did!” You raise your voice in annoyance. “I didn’t choose it Sunwoo. And I would go back in time if I could!”

He takes a minute to consider your words, to decide whether or not you’re telling the truth. You didn’t expect this conversation to be easy, but he doesn’t make it any easier for you. You expected him to be in denial, to yell at you and cry. Instead he went straight towards the acceptance stage and he had this heartless look on his face. You knew you deserved it because he’s right; you don’t fall in love with another man by chance.

“Does he know? That you-“ he struggles to find the words, but you let him, because it has been hard for you too. You’re in love with your best friend, and you’ve probably been in love with him since you were 16. “That you love him?”

“No, oh god no!” You panic, finally thinking of the consequences, “I wanted to tell you first because I love you and I owe you the truth.”

“But you intend to tell him?” He worries and suddenly you feel like you’re talking to your best friend, the same conversation you had before you started dating Sunwoo.

“No Sunwoo, it was never a question of telling him or not. Yes, I love Juyeon romantically, but you’re my boyfriend. And I’m not trying to fool myself by saying that I still love you, I love you. And I love Juyeon too, but I’m not going to do anything with it.”

“You’re silly,” he chuckles affectionately. “Within the two months since our fight, I’ve watched you for a long time baby. I observed your body movements, your facial expressions and your words, hoping that it was all temporary and that we’d come out of it stronger together. But all I saw was love, but towards someone else. You came home giddy, eyes full of stars. Sometimes even in a frenzy of exaltation from which I found it hard to pull you out, because knowing that you were happy made me happy. So I won’t say that I knew it, but I sensed it. And I know that you love me, I have never doubted it and I don’t doubt it now. But you love him silly. Perhaps even more than you love me. I’m not mad at you, I saw you falling for him, I just ignored the signs. And I know you didn’t choose it, nor did you want to break my heart. Your love for him is stronger and I can hear it. Thank you for telling me, it must have cost you a lot.”

You start to cry, because what else can you do but cry? You love him and it hurts you to hear him say that you love someone stronger. But he’s right. No matter how much you try to deny it, you love Juyeon unconditionally.

“Why,” you cry out.

“Why what baby,” he takes you in his arms, guiding your head in the crook of his neck and your tears start to soak his t-shirt.

“I’m pretty sure I broke your heart and stomped on it, so why aren’t you mad at me? Why are you taking it so well? I don’t understand. I feel like shit and you’re too perfect?”

“You have no idea of the pain, anger and emptiness I feel right now, I’m far from perfect,” his voice falters as he tries to hold back his tears, “but I can’t take it out on you, even though you deserve it, because you didn’t want it? Also because I didn’t speak when I realised you were drifting away. I know you blame yourself, and yes, I am heartbroken, I can’t wait to cry but I don’t want to make you sadder than you already are.”

“I don’t deserve you Sunny, I’m sorry, I love you to the moon and back,” you smile shyly.

“And I love you just as much, thank you for the love that doesn’t make me feel lonely,” he smiles back as he rubs your back in slow motions. “Can I kiss you? One last time?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

When his lips touch yours, it has never felt better. The kiss is a little salty because you have both been crying, but also sweet. It is your last kiss and you devour each other’s lips as if it were the first, not wanting to part. You quickly run out of air, but he presses his lips to yours to convey his feelings one last time and you smile, knowingly, as you kiss him back.

“You should go to him,” he says, lips swollen and eyes puffy.

“Yes, to be with my best friend. And you should call Eric for the same reason,” you sobbed, and he giggles.

“Coward,” he laughs, “but I will.”

“And Sunwoo,” you start again. “I would never do anything without your approval.”

“Thank you,” he replies, touched and aware of the feelings you will always have for him. “For everything, but especially for being with me.”

“I should be the one thanking you, my lifesaver,” you kissed his cheek as you take his hand in yours. “Let’s remain good friends, in the future.”

“Absolutely, if I ever get over you,” he laughs in a reassuring way.

You know that the joke is just his way of breaking the tension, so you laugh it off, saying that he should, and you imitated a knife at your throat as a warning, which makes him laugh heartily. Then, your heart sinks at the sound of you no longer being the recipient. Yes you fell in love with someone else, and it will be just as hard to get over him. But you have Juyeon, and he’s your rock.

Juyo <3

Juyo can I come over?

Sure, is something wrong?

These three words are enough to turn your heart upside down. He’s always been thoughtful, and now that you’ve accepted your feelings, you feel butterflies swirling in your tummy.

Juyo <3

Sunwoo and I broke up

I’ll pick you up in 5

Yes pls, drive safely

He pulls up in the parking lot exactly 5 minutes after his message, just like he said. You rush down the stairs, too eager to melt into his arms to wait for the lift. He doesn’t have time to get out of the car before you throw yourself on him, crying. Tears of separation and heartbreak, and tears of joy when you see him again because you know you love him.

“I’m here,” he whispers in a panicked voice, probably not expecting you so soon and in such a state. “I’m right here, let it out.”

And you do, the feelings you’ve been burying for 2 months are just waiting to be expressed. You cry until your body aches from lack of air and your eyes are dry. Finally, you shiver and regret having gone out so quickly without covering up. But Juyeon is just as quick to pull the jacket he was wearing over your shoulders and you hum happily as his scent washes over you.

“Let’s go home?” He caresses your hair tenderly.

You’re amazed that he doesn’t ask any questions, he just stands by you and supports you through this difficult ordeal that he knows only too well. And the truth is, he’s even sad for you. No matter how much he loves you, you’re the definition of love to him. For you to break up with Sunwoo, for whatever reason, doesn’t make any sense. It’s not his place to ask if you don’t tell him first, so he just holds your hand on the way back, and when he has to let go to change gear, he makes sure he puts it back on your thigh.

This makes you blush like a tomato, how dare he put his big hand on your thigh, almost completely covering it whole. You’re pretty sure your feelings are written all over your face, but he mistakes your blushing for embarrassment, when in fact it’s just romantic stimulation. You look up to see if his hand placement has any effect on him, only to find that he is blushing as well. Being as dense as he is, you mistook his shyness for embarrassment.

You two definitely make quite the pair.

“Make yourself at home Starlight,” he says as he opens the front door, never stopping to hold your hand.

You step inside as he tells you to and try to take off your shoes, planning to curl up on the sofa under the blanket while you wait for him and his hugs. But he had other ideas as he grabs your wrist to pull you closer, pinning you between him and the newly closed front door. Your surprise translates into a gasp that becomes a choke as he drops to one knee. Your heart pounds in your chest at the way he looks at you, worshipping you. Without warning, he bends down to untie your shoelaces, still smiling and even a little mischievous.

“What?” He smiles proudly. “Can’t I look after my Starlight?”

You open your mouth to speak but no sound comes out, too surprised by his playful tone.

“Cat got your tongue?” He sticks out his tongue as he stands up.

“Yes, you got it!” You slap him gently as a reward for nervousness.

“Not in my mouth though…” He whispers so quietly you almost don’t hear it, and that earns him another slap, only he steps back to avoid your blow and you stumble and fall on top of him.

“I guess it will be easier to carry you now,” he chuckles, kissing your forehead.

He puts his arms under your knees and around your waist and you squeal as he lifts you up, bridal style. This man will be the death of you. Oh, how you would kiss him if you weren’t so heartbroken and hadn’t just broken up. And he would kiss you just as much. You’re both madly in love and it shows.

He wraps you in a blanket as he lays you down on the sofa before kissing your forehead for the umpteenth time. Then he goes into the kitchen and fetches your favourite foods, drinks and desserts, which he sets out on the coffee table. You were surprised by the homemade dishes, as if he’d made them with a special purpose in mind. But he doesn’t say a word or make a comment, he just slips under your blanket when he’s done and hugs you, breathing in your scent.

You stay in each other’s arms for a while, not saying a word, just enjoying your hearts beating in unison. It feels heavenly, relaxing and you can almost feel yourself coming back to life. If Sunwoo was your lifesaver, Juyeon is your guardian angel. He is always looking out for you and giving you his utmost special care, just like right now, for no particular reason (even if there is one now).

He doesn’t pry, he just waits for you to speak while he grabs the remote to put on the latest show you’ve started together and feeds you. You’re quite grateful for the little comments he makes during the show, distracting you from the truth: the burning love you have for him that consumes you. In the end, you tell him that you still love Sunwoo, but that your recent incessant arguments have taken their toll on you.

That, against all odds, you’ve spilt up properly. And that it will be a while before you move on, but that the door is not closed. You made sure to emphasise this part, because what if there’s a small chance that Sunwoo was right and Juyeon is a fool in love with you? You’re not ready yet, but when the time comes, you want to confess your love to him and live out the childhood romance you’ve always dreamed of, until death do you part.

The next few of weeks passed in a blur, and you have basically settled into Juyeon’s apartment – going back and forth to your house to pick up your things and put them in his closets. Your shoes sits nicely in the new shoe rack he bought for you to go out together, and your toothbrush sits proudly next to Juyeon’s. You even have matching ones. Oh, and Juyeon can finally happily say that you’ve got your side of the bed, with your cute belongings on the bedside table and a picture of the two of you at 16 in a frame.

In fact, you slowly become a domestic couple-like going grocery shopping together and going on so-called dates. Life with Juyeon is easy. Whether you go out at dawn or dusk, he’s always with you, matching your pace and holding your hand from the streetlights to the dancing starlight. When you saw your hands touching and your steps overlapping, it reminds you of your first encounter and the fluttering of your heart. How you shyly looked at him, only to see him already looking at you lovingly, red on his cheeks. That cold winter you spent together was actually the warmest moment of Juyeon’s life, and that day might have been the day you hid a present for each other in your sleeve.

Even more slowly, your relationship with Juyeon develops as the months go by. It was hard not for it to blossom, considering the fact that you live together and that you absolutely do everything together, but it’s happening. Juyeon has started to walk around bare chest when he gets out of the shower and sometimes! He even goes to bed naked, with just his pyjama pants hanging low on his hips.

Of course, you get to snuggle up against his warm chest and cuddle to sleep. When it comes to sleeping, you don’t even try to fall asleep on your own side of the bed anymore because you always wake up in each other’s arms. You have definitely grown closer and closer in just a few months.

Your touches with one another have become more sensual and romantic and your words more flirtatious. You wear his clothes more often than usual, sometimes getting out of bed in just his t-shirt and underwear, awakening certain feelings within him. From time to time, he dares to put his hands under your (his) t-shirt and kiss your forehead tenderly, for lack of being able to kiss your lips sensually and make you his, right when you wake up.

“All pretty for me hm?” He said the first time you went to sleep in this garment. “You know I’m just a man.”

And if you sat on his hips to cuddle him afterwards, maybe the message got through. Maybe a little too much, given that a few minutes later he pretended to be in a hurry and the water ran for a long time. He’s just a man.

Yes, your man.

Another time, when you were out shopping at the mall, people addressed you as a couple and you didn’t mind, oh no. Perhaps it was the smiley eye contact you made, or the way he held you in his arms and you leaned into him, almost as if you were going to kiss, that gave it away. At least, that’s what gave Sunwoo, who was watching you nearby, the courage to send you a message.

Woo ☼ (1)

Hi, hello! I saw you at the mall with Juyeon, can we talk? I’m with Changmin, we can ditch them together?

Hi Sunny!!! Sure we can, the cafe nearby?

Juyeon was a little reluctant to leave you alone with Sunwoo due to the countless nights you spent crying and the difficulty you had opening up (not to mention your blossoming love for Juyeon) but he quickly gave up because he knew you wanted it and he was happy to spend time with Changmin. Juyeon is the love of your life and you can’t pretend that he isn’t anymore.

“Hi Sweetheart, I saw you left your shopping bags with your man,” he laughs and you kick him under the table so as not to draw attention to yourself.

“Stop that Kim Sunwoo!” You whine.

“Stop what? Calling you sweetheart or calling him your man?”

“Both!” You laugh embarrassed and shy.

“How are you?” He changes the subject after one last laugh and you’re happy to see that he hasn’t changed, he’s still as playful and lively as ever.

“I’m fine, nothing has really changed since our last messages. I told you I got my dream job, so Juyeon and I are treating ourselves with my first salary. Oh, and Juyeon has also found a new job he’s really enjoying. Hence, the reason why we’re out shopping.” You went on to rave about your everyday life, happy to share this new chapter with him, whom you still love very much, just not romantically anymore.

“You must love him a lot,” he says softly, almost as if he were muttering to himself. “It’s cute, you’re cute, I’m happy for you.” And you don’t answer, curious to hear what he’s going to say next.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot over the past six months,” he begins. “Thank you for always reaching out to me and not ghosting me despite the break-up, it meant a lot to me. Being away from you has been hard. I will not lie. But it also taught me that I was too dependent on you and it felt great to spend time by myself and with our friends. I got news from them and saw that you were doing well, as anyone going through a break-up would be. And it made me realise that, if you were fine, I should be fine, even if it was just a facade, that somehow the sadness would pass.”

You nod to let him know you’re listening and that you’re on the same wavelength as him.

“And it did,” he whispers almost happily, as if the weight he was carrying close to his heart has been lifted. “I thought I would love you for the rest of my life, but then I met someone.” You gasp at his words and tear up a little.

“It came as a blessing, without me even looking for it, and I can say that I’m happy now. So when I saw you so happy on Juyeon’s arm, looking at him lovingly like he hung the stars in the sky I thought: “Ah, you’re really on cloud nine with him”. I shouldn’t hold you back from your happiness. You have my blessing, not that you need it but date him, kiss him, make love and live happily ever after.” To emphasise his words, he squeezes your hand which he has started to hold somewhere in his monologue, and kisses it.

You swear you didn’t want to cry, and Juyeon will probably be worried to see your swollen eyes, but how can you remain impassive in the face of so much love? It’s true, you held back and would have kissed Juyeon if it wasn’t for Sunwoo. But now you’ll both be happy.

You chatted for quite a while, enjoying your reunion as friends, learning more about the person he had met and ranting about your life with Juyeon, when he appeared before you with Changmin, impatient to get you back. You missed him. How did you manage to live without Juyeon so far? Ecstatic, you jump into his arms and bid your goodbyes promising to meet again soon. As you walk away, Juyeon’s phone beeps and he just shrugs at the message in his inbox with a smile. Then he ruffles your hair, earning a pout from you that he kisses away at the corner of your lips. You wonder what the message was, but the kiss is definitely more important.

Sunwoo (1)

I’ve seen the way you look at each other, it’s full of love. Give it a shot!

Yes, there will be many more kisses now.

And here you are today, on Juyeon’s couch, enjoying your home date for the tenth anniversary of your friendship, with Sunwoo’s blessing in the back of your mind. You spent the day cooking together, sweet and savoury, having fun with the shapes of the cakes and pizzas (hearts and dicks like the children you are), playing games, dancing and listening to music in a good-natured atmosphere.

Today’s a day to celebrate your friendship. Yes friendship, when all you want to do is kiss him senseless. Maybe confessing today is not such a bad idea. Especially when you see him coming out of the shower in all his glory, beads of water running down his naked torso, hair tousled and wet, tongue running over his lips sensuously as he looks you straight in the eye, ready to pounce on you. Oh, and, his cinnamoroll pyjama pants, low on his hips and revealing the Apollo belt of his abs, make you smile as much as it turns you on.

Juyeon takes his place between your legs, smiling, his hot muscular back resting on your chest as he lays his head back on your shoulder, dampening your matching melody pyjamas. He chuckles as he turns his head to see you gawping. His big veiny hand that had been squeezing your thigh flies to your cheek, turning your flushed face towards him so he can kiss the pout at the corner of your lips. His beautiful lips linger a little longer on your neck, but you welcome his touch with open arms and lean into his embrace.

His eyes are full of stars when he rises from your embrace to grab the remote and turn on your series. But he remains seated between your legs, unconsciously resting a hand on your knee to preserve the intimacy you’re so immersed in. You help him on with his t-shirt, not without kissing his shoulder first, making him shiver. And your hands take the opportunity to wander down his torso to his waist, making him smirk as well. You become more and more adventurous, he loves it and can’t wait to run his lips all over your body, discovering all of it.

You place a kiss on the crown on his hair and when you notice that it’s already dry, an idea crosses your mind. Juyeon’s focus is back on the show, so much so that he can barely feel your hands playing with his hair. You give him a rather pleasant massage, moving down to the small of his chest, across his neck and up into his hair, twisting it between your fingers.

“How does it feel?” You murmured in a hushed tone.

“Heavenly,” he moans.

The tension is palpable as you continue your services, your hearts beating wildly, almost as one. He takes one of your hands in his to kiss it, the attention making you blush, before replacing it in his hair and nodding for you to continue. So you undertake one of the most romantic acts of love in your eyes, braiding his hair. Strand by strand, your fingers caress the edges of his face. The braids come undone as quickly as they are made, but he smiles broadly as he touches them, feeling butterflies in his stomach and his heart beating erratically.

“I could see our everyday life like this,” you whisper in his ear. “Together.”

Juyeon, who had been purring at your display of affection, becomes still when he hears your words. He slowly turns to face you with the most charming smile and tenderly takes your hand to place it on his chest, where his heart burns with love. The fire in his eyes burns inexorably, lighting up his already sunny face, unable to leave him. You’re captivated by this intensity and he doesn’t look away, also in love with your sparkling eyes, even when he reaches out to grab a little box that has always been right in front of your eyes. Yes, his love has always been on display. You were just too slow to catch on.

But you get it now. You’re two fools in love.

“You know how our youth is filled with each other’s names?” He says, voice a little hoarse and heart beating fast under your palm. “Well, my heart has never changed, I’ve always wanted to be with you. You are my breath of fresh air, the warmth that keeps me going through the winter, and the words I’m about to tell you will never melt away. My everything is all about you, it has always been about you.” He pauses to take a deep breath and kisses the palm of your hand, which he then links with his own, intertwining your fingers.

“I love you,” he sighs with love and happiness. “I love you so much that I was reading my destiny inside your eyes without even knowing it.” The flame of love he has carried all these years dances in his eyes, making him irresistible and captivating. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you wait for his question, palpitations he feels through your bound hands.

“Would you be mine?” His gaze, dropping to your lips then back to your eyes, is determined as he opens the velvet box to reveal two rings. Not just any rings, the matching promise rings to the bracelets you bought months ago. The ones on your wrists that you’ve never taken off.

As if on cue, as a sign of future commitment, he kisses your left ring finger and places the ring on your right with such tenderness that you almost cry. No, you’re pretty sure tears are rolling down your face because he puts his thumb under your eyes to gently wipe away the tears and kisses the salty drops that have run down your cheeks, close to your lips. With that, you mirror his actions by kissing the ring, his left ring finger and placing it on his right finger with a dazzling smile, as an unspeakable promise – that you’ll spend the rest of your lives together.

“I have always been yours. I love you Juyeon, so much that I’m going crazy.”

Even now, after confessing his feelings and hearing yours, he remains respectful and lets you make the first move with a victorious smile. You grin, feeling the cool material of the ring on your cheek as he cups your face in his hand, reminding you that this is all real and that he loves you.

And he does.

So you finally lean in, closing the gap between you to rest your lips on his. It was meant to be a soft and quick peck, but he captures your body and deepens the kiss, years of longing and wanting not to be wasted, leaving you breathless. His lips search yours every time you pull away, not wanting to let go, intoxicated by your lips and this new closeness. If you spend the rest of the evening making out and exploring each other, no one will say a word. Not even your neighbours.

Ah, you’ve never been in love and wanted to be with anyone as much as you do with him, and this since you were 16.

[renjunphile]

we'll always have summer ☀︎ lee juyeon

₊ ⊹☼ WORD COUNT: 18.0k ₊ ⊹☼ PAIRING: the boyz' lee juyeon x female reader ₊ ⊹☼ TAGS & WARNINGS: summer vacation!au, teeth-rotting fluff, no angst whatsoever nada, juyo having a crush, reader is a bit shy at first, no plot just y/nyeon hanging out and pining for each other, dialogue heavy, a scene making out and some kisses here and there, canadaz instigating together

₊ ⊹☼ SYNOPSIS: during your post-college-graduation crisis, you meet lee juyeon during a 3 week lake house vacation with your mutual friends. serendipity watches over you as you get entangled into a whirlwind summer romance.

₊ ⊹☼ NOTES: hyung line are all the same age in this as each other, 98 line as each other and maknae line as each other! idk how i wrote 18k words of juyeon pathetically crushing on y/n but here it is! also the female ocs in this fic have no relation to any idol irl or at least was not written with anyone in mind :-) this also feels like the wrong time to post a tbz fic but i'm desperate to get this out and i'm hoping and praying that the boyz can resolve their negotiations with ist and find a good home in their new label <3

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Whoever said that university was supposed to be the best 4 years of your life didn't think about the implications of that phrase on deeply lost and terrified new grads. Sure, it was intended as an encouragement to try and enjoy your college years while you were in them, but now you're on the other side and all you can feel is... now what?

In hindsight, there was a reason that seniors spent practically the whole year panicking about what came next and applying to every internship, grad role and job listing that popped up, no matter how relevant. You too had participated to some degree but to no avail as you stand here with no employment or future education plans in mind.

Okay, so maybe going on a 3 week holiday as soon as you come out of graduation wasn't the best idea you've ever had, but technically, it wasn't even your idea. In fact, you had even rejected Kevin's invitation multiple times citing your need to job hunt in the city immediately, but he kept pestering and pestering and pestering that you eventually had to give in. The universe will reward you for at least trying to resist, right?

There were really many reasons to not go on this trip. The main one being that Kevin was the only person out of about 15 people you knew that were coming on this trip. You had met a few of his friends fleetingly before, but never long enough or often enough to form a proper friendship or relationship with them as you did with your junior year project partner turned friend. Another reason was that you were so painfully introverted and shy that meeting all these new people all at once with nowhere to run to or hide seemed like the perfect recipe for disaster. What were you going to do if it all went wrong?

Still, Kevin had managed to address all your worries and reassured you that his friends were very welcoming and aware not to overwhelm you too much.

"Remember Y/N, we're here to relax, have a good time and forget the worries of the real world," Kevin lectured you as the two of you entered the lake house together. He had been the one to organise this trip as he found the cabin slash mansion and then roped all of his friends into joining.

Chanhee and Changmin had slept the entire ride, so Kevin allocated them the job of hauling everything from the car into the house. The people pleaser in you was desperate to help, but Kevin maintained that staying up and entertaining him on the long drive up was enough and that the two boys deserved it for being so called lazy.

"There's 5 bedrooms, all with two double beds," Kevin recalled as he scoured the house, "We take the biggest room with the en-suite."

"We can sleep 20 people? Why didn't you invite more?" you plopped your bags onto the large sectional couch.

Kevin just shrugged and stepped away to investigate the documents on a table, "So we could have a bit more space. Plus, we didn't want to invite anyone else."

"Aw i'm honoured to have made the cut, Kev," you teased by nudging him on the shoulder.

He shot you an unimpressed glare, "Clearly not considering that you literally refused to come until two weeks ago."

"I'm here, aren't I?" you countered, running to the front door to hold it open as you saw the other two boys approaching with the miscellaneous things your group was assigned to pack. It mostly involved some activities like a karaoke machine, some boards and floaties for swimming and other things to keep you entertained.

Another group set to arrive later was assigned the food supplies, while the girls that were coming on the trip were in charge of drinks.

"How far away are the others?" Chanhee smiled at you appreciatively as you make their life a little easier. He set two bags down on the floor. Changmin hobbles behind him with overflowing arms, clearly not wanting to make more trips than necessary.

Kevin pulled out his phone and hummed as he checked on the drivers' locations, "Jacob's car is like only a few minutes behind. Sangyeon's car is like an hour behind and the girls won't be here for a couple of hours since Minseo had to do a morning shift at work so they left a bit late."

"Who's in Jacob's car?" you asked curiously, wondering who you were going to meet first. You'd met Jacob a few times before when you were a junior and he was always very nice to you despite not having spent an extended period of time together. However, you hadn't seen him in almost a year! Obviously you had been acquainted with Chanhee and Changmin now, but you'd only met them once before they climbed into Kevin's car for the long journey that they dozed through.

"I think Hak, Eric and Juyeon are with Jacob and Sunwoo, Younghoon and Hyunjae are with Sangyeon," Changmin listed off quickly, "Prepare yourself to meet Eric, seriously."

"Hopefully he's sleepy from the drive," Chanhee rolled his eyes playfully but fondly at the thought of their youngest friend.

While this was a graduation trip for the boys in your car and a few of the others, Kevin had still invited their friends of different ages. It was a nice way to escape the reality of adult life for those who had graduated the year before you and just a fun trip for the incoming seniors below you.

You've heard from Kevin that his friends had a vast range of personalities, which you expected considering there were 11 of them. The concept of opposites attract definitely applied to friendships too, which was how Kevin's bubbly and social self found you, a raging introvert.

By the time that Jacob's car roared into the pebble driveway, you had already unpacked your clothes in the closet that you were sharing with Jacob and Kevin- the only ones you knew and felt comfortable with. Kevin had decided to just throw his duffle onto the foot of the bed and will probably just dig out some outfits each day from the floor.

You heard commotion begin to rumble downstairs through your ajar door and fought an internal conflict whether to go down and make yourself known or have Kevin come and get you. By the end of it, they had made that decision for you when you hear multiple footsteps stomp up the creaky stairs.

"Y/N, how are you? It's good to see you again!" Jacob flashed you his signature sweet smile as he tapped on the door and opened it wider, "Can we come in?"

"Sure, it's your room too! It's also good to see you, Jacob," you replied, getting up from the edge of the bed where you were rummaging through your backpack.

"You must be the famous Y/N," someone with a boyish smile peeked from behind Jacob, "I'm Eric! Nice to finally meet you."

"Ah, I've heard lots about you!" you gave him a small but enthusiastic wave.

"And knowing Kevin, it was probably not nice things," Eric scoffed as he shot a glare over his shoulder in the direction of the staircase behind him. That was when both he and you noticed a tall boy lingering behind him.

Eric wrapped an arm around his shoulders and brought him forward, "And this is Juyeon-hyung."

Through his sleepy, lid-heavy eyes, Juyeon gave you a soft smile, "Hi, it's nice to meet you."

"Juyeon," you let the word ruminate in your mouth as to why his name sounded familiar until it comes to you, "Ah, you're one of the others who graduated, right?"

He nodded, letting his face relax into a small smile, "Yeah."

"Congratulations to you," you tell him.

"You too, Y/N," there's a softness to Juyeon's voice- a kind of kindness and sincerity that comes naturally. Whereas Eric's voice was immediately enthusiastic and upbeat, Juyeon was calmer and more demure.

Eric disappeared behind Juyeon and Jacob was unzipping his bag behind you on the bed he was sharing with Kevin. You point awkwardly to the bag that Juyeon was clutching in his hands, "Which room are you staying in?"

As if he just remembered he was carrying it, Juyeon's eyes snapped to his hold before he let out a soft 'ah!', "I'm rooming with Chanhee and Changmin. Do you know which room that is?"

If you recalled correctly, you did, "I think it's that one," you point to the door immediately behind him, just opposite of your room.

Juyeon gives you an appreciative nod and pushes the handle of his room open with his elbow, "Thanks Y/N. See you later."

"Bye Juyeon."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Over the rest of the first day, you settled yourself on the living room couch with Kevin playing a variety of card games and planning what you wanted to do on the trip while doing so. The others dipped in and out- Jacob joining when he finished unpacking and Changmin once he got tired of Chanhee beating him at table tennis outside.

Eric was stretched out on one of the other couches, soft snores coming out of his mouth after the drive exhausted him (and also the other passengers who he was 'entertaining'). You don't know where Juyeon disappeared to, but it was probably to replace Changmin as Chanhee's opponent.

The game of dobble was getting heated with Jacob's rare frustrated side coming out, as was teased by the other players. So far, Changmin had won the most games, but that was probably because he was the most willing to scream and snatch the card away. You, on the other hand, had miserably lost every single round.

But at least you were able to plan your meals over the game of snakes and ladders you played earlier.

Once Sangyeon's car arrived and you acquainted yourself with him, Younghoon and Sunwoo, you excused yourself from the game under the guise of being a very bad loser, which you were.

You hadn't checked out the back garden and it's various facilities yet, so you were intrigued considering that was one of the main reasons that Kevin booked this place.

"Hi Y/N, do you wanna play?" Chanhee waved to you as soon as he spotted you in between serves. Juyeon followed suit.

"Nah, I'll watch for now- I just wanted to check out the yard!" you gestured to the area.

You immediately noticed the large blue swimming pool that dominated most of the garden. There were lounge chairs and umbrellas strewn around it and a little enclosure with pool floats provided. There was a fire pit with outdoor chairs in the back corner and then a stretch of grass that was perfect for net games like foot volleyball or badminton. Chanhee and Juyeon were occupying the ping pong table, but you were also standing next to a pool table in the covered patio.

The lake you were staying at was located a short walk down some steps from the front of the house, so you could only see some hills and other houses from the back. It was definitely a nice atmosphere combined with the warm weather you were having and not a bad place to spend 3 weeks procrastinating your life.

You took a seat on the cushioned furniture under the patio, covering your eyes from the sun to watch the boys play. It seemed that Juyeon was overall better than Chanhee, but Chanhee could catch him out with fast balls and spinning balls.

It was entertaining to watch them for a while, your eyes moving either side to follow the ball. They were getting competitive with each other, bringing out their vicious sides, which was amusing to watch. Juyeon seemed like a collected person when you first met him, but like everyone else, he had a different side to him in situations so tense.

"I wanna play," you heard a voice ring behind you, "Let's play pairs?"

Sunwoo appeared from the woodwork and approached the table. Chanhee and Juyeon paused their game, claiming Juyeon as the winner before agreeing to the game.

"Y/N, play with us? Who do you wanna pair up with?"

"I'm not any good at ping pong, so whoever is unfortunate enough to have me then," you got up from your comfy position and stretched out.

"Hm, Sunwoo's not bad so Sunwoo can go with me and you can go with Juyeon since he won," Chanhee reasoned, bringing up the extra paddles from the ground.

You migrated to Juyeon's side, giving him a sheepish look, "I'm sorry, but we're going to lose."

Juyeon chuckled and shook his head, "You have to believe in yourself, Y/N. Here, watch me serve and then you can serve the first ball."

He positioned himself with his body open to you so you could see what he was doing. Juyeon carefully explained what he was going to do and demonstrated the serve. Sunwoo threw the ball back and it rolled over to you.

"You can do it," Juyeon encouraged as you readied your stance.

Taking a deep breath and not wanting to disappoint your partner, you mimicked his movements and jumped in elation when it went exactly where it should have gone. Juyeon cheered beside you, which quickly faded as Chanhee returned the ball to your side, only for it to bounce twice and then land at your feet.

Juyeon was giggling as you looked at him apologetically, "The serve was good, but now we have to work on your return."

"How about I serve and then you just return all of the balls while I stand behind you?" you countered teasingly, "This isn't much of a competition for them."

"Y/N, by the end of this trip, you're going to be a ping pong goddess," Juyeon said firmly, holding up the ball to you again.

Over the next while, you started improving with your skills with tips that the other boys showed you. Juyeon did end up having to carry your team, but you had some good moments too. You didn't expect to be so open to play with the guys, but if Kevin's friends were anything like Kevin, you should have known you would have got along great.

Eventually, some more of the boys decided to come out and play while they started preparing lunch inside with the ingredients they had brought, so you retreated back inside to join Kevin.

"Your friends are nice," you told him sincerely at the kitchen island as you watched Younghoon and Changmin open up endless packets of ramen.

"I told you they were," Kevin agreed.

You had known Kevin for a year and a half, first meeting him at the start of the second semester of junior year. While he had tried to get you to meet his friends multiple times, it just never worked out properly with your schedules all the way up to college graduation. You did want to meet them properly instead of fleeting introductions and goodbyes in the hallways or around campus, but it wasn't your fault that your timetable was absolutely rammed and you were too anti-social to attend any evening events.

However, he had told you enough stories about his friends that it really felt like you did actually know them. That's why meeting them for the first time was weird- you knew lots of things about each of them.

"I don't think me and Chanhee would have ever worked out though," you frowned as you remembered Kevin trying to get you to go on a blind date with him when you first met and got comfortable with each other.

"I see that now," Kevin huffed at his failed matchmaking, "You're both divas- hey!"

You held back a laugh as Kevin's stumbled on his stool from you pushing him, "Don't spread false rumours about me around your friends! They could get the wrong idea!"

"Honey, it's a fact," Kevin snorted, "Once they get to know you better, they'll see what I mean."

Your personality slowly but surely crept out the longer you knew someone, but you weren't sure that 3 weeks was enough time. Then again, it was 3 weeks of constantly seeing them and being forced to spend time with each other, all while doing activities that might just end up testing your will.

"How about Changmin, though?" Kevin tried to whisper lowly.

Said boy whipped his head around and gave Kevin a pointed look, "I'm right here, you know?"

"So? Anybody who I set up with Y/N would be lucky to have her," Kevin jeered to his friend.

From behind you, you hear a deep voice, "Who's being set up with Y/N?"

Juyeon takes the stool beside you, an orange manifesting in his hands that he began to peel. A small smirk flashed on Kevin's face that you did not miss, but Kevin leaned forward and placed his chin and his hand, "Why, are you interested?"

You shoved Kevin again, "You are so annoying. I'm sorry about him Juyeon."

"I'm used to it," Juyeon shrugged casually as he offered up a slice yo you, "Orange?"

You quickly refused and thanked him and he carried on eating the fruit beside you. He must have got bored of the game or wanted to supervise the lunch. You vaguely remember Kevin telling you that Juyeon was one of the better cooks in the group.

After a while of silently supervising the ramen station, the doorbell sounded through the house. Kevin raced to open the door and welcome the girls in.

You had never met them before as they were some of Chanhee and Changmin's friends, but Kevin reassured you that they were very nice girls that you probably would get along with. It's not even that you didn't have many friends of your own- Kevin was just the first to ask you to come on a trip and all of your friends were diving straight into their big-girl jobs.

"I'm guessing you're Y/N? I'm Minseo," a girl with short, cropped hair approached you cheerfully, "Stick with us whenever you get tired of these boys. They get old pretty quick."

Younghoon scoffed as he walked past with the big pot of ramen in his gloved hands to bring to the table, "You three are way more chaotic than us."

"Don't believe him," another one of the girls came over with a backpack that was making a clinking sound, "I'm Suyeon! And I have some of the drinks and Jiwon has the rest."

Suyeon has copper-red hair and piercing eyes, while Jiwon has mousy brown hair and tattoos on her exposed arms. They definitely have dancer builds, so you imagine that they first met Changmin through dance.

The boys take their turns saying their greetings to the girls and Juyeon calls in everybody outside as lunch was ready. Other than the ramen, Younghoon and Changmin had managed to whip up some side dishes from what they brought, so it wasn't a totally helpless lunch.

The table was just a large slab of polished wood on some legs with long benches around each side. It was a little bit of a squeeze to get all 15 of you around the table, but it wasn't totally horrible once everyone settled and stopped squirming.

You had Kevin to your right and Jacob to your left with Eric directly in front of you. The table was too broad, however, to be able to make meaningful conversations with those in front of you without shouting.

"Is there any activities you want to do, Y/N?" Jacob asked you.

You tried to recall the array of activities you saw outside when you pulled up to the house, "I want to row a boat out on the lake. I'm kind of scared of stuff like that. What about you?"

Jacob shrugged, "Nothing particular. I just want to relax after a full year working."

"How has that been anyway?"

He sighed defeatedly, "It's nice making money, but I definitely miss college. Don't let me scare you though."

"I'm terrified enough as it is, considering I don't have a job lined up," you tried to make it sound like it wasn't weighing you down, but Jacob seny you a sympathetic half-smile.

"Loads of people are in the same boat, Y/N. Don't worry about it, honestly. There's always something waiting for you," Jacob advised you softly, "Promise you'll try to enjoy this vacation before worrying about real life?"

"You sound like Kevin, Jacob," you stifled a chuckle, "I will try, I promise.

Your conversation with Jacob is cut short by Eric yelling at the elder to pass the water with his mouth full, followed by him being scolded by the others.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You don't even know what time it is when you wake up the next morning. It's well into summer so the sky is already bright and gives you no indication by the colour and you find that your phone is dead when you tried to check. Remembering that you brought your charger down after dinner while you all watched a movie in the lounge, you groaned at the thought of having to get up so early.

Soft snores were still escaping from Jacob and Kevin's bed, so you tiptoed out of the room, all while trying to brush through your tangled hair with your fingers. The house was so quiet that you definitely did not expect to see someone's back leaning over the kitchen counter while they sat on a stool.

At your footsteps, the mystery figure turned around with a surprised sound.

"Oh, Y/N. Good morning," Juyeon's voice was deep and still raspy this early, "What are you doing up?"

He was wiping his eyes with his fists bawled up and you resisted the urge to 'awh' at him as you fetched your charger from nearby, "I left this here last night and my phone died. I don't know what time it is, but why are you up so early?"

Juyeon shrugged, "I sometimes wake up early and I couldn't go back to sleep. I was going to make a coffee if you want one too?"

In your head, you weighed up the pros and cons of an early morning beverage. Something in you was screaming to go back into your bed and doze off the rest of the morning- something that will be robbed from you when you reach the real world- but at the same time, Juyeon was looking at you with his sleepy, cat-like eyes and red cheeks.

"Sure," you slid onto the stool beside his as he hopped off and made his way around to the kitchen side. There was only the whistling of the kettle for a while as Juyeon collated all the ingredients he needed and found the mugs in the cupboard. He only broke the silence to ask you if you took milk and sugar in your coffee.

You had zoned out so much that you didn't snap back into reality until he was sliding your coffee over to you and placing a plate full of French pastries between you as he took a seat. Gratefully, you pinched the croissant to curve your morning hunger.

"How did you find yesterday?" Juyeon began as he sipped on his drink.

"It was nice meeting everyone. I think I knew everyone's names anyway from Kevin talking about you all before and from his posts," you told him, "I'm still feeling shy, but it will just take time for me to get comfortable."

"I was the same when I first met everyone," Juyeon nodded, "We all came at different times since we're different ages, but I also get shy meeting new people, so I know how you feel. I'm glad that Kevin managed to convince you to come, though."

Your surprised look doesn't faze him, "Ah, really?"

Juyeon looked slightly more awake after a few sips of coffee as he smiles gently at you, "It's always nice to make a friend."

"Yeah," you agreed. Juyeon had a certain way of speaking that was just so comforting and he was quickly becoming one of Kevin's friends that you could see yourself being close to.

"Are you staying in the city after this?" he moved on casually.

Ah, the famous question. Your grimace told him everything he needed to know as you scrunched up your face, "I would like to, but that's T-B-D. It's gonna be stressful looking for a job after I get back from the trip- that's why I didn't want to come in the first place. But whatever. What about you?"

"I'm gonna be a dance teacher at a local studio," Juyeon told you, pride sparkling through the statement, "I'm excited about it, but my dream is to have my own studio one day, have a crew and work with some famous people."

You suddenly remembered something Kevin had told you once, "Ah, you majored in dance with Changmin, right?"

Juyeon nodded.

"Kevin took me to one of your showcases once this year, but I had to run out before I could meet you guys after," you recalled fondly, "You had a duet with Changmin and I remember being very, very impressed. I can't dance, so..."

He looks at you in surprise as you remembered it, "Oh, thank you for coming! And I really appreciate that. I'm going to miss those showcases, actually. They were always stressful leading up to them, but when I get to perform, it's the best feeling ever."

The lilt in his voice told you just how passionate he was when it came to dance. You wished that you had something you treasured dearly too, but you tried to remember Jacob's words from dinner- something will always be waiting for you.

"I'm gonna have to see you guys dance again at some point," you smiled, "I know Kevin said a lot of you guys do."

"What has Kevin told you about me?" Juyeon placed his chin on his palm, body leaning over towards you.

You paused for a minute, trying to recall all the facts you knew about Kevin's friend and trying to pick out the ones related to him, "He said you're the best cook in the group and that the world moves too fast for you. He said that you like nature too."

"Too? You do as well?" he asked curiously, "They say I'm slow, which they may be right."

"Yeah! I like taking walks and seeing the world," you affirmed, "I've never been to this part of the country, so I'm intrigued by the area. It looks so beautiful from what I saw on the drive up."

"We should definitely take walks together!" Juyeon suggested enthusiastically, "I don't know how many of the others will join, but it'll be fun."

Before you could agree with him despite how shy he was making you feel, Changmin's sleepy voice boomed out behind you, "Morning guys."

"Did we wake you up?" you asked him in concern.

Changmin shook his bed hair firmly, "Nope. Chanhee rolled over and started cuddling me."

"So you left him?" you teased.

"It got too warm," Changmin whined as he noticed your small breakfast spread, "Can I get a coffee too?"

"Hah, make it yourself," Juyeon huffed as he pointed out where the supplies were kept, "Did you know Y/N attended our showcase a few months ago? The one where we had the duet?"

Changmin laid out the items on the other side of the island and thought for a second before a eureka moment came to him, "Was that the one you had to leave early cause you had a date?"

You groaned at the thought, flopping your head in your hands on the table, "Oh, don't remind me! I can't believe Kevin told you."

Juyeon looked between the two of you, confusion splattered on his face, "Why, what happened?"

You shivered in your seat, "He was a dickhead. It was a blind date with one of my friends' boyfriend's frat brothers and it was so bad I had to actually tell him I wanted to leave."

"Oh, that bad?" Juyeon grimaced.

"He shamed me for ordering a proper meal, insinuated many, many times how he wanted to come over to my place after, picked up a call from one of his friends in the middle of it and then made me pay the whole bill when I said I wanted to leave and offered to split," you recounted, slightly more amused looking back on it now.

"That's really horrible, Y/N," Changmin offered as he stirred his drink.

"I'm used to bad dates now," you sighed in defeat, "I've never had any luck."

Juyeon made a noise of recognition from your side, "Have you gone on a lot of dates?"

"Mhm, my friends all found their partners pretty early on in college. I guess they just wanted me to have the same magical experience as them, so they'd always set me up on dates," you recalled your dating life through the past 4 years, "Actually, I went on a date with Jacob accidentally without knowing he was Kevin's friend before he graduated."

Changmin's eyes widened as he laughed in realisation and slapped the countertop, "I forgot that happened! That's so funny."

Juyeon pouted beside you, "Am I the only one that's never heard of any of this?"

"Maybe it's cause you holed yourself up the last two years in the practice room," Changmin replied sassily.

"Says you!" Juyeon turned to you, "How did your date with Cobie-hyung go?"

"I thought he was really sweet, but we decided not to go on a second date because he was graduating soon," you answered honestly, "He only did it as a favour to my friend when they worked on a project together."

"Oh, so you liked him?" Juyeon pressed on.

Your face reddened as you vehemently shook your head, "It's not like that! We just went on one date, that's all."

"Stop teasing poor Y/N," Changmin frowned from the other side, "It's like coming up to 8 now, so we should start making a proper breakfast for everyone."

You hadn't exactly established how you were going to do the cooking rota, but since you three were already down there, it wasn't a bad idea to get started. Juyeon agreed, hopping off the stool and rummaging the fridge for what they brought.

A grocery trip was definitely due with everyone, but for now, Juyeon's car had lugged along some ingredients from their college apartments that could be utilised.

"Can I be of any help?" you asked into the air as you watched Changmin check what was in each cupboard.

"Are you good at cooking, Y/N?" Juyeon quirked an eyebrow at you. You gave him an unsure look, to which he laughed and handed you a carton of eggs, "I guess I have a lot to teach you during this vacation, Y/N-ah."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

You've always preferred the sunset to the sunrise. Maybe it's because you've seen far more sunsets in your lifetime, due to your previous displeasure of waking up early. Over the last few months with finals, though, you've gotten used to being up at the time the sun peaked through the horizon, even if it was because you hadn't slept yet.

The moment that Minseo noticed the first shades of pinks in the sky, she dragged the whole group out to the waterfront and you all were sprawled out on the ground, watching as the sun dipped down. There hasn't been a good sunset in the four days that you've been here, so you were excited for the first one with the group.

You were even almost confident enough to call them friends as you spent the past four days getting to know them through lunches and dinners, boardgames and pingpong and cooking and cleaning. They were all great people with impeccable sense of humour- you were glad to have come to the trip.

You perched Hyunjae's digital camera on your tucked knees as you examined the way the sky was transforming. Beside you, Kevin was sketching in his notebook.

It was getting late, nearing 8, and you had spent the whole day in the pool with everyone playing different games and lounging around. You all decided as a group that you would take the first week easy- no plans, just relaxing. After that was when you would jump into activities outside of the lake house. You were on the winning team of pool volleyball today, but had lost every chicken fight on top of Kevin's shoulders.

After dinner, you were all drying up when Minseo called everyone out. The air was still warm, but less aggressive than the sun beating down on your skin earlier in the day. There was a mild breeze that cut through the heat, making it more bearable to be outside.

Chanhee was sat on your other side, humming a song as he scrolled on his phone, meanwhile in front of you on the small hill, Jiwon and Suyeon were playing uno with Younghoon and Juyeon. You snapped a picture of them with the camera entrusted to you, which they didn't even notice.

"Jiwon has a crush on Younghoon," Chanhee whispered in your ear. You jumped in your spot, clutching the camera tight to your chest.

"Jesus, Chanhee. You scared me!" you scolded the smirking boy.

"Oops," he patted your head in apology, "Isn't it obvious though?"

You turned your head back to the group to examine. Now that you knew that, you could put meaning to the way that Jiwon was leaning her body towards Younghoon's and the way she clung onto every word he said and everything he did.

"Does Younghoon know?" you hummed.

"I think so, or he's pretending to be dense," Chanhee murmured, "I think he was waiting for Jiwon to graduate, so maybe something will happen on the trip. They've been friends since high school, but the girls are on the dance team with us."

"That's cute," you noted, "What about the other girls?"

"Minseo and Sangyeon dated for a few months, but nothing ever came of it and they stayed as friends," Chanhee recalled in a dropped voice, leaning his lips up to your ear due to Sangyeon's proximity, "But they don't like it when we make jokes about it. Suyeon's never showed interest in anyone but Eric used to have a crush on her. Not anymore, though. In my opinion, proximity can make people think they feel things."

"What, like being around someone can trick you into liking them? Isn't that how crushes and relationships work?" you turned your body to face Chanhee.

He cocked his head in thought, "Maybe, but sometimes people develop crushes for the sake of having crushes instead of actually liking someone. Like some people feel compelled to date someone or like someone because everyone else expects them to because they're close."

"That's..." you trailed off, trying to find the right word to say, "Interesting."

Chanhee lets out a small giggle and turns back to his phone, "It's just something I've thought about after seeing so much friendship group incest."

When you swivel your head back to the lake and the sky beyond it, you find Juyeon staring at you with a perplexed look. When he noticed that you were looking back, he raised his arm in a small wave. You return one back to him, a little confused why he was looking. Suyeon nudged his arm, directing his attention back to the game in front of him.

"Have you ever thought about dating Kevin?" Chanhee asked after a moment of silence.

Kevin beside you perked up at the sound of his name, the scratching of his pencil ceasing. You met his eye and chuckled, "I think we always knew that we'd be better off as friends."

"She's not my type," Kevin dropped in as a dig. You nudged him when you made sure his pencil wasn't touching the paper.

"What's your type, Y/N?" Chanhee pressed on, "If you don't mind me asking."

You thought about his question carefully, trying to pick out what was actually important to you instead of what you would list off to your friends when they would find blind date suitors.

"I just want someone I can be comfortable with and not have to put on an act," you told him simply, "It'd be nice if they'd have some of the same interests as me, but I want someone I can find comfort in. Someone not too energetic and just someone who can treat a girl right. It's not a big ask."

"What, that's it?"

You nodded sheepishly, "To be honest, I just want to find someone naturally- to have them come to me. I've appreciated being set up on dates, but I don't want to look too hard anymore."

"What about giving Jacob another shot?" Kevin quizzed suddenly.

You release a small laugh, "I think that ship has sailed, Kev."

Jacob was a few metres away, strumming on his guitar surrounded by the rest of your friends. There was something so lovely about Jacob, but past that, you don't think you could see a relationship with him.

"Hmm, Hyunjae? He's very nice," Chanhee offered up, a teasing tone in his voice.

You rolled your eyes at your companions, "Did you two not hear anything I said? I want it to happen naturally."

You suddenly get distracted by someone ooh'ing and ahh'ing loudly. When you look up, you're instantly met by the most vibrant sky you've seen in a long time. The sky is painted in shades of cotton candy pink and vivid oranges. It was one of those bright, golden sunsets, devoid of any moody colours.

Snapping a few pictures on the camera of your friends and their silhouettes against the sky, you stood up for a better view. Through the lens, you find Jiwon and Younghoon standing together, shoulder to shoulder as they peered up. You were so preoccupied by their figures that you missed Juyeon standing up, brushing himself off and walking over to you.

"Y/N, can I have the camera?" Juyeon appeared beside you, making you jump slightly.

"Oh yeah, sure," you carefully placed the camera in his palm, not wanting to be reckless with something that wasn't yours.

Juyeon smiled appreciatively, taking one step back behind you and holding it up, "Okay, smile!"

Your eyes widened in surprise as you shook your head, "Don't get me in it! It won't turn out nice."

Trying to escape, you ducked to the side of him, but he caught onto your wrist and gently manoeuvred you back to your original place. Juyeon gave you a pointed look, "Trust me, okay? Just smile. Say cheese!"

Sensing that you wouldn't be able to get him to back down, you indulged his request and smiled softly at the camera. The digital device looked so tiny in his large hands compared to how they looked in yours that it was almost comical. He had to fumble a little to find the button, but when he clicked it finally, you broke your pose.

Juyeon looked down at the screen as you came closer to see for yourself. He turned it towards you with a triumphant smile on his handsome features, "See? So pretty."

He's probably talking about the sunset.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

On a morning you found yourself awake early again, you received a DM from one Lee Juyeon.

juyeon: i was about to go on a walk. care to join?

y/n: how did you know i was awake?

juyeon: i saw that you viewed my story i just uploaded :> will you come?

y/n: give me 10 minutes

When you tiptoed down the stairs at precisely 7:15AM, you found Juyeon squinting at you from the living room couch.

"Has anyone ever told you that you squint a lot?" you yawned out as you placed your shoes on the ground and slipped into them.

"I have terrible vision," Juyeon explained, "And before you ask, I don't have glasses because I cheated on my eye test."

You slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the laughs coming out, "How is that even possible?"

Juyeon rolled his eyes playfully, "Yeah, yeah. I know!"

He stood up from his place on the couch and followed you out of the front door. With one of the spare keys, he locked the door behind him and joined your side.

"Do you even know what I look like?" you teased him.

He made you stop on the gravel track, placing his hands on your shoulders. Teasingly, he squinted his eyes at you before relaxing onto the heel of his foot, "Of course I do. I would never forget a pretty face like yours."

Shocked at his flirty remarks, you pushed against his shoulder with your hand, "You're too much, Lee Juyeon."

His laugh is melodic as he tried to catch up with your fast pace, "You should learn how to take compliments, Y/N."

"Yeah, but you're teasing me," you humphed in response.

"Maybe, but it's still a factual compliment!" Juyeon argued. You were embarrassed to know that your whole face and ears were probably lit up like a tomato right now from his words.

Instead of replying, you chose to steer the conversation away, "Do you even know where we're going?"

Juyeon shook his head, "I just thought we could follow this trail around the lake. It's a nice morning."

The air was crispy- not too hot, not too cold. Everything was pretty still, other than the few people you could see having coffee on their front decks at the other houses surrounding the river. All you could hear, though, was the chirping of the birds in nests nestled in the trees and the soft crunching of rocks and grass under your shoes.

You hadn't managed to walk around the lake with the others yet in the week you've been there already. Time was moving so fast and there was still so much left to do. You were intrigued by the flora surrounding the lake, so you were trying to find free time to explore- thankfully, Juyeon beat you to it.

"Look at those flowers," you murmured after a few minutes of walking. There were tufts of pink flowers by the water edge that you crouched down to investigate further.

You heard the shutter of a camera faster than you could see Juyeon taking a picture of you on the ground.

"Hey!" you pouted up at him, swatting at his hand, "Let me see!"

"No can do," Juyeon replied smugly, "For my eyes only."

You brushed off your legs and stretched up next to him to continue walking, "That's not fair! I'm in the photo!"

"Later," Juyeon hummed innocently, walking forward a bit faster.

He continued leading you around the lake for a while, just chatting about trivial things you could see. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his cargo shorts, eyes shaded from the sun with his cap. At one point, you spotted a paddling of ducks near the edge, so you dragged Juyeon down to crouch beside you as you took pictures of them.

"Look how small that one is!" you cooed, pointing to what seemed like a baby duck that was following behind its mother closely.

"And look how cute they are when they tuck their necks in," Juyeon reciprocated as he found a flock further away that seemed to be sleeping or resting on the water.

"I used to have a stream behind my house when I was young, so I've always loved ducks," you waft a blade of long grass in the direction of the ducks, hoping they'd come to you.

"That seems like a nice childhood," you could hear the gentle smile in his gentle voice, "What was your childhood like?"

Your eyes followed the animals splashing about in the water, amused as two of them started chasing each other, "Nothing special. My parents had ordinary jobs and I have an older brother and a younger sister, so I was stuck in the middle. I grew up just outside of the city we went to college in, so I got to visit them often. My life's not very exciting. What about you?"

Juyeon humphed in disagreement, "I'm sure that's not true. There's always something special about the mundane. I grew up not far from the city too. I have a little brother who's 4 years younger and he's kind of in his teen-angsty phase right now, so I'm staying away physically. I call home pretty often, though."

"My sister just got out of hers," you laughed in solidarity. You finally decided to leave the ducks alone as they changed course away from you, "We get along much better now."

The sun was rising higher in the sky as you reached the halfway point around the lake. At this point, you had probably been out together for 45 minutes, but no one was noticing your absence yet.

"I can't believe they're not awake yet," you murmured as you checked your notifications.

"Nah, Changmin and Chanhee were awake and reading webtoons in bed," Juyeon informed you, "I told them we were going on a walk."

"You didn't invite them?"

"There's no getting those two out so early for no reason. That one morning with Changmin was a fluke," Juyeon uttered, "Besides, it's nice just us two, right?"

His words send the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy- he seems to have a way of doing that to you without even realising. You've spent a good amount of time with Juyeon on this trip, thinking that he was just taking you under his wing. Unfortunately for you, the man was drop dead gorgeous so it was hard not to feel giddy around him. Especially since he had such a way with words.

You have to remind yourself often that you were just friends. He treated everyone just like he treated you, right? Lee Juyeon was just a nice person.

"Right," you smile slightly, hiding your pink cheeks from him, but in turn getting blinded by the beams of light, "The sun's so bright."

Juyeon sighed beside you, "I should have told you to bring a hat."

You opened your mouth to reply, but you suddenly feel fabric encapsulating your head and the sun fade out behind the material of a cap- Juyeon's cap that he had taken off his own head and placed on yours.

"Oh, no, Juyeon. Keep the hat; the sun's gonna be in your eyes now," you moved to take it off, but he keeps his hand splayed on top of your head to prevent you from doing so.

"I'm taller than you, so the sun's hitting my face differently," he said to you sweetly.

You think he's lying, but if you've learned anything about Juyeon the past week, it's that he doesn't take no for an answer, "Thanks, Juyeon."

"You're welcome, Y/N-ie."

And if anybody noticed that you were wearing Juyeon's favourite cap when you arrived back to the house with a full spread of breakfast on the table, they certainly didn't say anything.

But when Jacob perched himself on the edge of your bed when you woke up from your post-breakfast nap, you knew you were in trouble from the mischievous yet apprehensive look on his face.

"What?" you groaned into the pillow that you smothered yourself with.

He waited for you to remove the pillow from your face before giving you a knowing look, "Kevin sent me."

"Why?"

"He's busy with Sunwoo and Hak," Jacob dismissed, "We want to know what's going on with you and Juyeon."

You sat up on the bed, looking at him incredulously, "What do you mean what's going on with me and Juyeon? Nothing."

Jacob frowned at what he thought was a blatant lie, "Don't think we haven't noticed you two have been spending a lot of time together recently. You two went out on a secret walk this morning alone."

"No one else was awake!" you protested, "None of you are morning people anyway!"

"You're not either, said Kevin," Jacob retorted.

"I'm trying to be," you huffed, "Besides, I've known the guy for one week. I'm not hiding a relationship from anyone."

"Yeah, but do you like him?" Jacob tacked on, "Kev wanted me to interrogate, so I am doing so."

"You're all so nosy," you murmured exasperatedly, "Juyeon is very nice; we're friends. Kevin would act this way no matter who I got close to."

"That might be true," Jacob nodded, "But I've never seen Juyeon act this way. He's normally pretty reserved when it comes to girls, but he's always approaching you first, looking out for you and considering you in things."

Your heart fluttered learning this new information about Juyeon, but you don't show it as you crossed your arms at Jacob with a disapproving glare, "Then take it up with Juyeon and not me."

"You know what'd be funny? To see if Juyeon will get jealous if anyone else gets close to you," Jacob tapped his chin in thought, "I've never, ever seen Juyeon jealous over a girl."

And as if the world was playing a hilarious, cruel prank on you, you heard Juyeon call your name as his feet padded up the stairs. He let out a sound of surprise when found your door ajar and Jacob sitting on your bed instead of his shared bed with Kevin.

Juyeon's eyes darted quickly between the two of you, with you still half-tucked under the sheets. His face kind-of hardened at the sight, but he quickly masked it with a half smile, "Hey, Y/N. I made you a smoothie to energise after our walk! Hi Cobie-hyung, what are you doing here?"

Jacob shot you a smug look, that you rolled your eyes subtly to, "I was just talking with Y/N. Is there something you need?"

Juyeon eyed him suspiciously, placing the cold glass on your side table. He didn't even reply when you thanked him, instead keeping an eye on Jacob, "Nah. Was it something private, though?"

"Hm, a bit," Jacob smirked. You were half a second away from shoving him off your bed for playing with Juyeon like this.

"Oh, okay. I'll go then. But we're about to go paddling in the lake so make sure you get ready soon," Juyeon backed down hesitantly and he turned his attention to you with a disarming smile, "You still have my hat, right, Y/N? Don't forget to bring that with you out. The sun's intense today."

As Juyeon left the room with the door wider than it was when he found it, Jacob rotated his body to you comically slow like he was in a movie.

"Shut it, Jacob."

He shook his head and released an angelic, teasing laugh, "That was next level, Y/N. I've never seen that man jealous let alone put on a territorial display!"

"Jacob!"

He put his hands up in surrender, "Fine, fine. I'm leaving too, but have a think, yeah? Don't want to let a guy as good as Juyo slip away."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

There were multiple boats scattered around the lake-side. There were 15 of you, so it wasn't an even split into pairs, but some of the boys were more confident to go by themselves.

As expected, Jiwon and Younghoon were pushed together to pair up and they strapped on life jackets first before clambering onto a rocky paddle boat at the end of a dock. Sangyeon and Hyunjae got their own boats, while Chanhee and Changmin shared one together. Minseo and Suyeon climbed on after, meanwhile Sunwoo and Haknyeon paired up. Eric, ever the brave, slid into a boat by himself, but let out a scream when it wobbled immediately. Thankfully, the activities staff was still holding the boat to keep it from tipping.

That left you, Jacob, Kevin and Juyeon to decide how to configure yourselves and you could see the Canadians' meddling from a mile away.

"Dibs on Jacob!" Kevin slung his arm around his friend and ran off towards the dock, leaving you speechless with Juyeon.

He gazed at you with shiny eyes, "Guess it's us again?"

"Ha. Us. Again," you enunciated dumbfounded at how obvious Kevin and Jacob were being.

Juyeon didn't seem to note any of this as he casually tugged on your arm in the direction of the boats, "Come on. Let's go."

You were the last ones to put on your life jackets and when you looked out at the lake, you could see your friends had already ventured far into the water. Juyeon stepped into the shaking boat first, taking a seat at the far edge.

When you looked nervous about climbing on, Juyeon held out his hand towards you, "Be careful," he said, nonchalantly.

You held your breath as you took his large hand. Your hands looked like a kid's in his large hold, but the way he wrapped his fingers around your own and made you feel secure had you less wary of getting onto the boat.

When you finally were able to sit across from him, you released the breath and the staff had unhooked you from the dock. Juyeon clapped for you in pride.

"I've always wanted to do this," you admitted to him, watching the water ripple around you.

He quirked an eyebrow at you and held the oars in your direction. He was the one currently manoeuvring the two of you further into the water, "Oh, do you wanna steer, then?"

You took the two pieces of wood from his grasp and grinned at him lopsidedly, "Can't promise we won't capsize though."

He smirked at you from across the boat, "I can swim. Can you?"

Your terrified look had him laughing in stitches as he teased you, "I guess I'll be the one saving you from your own disaster, then."

You kissed your teeth playfully at him as you tried to get into a rhythm with the oars. It was actually harder than you thought to move the boat in a smooth motion due to the drag of the water, but Juyeon just watched you in amusement as he leant back on the boat. You appreciated that he wasn't trying to take over the second he realised you weren't any good at this.

"Y/N-ie!" you heard a voice shout to your left. You looked over to find Eric's lone boat coming towards you at full steam. You watched as his face contorted into panic, realising that he didn't know how to slow down his boat.

Before it could crash into you, Juyeon reached over and held you down on the boat by your shoulders. When Eric made impact, you rocked in your seat, but less than Juyeon who swayed in his mid-standing crouching position. You stabilised him by holding onto his arms with yours.

Juyeon jumped back once he realised the crash was over, cheeks pink as he felt your touch on his bare skin. He settled back into his seat, looking unimpressed at his younger friend.

"Eric," he scowled at the sheepish boy, "Be careful. You could have tipped us over."

"Sorry," Eric pulled his lips into an apologetic pout, "I just wanted to say hi."

"It's okay, Eric. We're safe," you laughed off the incident as you brushed your hair back into place. You had passed over the oars to Juyeon at this point as you conversed with the guilty tanned boy, "Are you enjoying it?"

Eric nodded happily, "It's so much fun! I could do this all day."

Your heart melted at his enthusiasm. Eric was definitely giving you younger brother vibes through this trip with his puppy-like energy.

Juyeon swatted the oar in his direction, "Go bother someone else, Youngjae."

You glared at your boat-mate, "Juyo, that's not very nice."

"He almost killed us, Y/N," Juyeon exaggerated dramatically as he pushed the nose of Eric's boat away from yours.

Eric clicked his tongue and shook his head, laughing under his breath, "Alright, alright, I get it, hyung. Sorry for almost killing you."

You watched in disbelief as Eric paddled away at the speed of lightning, now looking like he was about to crash again into Minseo and Suyeon's boat. Turning back to your partner, you shook your head at him.

"What? That was dangerous," Juyeon whined at your glare, "Anyway, you called me Juyo."

Your hands flew up to your mouth as you burned red at the slip up, "Oh sorry! I never asked if I could call you that. I just heard Jacob call you it earlier."

Juyeon flashed you a boyish grin as he paddled your boat away from where everyone had seemed to congregate, pushing at each other's boats, "I don't mind. You can call me Juyo; I like it," then his face morphed with something unrecognisable for a second, "What were you and Jacob talking about?"

Your eyes narrowed into slits as you examined the boy in front of you. Where he was confident meeting your eyes earlier, he was now looking at everywhere other than you. It had you thinking whether there was some truth in Jacob's words, but you definitely didn't want to get your hopes up.

"Didn't he say it was a bit private?" you tried to say nonchalantly. Juyeon began to nod like he didn't care much at all, but you just laughed at him, "I'm kidding. We weren't talking about anything specific. I don't know why he said it was private."

"Oh, so you're not dating?"

You gasped at the accusation, "Me and Jacob? Why would you think that?"

Juyeon shrugged as he continued to row steadily, "You guys spend a lot of time together. He was teaching you to play the guitar last night."

Ah, Juyeon must have noticed Jacob instructing you on the patio after you expressed interest in learning to play. You had thought that he was inside making dinner with the girls, but he must have stepped out or seen you in the reflection of the glass door.

You smiled coyly, "We spend a lot of time together, but we're not dating are we?"

You don't know where this bravery came from- you weren't usually so teasing to anyone you spoke to. However, being with Juyeon showed you a new, more playful side to yourself that knew how to be a bit less uptight and closed off.

Juyeon pressed his lips into a thin line, "Right. We're not."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Halfway through the trip, Minseo had the idea to have a fancy dinner out one day in the nearest town. She wanted to get dressed up and get properly ready, since most of the activities you'd been doing thus far either involved the water or getting sweaty in the sun. Because this wasn't in your itinerary, you and the three girls took their car out to shop for new dresses, while the boys searched their luggage for something appropriate.

You deduced that they didn't have anything to wear either when you bumped into Sangyeon, Younghoon, Haknyeon and Eric midway through the shopping trip with bags and bags occupying their hands. They must have been sent out by the others to buy shirts and slacks. While buying new outfits could be considered excessive, the pieces were always recyclable and appropriate for the real world that the graduates were about to go into and the working adults were already partaking in. The dresses on the other hand, were not so transferrable, but you just hoped that you'd find an occasion to use it again in. You didn't feel too guilty considering the four of you only delved into thrift and second hand shops to find your outfits for the mid-scale restaurant that Minseo found.

You got ready in the girls' room, spending more time with them since being around the boys 24/7 got tiring sometimes. They had been very welcoming to you through the past week and a half despite being a tight-knit trio already. They were also all graduated and figuring out their lives, but welcomed you into their group regardless. You could definitely see yourself keeping in touch with them after the trip ended, even if you ended up in a random city far away.

There was always something nice about getting ready with a group of friends. Jiwon had curled the back of your head while she rambled on about how Younghoon was taking his sweet time making a move on her, meanwhile Suyeon was painting pink varnish on Minseo's right hand. The four of you took pictures after cleaning up the inevitably messy room and sat cross-legged on the bed as you sent them to each other.

"Juyeon's gonna die when he sees you," Suyeon smirked as she airdropped a set of photos she had taken from you.

"Why does everyone keep thinking me and Juyeon have something going on? We're just friends," you muttered, swiping through the images.

The room fell into silence and you looked up to three disbelieving faces. Minseo rolled her eyes at you, "Be serious, Y/N. Juyeon is smitten with you."

You pressed your lips together to contain a cheesing smile. Suyeon nodded in agreement, "Don't forget we're on the dance team so we know him quite well. We've never seen him with a girl like this."

"Maybe he just kept it separate from dance."

"Then he was not seeing anyone because he was dedicated to that shit 24/7," Jiwon told you, "Trust us. He likes you."

You looked on apprehensively, "Guys, we just met. It's been a week and a half."

Minseo flopped back on the bed in exasperation, "Have you never heard of love at first sight? I feel like it's pretty common that crushes develop quite quickly, especially if you're spending all day and night with someone."

"Think of Love Island," Jiwon offered, glaring at you when you stifled a laugh, "They're locked in a villa together 24/7 and by day 3 they're married with kids making out by the pool. You're basically doing better than them!"

You giggle at her analogy, appreciating the girls trying to justify the growing affection you've developed for the sleepy-eyes boy the past few days, "Maybe, but even still, I'm not the type to make the first move at all. I still want to give it time."

Suyeon nodded in understanding, "That's fair. Don't worry though, you'll know your answer by how he reacts to you tonight. You're a literal smoke show, babe."

You side-hug her in thanks and return the compliment. Minseo pushed herself off the bed as she checked the phone, "The guys have already left. We should get going too."

Downstairs, the four of you strapped on your sandals and did a sweep of the house to make sure everyone had left and you didn't accidentally leave anyone behind. Jiwoo recalled a time to you about how after one dance show that everyone either attended or participated in, they were sorting out transport after the show and each car thought that another car was taking Sunwoo home. It resulted in Sangyeon having to turn the car around once they realised at the restaurant that Sunwoo wasn't there and a grudge that Sunwoo held for months afterwards.

When you reached the restaurant in town after a small drive, the boys had already been sat down for a few minutes. The server led you to an area where they had joined 3 tables together to accompany your large group. You could see the spaces they left in the middle for the four of you.

"Y/N," a soft voice called out for you as you reached the table. Juyeon stood up from his spot and pulled a chair out, "Hope you don't mind sitting next to me."

The girls let out some sounds of amusement behind you as they took their seats. Jiwon slid in to the sit between yours and Younghoon. With your body aflame, you returned a gracious smile, "Not at all, Juyo."

After you had sat down and greeted the other boys, you opened up the menu to confirm what you wanted despite checking it earlier. Everyone's attention had turned away from you, so Juyeon took it as an opportunity to lean closer and bring his lips up to your ear, hidden from view by the menus.

"You look beautiful, by the way," he murmured shyly.

Fighting the urge to just scream in glee and giddiness, you chewed on your bottom lip. Juyeon's hair was styled differently today with some of his hair being pushed back and away from his forehead when day-to-day, his hair fell into his eyes. He was wearing a plain button up with the top buttons undone and he had sprayed on a perfume that was completely intoxicating.

"You don't look too bad yourself," you whispered to him, masking the way your heart was racing just at the sight of him.

Juyeon returned a triumphant smile and moved back to look at his own menu. From beside you, Jiwon was practically vibrating in her seat from excitement.

"He's just being nice," you mouthed to her. She rolled her eyes and turned back to her best friend slash longstanding crush.

You were never much of a drinker in college. Sure, you partook in your fair share of college parties and bar hopping nights, but you wouldn't say that you were an expert in the matter. Your tolerance was okay, but as the dinner progressed, it seemed like a better and better idea to keep ordering more wine.

By the end of it, all non-drivers on the table were verging on tipsy, all while Kevin, Sangyeon, Minseo and Jacob watched in amusement. There hadn't been any more heart-swooning moments from Juyeon through the dinner, but just being sat in close proximity to him made you feel safe and warm.

When it was time to head back to the lake house, Sangyeon had proposed the idea of ending the night with lighting the fire outside. You had utilized it a few times already, so there was a reserve of wood and flammable materials in the corner waiting to be used. It was a clear and still night with a slight breeze, so it was perfect to light it up.

Thankfully, Sangyeon and Jacob being sober worked out as they could start the fire together without harm. You definitely didn't trust the stumbling Eric or mumbling Haknyeon to do it themselves. Even Hyunjae looked a bit out of it.

The fire was roaring strong as you perched yourself on one of the benches surrounding it. Every so often, Sangyeon was throwing a log into the flames and fanning it to keep it going. It wasn't too cold in the night, but the fire provided a blanketing warmth. You were all still in your 'fancy' outfits and everyone was taking photos at different spots in the back yard. Jacob had fetched his guitar and was strumming random melodies while Sunwoo and Chanhee sang along beside him.

To your left, you heard a click of a camera.

"Lee Juyeon, will you stop taking photos of me?" you mused as you found him with the camera up to his eyes.

He smiled softly, "What's wrong with wanting to remember this moment? You look beautiful."

Your eyes fluttered shut as his words tugged at your lips, "Juyeon..."

Juyeon let out a hearty laugh as he put the camera down and scooted closer to you on the bench, thighs pressing against each other, "I'm being too obvious, aren't I?"

Everyone else was far away enough from you to be able to hear, so you were less fearful of being subject to teasings if they heard this conversation.

You thought that the wine was giving you a bit too much liquid courage, "Keep it up and I might believe what our friends are telling me."

Juyeon's breath hitched, "And what are they telling you?"

Eyes closed, you felt Juyeon press his side more purposely against yours, "I don't wanna say," you mumbled.

"Oh come on, don't I have the right to know if it concerns me?" Juyeon retorted back, "Please?"

A burst of courage pumped through your veins, "They're saying you might have a crush."

Juyeon was silent for so long that you were afraid that if you opened your eyes, he'd have disappeared. Still, you felt the warmth of his body radiating to you. Your head was heavy, lolling in front of you while Juyeon formulated his words.

You opened your eyes to a blazing fire as Juyeon chuckled lowly beside you, "I might."

Your voice indicated the surprise you felt at his indirect confession, "You might?"

"I might," he repeated. You could hear the smile in his voice, "Hard not to."

You avoid looking at him as you find a stick on the ground and start poking the fire, "You develop crushes that quick?"

"What can I say? I've always been a hopeless romantic," Juyeon mused, stretching out his arm behind you to be able to lean on them as he shuffled in his seat.

"That's not what I've heard," you recalled the conversations you've had with his friends.

Juyeon gasped, "How much have they been talking to you about me?"

You chuckled, "You're all they can ever talk about with me, if I'm being honest."

Juyeon grumbled under his breath, "I'm gonna kill all of them!"

You paused for a moment, suddenly frowning at the orange flames, "Is this just the wine talking, Juyeon?"

He snapped his head towards you so suddenly that you do the same and finally meet his eyes. The flames reflecting back in his eyes and on his face cast a golden glow on his skin, "What? No! They might have given me the courage to say these things but I'd never deceive you."

You dropped your voice to a whisper, "Do you mean it? That you might have a crush?"

Juyeon giggled at your words as he reached up to your face and tucked your hair behind your ear. Oh, he was surely a hopeless romantic.

"Definitely."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

When you woke up the next morning, your heart was already racing. It was the residual effects of the way Lee Juyeon made you feel the night before. While you couldn't talk much more after Kevin plopped down on the bench beside you causing you two to jump apart, you shared many knowing smiles throughout the night.

But it left more questions unanswered than answered. Despite that, you tried to push down the feelings of uncertainty to focus on the present.

Kevin and Jacob were already awake by the time that you emerged from under your sheets. They were both applying their skincare on the bed, a Youtube video playing on low volume near them.

"Morning sunshine," Kevin's voice was too teasing that you knew you were in for it, "How was your night with mister loverboy?"

"Kevin," you warned lowly, sending piercing glares in his direction. Jacob had stopped what he was doing to listen in.

"All I'm saying is that you two looked very comfy by the fire last night," he shrugged innocently, "Look, Juyeon's a great guy. Not sure why I didn't think to set him up with you, but you two go together well."

"Can't believe you thought Chanhee was a better option," Jacob snorted beside him. Kevin picked up his pillow and smacked his companion with it.

"Juyeon's great," you affirmed, "I just don't want to go too fast or anything since I don't even know where I'm gonna end up."

"Have you heard back from any of the jobs you've been applying for?" Kevin asked softly.

Every single day, at the end of the evening, you would open your laptop in bed and send applications for every new job listing you could find, even if they weren't related to your degree. Someone would have to take you, right?

You nodded slowly, "I have a few interviews in the city after we get back. I'm trying not to get my hopes up with any of them since I've done so many interviews this past year to no avail."

Kevin got up to your bed and gave you a squeeze, "You'll find something, okay? You're too good to let go of and all those companies were dumb to not have you."

"Thank you Kevin," you said sincerely.

"Now, get up! It's beach day!" Kevin yelped excitedly.

Although you were facing a very large lake, there was still something different about going to the beach, digging your toes in the sand and dipping into the ocean. The nearest nice beach was nearly an hour away, so you all agreed to try and get up and get ready early.

You took a lightning fast shower and packed your things into your bag. The boys had brought tents with them that you could use to get changed in once you got to the beach, so you just slipped on a sundress with sandals. You met the girls in their room and then planned to go down to Minseo's car. Although you rode over with Kevin, you were definitely enjoying the girls' presence and so moved yourself to their car by their insistence.

When you were at the top of the staircase, you felt an arm brush against yours and the weight of your tote bag disappearing as it was snatched out of your hand.

"Morning," Juyeon breathed, bringing his lips to the shell of your ear.

You jumped in your spot, clutching your chest in surprise, "Oh my God, Juyeon! You scared me! And I can take my bag."

Juyeon raced ahead a few steps to keep it out of your grasp, "It's no problem. Are you going in Minseo's car?"

"Mhm," you nodded as he opened the front door to find some of the other boys loading their things in. You waved good morning to each of them as you unlocked Minseo's car with the keys she entrusted to you. They were still packing their last bits.

Sangyeon bounded over from his car, eyeing you and Juyeon, "Hey, we only want to take 3 cars instead of 4 to the beach. We need another person in the girls' car."

Before Juyeon could open his mouth to volunteer, Younghoon had rushed over and stretched his arms over the both of you, wedging you apart, "And that's gonna be me. Sorry Juyo. Get Eric or Hak to switch with your girlfriend."

Both you and Juyeon let out a trapped, muffled sound of surprise at his comment and you kept your eyes down on the gravel to avoid showing everyone your flushed faces.

Younghoon's belly laugh echoed through the lake, "I'm just playing, guys. You should see your faces- ow! Juyeon!"

Juyeon smirked innocently, batting his eyelashes like he didn't just kick Younghoon in the shin. Sangyeon tutted like them like a disgruntled dad as he returned to his own car. Through his window, you could see Chanhee, Changmin and Sunwoo all already asleep in the back of the car while Hyunjae loaded heavy-looking coolers into the back.

Younghoon dashed inside, probably to help the girls with their items, leaving you and Juyeon looking at each other wide-eyes and shy.

"Sorry about him," Juyeon sheepishly said.

You waved him off with a dismissive hand, "Don't worry- I've got used to the teasing. How was your sleep?"

"I barely slept last night," he admitted, "I was overthinking. I wasn't too much last night, was I?"

You shook your head immediately, "No, no. Of course not. We didn't get to talk much last night, but honestly, you're good. We're on the same page, I think."

Juyeon fought the smile on his face, "We are?"

"Definitely," you echoed his words from the previous night with a teasing tone. You could practically see him folding into himself in shyness, but you just tugged at the hem of his shirt with a soft expression, "It's so early in the morning to be teased together by Jacob and Kevin if we go in the same car, so I'll just see you at the beach. Is that okay?"

Juyeon nodded affirmatively, "I agree. I'm just gonna pass out in the car anyway. Have a safe trip, pretty."

Your cheeks were permanently red around him, "You too, Juyeon."

When your car was finally on the road going at a constant speed, Minseo looked at you through the rearview mirror and sighed, "I've always wanted a summer romance."

You frowned slightly, "Do you think me and Juyeon will just be a summer thing?"

Minseo's mouth dropped agape as she rushed to collect herself, "No, no. I didn't mean that. I just meant I've always wanted to meet someone on vacation and make a relationship out of it. I think it's cute."

"Juyeon's not one for flings," Jiwon uttered beside you. She was squished in the middle seat between you and Younghoon, who was sleeping soundly with his head nested in her shoulder, "He's never had a girlfriend or a situationship through college. I don't know about high school, but I don't think Juyeon's the type to play around with girls."

"And he wears his heart on his sleeve. We've always been able to tell what he's feeling- if he's nervous, if he's mad or frustrated. He's such a sweet guy so we hope you can take care of him too," Suyeon added on from the passenger seat.

You nodded slowly at their heartfelt words, "I've realised that about him. He's very real."

"Did you guys confess to each other last night?" Minseo asked hesitantly, "You guys looked really close by the fire."

"Kevin said the same thing this morning," you chortled, "And kind-of, I guess? It was more of a half-confession."

"That's better than nothing," Suyeon hummed, "You guys should talk properly before we leave."

You agreed noiselessly as you thought about it. There was definitely something going on between you- that much was clear. You were a little nervous about it all after remembering what Chanee said to you about people developing feelings in close proximity, but you thought to yourself that that wasn't something to project onto yourself or onto Juyeon without proper deliberation.

You were also in close proximity with the other boys, but that didn't mean that you developed feelings for them either. You felt that you owed it to Juyeon who was brave enough to be so forward with his feelings to explore the relationship without prejudice.

Sure, it might get hard when you start working and living your lives again, but that was for future you who had experienced it to decide. You've let your fears stop you from many things in your life before, but whenever you're beside Juyeon, he makes you feel like you should throw out all those doubts and just enjoy the present moment with him.

You got so in your head during the car ride that you didn't even notice the car halting to a stop and the locks clicking open.

"We're here," Suyeon murmured softly, reaching from the front to gently shake Jiwon and Younghoon awake. She turned to you with an understanding look, "You okay, babe?"

"Yeah," you breathed out, "I'm just trying not to worry about it."

"Mhm," she smiled softly as Jiwon stretched awake beside you with a sleepy grunt.

The beach car park wasn't too far from the sand, so you all loaded your arms with the items from the trunk in order to set up camp for the day. It was blazing hot with the sun high up in the sky, so you were all sweating by the time you decided on a large enough spot on the beach. Thankfully, it wasn't too busy as it was a weekday, but there were still some people dotted around.

Jacob's car hadn't arrived yet since Kevin texted in the groupchat that they had to make a stop to let Eric go to the bathroom halfway through. Sangyeon's car was taking the coolers and the tents down to the beach and thankfully, the tents didn't require setting up other than anchoring them down in place with sandbags and everyone's belongings.

The group decided a few nights ago that you were going to do a barbecue on the beach after you swam for a bit, so Hyunjae and Younghoon were separating all the ingredients they had brought for that into a corner of the space. Sunwoo, Chanhee and Changmin had immediately ran away with a beach volleyball to play with away from the food.

You laid out a bunch of beach mats and picnic blankets, keeping them from blowing away by placing someone's bag on each of the corners. Suyeon and Jiwon were applying sunscreen on each other, having changed into their bikinis already, meanwhile you were waiting for Minseo to change in the second tent after you changed in the first one.

"I'm so hungry," Minseo grumbled as she dropped her bag of clothes on the mat and rummaged for the sunscreen.

"Me too, but we can't swim for a while if we eat," you reminded her. You had munched on a breakfast bar that Minseo kept stashed in her car at the start of the journey, but you had to wait to eat lunch or else going into the ocean wasn't a good idea. You don't actually know if that's a myth or not, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

She squeezed a dollop of cream into your hands that you lathered all over the areas you could reach and then turned your attention to each other to help get the spots missed. You let it seep into your skin first so it wouldn't get washed off as soon as you entered the ocean.

By the time you felt ready to go, Jacob's car had pulled up and you could hear them coming from a mile away thanks to the speaker in Eric's hand already booming music. They didn't have much in their cars, but you could see a donut inflatable around Juyeon's arms.

"Hi gorgeous," Juyeon smirked at you as he placed down the ring on the mat, "You look ready to jump into the sea."

"We've been waiting for a bit," you burrowed your toes into the golden, warm sand.

"Blame Eric. He didn't go to the bathroom before we left and then chugged a bottle of water," Juyeon rolled his eyes, "It's okay, I put on sun protection in the car."

You laughed at the visual that appeared suddenly in your head, "You guys were definitely rubbing sunscreen on each other's backs, right?"

He hid a guilty smile, "Maybe, maybe."

Mid-laugh, you were struck silent as Juyeon suddenly pulled his shirt off in one quick motion. The past week and a half that you'd been swimming in the pool, he'd been wearing a top. Sure when he was drenched, the fabric would cling to his skin and you could see the outline of his abs through them if you were looking (you definitely were not), but seeing him suddenly shirtless in front of you had your mouth gasping apart. The sun made his abs reflect golden honey and his muscly arms flexed as he pulled the shirt off.

Juyeon smirked at your reaction, "You're gonna catch flies, babe."

You snapped your mouth shut, scrunching your face in embarrassment as he chuckled at you. Trying to walk away from him, Juyeon just huffed and caught your bare waist with his large hands, pulling you back towards him, "Don't be shy, c'mere."

A passing Changmin gagged as he glared at you two, "Oh I'm gonna be sick. Get a room."

Chanhee, who was walking by his side and practically attached to his hip, huffed along, "They make me feel so single. It's so gross."

"Fuck off," Juyeon smiled innocently at his friends, who flipped him off without even sparing a glance at the two of you. He turned his attention back to you, "Sorry, is this too much?"

The sliver of skin he was touching was burning under his fingers, but you pushed down your usual reservedness, "I feel like exploding, but no, it's okay."

He bit at his plump lips, "You're so cute. Let's go swim?"

"I don't know if swim is the right word. I told you I can't swim. Maybe waddle is better," you reminded him at your inability.

Juyeon ahh'ed and picked up the inflatable, "Use this, then. Or hold onto me, yeah? I won't let you drown, promise."

He held up his pinky finger at you, which you wrapped your own around. But instead of breaking apart, Juyeon used it to tug at you towards the ocean. He started breaking out into a jog, catching you off guard, and you picked up your pace to run beside him.

When you reached the ocean, you were struggling to catch your breath from both laughing so hard and the sudden exercise he made you do. Thankfully, the sea was warm under the sun, so it wasn't an added shock to the system.

Juyeon helped slide the ring over your body so that you were in the middle of the donut hole and you paddled deeper into the ocean where your feet couldn't touch anymore. A few metres away from you, Haknyeon and Sunwoo were splashing at each other.

"This is nice, I like this," you told Juyeon happily, "I was kinda scared to go into the ocean."

Juyeon placed his hand on the ring, "Don't worry, I got you. Let's go a bit deeper, yeah?"

You let him push you along a bit further since his feet were still touching the sand at the bottom and when the water came up to his shoulders, he stopped and let you paddle around him in the donut. He watched in amusement as you giggled to yourself happily.

"So adorable," he murmured. After a few minutes, when he realised that there was no one near the two of you for a considerable distance, he reached his arm out to half your floatie.

"Mhm?" you quirked an eyebrow at him as he pulled you in closer.

"Do you trust me?" Juyeon began, eyes shining with mischief.

Your eyes widened as you gripped the float tight to your body, "Oh no. What is it?"

Juyeon chuckled and reached for your waist under the water. He tugged at you, but the float kept your bodies at a distance.

"Wrap your legs around me. I'm gonna take the float off you," he proposed slowly, watching your reaction.

"Juyeon," you drawled in fear, holding on even tighter.

"I won't let you drown, come on," he encouraged, "I'm still touching the ground."

Reluctantly, you moved your body as close as you could to him. The minute he felt your legs close around his torso, he flicked the float off over your head and pulled you in flush with his toned arms. Disregarded, the donut moved steadily with the waves.

"I told you," he murmured. You had got a bit surprised from the way he pulled you tight to his body, instinctively tucking your head into his neck and squealing. Juyeon rubbed at your back with his palm to reassure you.

This was definitely the closest that you'd been to Juyeon at all- actually, it was a major step up altogether. You think that you half-confessions you'd shared with each other had given him all the confidence and courage all at once.

"Is this okay?" Juyeon asked quietly as both of your hearts thumped against your chests strongly.

He had asked you that so much, just showing how much of a gentleman he truly was, never wanting to go further than you were comfortable with.

"Yeah," you hummed softly, pulling your head back to look at him. A gentle smile rested on his features as he gazed at you. Your back was turned away from the shore, "Are they looking?"

Juyeon craned his head around you and stifled a laugh, "They're trying to act like they're not. Do you care?"

You thought about it for a moment. To be honest, they all already knew; they were the ones pushing you together at every moment. You shook your head, "No."

Juyeon grinned, moving the hair that had floated to your face behind your ear. Your hands were preoccupied hanging on for dear life around his neck, so he took it as his obligation to help, "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

A lot of guys had told you that, especially on the blind dates you've been on. Whenever they said it, it never felt real and always just felt like they were saying it to get in your pants or as a gateway for you to owe them something. When Juyeon says it to you, his words drip with sincerity.

"Thank you," you mumbled shyly, moving your head back into his neck.

Your torsos were pressed against each other, so you could feel the rumble and vibration of his body as he laughed at your reaction. You tried to unbury yourself away from him, but his hand crept up to the back of your neck and kept you there, sending shivers down your spine. Your body shook in anticipation as the silence hung thick in the air.

"I'm just gonna say it," he breathed out shakily, "I really do like you, Y/N. I know we've only known each other 2 weeks, but I've really enjoyed spending time with you. You honestly have made me feel things I haven't before and I get excited to see you every morning. That's so cheesy, I know. If you do like me back, I don't want to ask you to be my girlfriend yet, but would you be down to keep getting to know each other and going on dates after this and seeing where it takes us?"

You're not sure if he kept your face buried into his skin for your benefit or his, since his voice was shaking as he spoke. You smiled into his neck, whispering confidently, "I like you too, Juyeon. Isn't it obvious?"

"Maybe, but I like that. I don't like playing games," Juyeon released his hold on the back of your neck and moved his arm back to your waist to keep you pressed against him.

"You've only been out of college a few weeks, how are you so mature already?" you playfully teased as you peered up at him.

Rolling he eyes, he squeezed at your waist, "I've always been mature. It's a shame we didn't meet earlier; now I feel like they were gate keeping you away from me."

"You were one of the last ones I had yet to meet," you revealed, "I had met everyone briefly other than you, the girls, Eric and Hak."

He bumped your forehead with his, "Best for last, right?"

"Definitely," you grinned.

"Okay, I dragged you out just to tell you all this, to be honest. Let's go back to everyone before I lose control and kiss you or something," Juyeon suddenly blurted, taking a few steps back to the shore with you still wrapped around him.

A surge of confidence had you squeezing your legs around him to stop him, "Who's stopping you?"

Juyeon's eyes widened in surprise as he chewed at his lip. Reluctantly, he dropped his voice and leaned in closer to you, "Are you sure?" His hot breath fanned over your lips.

He'd practically made all the first moves up until this point and you could see the honesty in his eyes. You figured you'd save him the trouble as you reached forward and pressed your lips against his.

He tasted a bit salty from when he had splashed the ocean water over his face and a bit like the orange Fanta he was drinking earlier when he got out of the car. Juyeon yelped in shock against your lips, but smiled into them as he applied more pressure and properly slotted his lips between yours.

You hadn't planned on actually making out with him in the middle of the ocean as your friends watched on in astonishment, but he captured your lips every time you pulled away slightly and licked at your bottom lip with his tongue. Your hold around his neck grew stronger as his grip on your waist grew tighter.

"Juyeon," you whispered against him when you came up for air.

"Don't blame me, this is your doing," he uttered each word between deep kisses. He wasn't kidding, he felt like he had lost control when it came to you and he couldn't bring himself to pull away from you. The gentle tide was bobbing the two of you up and down, but he kept his hold tight as he kept your lips attached and slotted his tongue into your mouth.

You indulged in him, deepening the kiss even more, "I'm really glad I met you, Juyeon," you panted.

This was enough to pull him away from you, keeping your foreheads pressed together, "Me too, Y/N. Me too."

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

So you didn't hear the end of it from your friends during the rest of the beach day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. It wasn't like you'd planned the impromptu make out session to be witnessed by 13 pairs of eyes, but honestly it's their fault for not looking away.

Juyeon also didn't hear the end of it from Sunwoo for letting his inflatable donut float away too far out of reach to retrieve. The younger boy forced him to send more money than it actually cost as compensation, but Juyeon believed it was totally worth it.

It was your final full day at the lake house and you haven't been able to peel Juyeon away from you for more than a couple minutes. In full honesty, you'd always wanted a boyfriend that clung to your side and kept you warm, safe and protected and he was definitely checking off all those boxes.

"Disgusting," Hak scoffed as he passed behind you on the couch. You were sitting sideways in Juyeon's lap, scrolling on your phone as he played against Hyunjae on a game you had never heard of. The competitor was sat far away from the two of you on a different couch across the living room.

"It's not my fault you're single," Juyeon clapped back without missing a beat.

Haknyeon groaned and ran away faster to the back yard. You'd already spent the morning outside- Juyeon had been making good on his promise to improve your table tennis skills this whole trip, but you definitely wouldn't consider yourself a ping pong goddess yet. Thankfully, there wasn't a time limit anymore for him to keep helping you improve.

In between rounds, Juyeon would pat your head and stroke your hair softly. You would turn to him and give a soft smile that he would return before Hyunjae loaded up the next game. You were just going through your emails, blocking out in your calendar all the interviews you had amassed from your applications over the three weeks. You were feeling more optimistic about returning to the world, even more so with new relationships and friendships making your life more exciting. You were also excited to see your college friends again; they were sulky about missing out seeing you become smitten with a man, but their teasing was never-ending anyway.

"Baby you can go join the others if you're bored," Juyeon murmured lowly as he kept his eyes on the flat screen TV. He was aggressively mashing the buttons on the controller and you actually had no idea if he knew what he was doing.

"I'm fine here," you assured him.

One thing that had changed since Juyeon confessed to you was the development of pet names. Juyeon adored calling you every pet name under the sun, no matter how shy or blushing they made you. Another thing was his clinginess; Juyeon barely touched you at all before you two bared your feelings and you had no idea how he kept that side of him under wraps. He was lucky that you indulged in each and every one of his quirks.

When Juyeon was by your side, he was either holding your hand, playing with your fingers or wrapping his entire, huge body around you. He was so much taller than you that he practically swamped you, but it made you feel so giddy. Now you knew the exact meaning of the honeymoon phase.

He showed you his affection previously through acts of service and he hasn't slowed down in that department since. In only a few days, he had committed himself to making you a morning beverage as soon as you woke up and making sure that you were warm when the nights became cooler or shaded when the sun was too hot. Sure, he may have a patch of sunburn on his back, but as long as you didn't, he was a-okay.

"You're quieter today. Are you sure everything's okay?" Juyeon hummed. Hyunjae was too busy screaming at the TV to hear anything you two were saying.

"I dunno. I'm excited to go back and explore us, but at the same time, I really, really don't want to leave," you squeezed your eyes shut with a deep breath, "I don't want anything to ruin what we have."

Juyeon's eyebrows pulled together in concern, but he dropped a comforting kiss on your shoulder to comfort you, "It might be different, which I know is scary, but that's the exciting part. It might be even better than this! We'll always have this summer together, but just give us a chance out there, yeah?"

"Of course, Juyo," you flopped your head into his chest and nuzzled yourself into his shirt, "I don't have any doubts about us, I promise. It's just that everything is so new."

"It's gonna be great, baby. I'm already planning all the dates I wanna take you on and all the things I wanna show you and everywhere I wanna eat with you and-"

Hyunjae let out a yelp of frustration as he lost the battle. You don't know how Juyeon was winning despite him rambling adorably to you.

Your lips curled into a smile at his blabbing and you cut him off by pressing your lips into his jawline. Juyeon mirrored your expression and craned his head to connect your lips together. Juyeon was definitely insatiable when it came to kissing.

"I thought the pining was bad, but this is much, much, much, much worse," Hyunjae cried out, throwing his controller on the seat beside him, "Do you two have no shame? Y/N, you were so shy in the beginning."

Your head was buried into Juyeon's neck as he wrapped his arms around you, game abandoned. Feet padded loudly on the hardwood floors as Kevin's voice sounded out, "Oh, she's only shy at first. Y/N is actually a menace."

"This is all kind of your doing, Kevin," you gestured to you and Juyeon.

Kevin bounded over and leaned down to squeeze the two of you in his arms, "And that's why I expect your first baby to be named after me! Kevin or Hyungseo, I'm not picky."

Juyeon scoffed at him and shoved him away, "Shut up, you didn't do anything. Don't give him credit, Y/N."

"You know I had to beg Y/N for three months straight to come, right?" Kevin deadpanned, "I definitely deserve thanks."

"Well it's definitely no thanks to you that I only met her now when you've known her for a year and a half!" Juyeon retorted passionately.

Kevin plopped down on the couch beside Juyeon, shoving away your feet that were perched up on them, "We had to physically drag you out of the dance studio if we wanted to hang out with you. You genuinely had a visceral reaction to the thought of leaving that basement."

Juyeon had been showing you videos of his choreographies the past few days and while he was incredibly innately talented, you also could see how much work he put into his craft. You were definitely very, very attracted to that side of him, not only for his talent but also for his dedication and persevering nature. He promised to teach you a few things about dance, but you told him not to get his hopes up in that department.

Juyeon couldn't argue with that one, so he just nuzzled his head into your body. You squealed at how adorable he was being, while the other boys around you audibly cringed in unison.

"Is it too late to back out of our tenancy agreement?" Changmin sighed, also taking a seat on the adjacent couch. Juyeon just threw a pillow at him that he caught and popped on his lap.

Both Juyeon and Changmin were employed by the dance studio to start after graduation. Since they'd been house mates for a couple of years already, it just made sense to continue living together at a place closer to the studio. Another reason why you'd never met Juyeon was that out of the batch of guys in your graduating class, only Kevin lived apart from them off-campus. Chanhee was left behind from the roommate situation after Juyeon and Changmin found a new place, but he quickly weaselled his way into convincing the incoming seniors Sunwoo, Haknyeon and Eric to live with him in a 4 bedroom house since he got a job at the university.

"Where are you gonna live by the way, Y/N?" Kevin asked curiously.

"My childhood home isn't that far, so I'll probably stay at home for a bit until I figure out everything. I'll probably get a place in town as soon as I can," you manifested to yourself, "I'm trying not to worry about it."

Juyeon gently ran his fingers through your hair, "Yeah, don't worry about it."

"You can sleep on mine and Jacob's couch if you ever need. We're gonna get a pull-out," Kevin grinned. He was giving up his solo, roommate-less life to move in with his fellow Canadian.

Juyeon gasped dramatically and trapped you in his arms, "No way is she sleeping on your couch! What if Cobie-hyung tries to steal her from me?"

Kevin reached over the couch and slapped Juyeon around the head playfully, "Stop being jealous that Y/N and Jacob went on a date before she even knew you existed."

You giggled at his pout and leaned into his hold, "Jacob has no chance against you."

A pained sound came from the direction of the back door, "Y/N! You wound me!"

"Why are you all just suddenly appearing when you're mentioned in the conversation?" you cried out exasperatedly as Jacob passed by the living room. He sent you a teasing wink, which Juyeon belatedly blocked by placing his hand in front of your face. You swatted at his hand, but he in turn just gripped your fingers in his hold.

Eventually, everyone congregated in the living room one by one. It was your last night together, so you all decided to just collate a bunch of food in the middle of the living room, put on some music and drink if you wanted to. Juyeon had volunteered to drive Kevin's car home since Kevin had a whole bottle of whiskey he was dying to finish, so you decided to stay sober with him so you could stay up on the drive without the effects of a hangover.

In the kitchen, you, Juyeon and Chanhee had prepared a bunch of snacks, ramen, meat and other food, meanwhile everyone dragged their pillows and duvets downstairs. You don't know if one big sleepover on the couches and hardwood floors was good for your bodies the night before a long drive home, but it seemed like the best idea at the moment.

It was amusing to watch everyone get drunk and recount their favourite memories from the trip, such as finally succeeding in ambushing Sunwoo to throw him in the pool. One of your own personal favourites was finally being consistently on the winning team of chicken fight in the pool once you convinced Juyeon to partner up with you. You deduced that Kevin was the problem in the pair.

When the night was dwindling down and everyone began to transition into a sleepy state, you changed the music to a calm Disney film that you could leave running in the background. Eric and Sunwoo were the first to knock out, snoring on one of the mattress they had hauled from their rooms. Two mattresses and a knocked out Hyunjae, Sangyeon, Minseo and Suyeon away, you were tucked under Juyeon's comforter and cuddling against his body. He had one arm under your head and the other draped over the top of you, his fingertips ghosting on your back. You were facing him, chin tilted up as you peppered silent kisses along the bottom half of his face and his neck.

"Are you sure you don't mind falling asleep next to me? I can move if you want," Juyeon mumbled sleepily, his eyelids heavy and closing involuntarily no matter how much he fought. Even in this state, he still put you and your comfort first.

"Thanks, Juyo. This is perfect, I promise," you cooed into his skin, "Let's go to sleep, yeah?"

"Mhm, goodnight my love," Juyeon's breathing eventually slowed down and became more steady as his heartbeat did the same. You matched his breathing and it wasn't long before you fell into dreamland with him, "See you in the morning."

"Goodnight, my Juyeon."

You never could have expected or anticipated just how much this trip that Kevin had pestered you to go on would change your life. Maybe your story with Juyeon was a whirlwind romance, but it was still just the start. You never could have foreseen the way the sweet boy with the cat-like sleepy eyes could unpick your heart and nestle himself in there. You never would have guessed you would find comfort and solace in someone like Lee Juyeon at such an uncertain time of your life.

And when he dropped you off at the doorstep of your parents' house at the end of the trip (it was definitely way too early for him to come inside), the searing kiss he left on your lips and the promise to see you the next day made you feel like meeting Lee Juyeon was your serendipitous fate - an accidental discovery, a happenstance you stumbled upon, but one that was inevitable in every way.

a/n: thank you thank you thank you for reading. find my masterlist here & all likes, comments, reblogs and feedback are so, so appreciated <3

[hcuyk]

OUR INFERNO | CHAPTER ONE

SYNOPSIS ✧ despite being your greatest archnemesis/rival/enemy/frenemy/whateverthefuck he was, hyunjae had always been by your side. that changed when your boyfriend was brought up, creating a newfound rift in your whateverthefuck relationship with hyunjae

PAIRING ✧ rival!hyunjae x fem!reader

GENRE ✧ high school au, enemies to fwb, angst, smut, fluff(?), humor(?) (these mfs bicker a lot), pining

WARNINGS ✧ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT — cheating, profanity, mentions of physical fight/bruises, underaged drinking, obsessive/possessive hyunjae : NSFW TAGS :  outdoor/semipublic sex, dubcon recording, spit/drool/tears, oral and fingering (fem receiving), penetration, scratching/ripping, humping, minimal praise, degradation, sub!hyunjae for 0.002 seconds, petnames (princess, good girl, babe/baby, slut)

WORD COUNT ✧ 19k

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THE BOYZ MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION

AUTHOR'S NOTE : in honor of my three years of officially stanning the boyz on this very day, let's celebrate with my smut debut and writing comeback 😋 enjoy my loves

PART ONE: CHASING THE SPARK (THE FIRE TETRAHEDRON) — fuel, oxygen, and heat | CHAPTER ONE

“Genuine question.”

“Shoot.”

“Who the fuck does Hyunjae actually think he is?”

Unphased by your up-and-coming rage rant, Kevin resumed snacking on the protein bar he had brought with him. He tossed his free arm over the camera equipment and backpacks sitting next to him on the bench, watching you stride back and forth within one of the many hallways in the recreational center. 

“Well, he is your boss.”

“No, he’s the student executive producer,” you corrected, your legs unwavering as you kept a consistent pace to release your frustrations. Kevin shrugged and tossed one leg over the other, staying relaxed despite the hot fumes emanating from your upright and angered figure. You paused momentarily to look him in the eye. 

“Emphasis on the student,” you clarified.

“Emphasis on the executive, Y/N.”

Baffled at how he was defending your greatest archnemesis (well, more like your greatest frenemy), you ignored his rebuttal and started pacing again. Your steps slowed as you envisioned the sensations you experienced just minutes before, back when you, Kevin, and Hyunjae were at the indoor pool to report for your school’s broadcasting channel. Technically, you were the one reporting and filming while Hyunjae was the subject of interest, and Kevin was there for physical support. 

Chills latched onto your skin as you remembered what it felt like to have Hyunjae’s bare torso looming over you, his eyes peering over your shoulder to glance at your footage. While staring at the camera, his gentle, irregular breaths would continuously hit your skin. Water from the pool would trickle down his hair and into your shirt, reaching your backside. When it happened, you could barely comprehend Hyunjae’s ‘advice’ and instead focused on feeling every cold droplet travel through the crevasses created by your spine. You winced at the thought of that happening again, yet somehow you could still hear his irritating voice near your ear, telling you all the reasons why your B-roll of his lap swimming was ‘trash’ and ‘unusable.’

For a moment, you stood there in the hallway frozen, unsure of how to move, before realizing you were just reliving a moment from earlier and that Hyunjae was still in the locker room changing.

“I’m going to make a complaint,” you declared, turning back towards Kevin for his encouragement. Alternatively, you were met with the sight of your best friend completely failing to conceal his judgment and disapproval towards your suggestion.

“Against Hyunjae? You gotta be kidding, right?”

“Yes,” you answered confidently. “Wait, I mean no, I’m not kidding, but yes, against Hyunjae.”

Kevin eyed you skeptically, trying to decipher why you felt threatened enough to report someone like Hyunjae. You may not have spent all your previous years in high school with an affinity for Hyunjae, but it wasn’t like you hated him either—not in the way you truly loathed others. If that were the case, you wouldn’t spend nearly every day with him, bickering until the sun chose to set.

“Sure, maybe my B-roll was trash, I can attest to that, but that does not give his bitchass the right to not only shit on how ‘awful’ I was doing, but also yank the camera out of my hands and delete all the footage I got because they weren’t ‘perfect enough.’ What kind of psycho is that?” You glanced over at Kevin, trying once again to get him to back you up, but the most he gave was a slight nod. Everything you were spurting was half-mindedly being decoded because he had ended up placing more significance on inhaling protein. Regardless, you continued.

“And you would think, hey! As the student executive producer of a high school broadcasting team, he would understand that no! I indeed do not record half-naked people swimming in a pool, whether it be for a career or a hobby. He should also at least have the decency to not swim seven hundred miles per minute while I’m recording. Of course I’m not going to catch up, especially when he barely told me how he wanted things to be recorded? Isn’t he fucking insane for that? Not to mention all the goddamn splashing because of how fucking long his limbs are—”

“You’re explaining this like I didn’t witness the whole exchange,” Kevin grumbled.

“And you would think he knows, right? That Mr. Executive-slash-Captain-of-the-Swim-Team should either be more considerate when, A, he’s kicking water in my direction when he’s swimming or, B, station me away from the edge of the pool? Just a thought, but fuck me, I guess.”

“Well yeah, but the—”

“Also! Not to mention the camera has the fucking ability to zoom in, so why was there even a need for me to stand by the pool anyway?” You scoffed at the absurdity, almost tempted to cackle like a villain because of it. “The least he could do was tell me how to record it or find a way to adjust and compromise without occasionally soaking me with water on purpose, which I know damn well he was—”

“That’s just how-”

“We have a tripod, for god’s sake!” you exclaimed. By now, Kevin had given up on providing you with his input. He opted to rest against the wall, finishing up whatever he had left of the protein bar, and occasionally would roll his eyes.

“But even then, who the fuck wants to see him swim anyway? We’ll probably only need like…what? A minute of the footage for the B-roll? So why the hell is he treating it like it’s about to be nominated by the goddamn Oscars for Best Picture? He just loves to nitpick and control me like a fucking puppet—”

“Keep talking and you’ll potentially strain your throat,” a new voice interrupted.

You jerked around to find Hyunjae, the culprit of your rant, exiting the locker room with a small duffle bag that contained both his swim gear and his school clothes from earlier in the day. His brown hair was only halfway dry, some strands still stuck to his forehead as he approached where you were pacing.

You halted in your path and stared him down. Hyunjae immediately caught onto the mood you were in, and instead of being shocked or hurt, he grinned.

“You.” 

Your attempt at threatening him with one word made Hyunjae laugh.

“Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”

“Oh here we go again,” Kevin mumbled, tossing the wrapper of the protein bar to the side. He pulled out his phone and went on TikTok, deciding it was more worthy of his attention than listening to you two banter—something he had been experiencing for well over five years.

As a mutual friend of yours and Hyunjae’s since middle school, Kevin understood the frenemy dynamic better than either of you. Eventually, over the long years he had known you both, he learned to leave you two be. 

“What about me, though? Are you going to try and tattletale on me?” Hyunjae feigned sympathy as he gave you an exaggerated pout, tilting his head like a puppy’s. “C’mon. I’m just doing my job.”

“Sorry, but I don’t remember ‘being a dick’ being listed under the requirements for your oh-so-important position of power.” You huffed at him and crossed your arms, choosing to face elsewhere as you rooted the soles of your feet to the ground.

Hyunjae furrowed his brows, his eyes never leaving you, as he addressed the third party within the shared space.

“Kevin, was I being a dick, or is Y/N exaggerating?”

Kevin glanced up at his phone and scrunched his nose at Hyunjae in annoyance.

“Don’t even try to bring me into whatever…this mess is.”

“No, tell him,” you demanded, now looking at him. Your glare was enough to burn Kevin into ashes, but it was nothing compared to Hyunjae’s gaze piercing into your back. Knowing that he never looked away made you shiver, hating how fixated he seemed to be—and seemingly without reason too.

“Listen, I wasn’t being a dick. I was treating you the same way I treat everyone else. I’d honestly argue that you’re just narcissistic and think everything is about you when—”

“Oh wow, thank you for admitting that you’re a dick to everyone else!” You tossed your hands up for dramatic appeal as you spun back around to look at him. He scoffed, but his demeanor was quickly shadowed by a smirk that appeared on his lips, testing you with the arch of his brow.

“Oh really? Do you see anyone else complaining?”

“I’m complaining,” Kevin muttered.

“People don’t complain because they’re scared of you, Sherlock,” you retorted. At this point, Hyunjae had already caught onto your bullshit of making evidence up, and it was why this exchange ended up lasting for as long as it did. Nevertheless, his ego continued to build the more you spoke.

“You’re not scared of me?”

And you keep falling for the bait.

“Why should I? You’re nothing.” You approached him and pressed a finger into his chest, taunting him as you stared straight into his eyes.

Suddenly a competition seemed to have materialized because now you both were locking eyes, too stubborn to look away. 

“One day you’ll wake up and realize your position doesn’t mean shit. You take it too seriously and make everyone’s job your job when this should be a learning experience for the rest of us.”

“And who exactly is ‘us,’ babe?”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Don’t call me that–”

“And it’s also starting to sound like jealousy to me.” Hyunjae’s eyes finally shifted, but instead of looking away from you like you initially wanted him to, you trailed his line of sight down to your lips. He eyed them shamelessly—technically making you win the unspoken eye contact competition, but at what cost? “I won’t believe you until I receive firm evidence and testimonies from the other students in the club, then maybe I’ll consider your concerns. Deal?”

What you despised most was how well Hyunjae knew and provoked you to get under your skin. He was a raging flame, making your blood boil from both irritation and excitement. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but after nearly six years of banter with Hyunjae, you knew damn well you enjoyed every second of it. It was like a nonstop competition, and you were always on the edge of winning.

Maybe it was also because you were so used to him constantly being above you. He was the president of the student council, the swim team’s captain, and specifically the one who snatched the executive position away from you in the broadcasting team, yet somehow you were still able to compete at his level of arrogance and egotism. 

Even though you may never be able to top him in the foreseeable future, you at least knew how to match his fury—his fire, with your own.

“You’re pathetic.” You took a few steps back to gain some distance while his eyes flickered back up to yours. He bit his lip playfully, his smile only growing even wider.

“Woah, Y/N. Exposing my degradation kink so soon?”

“I-...you- w-what?!” you sputtered, your jaw falling slack as Kevin’s head snapped up, staring at the two of you in disgust.

“Get a room—!”

“I’m going to make sure you get degraded from your position, you freak!”

“Not exactly how that word works, princess, but I’m glad you’re at least passionate.” His cooing made you want to slap the living shit out of him, your eyes protruding from their sockets are you glared. 

“Are you fucking bricked up or something right now—?”

“Hey guys,” a woman’s voice called out. Your heads turned to look at the end of the hallway, catching one of the recreational center’s workers waving in your general direction. She pressed her lips together and smiled, attempting to be as professional and understanding as possible. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but is it okay if you guys turn it down a notch?”

You and Hyunjae both nodded and whispered apologies, feeling like kids who just got scolded for shoving paintbrushes down the drain. Fortunately, the worker’s smile radiated genuine warmth and consideration, providing you some sort of reassurance that you guys weren’t too much of a disturbance (even though you guys totally were).

“You two are the most childish fuckers I know,” Kevin deadpanned, finally shoving his phone away as he switched between looking at you and the man by your side. His eyebrows bunched up.

“And apparently horny too.”

“I would move across the country if it meant I never had to see him again,” you grumbled, striding back to the pile of equipment to pick up your backpack and the bag with all your reporting necessities (boring script, stationary, and a couple of notebooks shared with all the broadcasting students to collect notes and inspiration in). 

“Hello? I’m still here.”

“Look at that. He already misses me.”

“I’m going to hurl,” Kevin unnecessarily announced, and Hyunjae’s face soured.

“Ew.”

“Exactly. That’s how you two make me feel whenever you guys are together.” Kevin got up on his feet and grabbed the wrapper to shove into one of his pockets (no littering, kids) before outstretching his limbs dramatically. 

“I swear I developed back pain from always listening to you guys bicker.”

“Or, hot take,” Hyunjae interjected, “maybe it’s because you’re always sitting with your back arching forward like it belongs in the Arches National Park–”

“Yeah yeah, shut the fuck up.” Kevin waved him off with his hand and rolled his eyes. “I came here to help carry stuff, not listen to your bullshit.”

He picked up the bag that contained the camera and passed it to Hyunjae. He offered to hold one more thing, but with only his backpack and the tripod left, Kevin didn’t see much need for his friend’s assistance. 

Kevin then faced you, his face stern and rid of emotion.

“You too, Y/N,” he stated seriously. “None of this ‘he said this,’ ‘he said that,’ ‘please fuck me’ bullshit from you either.”

You gaped at him, arms wrapped tightly around the crew’s bag.

“Now why the hell do you think—”

“Zip it.”

Without giving you much of an opportunity to continue, Kevin sped off in front of you, ready to leave the building. You couldn’t even look at Hyunjae as heat rushed to your cheeks, struggling to trail after Kevin’s speedy steps.

Despite carrying heavier items, Hyunjae caught up to you with ease. You wanted nothing more than for Hyunjae’s feet to either slow down or speed up tremendously, but of course he purposely chose to walk by your side, attached to you by the hip.

“He sees it,” Hyunjae sing-songed. “Everyone sees it.”

“Sees what?” you snorted, oblivious to what he was indicating.

“That you want me,” he replied nonchalantly.

The moment you two stepped outside the doors of the center, you stopped to face him, trying to confirm what exactly he was implying.

“You can’t be serious.”

Hyunjae, who also stopped with your steps, shrugged.

“You’re the one in denial.”

Realizing that he was serious, you felt every muscle in your body tense up.

“Hyunjae,” you stated firmly. “I have a boyfriend, remember?”

Instead of receiving something witty from Hyunjae like normal, his relaxed facial features suddenly scrambled into one that expressed remote shock. His lips were slightly parted, eyes searching yours for any hint that indicated you were lying or messing around with him, but you were serious.

The aggressive playfulness from earlier had evaporated faster than boiling water, and you watched as he became stilled. Your heart started pounding, anxiety creeping up within you due to not being able to read Hyunjae like you normally do.

“Since when?” he asked. His voice was quiet, his tone firmer, and by now, Kevin was already by his car, too far from the two of you to understand what was going on. Hell, even you could barely understand what was happening.

“Earth to Hyunjae?” you joked, nervously laughing in an attempt to eliminate the newfound tension looming in the atmosphere. “It’s always been Jiwoong, remember?”

For a moment, Hyunjae could feel his mouth drying up. All his thoughts were held captive in his throat, and his lips remained parted as if they weren’t meant to collide at all. He stared at you like you had just teleported in front of him.

“Y/N,” he stated calmly, “he cheated on you.”

Your initial response was to get defensive, claiming that you already knew that because hell, it was your relationship, but then your brain acknowledged the true elephant in the conversation.

“How-...how the hell do you know about that?”

“I- You know word just-…That doesn’t matter. What matters is why in the world—”

“It was a mistake, okay?”

“A mistake?” As Hyunjae’s brows raised, so did his tone. “You know, people—decent people, don’t make mistakes like that.” 

Seeing how Hyunjae was gritting his teeth, how his eyes were locked on yours, built up a foreign frustration within you. Something about the way Hyunjae was behaving felt like he was trying to control you. 

All the rage from before had now returned, yet this time, there was no more leniency from you—not when Hyunjae was being more condescending than he had ever been.

“You know nothing, Hyunjae, so frankly, I really don’t care about what you think about my relationship with my boy-”

“You’re still with him??”

“Look,” you snapped. “Just because you have the luxury of crushing my hopes and dreams on a daily basis, it does not give you the right to dictate what’s wrong or right about my love life and my decisions. Understood?”

And just like how you always are, Hyunjae refused to shut up.

“How is it dictating when it’s common sense to dump a shitty person?” He dropped the bags onto the ground, and not once did he look away from you. “He’s never treated you well either, and you know that—”

“It’s not your decision to make,” you repeated. You could feel the three key elements of creating a fire stir up within you. You had the fuel, the oxygen, and the heat, and Hyunjae was the chemical chain reaction that would set it off. “How dense can you fucking be to not back down?”

“He cheated on you,” he reasserted, and there was a rage in his eyes that you had never once encountered. “He’s done so many shitty things, and he hasn’t changed–”

“Again, none of your fucking business–”

“And I’m pretty sure I saw—”

“I am not going to repeat myself-”

“Can’t you just listen to what I-”

“Drop it.” You were seconds away from yelling at him, ready to unleash all your anger because never once has someone threatened your love life—Jiwoong, the man you considered your soulmate. Your flame had officially engulfed his, and all Hyunjae could do was stare at you in disbelief and disappointment.

Turning to look away, you gazed up into the sky and scoffed, not understanding why tears had begun to pool up in your eyes. At the end of the day, Hyunjae meant nothing to you—you didn’t even consider him a friend.

After moments of experiencing what it was like to be suffocated by a tension so unbearable, you eventually found a way to ground yourself. 

“I can’t blame him, you know,” you whispered, using the back of your hand to wipe away your tears. “We were angry. He just–...he needed an outlet, and at that time, that outlet happened to not be me, okay?”

Hyunjae stared at you, his mouth desperate to say something, anything, to make you see what he sees—a relationship that isn’t meant to be. That you didn’t deserve to be treated this way. Maybe you were no more than an acquaintance to him, but he knew you have always deserved better. 

“He isn’t someone worth fighting for.”

“And that’s none of your business,” you scowled.

“It isn’t right—”

“Stay in your fucking lane, Jae.”

Hyunjae clamped his mouth shut, and the sight of you completely breaking down tore him apart. Possibly it was all the years you spent together growing up, constantly arguing, yet he knew he was always one to look out for you.

You sucked in a cheek, gnawing at it as your chest urged for you to forgive him, to apologize for lashing out without much notice, but in the end, you prioritized your pride over him.

Not only was Hyunjae’s persistence a stab to your heart, but you suspected that Kevin was the one who told him. By spilling your secrets, it was as if Kevin saw the knife that impaled you and yanked it out of your chest, causing you to bleed to your death.

“I’m done with this conversation,” you muttered, dropping the bag in your arms to the ground by his feet. Your plans had changed to you walking home alone, wanting nothing to do with the other two boys for the next hour or so.

When you turned around to walk away, you knew Hyunjae was going to try and say something. You knew him best whenever he was at his worst, so you spun around to face him for the last time that day to cut him off.

“Never fucking cross that line with me again, got it?”

And with that, you left. 

//

Kevin apologized to you the morning after.

He normally drove you to school, and you debated getting into his car when he showed up. Thankfully you chose to do otherwise because the second you stepped inside, Kevin was apologizing profusely. He talked about how anxious he was all night when Hyunjae told him what happened, and he wouldn’t have known what to do if you didn’t forgive him. Obviously you did, and the rest of the car ride was spent with him explaining his side of the story.

According to Kevin, he only told Hyunjae about how you got cheated on because it seemed like Hyunjae already knew. As Kevin recalled the whole scene, you two assessed the signs, such as how Hyunjae didn’t provide any sort of reaction when Kevin dropped the news. In fact, it had seemed like Hyunjae had brought it up to Kevin instead.

Regardless, it became the last of your worries because all that mattered was that you were back to being on good terms with your best friend.

But avoiding Hyunjae felt like lighting a match in the rain. 

It was your agonizing reality for the next two months, and although you could argue that you had gotten closer to your boyfriend during the supposed ‘Hyunjae Drought,’ you were still plagued with him being everywhere around you.

He was in all your classes, and you never truly processed the extent of how involved Hyunjae had always been throughout high school with you. You weren’t on the swim team, but you were stuck with him during meetings for both the broadcasting team and student council. 

Yet it all felt so different.

Unless he was called on, Hyunjae would talk much less unprovoked and would never look at you during meetings. When he would address the entire team, he would glance at you for a split second before looking elsewhere, no longer watching you like a hawk.

You had also gotten quieter because without Hyunjae to banter with, you recognized that you barely had friends in any of those classes either. 

There was no longer a fight between your flames, and you two kept as much distance as possible. You were thankful that there hadn’t been an instance that interrupted that, such as being forced to record more B-roll with him, and you could only hope that the rest of your senior year would remain the same. 

Then you would never have to see him in college.

Now you were back to being the mediocre student that faded into the background. People knew your name at best, but none have ever tried to become your friend aside from Kevin. No matter how involved you tried to get, the closest you were to anyone was a classmate. 

Hyunjae had always overshadowed you too, and for the first time in years, you were detached from his fumes—yet somehow, some way, the smoke from his fire would remain in your lungs, continuing to suffocate you even more than it had before. It didn’t give you that breath of fresh air of new friends or a better life; instead, it helped you realize that you didn’t matter. It was a miracle that you even scored Jiwoong as your boyfriend.

But then that begged the question: why did Hyunjae bother spending his time ridiculing you?

From the very beginning, you had always meant something to him, and you couldn’t pinpoint how or why. When there was no competition in academics, he treated it as if there was. Every time you ranted, he would listen, whether it be about him or something else. Even when you talked about how your chicken from the cafeteria was burnt, he would give you his own before calling you stupid for not noticing until you sat down.

He never shrugged you off like you were nothing or shut you down because your emotions were invalid. He entertained you each time with ease, and most importantly, he knew when to respect your boundaries. Hyunjae was probably the most mindful person you knew and could often tell when you were distressed or needed another form of reaction from him.

He knew when to stop.

Yet when it came to the one instance involving Jiwoong, he crossed the line multiple times. Why?

“Hyunjae isn’t here today.”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t show up for a single class.”

Kevin watched you play with your food with a fork, rolling the cold, barely spherical peas around and into the stale rice.

“That’s not like him,” he replied.

“Yeah.”

“I wonder why.”

“I wonder too.” 

After the driest possible conversation in existence, you sighed and dropped your fork into your tray.

“I need to stop forgetting to pack myself lunch. This shit makes me lose my appetite, I swear. We should call the police and tell them the food they’re serving is illegal and a disgrace to this country.” 

“Keep it away before I lose my appetite too.” 

You didn’t react nor respond to what Kevin said, letting the conversation rot as you pouted at your food. The cafeteria was unusually louder today, making it easier to space out into thought.

Kevin took out his sandwich with a wide grin and started eating, grateful he never had to deal with what the school was feeding thanks to his mom, but eventually his eyes shifted over to you. You were unmoving with your gaze locked onto an empty spot on the table, so after moments of debating between asking you what’s wrong and ignoring you to devour his lunch, he opted to set his sandwich aside and stared straight at you.

“Why are you thinking about him?”

That was enough to garner your attention, your head snapping up to stare at your best friend like he was the craziest person you knew for mentioning Hyunjae, much less suggesting that your mind was wrapped around him.

“What?”

“Hyunjae. With his perfect attendance, a day without him should be a blessing, yet you brought up how he didn’t show up today and then moped harder than anyone I’ve ever seen mope. You should be over the moon, dancing on the tables and stealing people’s food, not-...” Kevin waved a finger at you, “whatever this is. You seem out of it.”

“Well it’s not because of Hyunjae, I’ll tell you that,” you snorted. Your eyes fell back down to your tray, and the more you looked at it, the more nauseous you got. You scrunched your nose. “If anything, it’s probably because of this shit food.”

Kevin rolled his eyes before tearing his sandwich into halves. You perked at the sight and ogled the half Kevin taunted you with. You were about to thank him and take it into your possession before Kevin jerked back his arm, making you whine.

“Throw away your food, then I’ll give you it.”

“Fine,” you grumbled. As Kevin returned to his delicious, most scrumptious, packed lunch you had ever seen, you picked up your tray and walked it to the nearest trash can. As you dropped the whole thing inside, you heard your name being called.

“Y/N!”

You whipped around to check to see who it was and smiled at the sight of Eunseo waving at you. You wouldn’t consider her a good friend, but you knew her well enough since she was the vice president of the student council.

She ran over to you with a stack of paper in her arms, relieved to have caught you. 

“Y/N, hi! I’m so glad I found you. I was scared I wouldn’t because of how packed it is.”

She flashed you her usual glowing smile, and you noticed that she was a bit more giddy than usual, making you question why she was choosing to talk to you in the first place. All your conversations normally took place before, during, and after student council meetings, so this was slightly out of character.

“What’s up?” you asked. As you looked at her, you noticed how her outfit was slightly more put together than it normally was. She had on a cute top that suited her chest perfectly and a skirt that you had never seen her wear. 

“Your outfit’s really cute today.”

“Really?!” Her bright demeanor then faded into concern. “Wait, is it too noticeable or out of the blue? Is it bad?”

“No, no. Not at all!” you reassured. “It’s just the right amount of perfect.”

“Great! God, that means the world coming from you. It’s because!...” She stopped to glance around, making sure that no one was eavesdropping, before taking a step closer to whisper. “It’s because I was finally asked out on a date by my crush!”

She could barely contain her excitement, holding back a squeal with her bottom lip latched between her teeth. Her sunshine-like energy made you grin.

“That’s great! I’m glad you’re making progress.” Your eyebrows pinched as you tried to recall the last time Eunseo had updated you about her crush. “You’ve been pining after him for so long—whoever ‘him’ is, anyway.”

The question of who Eunseo liked had always gone unanswered. She never told anyone, not even the ones who knew her best, but she loved gushing about her mystery crush to everyone she knew. All people really knew, you included, was how down bad she was.

A part of you wondered if it was someone you knew—someone pretty like Juyeon or well-known like…Hyunjae.

“Oh, I wish I could tell you, and maybe I will if things go really well and we become official!” She squealed and hopped in her spot, unable to resist giving you a half-hug with her free arm. “This is so exciting, Y/N!”

“I’m really happy for you.” Your smile was genuine until you thought about why she was looking for you, starting to doubt that she called you over just so she could tell you about her date. 

“I’ll let you know how it goes, swear. But! That aside, I also have something for you.”

You knew it.

Your brows raised, and when you didn’t catch on, she gestured to the papers in her arms with guilt.

“I know this is kind of a dick move, and I’m really really sorry, but I promised to put up fliers for prom today. My date is right after my last class.” Her frown had deepened, and for a split second, you found yourself sympathizing with her because who wanted to let down such a cheerful personality, especially when this was life-changing for her?

“So you want me to do it?”

“Exactly! Please, that would be great. It shouldn’t take too long, too.”

You thought about how you would have to give up an evening of playing on your switch or extra time to study for an upcoming exam, but you knew it was your duty as secretary to help out whenever needed.

Not to mention that it would also make you a decent friend not to hold Eunseo back from her soon-to-be love life despite her poor date planning. If you were in her shoes, you would have wanted her to do the same for you too.

“Sure,” you accepted. “Why not?”

“You’re the best, seriously!” She handed you the fliers as she began to fill you in on the extra details.

“I already told Mr. Barajas that I wasn’t feeling well and that you were going to do it, so he said it all worked out and to not worry about it,” she rambled, happy to give the extra weight (both literally and metaphorically) to you. “I just printed these out, so everything should be perfect to go. Oh, and don’t worry about any extras! Just set them on Barajas’s desk when you’re finished. Hyunjae will also be in 142 with tape ready for you.”

The mention of the forbidden name nearly made every cell in your body halt. 

“What?”

Eunseo tilted her head at you, confused, before finally realizing.

“Oh crap, I forgot! I’m so sorry, I really did forget you guys weren’t on good terms. I hope it’s okay that he’s helping you out. I mean, he’s supposed to, but it was meant for him and me to do it together, not you two, so…God, I’m really sorry Y/N.”

Before you could even react to the newfound information, she continued.

“I really have to go now. Thank you again! I promise I’ll make it up to you!” And with her rosy pink cheeks and a stunning shade of red on her lips, she basically skipped away and waved goodbye to you with a smile, so you reciprocated it with an awkward one of your own. 

When she turned her back, your smile immediately dropped and you sighed heavily.

“Have fun on your date,” you mumbled, your eyes falling to fliers in your arms. As you skimmed the one on top, you noticed it was to promote going to prom while also including a big QR code to vote for who should be your school’s prom king and queen. You expected it since it was the last meeting’s topic of discussion, but what you weren’t aware of was who were listed as nominees.

There were eight names listed under ‘Prom Court,’ and while you expected Hyunjae’s, Eunseo’s, and your boyfriend’s names on it, your jaw nearly hit the ground at the sight of your own. 

//

With every passing class period, your anxiety would kick up a notch.

The dread of talking to the face you had been avoiding for two months engulfed you, and it caused you to develop the urge to ditch your current class to go hunt for Jacob, the student council’s historian. You wanted nothing more than to dump the stack of fliers into his arms, and knowing Jacob, he wouldn’t ask any questions. Hell, you were certain that if you asked him nicely, he would do it for you because of how naturally sweet and endearing he was.

But the guilt of ditching your secretary duties kept picking at your skin, and besides, all you had to do was treat Hyunjae like a colleague. That should be easy, right?

As you suffered through the last few minutes of class and your teacher’s incessant ramblings about the upcoming exam, your thoughts drifted over to what would happen the moment you stepped into room 142.

Hyunjae hadn’t shown up to a single class all day, yet he was expected to set up fliers after school. As your thoughts snowballed, you arrived at the baseless conclusion that maybe Eunseo wasn’t aware that Hyunjae was absent today, therefore someone else (like Jacob) would take over. 

Suddenly, your back had straightened with feigned interest in your teacher’s last few words. Something about Jacob being there instead of Hyunjae had excited you; it felt like you were free and that the universe was listening to your prayers. The gamble of seeing whether it would be Hyunjae or Jacob (or literally anyone else) had your right leg bouncing, eyes on the clock, and when the bell rang, you shot up from your seat, backpack over your shoulders and fliers in your arms, before dashing out of the classroom.

You sped down the hallway to 142, Mrs. Zhang’s room for Chemistry, bug-eyed, before having your delusions crushed at the sight of Hyunjae’s stupidly large height leaning against one of the counters. Your feet stood glued to the ground by the doorway, your eyes locked onto him. 

Covered from head to toe in sweats, Hyunjae was immersed in whatever was on his phone, scrolling through something as his brown curls peeked out from inside his hood. Without any hint of him acknowledging your presence, your shattered hopes slowly began to rebuild.

Maybe if you were quiet enough, you could sneak out with the tape and do everything on your own, avoiding him at all. Actually, scratch that. You didn’t even need the tape. All you had to do was go to another teacher’s room, steal their tape for half an hour, and then return it with ease.

The plan was effortless, and you mentally smacked your forehead for not thinking of it earlier. Right as you were about to execute it, your backpack slammed against the doorframe as you turned on your heels. 

“Nice try.”

You groaned out of embarrassment (and slight pain) and forced yourself to turn around. Hyunjae’s phone was now face down on the counter, and his arms were crossed over his abdomen. His face remained stoic as his eyes met yours, wielding a tension you didn’t recognize.

Now that you could properly look at him, you noticed a few details that you hadn’t before, such as the small tear on his lower lip and the bandaid on his cheekbone. If you looked long enough, you could catch light patches of purple across his skin, and the sight hindered all your thoughts, your brain too occupied with piecing together how he ended up like this. 

“What happened?” you blurted, your gaze shooting up from his lips to his eyes.

Hyunjae staggered at your suddenty, but he managed to keep himself stilled, his brows pinching. 

“What do you mean?”

Even if Hyunjae didn’t mean to, his question became an invitation for your unfiltered thoughts to spill out of your mouth.

“You didn’t show up for any of our classes today,” you began, “but now you’re here? For some stupid fliers? You’re barely dressed properly like you normally are, your hair isn’t straightened, you look pale, Jae, and what’s up with the bruises or the bandaid on your cheek–”

“Are you seriously psychoanalyzing me?” he asked with a scoff. There was no humor in his tone. Instead, it looked as if he was irritated, perhaps even more than you were. 

Hyunjae barely met your eyes, and his arms closed himself off from you. 

“What–?”

“You’re evaluating me like I’m some sort of lab project, Y/N.”

“No, no I’m not,” you rejected. “I’m just saying things are a little off.” You kept your eyes firm on his, even as he pushed himself off the counter with his phone and made his way over to you. “And you know, you really can’t blame me for being somewhat worried when one, you don’t show up, and two, you look like a whole mess—”

“Just hand over the fliers—” he interrupted, gritting his teeth as he outstretched his arm in your direction. You dodged him by turning your body 180 degrees and stood your ground.

“What happened?” you repeated, this time more firmly.

Hyunjae looked at you, a blank expression on his face, before turning back around to grab the roll of tape left on the teacher’s desk. When he returned, he shoved it into your arms while simultaneously stealing half the stack. You protested with an exclaimed ‘Hey!’ yet he didn’t bat an eye and skimmed over the contents of the flier on top.

Bothered by his lack of response, you frowned and made sure to block the doorway, refusing to let him leave until you received answers.

“Why are you acting like this? Pretending that I’m not even—”

“I’ll do upstairs, you do downstairs,” he muttered.

“Did you get into a fight? Why weren’t you here today? Why are you here now—”

“You’d think you’d know,” he finally answered, pushing past you like you weighed none less than a feather.

Your brain had fully malfunctioned at that point, unable to decipher what he meant as Hyunjae walked off to the nearest staircase. As his footsteps echoed down the hall, you thought about what he was implying yet came to no resolution. Did he assume that you were caught up in your school’s latest gossip? Or that you were the main admin for his biggest fan page on Instagram?

The idea made you snort, and you scowled bitterly at his childish attitude. It wasn’t like you were a complete stranger intruding on his personal life—hell, you felt like you deserved an explanation because of how you were forced to do this with him. 

As you stormed off past the remaining lingering students to the nearest bulletin board, you questioned how you were going to do this on your own. 

You had put up fliers countless times in the past few years yet never alone. Luckily, you had a general idea of where the fliers should go when it came to the school’s hallways, but as you approached your first destination, you struggled with ripping off pieces of tape while holding the stack at the same time. It would’ve been easier with a partner by your side, one who either did the tape ripping or placing of the fliers, but you weren’t desperate enough to fall into the role of a helpless princess in need of her pretty (useless) prince. 

After some trial and error, you found a method that consisted of setting the stack on the ground occasionally so you could rip off pieces of tape. Then you would slap said pieces of tape onto your wrist, having them readily available as you put up a few fliers at a time.

Although slightly time-consuming, it was working well and kept you at a steady pace until you heard crashing footsteps behind you from afar. Without paying any mind to it, you bit back your curiosity in order to focus on the wall in front of you, but then you made the mistake of taking a step back, bumping into the person who was sprinting. 

You lost your balance and fell forward before catching yourself shortly after. However, the fliers had already flown out of your arms, scattering across and down the long hallway.

Ready to curse out the offender for running down the hallway, you were surprised when you saw that it was Eunseo behind you, pouring out apologies while a loopy grin was smacked onto her face.

You steadied your anger and told her it was okay, getting down onto your knees to collect all the fliers. Her ‘sorry’s could only go so far with her smeared lipstick, a dazed gaze, and her hair holding the mold to someone else’s (presumably her crush’s) hands in them, but you still excused her, knowing that she was over the moon right now.

“It’s okay, Eunseo, I promise.” You forced out a chuckle as you crawled to scavenge for the ones that flew a few feet away.

“I really didn’t mean to,” she pouted, but it was shortly followed up with bubbly giggles. “God, Y/N, can you believe this? Oh, it’s going so well! I think I love him, I do.”

“Good for you,” you grumbled, hoping that she didn’t hear it as you continued to move down the hallway, hating how far the fliers had escaped from you. You also hated how she just stood there without intent on helping you at all. 

“I have to really go now. Got volleyball practice soon, but I think I’m seeing him tomorrow too!” She waved you goodbye.

And just like that, she continued running off. 

You stared at how you were only able to collect half the mess, hating how Eunseo had somehow managed to delay you even further from being in the comfort of your bed. You were also salty at how her date was taking place at the school, wishing she could’ve dragged him around while she taped stuff up before getting dick-downed of some sort.

Deciding that she and her business weren’t worth your time, you continued to pick everything up as quickly as you could, wanting nothing more than to go home.

When you finally finished collecting every last flier, you were prepared to get back into the groove of things before feeling your phone vibrate in the side pocket of your backpack. Wondering if it was something important, you took it out and beamed at the idea of it being a new message from Jiwoong.

Dating him felt like falling in love with him all over again whenever he texted. Your heart would pound in your chest when you thought about him and explode whenever he gave you his attention and time. You were addicted to him, especially knowing that he was yours after liking him since middle school.

So to say you were disappointed was far worse than an understatement. It was from a number you hadn’t saved yet always recognized and undoubtedly remembered by heart.

Of course it was Hyunjae.

You had Hyunjae’s phone number due to previous class projects and group chats, but you had never once saved it because you thought he was undeserving of being a contact in your phone. Nonetheless, with how the years have passed and how much his number infiltrates every group chat you were in, it was only fair that your brain had unintentionally memorized all ten digits.

The message he sent consisted of him saying that he was done with the fliers, and you rolled your eyes. Even after the way he treated you earlier, he still chose to let you know and brag about how fast he was. 

You shoved your phone away vigorously, ready to return to your slapping-fliers-on-walls duty, before perking at the sound of footsteps behind you once more.

Automatically assuming it was Eunseo or another student staying after for a club or sport, you were stunned when you heard his voice. 

“You’re not even halfway yet?”

In no fucking universe are you turning around; not for him.

“Go gloat somewhere else,” you snapped. The next flier you taped up was nearly slammed onto the wall, but Hyunjae was left unphased by your sudden outburst. He stood next to you and remained quiet, even when you left to place the next flier a few feet away on the opposite wall.

When he didn’t follow, you sighed out of relief, yet somehow you couldn’t help but peek at him, eyeing his hands that were tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. He was staring straight at the lopsided flier you had put up, and when you decided you had enough of peering at him, he was back by your side.

 “What are you doing?” you grumbled. He was the one who pushed you away, yet now here he was, glued to your side like how he was two months ago. 

“You’re taking too long.”

“I had a mishap,” you explained, “but that’s none of your concern.” The lines on your forehead bunched up, and you waved him off, bending down to place the stack on the ground. Figuring it wasn’t weird at all, you continued your method of ripping off pieces of tape and slapping it onto your wrist.

And Hyunjae was totally judging.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Just go home.”

Despite being on the ground and sitting on your heels, you could physically feel the heat on the back of your head due to his eyes burning a hole into your skull, and for a split second, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I can do it myself,” you explained. 

“What are you even doing?” 

“Can you just go?” You picked up the stack once again as you rose to your feet, doing your best to avoid whatever look was on Hyunjae’s face. He was probably stifling a laugh or keeping his expression smug, but when you did cave and peek, his face was still solemn, his eyes on your wrist with concern.

“You’re struggling.”

“Thank you for your observation, Mr. Obvious,” you retorted.

“Let me do it.”

Taken aback, you whipped your head over to his direction.

“You’re kidding.”

“You don’t even want to be here,” he reasoned through gritted teeth. “Just go, and you can thank me later.”

“Thank you?!” Appalled at his audacity, you couldn’t help but laugh out of disbelief. “Seriously, Hyunjae? You want me to thank you for stealing my job? Again? You can’t be fucking serious.”

“Because you can’t take any criticism ever, or in this case, any form of help, so just let me do it.”

Hyunjae was eerily calm about the whole ordeal, his energy far from matching yours.

“I do take help,” you refuted. “I just don’t take yours, and neither do I need it, too.”

“You’re so goddamn stubborn.” And within a blink of an eye, he had managed to snatch the stack of fliers from you. 

“Hey!” you yelled, feeling as if it was deja vu from earlier (you really needed to step up your defense), and reached out to take them back, but he was quick to turn his body, shielding them from you.

“Give me the tape and go,” he urged, emotionless. The Hyunjae in front of you now was someone you truly didn’t recognize because the Hyunjae you knew would have made fun of you and held the fliers above your head, teasing you for being so weak.

Yet he stood still, creating a barrier between you and the duty that was forced upon you. You didn’t want to be here anyway, yet you were so insistent on making sure Hyunjae wasn’t stealing your work again. You weren’t incapable, and you hated how he always managed to be faster.

Even now, he was miles away from being playful with you, and yet he still had a way to shove it in your face.

“Hyunjae, I swear—”

“Give me the tape, and you can run off to your little boyfriend waiting for you by the entrance.” 

Your lips parted at his words, eyes wide as you worked to comprehend his words. You questioned how he knew about Jiwoong’s whereabouts, how he knew that Jiwoong was waiting and that you didn’t, but knowing that he was serious, you reluctantly gave up and dropped the roll of tape on the ground, forcing him to pick it up. 

You were sick of constantly arguing with him, and even if he was lying about Jiwoong, at least you would be away from Hyunjae. There was no point in fighting for your dignity anymore, not when Hyunjae’s narcissism was insufferable.

By walking away with heavy and quick strides, you hoped he felt humiliated by how poorly he was treating you—how he had always treated you like this.

As much as you wanted it to be true, you hoped Hyunjae was lying just so you had more evidence against his self-absorbed and shitty personality, but alas, you found Jiwoong standing precisely where Hyunjae said he was.

Regardless, all stress and frustrations had lifted from your being, and you called out to your boyfriend with a smile that would make your cheeks ache in minutes. 

“Woong!” You waved your hands with a small bounce in your steps as you rushed over to him.

Your boyfriend’s head shot up, surprised to see you. His utter shock quickly switches to one of sheer happiness, tucking his device away before opening his arms for you.

“Hey, baby!”

You tossed yourself into his embrace, hugging him tight after pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“What are you doing here?” With your face in his neck, your voice came out muffled, and it made Jiwoong laugh.

“Had to stay after to discuss my grades with a teacher, then I decided to stay back a bit for you.” He cooed and kissed the top of your head, holding you incredibly close. When you pulled back, his hands had moved from behind your backpack to your hips instead, holding them as you stared up at him.

“You were waiting for me?” you asked, eyes wide with stars in them.

“Of course I was, baby.” 

You were radiating, feeling happier than ever. The last time you saw Jiwoong was a week ago, and with your clashing schedules, you two very rarely get the opportunity to make plans. Your hands rested atop his shoulders, and when he pulled you in for a kiss, you smiled.

But then it fell.

Something felt off.

//

If someone were to inquire Hyunjae about who his heart belonged to, your name would be his answer—whether he intended to say it or not. 

Hyunjae had always been considered the school’s favorite. His intelligence may not be up to par with others, but his authority was what made him a prominent member of your high school. Some blame it on his looks, but most were aware enough to know that wasn’t the case.

Hyunjae knew how to think on his feet, and his problem-solving skills outwitted everyone within his grade level. Reaching tranquillity had never been an issue for him, allowing him to be levelheaded while making decisions. He emitted an aura that made classmates truly listen to him and the ideas he shared, and overall, it made him a great contender to lead every group and organization he was in. 

Additionally, Hyunjae’s heart was what won over most people. His lack of vulnerability seemed to be his only flaw, but it was an obstacle he could overlook when it came to empathizing with others. By actively being involved in the community through volunteering and holding fundraisers, everyone could recognize Hyunjae’s devotion to hope for humanity. 

All these traits were what led Hyunjae up onto the pedestal and the public eye, a household name for all families in the district. Titles and awards naturally gravitated towards him throughout the years, resulting in him winning the vote as president of your school’s student council and enough scholarships to provide him a full ride at most universities.

It was safe to say that competition against Lee Hyunjae was sparse, and you were no different. 

Your grades would teeter around his standard, hence how you two collectively ended up in the same classes, but aside from that, you had nothing else that could compare to what he was capable of.

Except for one thing; your fury.

There was an inferno inside you at all times, and instead of your body shielding off your heart with steel, people around you would come to find out that your heart was the reason for that large blaze of fire, possessing a passion unlike any other. 

Hyunjae had never once seen a peer with as much fight as you. It was a trait only you encapsulated, one that you weren’t afraid to express. You stood up for yourself and your beliefs, and it was easy to pick fights with him when he had been troubling you from the very moment you two were assigned to sit next to each other in seventh-grade algebra. 

Hyunjae yearned for you ever since, his only want being your attention. You gave him the drive to succeed in high school and thrive in his senior year, and he was positive that he wouldn’t be doing this well without a reason to show off in front of you. He wanted your praise, your acknowledgment, but he loved the chase the most. 

Unfortunately, that was the exact reason he ended up here.

The chase was what made him fall for every part of you, wanting nothing more than your lips on his and the ability to have you by his side at all times, but it was also what landed you with your current boyfriend.

It was like his life was a video game with God giving him the hardest difficulty setting by making sure you were obsessed with someone undeserving of all that he wanted. There wasn’t even a chance of you two possibly being friends in your eyes. Meanwhile, Hyunjae would argue that you two had more chemistry than any other couple in your class, but that hope was crushed, shredded, and stomped on when he found out you still devoted your love to Jiwoong.

Regardless, it didn’t change who you were as a person. Your heart was still just as large and beautiful, and your drive to succeed hadn’t lessened. The bickering never faltered, and it wasn’t like Hyunjae was opposed whenever you expressed disgust at the thought of him being turned on because of you (and that was because he found the idea of you thinking about him hot—yes, his expectations were that low). 

So it was why after two months of almost zero to no contact, you treating him as if those months didn’t exist created the largest dilemma he had ever faced. He spent the next week thinking about your intentions and why you seemed to care so much, specifically right after when Hyunjae had willed himself to believe that he meant jackshit to you. You effortlessly toyed with his heart, leaving him in everlasting misery, while you seemed to do completely fine.

What was a typical and ideal lifestyle for you was a nightmare and tormenting hellhole for Hyunjae. He didn’t just crave the warmth and comfort from your undying flames.

He wanted to burn.

Insanity engulfed him on the days spent without you, leaving him to wonder why you had to make things extensively worse by pointing out his absence or how he had put less effort into his hair. Why did it seem like the concern you expressed was genuine? Why pretend that you cared for him as much as he cared for you?

He was going insane—so insane that he drove to a college party with three other friends in his sedan on a Wednesday night. 

It was being held by a fraternity he and his friends were far more than familiar with thanks to Jongin, an upperclassman he met in his sophomore year and remained friends with since then. The beginning of the senior year marked the origin of parties and hook-ups in weak sporadic attempts to get over you. 

At this rate, Hyunjae could argue that he was more experienced than half of the current college freshmen class. Getting girls in bed was the easiest part; the hardest part was forgetting about you. From what was a method created to move on from you became one that prepared him for when you wanted sex with him. 

But with your constant longing for Jiwoong, Hyunjae made sure that this party would be different.

Although accustomed to having sex with various women, Hyunjae had never been one to drink. This was a fact about him that raised brows, specifically Jongin’s when he first tried urging Hyunjae with a drink, but tonight he vowed to change that. He was normally their designated driver, but when Hyunjae informed Sangyeon of his plan, the elder was more than delighted to remain sober so Hyunjae could get a taste of alcohol.

“Hey, man! It’s about time!” Jongin exclaimed the instant he found out about Hyunjae’s willingness to drink, pulling a fresh bottle out of the cooler specifically for his friend.

“That’s what I told him!” Sangyeon projected his voice over the music, giving Hyunjae a supportive pat on the back.

Hyunjae rolled his eyes at his friends’ remarks and thanked Jongin for the beer, hanging around by the counter as the three conversed and caught up. The two laughed at the way Hyunjae’s face scrunched up at the taste, Sangyeon shoving him lightly with the claim that Hyunjae was being overdramatic. 

With his earlier mindless decision of tossing on a mesh long-sleeve shirt over his black tank top, Hyunjae had attracted another partygoer by his side momentarily after his first sip. She wrapped her arms around one of his and inserted herself into the conversation with hopes of getting Hyunjae in bed by the end of the night, and crazily enough, he considered it for a moment before feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket.

Normally it would be something he’d ignore, but it remained persistent, signifying that he was receiving a call. He didn’t know who would be calling at this hour—well, aside from Minghao and his usual complaints about Hyunjae partying as a high schooler on a school night. 

After setting the glass down on the counter to grab his phone, any urgency to intoxicate himself as quickly as possible vanished the very second he saw your name glowing on his screen. With an awkward retraction of his arm and a forced cough, Hyunjae excused himself and answered the call.

“Hello?”

With music pounding inside his ear canals, it was expected that he couldn’t hear anything you were saying. He navigated through various crowds to reach the entrance of the house, his heart replicating the booming vibrations from the loudspeakers as he prayed that you wouldn’t hang up on him.

“Okay, I…I should be free now,” he stammered after stepping outside. The sudden stillness of Mother Nature was a drastic change from the party scene, coercing him to focus on his racing heartbeat and the anxiety accumulating in his tightening chest. He was breathing heavily, both from pushing through people in a rush and also because of you. 

You never failed to render him weak and helpless, leaving him like a puppy longing for their owner’s guidance.

There was a silence, but he could hear your gentle breaths hitting your phone.

“I need a ride.”

Hyunjae blinked, his body tensing up, as the many thoughts in his brain scrambled to make meaning of what you meant. However, it didn’t matter because you hung up shortly after, leaving him alone to revel in your words.

Your bluntness and suddenty made Hyunjae malfunction, his thoughts leading him to question if he had even heard you correctly. Rarely did you ever reach out to him, and what could you need him for? Especially after lashing out at him and ignoring him for two months? Of course, there was that one day a week ago when you two were forced to talk together, the day he was given a one-day suspension, but you two returned to treating each other like strangers like it was natural.

He stared at his phone in hopes of receiving more information, that you’d perhaps call again to reconfirm or say you had the wrong number. He felt like he was dreaming—that the person he had wanted for so long needed him for once, but he couldn’t help but also believe that this may be the beginning of another nightmare. 

But it was you, and Hyunjae was willing to risk it.

After checking his call logs to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, he rushed back into the fraternity house, thankful he didn’t proceed with drinking any more than he did. 

He found everyone exactly where he had left them (the girl included) and announced his departure. The girl made sure Hyunjae knew how disappointed she was, but that was his last concern as he grabbed the beer bottle and handed it to Sangyeon, giving him a pat on the back.

“Drink up and find an Uber.”

“No fucking way you’re leaving us this soon, man.” Jongin shook his head in disapproval, his forearms resting against the countertop.

“Another time, I promise, yeah?” Hyunjae started walking away, waving to them as his heart continued to thrum in his chest.

“He’s lying,” Sangyeon snorted, taking a swig before bidding Hyunjae a bitter goodbye. “You owe me!"

Hyunjae ran out of the house, his legs making quick and long strides as he ran to his parked car down the block. His newfound adrenaline made him think about what he was sacrificing to be with you. Was leaving the party and betraying his friends worth spending even a second with you? What if you were asking him to drive you and your boyfriend somewhere? Could his heart even deal with being used like that?

But as much as Hyunjae hated it, he knew he was making the right choice. The self-respect he had for himself was buried six feet deep beneath the surface of the earth when it came to you. 

God, he really hoped he wasn’t hallucinating.

For a split second, Hyunjae truly debated what he was doing after getting into his car. He was already driving, but he didn’t know where to go. Luckily, it didn’t take you long to send him a text with your location, and it was a place he was familiar with. 

It was a park that he often frequented as a kid since it resided by his old neighborhood, and he was thankful he knew exactly where to go because he knew he would’ve definitely crashed the car while pulling up your location on his GPS. Hyunjae was doubtful it was the alcohol in his system making his fingers shake and his mind uneasy. He blamed you for his hysteria, one that had developed over years of endless longing. 

Luckily the drive wasn’t long thanks to the roads being mainly void of other vehicles (and maybe he did speed a few times, but he considered it justified). Before pulling into the parking lot, he spotted a lone figure curled up on a nearby bench. A small weight had been lifted off of him, relieved it was just you, and he parked aimlessly while his eyes rested on you.

You seemed unphased by his added presence, your arms unmoving as they stayed wrapped around your legs. The bench you were sitting in was facing away from the parking lot, but with his headlights illuminating the view in front of you, you certainly had to know he was there. 

In an ideal world, Hyunjae would leave his car, join you by your side, and, if he was lucky, he’d pull you into his arms and hold you close against his chest. He wanted to be there for you in whatever way he could, but he ended up being a deer in headlights, too afraid to make the wrong move and lose you again.

He sat there for a minute, watching you, and as soon as he received the confidence to reach for the handle of his door, you were up on your feet. His fingers paused midair as he traced your movements, his arm eventually falling to his side as you approach his car. 

Despite how slow his mind was working, Hyunjae knew to unlock the car right as you opened it (he would’ve died out of embarrassment if he had forgotten), and neither of you greeted the other.

Without any explanation from you, Hyunjae refrained from staring at you like he normally would, but your outfit made it incredibly difficult. It wasn’t much, just an oversized long-sleeved shirt that reached your thighs, but it was far from the usual clothes he’d seen you wear, like jeans and a nice-fitting blouse. For a moment, he believed you had no pants on, but then he knocked some sense into himself, realizing that you were probably wearing shorts that were hidden.

While Hyunjae attempted to keep his composure and respect your boundaries, you were eyeing him shamelessly, once again analyzing every detail about him. Beads of sweat pooled up on the back of his neck, and his hair was straightened yet fuzzy. As your eyes trailed downwards, you noticed how the mesh hugged his biceps, catching every crease that defined his muscles. He was quiet, his index finger resting against his lips. 

Where did he even come from?

And why was he so quick to listen?

You held back your tongue from dumping out your thoughts, knowing your questions would end up unanswered like before. Your body instinctively rested against the divot between the car door and your seat, keeping your distance from Hyunjae. He was meant to be a stranger, perhaps someone you loathed, yet there was an odd comfort that encased you from him just sharing the same air as you.

You cleared your throat, turning your head to look away when he flinched and snapped his gaze towards you.

“Drive.”

Your demand was no louder than a whisper, but Hyunjae picked it up effortlessly and was already backing out.

“Where to?”

“Anywhere.” Hyunjae raised a brow at your answer, and you buried yourself further into his seat, directing your gaze out the door. “Just-...anywhere, Jae.”

The nickname had his throat tightening and his chest leaping, nodding in your direction as he drove on autopilot. With no destination in mind, he strolled through familiar roads, his fingers tapping against the wheel. 

You stayed silent, creating a tension that was unbearably thick, yet none of you felt the need to leave; neither of you wanted to leave the other, even if it meant having to deal with the looming elephant in the room (or in this case, Hyunjae’s car).

After spotting the recreational center from afar and its empty parking lot, he instinctively pulled in. There wasn’t a proper explanation for why he decided it’d make a great destination, especially when it was the place that created a rift in your relationship with him, but it felt right.

It was empty, open, and serene—a perfect place to stay as the moon shined.

Hyunjae stepped out of the car after parking in the middle of it, and when you didn’t follow, he moved to your side and opened the door. He was hesitant but took the risk of offering his hand to you, a warm, nervous smile on his face. He wanted you to know he was there to listen, to be there for you, because, Lord, he would hand you the world if he could.

“I’m not in the mood for walking,” you mumbled, but Hyunjae shook his head.

“We’re not going to walk, I promise.”

Your eyes flickered up to his briefly, skeptical of what he had planned, but ultimately caved. You ignored his hand, and he pulled it back with regret. When you stood there, your eyes on the sky, he closed the door behind you and guided you to the hood of his car.

Without a second thought, he sat on top of it and gestured for you to do the same.

“I sit here all the time. Helps me think.” He leaned back against his windshield, his hands holding the back of his head as he kept his eyes on the sky. When you didn’t move, he started to feel stupid, wondering if you two were better off in the car, but then you joined him. 

You copied his position, staring upwards as your hands rested over your abdomen. 

Hyunjae opted to keep to himself, deciding that he didn’t want to make this worse for the two of you. Instead, he fixated his thoughts on the stars in the sky.

There were only a few, but it was a rare sight due to the constant air pollution in your city, so he considered it a miracle. You, on the other hand, were spacing out in thought, and Hyunjae could tell through his occasional peeks. Without much control, his eyes started tracing down your arms. They then landed on where the hem of your shirt rested, now looking at your bare thighs.

Feeling as if he just reverted back to being the shyest virgin in the country, he gulped and immediately looked elsewhere, trying to get you off his mind despite you being right next to him. His racing heart was all that he could hear, and now he wondered if you could hear it too—if you knew how much you affected him.

And your voice broke the silence.

“How long have you known?”

Okay, maybe his brain did fall out of his skull because Hyunjae had no idea what you were talking about. He turned his head and caught how you stared up at the sky. Your eyes were glossy, holding the reflections of the whole galaxy within them. They sparkled, and for a beat, Hyunjae had forgotten your question, too infatuated with your beauty. 

His silence resulted in you turning your head, gaze meeting his, and that was when he noticed the tears.

“About Jiwoong and Eunseo.”

Your light, your flames, his burning desire; all were gone in a flash.

Your voice was delicate, and Hyunjae knew that with one move, he could break you.

Directing his gaze heavenward, Hyunjae sighed and brought his arms down to rest over his chest. Somehow he was able to feel all the pain you were experiencing, his heart twisting while his stomach churned and sloshed around in his body. He thought about how to respond as he chewed on the inside of his lip, questioning if he should answer at all to avoid hurting you.

But you asked, and as always, Hyunjae delivered.

“I don’t think I ever really knew until last week,” he explained, “but I could always tell.” Suddenly, the fight from a week ago had resurrected, and Hyunjae was forced to relive it all.

The hallways were empty when Hyunjae left the broadcasting room, a backpack strap slung over his shoulder while the other dangled behind him. He was in the middle of scrolling through his emails when he picked up on the sound of Jiwoong’s voice around the corner. 

His footsteps halted, and Hyunjae caught Jiwoong’s fatal words.

“How does tomorrow sound?”

Eunseo’s squeals followed after, and Hyunjae stood motionless.

At first, Hyunjae had no thoughts circulating in his brain, but after hearing their lips collide, he started coming up with solutions, such as interrupting or taking a video to send to you. Unfortunately, before he could act on either of them, he heard footsteps dashing off, practically skipping, as the two bidded one another goodbye. 

Hyunjae couldn’t pinpoint the reasoning behind his upcoming actions, but he knew how to describe how he felt. 

Anger was the first and only emotion to surge up within him, his fingers instinctively balling up into fists. His muscles had tightened while a forest fire ran rampant through his veins, causing his blood to boil. 

Then with quick strides, Hyunjae shoved his phone away and made a sharp turn around the corner, tossing his backpack on the ground after spotting Jiwoong against the lockers. The latter had a dazed look on his face, his lips curled into a smirk as he typed away on his phone, but that was changed once he looked up at the sound of Hyunjae’s backpack crashing against the ground in front of him.

There wasn’t a second in between Jiwoong’s face of surprise and Hyunjae’s arm being raised, and before Jiwoong could react, Hyunjae’s fist had slammed into his jaw. 

It was a blur from there, but Hyunjae knew he had won even after authorities dragged him off Jiwoong’s body. He had received a few jabs in return, but it was nothing compared to the black eye Hyunjae gave him.

The fact that Jiwoong managed to cover it up with makeup the day after was a miracle, and no one in the school knew about the fight since it happened after school. Hyunjae wanted it to stay that way, but a selfish, cruel part of him wished that everyone knew how sick your boyfriend was.

Well, now he was unsure if he was still your boyfriend. 

Hyunjae turned his head back towards you, his cheek meeting the cold metal of his car.

You pursed your lips at his response and nodded slowly. If it were any other day, you wouldn’t have believed him. There was no universe where you’d choose to listen to Hyunjae over Jiwoong, but after a week of investigating and getting your head out of your ass, you found out on your own terms, and all the pieces made sense.

“I didn’t mean to.”

Hyunjae’s voice jerked you out of your thoughts, and as you adjusted to look back at him, you were surprised to still find him staring at you.

“I’m not a violent person, Y/N,” he whispered, an enduring hope lingering in his eyes. He wanted you to believe him, and for once, you did; you truly understood the man you hated most.

“I know, Jae.”

Hyunjae eased at your words, and the two of you fell back into a more comfortable yet aching silence. His fingers drummed against his abdomen, and after a while, he got sick of looking at the same four stars, so he closed his eyes, focusing on enjoying the light breeze instead. His heart was still racing, but it was less alarming. Regardless, he hated knowing that he potentially contributed to how much you were hurting right now.

Maybe if he had done something to prevent it earlier, whether it be telling you as soon as he found out or keeping completely out of your business so you could live in bliss, or, if he wasn’t so scared, he could’ve asked you to be his far before Jiwoong had. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed much, but Hyunjae would never know since he never tried, and now he was going to beat himself over it because now you’re devastated over losing your boyfriend and it was potentially his faul—

You laughed.

Hyunjae snapped his head towards you, his brows raised at your sudden change in mood—but it wasn’t the type of laugh he expected. Your laugh was one filled with pain, and he watched you shake your head, trying to refuse the tears that were rapidly welling up in your eyes once more. You sniffed and wiped the tears away with the back of your hand, choosing to look in the opposite direction because the last thing you wanted was for Hyunjae to see you vulnerable.

“It’s stupid,” you murmured. “This entire thing is stupid. I’m so fucking dumb.”

His lips parted to interject, to tell you that you were, in fact, ‘not dumb,’ but he clamped his mouth shut, knowing that his words probably wouldn’t help. From what he’d learned in the past, you liked it least when he tried telling you otherwise, no matter the situation. 

“I should’ve known. I did know. The whole world knew. Even you knew, but it makes me think, was Eunseo just flocking around, flaunting to everyone that she had a crush on my boyfriend and managed to win him over? I just—I…I don’t know-...” You paused to catch your breath, beginning to choke on your tears as your chest shook, “I don’t know what I did wrong, you know?”

You shut your eyes, allowing the pain to engulf you. You knew fully well that your punishment was to deal with the pain, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it—that you deserved none of this. Why was this a penalty for being in love?

It was humiliating having everyone witness the reality you shielded from yourself, choosing hope and love over the truth. 

“I just never felt more stupid in my life, and I feel even more stupid knowing that I still love him.”

Hyunjae sucked in his lips, gnawing on them as he bit back all his feelings, from his brain shredding to his heart weeping.

“I love him so much that I would let him do it to me all over again because I keep thinking he’d be better. I know he can be better, so why-...It’s just- Why do I do this to myself?”

Tears cascaded down your cheeks, each one leaving behind a trail for others to fall. They started pouring out of you rapidly, soon sobbing at the heart-wrenching pain of being betrayed by everyone in your life, Hyunjae included, because why, out of everyone, was he here for you when he should be the last person who cared?

You always wanted Hyunjae to be the antagonist of your life story, to have him as your biggest enemy and threat, so why was everyone else but him hurting you? Why was the villain of your fantasy taking the role of your knight in shining armor?

And yet, as much as it pained Hyunjae to process all your emotions, his mind wasn’t running correctly; he had you alone for the first time in months. He wanted nothing more than to pull you in his arms and whisper words of comfort in your ears, knowing you deserved it more than anyone, but he also wanted to shake you awake and slap you out of your misery, praying that you’d forget about Jiwoong; that right now, you being vulnerable was his chance to swoop in, to set whatever you wanted him to into flames, as long as if it meant you’d end up okay. 

You sat up because if you lied down any longer, you would’ve started drowning in your own tears. Your sleeves were soaked, and he sat up alongside you, figuring that he should do something about it.

Hyunjae got back onto his feet and stood in front of you. He barely knew what he was doing, but that didn’t stop him from replacing your sleeves with his cold, clammy hands over your cheeks. There wasn’t a time that Hyunjae could recall where he had been this gentle with someone, and when you didn’t push him away, he tilted your head up to look at him.

Even with tears running down your cheeks, you looked angelic as ever. 

Each droplet mirrored a star from the sky, and your eyes sparkled as they stayed locked on his.

“Take me,” you whispered, and Hyunjae’s whole world stopped. 

“...What?” Hyunjae had only intended to wipe your tears away with the pads of his hands, perhaps whisper something along the lines of him being here for you for the night (and the rest of his life, let’s be honest), yet your first words were—no, he had to have been hallucinating.

Your hands trembled as they reached for his wrist, and although you were severely broken, the grip your fingers created was firm.

“Please.”

Like a moth to a flame, Hyunjae admired how pretty you looked, your lips plump and eyes wide, and he wanted nothing more than to take you into his backseat and treat you the way he’d always wanted to, especially after hearing your pleas, but he knew better. You both knew better. 

“What exactly are you implying?” he asked, feeling like you had just inhaled all his oxygen and left him breathless. 

You released his wrist and opted to hold onto his sleeve, tugging on it as you tried to get him to understand you.

“I want it to hurt, Jaehyun.”

Your tears were gone, and there was a hint of dominance in your tone that would’ve had him dropped to his knees in front of you. You were also one of the very few who resorted to calling him Jae, and now his actual name. He favored Hyunjae, but after hearing ‘Jaehyun’ from your lips, his preference had completely made a turnaround. 

But Hyunjae worked to collect his thoughts, fully aware that this was wrong and he’d have to be the bigger person here. As much as he hated himself for giving up the perfect opportunity to have the girl of his dreams, he couldn’t ignore the large concern over your current mental state.

“You’re not thinking straight, Y/N,” he reasoned softly, his fingers reaching up to brush your hair out of your face, and for a second, Hyunjae swore he felt the alcohol kicking in—or perhaps it was you instead. The thought of being able to have you right now, to touch you and press his hands over your skin, to have you as his for just this night, was so intoxicating that he was seconds away from foaming at the mouth.

“I don’t need to think straight. I don’t want to think at all.”

Everything felt hotter and tighter, but he kept his composure, though with his eyes dropping to your begging lips and then your delicate fingers, he knew he was beginning to lose whatever was left of his sanity. 

But he also knew you were using him; you had to be. There was no other explanation. It was only minutes ago when you professed how you continued to feel about Jiwoong—that your heart still belonged to him, and Hyunjae was allowed nowhere near it. He was your backup, your second option, yet that happened to be better than nothing, right?

Especially when he could have you right here, right now. 

“You’re using me.”

Your expression didn’t falter.

“Then say no. Make us go back into your car and drive me home.” Your hand dropped from holding onto his sleeve but that was so you could wrap your arms around his neck, slowly bringing yourself closer to him. His cheeks were flushed as his mind flooded with possibilities of what could happen. Never had you ever wanted him, and he’d been dreaming of a moment like this for years. Your tear-stained cheeks, your pouty red lips—he wanted all of you.

“But you won’t,” you whispered, your breath hitting his skin. Your eyes landed on his lips, now craving him as much as he craved you. You needed a release, an outlet, to justify Jiwoong being better than Hyunjae. Hyunjae was worse in every way possible, and you wanted him to prove that to you. “You’d do anything I’d say, wouldn’t you?”

“What makes you say that?” Little did you know Hyunjae was crumbling inside, completely melting as his fingers grew weak at the idea of your lips on his. His hands, although wary, traveled to your waist, feeling your curves before trailing his hands down to your hips to grip them.

“You love me, don’t you?”

His heart stuttered, all words caught up in his throat, but he knew there was no defending himself—not when he was practically drooling at every move you made; he was hyperaware of the hand playing with the hair on his nape, the way your lips nearly hovered over his, and how your tears glistened under the moonlight.

His entire existence was confirmation of your words, and you knew it.

“You’d do anything for me, Jae. What’s stopping you now?”

There was a stillness as you two stared at one another. He swallowed and pulled slightly back.

He knew better.

“You don’t want me.” He was brokenhearted, a part of him understanding that you’d never be his, yet he wanted you in so many ways, wishing to have your mewls fill his ears and the smell of sex staining his clothes. The bulge in his pants was forming and pressing up against the tight confinement, making him groan. 

He dropped his head downwards, his forehead leaning to rest against yours, as he closed his eyes and did his best to regulate his breathing—repeating in his head and out loud, again.

He knew better.

“You’re using me.”

You both knew better.

Yet with your lips ghosting his and your eyes half-hooded, you were prepared to give into the dark side.

“And I say take advantage of it.”

Hyunjae dived and pressed his lips onto yours, hunger driving his every movement. There was no stopping when he felt your lips curling up into a grin, his hands shifting to wrap around your torso to drag you closer. His heart burst at how perfectly his lips molded with yours, and it seemed as if there was fire shooting up into the sky and exploding—they weren’t fireworks, and the explosion was far bigger and more dangerous. It lit the entirety of the sky, the moon and stars included, into flames, a desire unlike any other.

Your left hand pressed firm against the back of his neck while the other traveled through his hair. Meanwhile, his hands had snuck beneath your shirt and felt for your lower back. Heavy breaths left the two of you as desperation crept through your veins, dictating your every movement. 

The cold touch from his hands ignited your nervous system, every sense activated and overstimulated by Hyunjae as you released a breathy moan into his mouth.

You didn’t want him, but fuck, you needed him.

When you would pull back, his lips would chase yours, and you two fell into an endless cycle. He couldn’t even fathom how you were pulling away for air when you were his oxygen. Maybe you weren’t oxygen itself, but the fumes you emitted had already replaced his need for air, deluding him into believing that you were what he needed to stay alive.

You were suffocating, toxic, and destructive, and he wanted more. 

After retracting from the kiss for the nth time, you turned your head to hold Hyunjae back from continuing. You both were panting, your cunt soaking, and he stared into your eyes like a puppy awaiting their next direction.

“Good boy,” you praised, and he laughed lowly and sheepishly, dropping his head as he processed what happened and the idea of it being potentially over. 

“You’re lethal,” he breathed out.

“And you’re pitiful,” you spat. There was a playful grin on your lips, but those words ignited something within Hyunjae. He raised his head and cocked a brow at you, questioning your genuinity. 

Just minutes ago you were crying over a guy that treated you terribly, and yet here you thought you had the authority to call him weak.

Perhaps he was; he was falling deeper into your pitless trap, enticed with every movement of yours, but he knew for a fact you weren’t any better than him.

You both were sick in the head for falling for people that treated the other like shit, yet your drive, your fuel, to win over the hearts of the people you loved was so strong, and it made you two unstoppable. 

Hyunjae would punch Jiwoong all over again if he could. 

Without a second thought, Hyunjae ducked his head down and ruthlessly attached his lips to your neck, eliciting a gasp from you. He kissed your skin fervently, his fingers teasing the rim of your shorts, and your hands shifted to hold onto his shoulders for support. You found yourself tossing your head back, providing him more room to do as he pleased, that if Jiwoong were to see you with marks on your neck, then maybe he’d want you back. 

“Bold of you to call me pitiful,” he grumbled, sucking onto your neck until a blot of purple began to form.

“But it’s true, no?”

“You’re just as bad, Y/N.” He licked a stripe up your neck and over the mark, and the sensation made you cringe, disgust itching at your skin due to being covered in his saliva, but you wanted more of it. You wanted Hyunjae to treat you like you were nothing, to treat you worse than Jiwoong ever had, so you could direct your blame over to Hyunjae instead of your unknowing boyfriend.

You turned your head and slotted your lips with his again, already addicted to how perfect they were for you. Hyunjae knew the exact way to kiss you, to keep you on your toes, as your slick pooled up in your underwear at the mere thought of Hyunjae touching you.

The kiss was eager, a fight for control, and when Hyunjae didn’t surrender, you raised your knee, forcing your thigh to brush up against his crotch.

He gasped at the sensation and pulled away, bangs hanging over his eyes as he looked down at the sight. You teased him by keeping your touches gentle, but you made sure to keep your leg moving. Nothing intrigued you more than seeing Hyunjae beg or rut against your thigh, further proof of how pathetic he was for you. You gained a sense of ego knowing that he could have any girl in the world, that he has had every girl, and yet he would always come back to you. Now that you had him, it would be harder for him to return to a life without you under him, moaning his name.

You wanted to be his downfall. 

Your nails latched onto the mesh, taking note of how easy it would be to rip the material, before pressing your thigh firmly up against his dick, making him jerk.

“You’re-...oh my god, Y/N,” he gasped, breathless. His eyes meet your devious ones, how you were basically Satan himself, and somehow, someway, he wouldn’t ask for anything different. “You’re playing a losing…a losing- game.”

“What more do I have left to lose?” There was some truth in your words as vulnerability struck you. Your leg then lowered as you regained a slight sense of reality, realizing that you were forcing Hyunjae into being your selfish source of relief. You hated Hyunjae, sure, but you knew this was the last thing he deserved—to use him when he’d been nothing but accommodating to you.

And your sick and twisted plan was that after this encounter, you’d leave him to rot.

Hyunjae didn’t deserve that at all. 

But Hyunjae was already too far gone, too intoxicated, to even consider the repercussions of how he’d end up after this. The loss of contact with his crotch was what had him picking you up from his car, the tips of his fingers digging into your thighs, as he led you to the backseat. 

Your eyes widened, your senses fully back, but you made him like this, and you were going to pay for it. Although scared for about what’s to come, the anticipation had you drooling, your lips pressing fierce kisses onto his skin while he opened the door with you in his arms.

He laid you down gently and crawled over you, keeping you trapped between his arms.

“This is what you wanted, right? For me to tear you apart until you can run back to Jiwoong and justify how poorly he treats you?” 

Your brows bunched up at his words, your legs getting antsy being under him. There was no answering him, not when Hyunjae already knew how you were going to respond.

He brought one of his hands into your shorts and made the aggravating decision to slide his fingers over your underwear, depriving you of contact with his fingers.

Yet even with your underwear being a divider, he found your clit with ease and immediately started rubbing circles into the bud, making you buck your hips with a whine. The friction of the cloth was something you were unfamiliar with, and lord did it mess with you. 

“You want me to treat you how he sees you? Worthless and undeserving of respect?” He flicked your clit and kissed your jaw. “If that’s what you want, that’s exactly what my princess is going to get.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, using your hands to push onto his shoulders and force him down. The drive to ride his tongue was strong, and if he kept teasing you, you would have lost it.

“I know you inside and out, Y/N. I know you better than him, and this is how you treat me.” He sucked in a cheek but ultimately decided to comply with what you wanted. He pulled off your shorts yet left your underwear on, and his brows raised. He wasn’t sure how his fingers had missed the texture of lace, but what you were wearing was certainly lingerie.

You looked down to see why he stopped, and when you realized why he froze, heat rose to your cheeks.

“I wanted to feel pretty,” you whispered, shutting your eyes after turning your head. It was embarrassing, now that you thought about it, but Hyunjae’s heart soared, and he wanted nothing more than for you to know how ethereal you looked.

But he shoved the feeling away, allowing his frustrations to get the better half of him. 

When he pulled off your underwear, he cooed at how your essence oozed onto the material and raised the undergarment into the air, waiting for you to look.

“Did I do this?”

His mocking tone kept you from looking, but your curiosity got the best of you. You were met with the sight of a large wet, dark patch on your underwear, biting down on your lip as you looked at him with wide eyes. If you thought about it, you couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this, or if there ever had been a time when you craved someone this badly. 

He tossed it to the side and his hands massaged your thighs, keeping them spread open so he got a proper view of your core on display for him. The sight truly stunned him, reminding him that this was you he fantasized about and replicated with other girls—no one else.

“Do you normally take this long?” you rasped, tossing your head back against the seat, and Hyunjae rolled his eyes.

“I do you a favor, and this is how you treat me.”

“A favor is a stretch—”

Hyunjae plunged two fingers into your mouth, having them press firmly down against your tongue. He latched onto your jaw and pulled your head forward and up towards him, having your eyes meet his.

“Remind me, Y/N, who was begging for this?”

He dropped your head back down against the seat before you could even respond and used whatever saliva accumulated in your mouth as temporary lube, figuring that your slick would help him with stretching you out. You grunted at the impact, feeling helpless, as Hyunjae finally inserted his fingers inside of you. 

Hyunjae’s fingers were enough to have your eyes rolling, but it was the ring that he wore that stimulated you the most. You weren’t aware that he was even wearing one, yet the cold band against your raging wet heat made you whimper and desperately grasp for his hair.

“Jaehyun, please,” you begged. 

He chuckled and kept his movements slow, forcing you to fuck yourself onto his fingers weakly. When you did, he was in awe at how stunning you looked, how you seemed to be in your own world, and how you were enjoying him. By curling his fingers, a moan was pulled from your throat, making your eyes open as you looked at him. You continued to pool around his fingers, your voice weakly begging for so much more than his fingers and the cold air that brushed against your skin. 

Never had you felt more vulnerable, but Hyunjae never once made you feel like you were doing something wrong, making you cling desperately to him. You forced his face down into your crotch and jerked at the feeling of his nose brushing up against your clit.

“Shameless, aren’t you?” he commented, laughing lowly, but you were too out of it to care. 

“Shut the-...F-fuck, oh my god.”

Your whines had gotten more incessant the more useless he became, his fingers now completely stilled inside of you as he watched you roll your hips with a cheeky grin. He wanted to drag this out for as long as possible, knowing fully well that he could last all night. 

When he took out his fingers, you were yanked out of your bliss and nearly begged for him to put them back in, but before you could get a word out, he had replaced his digits with his tongue. Your slick was dripping onto his lips, and as he dragged his wet muscle up and down your folds, he made sure to collect a small puddle of you onto his tongue to eventually swallow, wanting to savor you. 

“Oh-...Oh my god, Jae—” Your orgasm was approaching, unsure of how it was here so soon, but you recognized the signs from the coil in your chest tightening to losing every sensation to the man beneath you. You rocked your hips continuously onto his tongue, and his thumb attached to your clit, making you see stars with how rapid his movements were. 

He pulled his face back and forced his fingers back into you, and the final curl was what made you reach your peak, your hips in the air as you cried out his name. 

As you came down from your high, you caught a glance of the way Hyunjae was looking at you; to him, you were otherworldly, and it was a sight he’d never forget. He wondered if Jiwoong ever saw you like this, if he ever made you feel this way, and suddenly his admiration had soured and contoured to something of darkness, rid of any empathy as he now looked at you with some form of disgust. 

“All this for me, and you still have the fucking audacity to choose him.” 

The mention of Jiwoong had your eyes wide open, tears reappearing at the mention and while being in your most vulnerable state. Your legs shook from the aftermath, feeling too weak to continue, yet Hyunjae seemed to have other plans.

Instead of shoving his fingers back into either of your mouths, he hovered over you and made sure you saw the way he dragged his fingers around your abdomen, drawing aimlessly over your skin with your essence before dragging a hand up to your breasts, massaging one of them as his other hand rested by your waist.

“Tell me, Y/N, did you buy this for him and never got to use it? That’s why you’re wearing it now with me? Am I your sloppy seconds?”

There was a slight growl under his tone, and while you shook your head subconsciously, he worked to remove your shirt, wanting a better look at your bra, before being met with a necklace you had been hiding; one with Jiwoong’s name.

And Hyunjae took no time breaking it from your neck.

Your jaw dropped, and you snapped out of your daze by sitting straight up, yet as you were about to yell at him for breaking your necklace, he shoved three fingers back into your pussy, shutting you up by having you moan at the intrusion. 

“It looked cheap, anyway,” he muttered, forcing his mouth against yours momentarily to nip on your lower lip, tugging on it so your focus remained on him. 

“That was—he’s mine,” you forced out, gasping at every thrust he made with his fingers, your sweet spot being abused as your hands latched onto his shoulders. You made sure your nails dug into his skin, wanting it to hurt, before pulling onto the mesh, wishing for it to tear. 

“He’s not yours, princess. Tell me, how can you say that when his dick has been up other girls?” With his free hand, he grabbed your face and made sure you were staring straight at him before shoving it to the side. 

“You need to fucking wake up and realize that you can dream all you want about how he’d react if he saw you hopping on my dick, but guess what? He wouldn’t care.” Hyunjae pulled out his fingers and left you alone in the backseat. 

You sat there, a wreck and vulnerable, as you tried to catch your breath. You lay back on your forearms, curious eyes following his every movement.

“There’s a reason he hasn’t left you yet,” Hyunjae explained, opening the front door to his car to grab a condom and his phone. He tucked both into his back pocket before returning to you, bringing your lips to his before continuing to talk within the kiss.

“He’s stringing you along so you can boost his ego. He knows you will always be there for him, and you allow him to use you like that?” 

You wrapped your fingers around Hyunjae’s neck, squeezing it before pushing it away to keep your distance, your frustration starting to grow.

“I’m beginning to think you’re all bark and no bite, Jaehyun,” you muttered, and with whatever strength you had left, you pushed him against the seat and got into his lap. Without hesitation, you started rocking your hips over his clothed dick, hoping your slick would seep in so he could feel you.

He hissed but allowed you to do as you pleased, his grip tight on your hips.

“I-...I think…if you asked me, you’re the one who’s projecting. I’m the one in a relationship, and you’re just a side piece.”

The speed of your hips increased, and Hyunjae felt ecstasy on the tip of his tongue, the confinements of his pants physically paining him the more you continued.

“You’re jealous, Jae. Just admit it.”

You pulled at his hair, loving the absolute control you had over him at that moment, but in one languid motion, Hyunjae managed to push you back down, this time with your stomach against the seats. You could feel your bodily fluids sticking to the nylon, and with how hard Hyunjae was pressing down into you, you were barely given a chance to move. 

With one hand on your lower back, he kept you still as he took out both his phone and condom, making sure to place both on top of your bare skin.

“What’s there to be jealous of when you’re here under me? You want to be fucked stupid? Fine. Don’t fucking complain when you want me to be the villain.” You lurched at his words, refusing to let him win, but you were completely unable to do much damage as Hyunjae kicked off his pants and boxers while still keeping his weight on you.

He then picked up his phone and pulled up the camera, making sure to take a photo of you in his car before clicking record and tossing the phone onto the ground, hoping it was close enough to pick up on your sweet noises. 

“Make sure to be loud for me, yeah? I’m sure Jiwoong would love it if I sent that video to him.”

“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” you bit back, your hand reaching out in an attempt to grab the device, but Hyunjae was quicker to grab your wrist, pinning it behind your back. 

“I wouldn’t because I know how to appreciate what’s mine.” Hyunjae released his hold on you to roll on the condom, giving you the opportunity to move and take his phone as you pleased. To your dismay, there was no more effort left within you, only an ache to feel Hyunjae inside you. 

“He appreciates me,” you mumbled, trying to convince yourself otherwise as you waited.

“Does he record you? Jerk off to your moans every night? Because I would, Y/N, just for you.” His voice was now by your ear, and when you turned your head to look at him, he pulled you into another hungry kiss, his dick now grazing against your hole. 

“You’re fucking insane,” you bit back into the kiss, and he grinned against your lips, guiding his dick into you as he spoke.

“Psychotic, just for my princess.”

Venom laced his voice, dripping menacingly, and the insertion of his tip had you grasping for something in front of you, anything, and it was only then that you were able to process how thick his cock was.

“Can you take it?” he asked, his voice slightly softer than before. When you gave him a curt nod, he continued pushing in further. Maybe lube should’ve been an option, but you were so wet for him that it didn’t matter, knowing that the stretch probably would have hurt regardless. 

“Fuck, fuck—he really doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Hyunjae gasped, his head resting against the back of yours. It was better than anything he’d dreamed of, better than any girl he imagined, because it was you, and your body was made for him.

“When was the last time he fucked you?” He was fully inside of you now, and when you didn’t answer, he decided to take it as a sign to move. With a firm grip on your waist, he pulled out just to slam back in, making you yell as you clawed at the seat, wishing there was something to bite on as you endured the pain that was quick to morph into pleasure. 

Every glide pushed you further into the car, your forearms occasionally hitting the door, as his hips moved vigorously, working up to a pace that had you moaning without pause. Tears were flowing down your cheeks at the overwhelming pleasure of being manhandled—of being Hyunjae’s rag doll when he was meant to be yours, and your body seized up, being worked up to your orgasm once more with how precise each thrust seemed to be. 

He adjusted to raise one of your legs to his hip, giving him a new angle to pound into you as he worships you with his dick, and you shook out of pleasure, whining as you saw white and reached your second orgasm for the night. You pulsated around his cock, strangled moans ripping from your throat as tears mixed with your drool by your chin.

And Hyunjae showed no signs of stopping.

He made sure to press your face down against the seats, wanting every liquid to fall and stain his car, giving him something to remember you by.

Oh, and there was the recording too.

While kneeling inside of the cramped car, he slowed his movements and inclined his torso towards you. In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around your neck and pulled you up, locking you inside his elbow as he forced you to look into your reflection in the car window.

“Look at you, the school’s favorite slut. What happens if the recording drops? The whole school would know you’re mine, wouldn’t they?” He pressed his chest against your back, the mesh rubbing against your skin as his lips remained near your ear, forcing you to listen to every word.

You limped against him, your flames completely burnt out, and your fingers tugged onto the mesh around his arm, successfully ripping it after some time, but Hyunjae seemed unphased. In fact, it turned him on even more knowing that he had you locked in, that you were his.

“Look at your pretty cunt taking me in so well. It was so wet for me, wasn’t it? It still is. And guess what? You’re in my car. You belong to me, and my good girl is only now just finding out about it, isn’t she?” 

“I-I’m…I’m not-...not yours,” you retaliated, creating red angry marks into his skin with your nails as you endured being used, stifling your moans as you looked at how wrecked you were, how bare you seemed to be compared to Hyunjae. You were much more of a mess, from your hair to the bruises on your neck. Your pussy kept tightening up around his dick, convulsing occasionally with every hit toward your g-spot, and you held onto Hyunjae each time. 

Your head drooped down, thinking about how your heart ached for Jiwoong, yet the rest of your body was meant for Hyunjae.

“Whose fucking dick is inside of you right now?” He scoffed and pulled on your hair, forcing your head back up so he could directly speak into your ear. “Wake up, Y/N,” he demanded. “You’re mine.”

He dropped you back onto the seat like you were nothing, leaving you completely helpless, your throat void of any words as your eyes closed and met the back of your skull, too fucked out to communicate. You tried reaching for the door handle, just something to hold onto, yet you couldn’t.

“You tell me I’m pitiful, that I’m basically delusional when you’re going to be the reason my car will smell like sex for weeks.”

Your face was forced back into the puddle of liquid you created earlier, being shifted back and forth against the seat as if you were made for his dick and not vice versa.

“It’s crazy how pathetic you are, how willing you are to break yourself down in front of everyone just to have him. That-...fuck…that you’re so convinced he wants you and you two are soulmates.” He dragged his fingers through your hair and grabbed your roots. “You called me, you wanted me, and I have you right now, moaning my name, and you have nothing.”

Something about his words kept bringing out your orgasms, each thrust adding to the pleasure immensely. You didn’t know how much you could handle—afraid you may pass out from how much he was using you, from his tight grip around you to his dick hitting inside of you mercilessly.

Hyunjae whispering ‘I won, Y/N’ was what had you losing it, your high this time ending up stronger than the rest. You were fully crying now, and yet he continued as if you were nothing.

He peppered your shoulder with kisses and had the slight decency to slow his pace, but he also took note of your sobs.

“Don’t tell me you still want him,” he began rambling, his lips still on your shoulder. “Don’t tell me after this that your heart still belongs to him, because if that were the case, I’d make you call him right now. Say you wish it was him instead of me, and that he’s the love of your life while you’re stuffed with my dick. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You could no longer think, and what you hated most was how reactive your body was—how you were just able to come for the third time, but Hyunjae’s dick solely being inside you snapped some other straw you weren’t aware you had, finding that your last high was incoming. 

Hyunjae had picked up the pace by then, and by knowing your body incredibly well, he reached down to your sensitive clit to relieve you. You both knew your fourth was arriving, and you held on tight to his arm.

“J-Jaehy- hyun, I’m—”

“Mine.”

You cried out, your entire body shaking, and Hyunjae pulled out, immediately releasing onto your back with a guttural moan after yanking off the condom. He was forced to catch his breath, watching you float in and out of consciousness.

Your eyes were closed, struggling to breathe through your sobs, and Hyunjae consoled you with a kiss on the back of your shoulder. 

“You’re mine, Y/N, whether you like it or not.”

He then pressed a kiss to your cheek before leaving to grab paper towels from his trunk. You were heaving, still shaking, and left alone as a mess in his backseat, yet with him gone, you felt even more useless, wanting him back by your side instantly. You weakly cried out for him, your nails dragging against the seat in hopes of being in his arms soon, and maybe he was right.

Maybe you were his.

OUR INFERNO [ M.LIST | TWO ]

NAVIGATION — THE BOYZ

© https://hcuyk.tumblr.com/

[talkingsaxy]

PHOTOS YOU'VE TAKE OF YOUR BOYFRIEND SUNWOO

please don't repost, requests open!

[antinitoniny]

juyeon as your boyfriend: headcanons

★ juyeon x fem!reader

☆ fluff, established relationship

⋅─────────────⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰─────────────⋅

clingy bf!juyeon. his huge hands would always somehow find a place on ur body no matter where u guys are.

juyeon's favorite hand placement: back & around the waist ㅡ 'coz it shows the size difference between his hand and ur waist

words of affirmation & juyeon. juyeon's good at words, however, he always gets shy right after saying it.

"you're so beautifully crafted, my love." */then proceeds to bury his face in the crook of ur neck

juyeon's not afraid to express himself. it doesn't matter how random it is or where you guys are; he'd always find a way to say that he adores you & meeting you is the best thing in his life

"i love moments like this with you" and it's just you guys playing dress to impress on bed

"i don't wanna pressure u or anything but i'd like to marry you when we're 30. but if you're not ready, we can wait 'til we're 40ㅡ i mean, i can wait" while you guys are washing the dishes together

unlike any other guys, juyeon's never afraid to yap & to be dramatic as long as it's just the two of you

juyeon's a page stalker. he'd stalk your tiktok reposts then buy whatever product u repost and he'd stalk ur letterboxd then invite you to watch a movie from ur watchlist.

confident bf!juyeon. he loves wearing tank tops or fitted tops along with shorts because he knows that you'd go crazy 'coz of it

he loves getting compliments from you. would get shy but would keep those words in mind so he could continue doing the things that you complimented him on

confident juyeon would cry during arguments.

would still call you petnames during arguments & even when he's really upset

"baby, i just don't understand why you did that. you could've talked to me first." soft spoken juyeon

would be the type who'd rather give you guys some time to calm down instead of arguing continuously

soft spoken juyeon. again. we have to talk about it.

when you're upset & yk that you're not making any sense but u still wanna prove a point (and u got a hell of a pride) ㅡ he should be mad atp but instead, "i understand where you're coming from. you're upset & that's valid. please let me explain to clear this up, okay?"

sponty dates w juyeon

"hey, can you come w me later?" "OKAY"

juyeon would always find a way to surprise you even w little things like a flower bouquet on a casual day, him cooking ur fav dish for dinner, him organizing your study desk, and him setting up a small tent in the living room where you can have a movie marathon

bf!juyeon would read books with you in a local library in silence

bf!juyeon would make a playlist for you every month & describe how his days r a lot better because you're there.

bf!juyeon would get jealous whenever you talk about other guys but would act like he's okay w it 'coz he likes hearing you yap

bf!juyeon's eyes are always sparkling whenever he talks about you with his friends

would be the type who's completely uninterested in discussions but will suddenly be talkative once he hears your name

date-to-marry bf!juyeon. yes. that's it.

juyeon loves doing things for you. like everything. you want to reach for the blanket next to you? he'll grab it and put it on you. you're reaching for something on a shelf (it's not on the top shelf- u can reach it easily), juyeon would grab it and hand it to you with a smile.

juyeon loves packing ur lunch everyday. that's also his way of making sure that you eat.

[sohnric]

plot twist – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x gn! reader

genre: coworkers au, enemies to lovers au. fluff, a poor attempt at comedy. movie theatre! worker sunwoo and reader. bitch boy sunwoo. the reader has anger issues. owner's son! sunwoo being annoying about everything. winter themes, sunwoo is a little kid about stuff but mostly the snow.

wc: 21k

warnings: swearing, a heated make out session. y/n's inner monologue is just my own feelings about this man im sorry. i watched too much of the office when writing this can you tell. also i made sunwoo's sister underage for plot reasons deal with it.

working with kim sunwoo has so far been the worst experience of your whole entire life. just his existence alone is enough to make your day completely miserable– though, one would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you for the biggest plot twist of your life.

a/n: this took me SO LONG to write woah. i have a humble playlist for this fic if any of yall wanna listen to it while you read <3 a huge thank you goes to my best friend @csenke for being my biggest motivator and hype man when it came to this fic. thank u for being my first ever beta reader hihi i couldn't have done this without you i am forever grateful ily. also im tagging @heemingyu because whe told me to

ho ho ho! this fic is a part of the secret santa event by @deoboyznet ! @kimsohn maya, i was your secret santa this year, i hope you enjoy the fic i prepared for you

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – UGLY TRUTH (2009)

If anyone ever asked you about your job in the movie theater, you wouldn’t really know what to say. 

You see, what may had seemed like your dream job when you were little, acquiring the fairytale vision after going to the cinema for the first time to see the Horton movie when you were just 7, quickly turned into reality one ordinary day during your junior year of university. And it wasn’t even that hard; you just dropped off your CV at the movie theater on the corner of the town's square when you saw the sign that said ‘looking for part-timers’ in a messy, giant handwriting on the glass door– and soon enough, you found yourself in the depths of the vintage-looking cinema, wearing the red uniform the owner gave you, selling movie tickets to teenagers and taking out the trash. It’s hard to enjoy the job when you’re on bathroom cleaning duty, though, and the fact that this is what you once imagined to be the most exciting job in the whole entire world turns twice as boring when you realize just how mundane it really is. 

Still, you can’t bring yourself to quit, well, because you need the money.

Do you hate working in the cinema? No. Not really. Sure, it’s kind of boring– especially on the nights when you’re selling tickets at the front and nobody comes in for hours– but it’s not that difficult. It’s not physically or mentally demanding, so you’d say that you’re still on the better end when it comes to work environment. Your boss isn’t a dick and you get paid on time– so really, if anyone asked you if you hated it, your answer would be no. 

Until one fateful day, of course. 

You’re met with a person that’s going to efficiently change this opinion around in one swift bat of their eyelashes and a drag of their hand through their messy hair.

“So… you’re the new part-timer?” a tall boy asks you one day when you arrive at work. You’re already wearing your uniform when you come through the front door– since you don’t really feel like changing in the toilets that are not staff-exclusive here– and frankly, his voice startles you on your way in.

“Yeah,” you nod, furrowing your brows at the stranger. “And you are…?”

“Sunwoo,” the boy says, matter-of-factly, as if you’re supposed to know who exactly he is now that he’s introduced himself to you. The look on your face may show that you’re still clueless, and see, that’s something that must have played with the boy’s ego. “Kim Sunwoo,” he snickers, “the owner’s son..?”

Blinking a few times, trying to remember if Mr Kim’s ever told you about having a son– he hasn’t– you gasp like a fish on the dry, nodding. “Oh… Hello..?” you mumble, not really knowing what to do with the information.

“Hi,” he says, face stone cold and motionless. Something’s wrong, but you can’t quite put your finger on it…. 

Well, you’ll have to deal with that later. “My shift starts in 5 minutes, so I gotta find Mr- your dad, and ask him what’s on my to-do list today, but it was nice meeting you,” you try to force out a polite (maybe even warm) smile before you turn on your heel and march towards the staff room, where Mr Kim usually resigns unless he is helping you out with something at the front. See, on not busy days, working at the cinema requires only one person. On Fridays, though, it can get tough. That’s when the owner makes the popcorn while you both sell and scan the tickets at the same time– sometimes you wonder why he doesn’t hire another person to help out with the job.

“Wait– newbie–”

The nickname startles you, again, as you turn around and squint at him. You have a name– and although he has no way of knowing it (other than his father telling him, but seeming that you didn’t even know about his son, Mr Kim isn’t big on sharing information)– but still, you’d love to be called by it. “It’s Y/N, actually.”

“Oh, right…” he hums, “well, Y/N, dad’s not here tonight, so… I’m… kind of in charge,” he says, nodding as he gets the words out, trying to prove his point, “he had other things to take care of, so he sent me down instead,” he explains, watching as your face morphs into one of quick understatement.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he nods, sucking on his teeth.

Thick silence overtakes the atmosphere. You feel awkward and out of place.

“So…?” you hum, waiting for him to tell you what to do. 

Because a guy your age ordering you around at work is already embarrassing enough for a university student just trying to pay for their groceries. You’re not gonna ask for the orders yourself. You still have some dignity.

“So… I could take the ticket booth and you can clean the screening room, since there are no movies on tonight?” he suggests, rocking on his heels. The boy seems a bit shaken with the new sense of responsibility, but you figure that even his undoubtful awkwardness still doesn't put you above his position.

You mentally sigh. Cleaning is your least favorite part of the job. 

Still, you’re not gonna talk back to your boss’ son. You’d like to keep your job for a while longer. At least until you find something better.

“Alright,” you nod, turning on your heels once more and preparing to disappear into the depths of the cinema.

His voice stops you again, though, frustration flowing through your veins. “Don’t forget to mop the floors! Oh, and the bathroom could use a clean as well.”

“Alright,” you nod again, your back facing him.

“Also, you need to get the gum off the chairs, I know it’s kind of disgusting, but there’s a-”

“I know how to do my job, thank you,” you turn, smiling ironically over your shoulder.

You don’t know what it is about the man that makes you so, so incredibly irritated. Maybe it’s the fact that every bit of information coming out of his mouth sounds like he’s mansplaining everything to you. Maybe it’s the fact that you feel humiliated to be told what to do by a man that’s your age. Or maybe, it’s just the sheer fact that you hate cleaning– the one thing he just told you to do.

Still, you go and get the vacuum. You go and mop the floors, you go and take the gum off the chairs and scrape it into a bucket you keep in the pantry in the back. You go and clean the bathroom, even though it’s 10 minutes until the end of your shift (you only work 4 hours on Wednesdays) and you spent almost your whole day cleaning the whole screening room by yourself (the screening room that’s giant and Mr Kim helps you with on most days). You go and wipe the mirror in the bathroom, as well as the windows in the hall. 

You say that your work in the cinema is not physically demanding, but by the time you’re out, your back hurts and your knees are all bruised up from getting on the ground so often.

What really sets you off, though, is the sight of the owner’s son sitting in the booth, both legs up on the table and chewing on something, his phone in his hands as he watches, what you presume from the language resonating from the speaker, a silly anime. At least someone had fun during their shift, you think as you leave without saying goodbye to him, slamming the door behind you with a loud bang on your way out.

Quite frankly, you didn’t know what set you off so bad this time. Maybe you just had a bad day. Maybe it could've been fixed with your next shared shift with the guy– you never know.

Little did you know that it was only going to get worse from now on, though.

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – PALM SPRINGS (2020)

If you knew your boss’s son would play the role of your supervisor from time to time, you probably wouldn't have taken the job when it was offered to you. 

Why?

The reason is quite simple– while you go to work to make money, Kim Sunwoo goes to work to make your whole life a living hell. Ranging from always giving you the more difficult task of the day to making unfunny jokes about your performance (he once asked if you ran a marathon after you mopped the whole hall, his grinning figure staring at you from inside of the ticket booth), you’re starting to think that Kim Sunwoo is mentally stuck with the brain of an 11-year old boy. 

More so with his recent endeavors. You don’t really know what he’s trying to achieve with all of this, but you’re starting to despise going to work even when you know he’s not on the schedule– somehow, you’re afraid his silly pranks and jokes will follow you and surprise you even when he’s not present. Is this his way of asserting dominance? You really don’t know.

It all starts one day before a movie premiere when Sunwoo walks up to you and introduces you to a new concession item to sell in the snack booth. While you don’t really know why one would even think of new combinations to sell at a cinema, since everyone’s just gonna get popcorn or nachos, you don’t really question the idea much further– Sunwoo’s father owns this place, so he must know the best marketing strategies for his business. The reality only downs on you when you’re forced to promote the “Ultimate movie mix” to every customer– which wouldn’t even be that strange, if the mix didn’t include the weird combination of pickles and candy. 

Running on two all nighters and half an energy drink, you didn’t realize the snack stand doesn’t even hold pickles. You were notified the day after by your boss, though, and that wasn’t your best experience.

The terror follows when Sunwoo’s father decides to run a Star Wars marathon one weekend. The flood of customers wouldn’t be as hard to manage when you run the snack stand, but it does get more difficult when your coworker running around with a lightsaber knocks over all the buckets of freshly-made popcorn you just put on the counter for the customers to take. 

He doesn’t even say sorry. Or help clean the spilled popcorn up from the floor. Or help you make a new batch. 

He just laughs.

Sunwoo just loves to laugh at you. Like that one time he made you wear a giant popcorn costume and stand in front of the cinema for the entirety of your 4 hour shift on Wednesday to promote the new movie airing on Friday. Hardly anyone took the fliers you were desperately trying to force into their hands and when you came back, you saw Sunwoo pointing his camera at you from the big glass window. 

The next shift, his dad asked you how Sunwoo did when promoting the movie. You didn’t have the heart to tell him he forced you to do the dirty business instead.

Another time, Sunwoo informs you via text in the middle of your shift that you should clean the bathrooms. The fact itself already makes you furious, but you follow the order nonetheless– because, well, what else can you do? You’re used to cleaning the toilets, since it’s a part of your job. It’s just the fact that a guy your age told you to that’s making you rethink all your career decisions.

The trip to the bathrooms quickly turns traumatizing when you step inside of the tiled room and have the door behind you close with a loud bang, followed by the light switching off. Screeching, you jump and try to escape the room with fear making your heart run faster than Usain Bolt, however, you find the door seemingly locked– the sound of Sunwoo’s snarky laugh coming from the other side making you recognise what just happened and how he’s pulling another one of his childish pranks on you again.

When the door finally opens, you throw the toilet brush into his chest and scream out a “I’m going to fucking quit if I see your face one more time!”. You’re over all formalities.

That doesn’t mean you’re not scared every time you enter a room in the cinema when you work with Sunwoo, though. Your reaction was strengthened very abruptly, you see.

Sitting in the ticket booth, door ajar to monitor your surroundings, you plop your head on your hand and glare at Sunwoo, chewing on your gum. If anyone saw you right now, they’d think you were trying to kill him with your stare, but the opposite would actually be the truth tonight– you were quite enjoying the sight of him wiping the sweat off his forehead and scowling at the neverending flow of customers.

The beauty of having ticket booth duty on premiere night is that everyone bought the tickets beforehand already, meaning that it wasn’t usually busy. Scanning the tickets and running the snack booth were the more difficult parts of the shift, and since Mr Kim decided to show up to work today, Sunwoo was graced with the snack booth duty– something that warmed you up from the inside and made you want to kiss your boss’s feet in gratefulness. 

There’s just something about seeing Kim Sunwoo in misery that makes your stomach turn and do cartwheels. You’re in love with his pathetic, tired face.

His eyes meet yours when he takes a moment to breathe– the look behind them is pleading, almost embarrassingly hopeless as he internally wishes he was in your place. You think this serves him right for the weeks of torture, and when he becomes you to come over with a motion of his hand, you just shrug at him and bat your eyelashes in faked innocence. 

It’s not your fault he’s on duty tonight. What does he want with you?

His lips mouth “Come here,” which makes you battle a satisfied smile. Poor Kim Sunwoo is helpless in his task. The rush just won’t stop and he’s asked of more than he can handle. You kind of feel sadistic when you truly think about your sentiments, but you think you’re only valid for feeding on his misery.

“Help!” he mouths again, and now you truly can’t battle the laughter anymore. His hair is tousled and sticking to his forehead. His uniform is dirty. The tie around his neck is loose. The sight makes you utterly satisfied.

As he mouths “Please,” accompanied by clasped hands and a pleading look that would work on most women, you finally decide to stand up from the uncomfortable chair in the ticket booth and shake your head in disbelief. You can’t even count how many times Sunwoo left you alone in the rush before a premiere, but you can’t really risk his father finding out you didn’t come to rescue his beloved son, since however you might hate this job, you still can’t lose it in your current living conditions.

Sighing and closing the door to the ticket booth after you, your legs take you to the snack stand. Eyes of enthusiastic customers looking almost high on coca cola and the smell of salted popcorn are on you when you finally reach Sunwoo’s side. 

“So I’m supposed to help you with your work whenever you ask, but when I’m left cleaning the whole theater completely alone, you can sit around and play on your phone?” you jab, annoyed with the turn of events. You find a spare apron and tie it around your waist, not really wanting to dirty your uniform as you pour caramel into some buckets of popcorn, hearing your companion chuckle next to you.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Okay, so I’ll be back in the ticket booth after serving this customer-”

“My dad’s watching.”

“This is blackmailing,” you snap back, smiling ironically at your coworker.

Sunwoo grins at you when he hands two cokes to the teenage girls behind the counter, shrugging to himself. “Not my problem.”

You learned long ago that fighting with Kim Sunwoo is a battle you can never win. Logically, you know you’re always right, but the boy always thinks he should have the last word in everything, which makes ending an argument with him pretty much impossible. That’s why you stopped trying to prove your truth. In your heart, you know how it is, and no amount of snarky remarks from the feisty boy will change your opinion.

You two work alongside each other in silence for some time. You’d even say it’s efficient– you make the popcorn and he makes the nachos, both of you taking turns behind the coca cola machine, and after a few minutes in his proximity when he’s not being the butt of the Earth, your brain starts to question why you two can’t operate like this on a daily basis.

Oh, how foolish of you.

You’re quickly brought back to reality when you walk over with the grande size bucket of popcorn towards the counter, meeting halfway with Kim Sunwoo’s chest.

It takes everything in you not to scream, but the restraint is deleted as soon as you feel something cold dripping down the front of your uniform, your white button-up suddenly sticking towards your chest in a big, dark-brown pool around your waist area. One sharp look into his eyes is everything it takes you two to come to a mutual understanding of what your next action is gonna be– Sunwoo quickly puts the now empty cup of coca cola onto the counter and puts a hand towards his head in self-disappointment.

“Kim Sunwoo, are you fucking incompetent?!” you scream out, the sensation of your cold shirt sticking to your already sweaty skin making you want to crawl out of yourself and scratch your coworker’s eyes out with the claws of the demon he wakes up in you.

“Look, you don’t have to-”

“I just washed this yesterday, there’s a line of people waiting for their snacks up to the fucking front door, you just ruined the popcorn I made so now I have to redo it, and you just decide to spill this onto me?!” you continue with your rampage, not really caring about the eyes of everyone on you, just letting out all your built-up frustration that creeps inside of you every time you see his face.

“As if I did this on purpose…” he grunts as he turns around in his place and reaches for napkins, not really putting much thought into his actions as he presses the material into the damp place sticking to your skin. 

The image startles you– Kim Sunwoo almost in physical contact with you, a paper napkin soaking up some of the coca cola flooding the surface of your skin– and as you watch his slender palms run over your front, your eyes falling to the fluffy hair at the crown of his head, you feel heat rushing to your insides, making you jump away from him.

“Sorry-” he mumbles out as you forcefully pry the napkin out of his hand, gritting your teeth.

“I’m starting to think you’re making me do everything just because you’re useless,” you spit at him.

Rolling his eyes, Sunwoo pokes his cheek with the tip of his tongue. “It was an accident.”

“Don’t care,” you grunt, walking away from the booth, “I’m going to change in the back, you better not burn the place down with the popcorn machine before I’m back,” you comment, sending him a sharp glare over your shoulder.

All that accompanies you to the staff room is Sunwoo’s loud sigh and a sugary-sweet tone he offers to one of the customers as he throws the ruined popcorn into the trash. “I’ll be right with you, miss!” 

If anyone asked you if you hated your job now, you think you’d say yes.

Who are you kidding?

You’d definitely say yes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE HATING GAME (2021)

You were quite pleased on your way to work today. It’s Wednesday, which usually means it’s not as busy. The weather is cloudy– good enough to not make you gloomy, but not quite sunny enough to make you wish you were outside instead of being stuck in the cinema the whole afternoon– and you packed a home-made sandwich with you to eat on your lunch break. Which is whenever, since you’re on ticket booth duty today– another great news. 

The best thing about today, though? Kim Sunwoo isn’t working today. 

That alone is good enough to make your whole entire day better. The sun shines brighter, your breathing is lighter, the air is clearer and the birds chirp louder when you know you don’t have to interact with the hellspawn that day. It’s like his absence alone is enough to heal all your wounds and delete all your worries– who cares about the fact that you’re barely getting through your Biology class when you know you won’t have to stare at Sunwoo’s face as you contemplate dropping out of university during your shift? 

Maybe you should thank him, in a way.

And with all of this knowledge, a smile plastered on your face as you’re prepared to sit through your 5-hour shift in silence with an occasional swipe through your social media and a well deserved chicken-mayo sandwich towards the end of your shift, it’s quite natural for your smile to freeze and your spirit fall the moment you see the mop of dark brown hair walk through the doors of the cinema. 

“What the fuck is he doing here?” you mourn as he walks by, only realizing you said the sentence out loud when the boy looks at you with a scowled face, a scoff escaping his throat.

“Didn’t know we were speaking to each other in third person now,” he says as he stops in his tracks and plops his head into the door to your booth, infesting your calm abode with his presence.

Deep breaths. In and out, Y/N. In and out… 

“Hello to you too, Y/N,” he smiles, irony dripping off his tongue, “having a good day so far?”

“It was better without you here, thank you,” you snap back, rolling your eyes at him when his eyes flash with something akin to a victory– it seems you both take joy in making the other one absolutely miserable with your presence.

“Sweet,” he nods on his way out, grinning to himself. “Well, I won’t be long, so don’t let your mood drop too much.”

With that, he’s out of the ticket booth. All that’s left behind him is the smell of his cologne– the tingle of lemon and bergamot filling your nostrils in a way that makes the fine hair at the back of your neck stand up all alert– and silence. It makes you wonder about his whereabouts– you can never know… what if he’s setting up a trap for you somewhere? You wouldn’t be half surprised. You make a mental note to yourself to be twice as cautious when going to the bathroom next time. Just to make sure.

Before you’re able to think of any possible situations that Sunwoo could get himself caught in (while completely ignoring the fact that his father is somewhere in his office in the back– for all you know, he might just need to talk to your boss, like a son does sometimes), the woodworm of your thoughts appears in your view again, two rolled-up tubes under his shoulder as he walks over to the front door.

“Wait! What are those?” you ask, eyes zeroing on the very clear posters in his grip. The shiny white back of the big posters you have to sometimes put up in the front of the cinema are unmistakable to anything else.

“Posters,” Sunwoo replies, calling over his shoulder, already halfway out of the building. 

“I know what those are–”

“Then why are you asking?” he huffs, shaking his head in disbelief as he takes a few steps towards the ticket booth, eyes meeting yours. His figure fills the door frame as he towers over you, still sitting on the chair. His eyes have a different kind of twinkle in them– you think, no, you know it’s mischief– making the blood in your veins boil at deadly temperatures.

“Because– well,” you huff, already frustrated, “we’re not allowed to take these,” you say, pointing to the two posters under his shoulder like a kid in the candy store. You try to ignore just how embarrassing you must look right in this moment.

“Oh,” he pouts, taking the posters from below his shoulder, unraveling one of them and resting the other one against the doorframe, “so you’re telling me… I can’t take those two amazingly big, shiny, cool posters of the latest Spiderman movie home for me and my friend Juyeon?” 

You’re only half-aware of the fact that he’s teasing you right now, sighing at his innocent face. “No, Sunwoo. You can’t.”

“Hm,” he hums, looking at the poster from top to the bottom, seemingly sad about the news, “that’s terrible. Says who?”

“Your… your father, Sunwoo. He told me when I asked him the other day if I could take–”

“You wanted to take posters home from the cinema?” he gasps, looking at you with big eyes. He looks stupid. So, terribly stupid. Dumb. No thought behind his eyes. You want to smash his head against a concrete wall. 

…He’s teasing you. It finally dawns on you.

Now, you want to smash your head against a concrete wall.

Still, you admit defeat with a solemn tone in your voice. “Well, I really wanted the Enola Holmes poster to put up in my bedroom…” you mumble.

“And my dad said no?” he asks, eyebrows quirking up towards his hairline.

“Yes, Sunwoo. Your father said it’s prohibited to take posters home from the cinema, that’s exactly why I’m stopping you right now,” you say, tone filled with annoyance. You know he’s enjoying your face full of misery. But still, if there’s one thing you’re good at, it’s following the rules and orders– if Mr Kim says you can’t take the posters home, you’ll go in the back and tear them into pieces before throwing them into the bin like you’re told to. 

If things were going your way, you’d advise Sunwoo to do the same. 

A day with Kim Sunwoo in it never goes your way, though. You should’ve been prepared.

“So I can’t take those posters home because my dad said no?” he clarifies, looking like a dummy. Like one of those kids that ask the most obvious questions during exams. Like one of those kids you want to sucker punch in the face.

“Sunwoo–”

“Well, Y/N-ie,” he purrs, the nickname making your hands curl up in fists, “that’s too bad… because I am the owner’s son, so… the rules don’t really apply to me, you see.”

And with that, he sends another sickeningly sweet smile your way before he turns on his heel and marches towards the front door again– not responding to any of your annoyed, infuriated calls of his name. He doesn’t stop at your warnings. He doesn’t care.

And just like that, he disappears just as fast as he appeared. The interaction didn’t last more than 10 minutes, but you consider your whole day ruined.

Fucking Sunwoo and his fucking privileges. And his fucking annoying face. 

It’s not even that important. It’s just two posters that would get thrown out to the dumpster in the back at the end of your shift anyway. You don’t even care about those posters in particular– you just with equal rules applied to all workers in the workplace.

It’s not like Spiderman Homecoming is one of your favorite movies… not at all.

You could’ve had that poster. You deserved that poster. You sold tickets for it and served the snack booth when it premiered– not Kim Sunwoo and whatever his friend’s name was.

You kick the wall with your sneaker. It leaves a dirty mark.

You should’ve known the day felt too good to be true.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING (1993)

There’s a new thing Mr Kim is trying to lure more customers into the cinema. He calls it ‘Rewind Thursdays’, where he picks a movie from the past and airs it in the theater again to bring out nostalgia in the whole town. You think it’s a good idea– you remember when the Harry Potter movies had a rerun back when you were little, ecstatic that you finally got to see them in the cinema because you missed out on the experience when they were coming out for the first time. You went even though you saw them all before, and you had a blast. So in your books, this was the best thing that could happen to the little, old movie theater on the corner of the town’s square.

You were overbeared with joy when Mr Kim went up to you during one of your slow Wednesday shifts in the ticket booth with a paper and a pen, requesting you to write down your favorite movies. He informed you that he’d prefer it if they were older, to, quote, really get the nostalgia going, and you were happy to have some say in the list of movies to play for multiple reasons. One, because it meant he valued your opinion, and two, you don’t usually work on Thursdays, so if your favorite movie is on that day, you can go and relax in the cinema while watching it.

This all happened a few weeks ago. You gave the list back to your boss at the end of your shift, smiling brightly just thinking about it, and he told you he’ll get through it and see what he can incorporate. 

The plan gets to you on one uneventful Wednesday. You are stuck in the ticket booth again. Today is one of the Wednesdays where Sunwoo is in charge, because Mr Kim is out of town. You hate those days most of them all, but recently, he’s been giving you your freedom and letting you work in the ticket booth instead of cleaning the already clean cinema, saying he has stuff to do in the back. You suspect he just sits around in his father’s office with his legs on the table, chewing on his obnoxious strawberry mints. The image makes you furious only the tiniest bit, because the fact that he’s out of your sight and isn’t ordering you around is enough to calm your nerves. It could always be worse, you remind yourself. It could always be worse.

“I have the schedule of ‘Rerun Thursdays’ all done,” Sunwoo says as he walks up to the ticket booth close to the end of your shift. His eyes look a little tired when he holds up a thick card to you, the design of the poster making your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Did he do that?

“It’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’, actually,” you note, pointing towards the very obvious mistake on the top of the poster.

“Oh fuck– you know what, not anymore,” he scowls, taking the poster back from you and pointing glares at the title he mistyped, “I spent 3 hours on this, I’m not remaking it.”

“It looks like a kindergartener did it,” you note, eyes scanning the bubbly font and the orange-yellow combination used throughout the whole design when he offers the paper back to you. It looks like a Winnie the Pooh convention is taking place instead of an event full of nostalgic movies, and you would tell him that, but he beats you to it with a tired remark.

“Well, if my father wanted this to look professional, he should’ve hired someone to do it,” he mutters, obviously hurt by your harsh words, “I used Canva. I don’t know how Photoshop works and my dad can barely operate the computer, so this is what we’re going with, okay?” he says as he explains, big eyes suddenly bearing into yours. “Unless you wanna redo it yourself…?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then this is the final poster,” he says, “I’m gonna hang those outside when we close,” he notes, watching you scan the movie titles. The event will take place in 4 weeks from the middle of November to the middle of December (right in time for Christmas movies to air, since you’re certain Mr Kim has another Christmas-themed business tactic up his sleeve). 

“Did any of your movies make it?” Sunwoo asks, surprisingly friendly. You can’t remember a single casual conversation with the male– all you two do it either give each other the silent treatment or scream at each other (more like you scream at him, but he always deserves it…), so you’re kind of surprised at the change. Not pleasantly surprised. Just surprised.

Eyes falling to the second movie on the list, you feel yourself nodding as you smile. It’s like a dream come true– you can finally see your favorite movie in the cinema for the first time. You don’t know who to thank for this miracle, but something in your insides feels very grateful. 

“Yeah,” you say, trying to seem unaffected. You’d rather kill yourself than to show any signs of emotion in front of Kim Sunwoo. All he deserves to see is your stone cold face.

“Which one?” he asks, seemingly interested.

“National treasure,” you hum, pointing to the movie on the list, having Sunwoo nod to himself. You expect him to say something to you– perhaps engage in a conversation like a normal person would– but suddenly, he gasps and takes out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket, offering it to you and playing the role of the manager again.

“Oh, by the way,” he starts, watching as you unfold the paper, “I know we don’t usually work on Thursdays, but since my dad decided to do all of this, we kinda have to, since he wouldn’t be able to handle the premieres on his own, so… Here's your schedule for the next 4 weeks,” he says, clasping his hands together in front of him.

It takes everything in you to not correct the male and tell him that those are technically not premieres, but when your eyes land on the little Excel table Sunwoo printed out for you, the feeling is overpowered with one of deep disappointment.

“I work the second week?” you ask, as if the question might magically change the schedule.

“I mean, I think you can read…” Sunwoo hums, shrugging to himself.

A heartbeat passes by of you staring at the schedule, a pit opening in your stomach at the realization. You only work 2 Thursdays out of 4, noticing the fact that you rotate with Sunwoo (with him somehow taking the first week, much to your surprise), but for some reason, one of those days had to be the day when National treasure is on. 

And sure, you might think this is good– you can just watch the movie while you work! 

Wrong.

Working means either staying in the ticket booth the whole time in case a customer comes, working the snack booth the whole time in case a customer comes, or cleaning the bathrooms. Working means also standing in front of the screening room sometimes, making sure no one is going in without a ticket in the middle of the movie. 

There is no time for you to watch National treasure if you’re working. 

Sighing, you decide to do something you always prohibited yourself from doing– you ask Kim Sunwoo for a favor. “Listen… my favorite movie is airing the week I work, so I was… wondering if we could exchange shifts? So I could go and watch it?” you ask, looking at your coworker with what you presume are pleading eyes. You hope it works on the boy– he looks like the type to fold under a tender gaze.

“So you want to get out of work only to still come?” Sunwoo clarifies, snickering.

“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, tapping your fingers on the table.

“Well, the schedule is set,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I can’t do anything about it.”

Eyes sending darts to the very middle of Kim Sunwoo’s forehead, you take a few calming breaths before you speak up again. You don’t want to blow up on him when you’re asking him for a favor– you don’t think this approach would help you much in the situation.

“Why?”

“Because,” he shrugs. 

“Because?” you repeat. “That’s the reason?” you say, a weak laugh dragging out of your throat.

“Pretty much, yeah,” he mirrors your previous response, the blood in your veins already growing hot from the confrontation.

“Sunwoo, you– come on,” you say, “just this once, please? I’ll take the first week. We can just switch, what’s the difference?” 

Sunwoo tongues the inside of his cheek, eyes pointing towards the paper. “Schedule is schedule, Y/N. You have to follow it,” he says, an innocent look glazing his big fuckass boba eyes. Oh how you despise that look. It’s the look that tells you he finds this all so, so amusing, but won’t laugh in your face in hopes of teasing you some more. 

“Oh, amazing,” you say, throwing the schedule to the table, “I knew I could always count on you ruining my day, Kim Sunwoo. And I bet you did the schedule as well! You knew it was my favorite movie, so you made me work that week. Very nice of you, you dumbass. Thank you very much,” you grunt, annoyance flowing through your brain and making you truly merciless– you have no proof of Sunwoo even knowing which movie of yours made it in, or proof of him making the schedule– you don’t care, though. All you want at this moment is to claw his eyes out and pop them in between your fingers to ease the anger on your insides.

You can’t do that, though, so a screaming match will have to do the job.

“Stop being so dramatic,” he scoffs, eyebrows furrowing. “I didn’t even know which one your favorite movie was, so how could I do this on purpose? Plus, I didn’t even make the schedule, my dad did–”

“As if I would believe that,” you roll your eyes, huffing. “You’re all owner’s son privileges this, owner’s son privileges that, but when I ask you for one thing, one! Single! Fucking! Thing! You can’t do it,” you bite, words dripping in spite.

“Look, I really can’t-”

“You can’t do this one thing for me?” you cut him off, the question sounding like an ultimatum.

“No,” he shakes his head, seemingly unaffected by the conversation.

“Because…?” you demand a valid reason.

“Because I just can’t,” he shrugs, casual and cool. 

The world stills for a moment. You calculate your next move. Blood rushes in your ears, you see red. Your eyes fall on the clock– it’s 4 minutes after your shift. That’s it.

You take your coat draped over the chair, stand up from the chair and dash towards the front door. You can’t stand being around this man any longer– all he does is bring misery into your otherwise, already boring life. 

Speedwalking out of the place, you yell out a harsh “Go fuck yourself!” over your shoulder, leaving Sunwoo to close the cinema by himself. You don’t even change out of your uniform before you go– your head is too clouded with anger to remember to do so. Cursing out your coworker isn’t the best thing you could do in this situation, more so when he’s the owner’s son, but suddenly, you don’t really care about losing your job at the cinema anymore.

Maybe you should quit yourself, actually.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (2003)

In your books, there aren’t many things worse than working three days in a row. You can only think of so many even when you try hard enough: like going to school in your pajamas, getting sick on the day of an important event, ripping your pants on the metro, standing outside of the cinema in a popcorn costume for 4 hours… 

Yeah. Not too many.

So naturally, on the third day of your work week, putting one sweetened coffee into your stomach after another, barely keeping your head up from the lack of sleep you’re getting in between classes, work, and writing your essays until 3 in the morning, you beg god for a calm shift. It’s Wednesday, the first week of Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’ event, and it just so happened that you were set to work the first half of the week while Sunwoo got the other half. 

The only thing keeping you going is the fact that you and Sunwoo will now basically not see each other’s face for the next four weeks– with the exception of Fridays and Saturdays, the premiere days. You’re getting a lot of shifts this month, but hey… Christmas is coming. At least you’ll have plenty of money to buy gifts for everyone this year. (Or not. You’re very underpaid.)

Entertaining yourself by watching the world outside of your window and mentally betting on the race of raindrops falling down the glass surface– because your phone battery almost ran out during class this morning and you forgot to bring your charger with you– you hope you don’t fall asleep right in this moment. Your boss is somewhere inside and if he oh just happens to check up on you (which he never normally does, but you can never be too sure), you’re certain you’d lose your job after taking a nap in the ticket booth. Some things just can’t be accepted. 

Cat fights with his son? Perfectly acceptable. Sleeping on the clock? Not so much…

Eyes drooping when the third raindrop race doesn’t go the way you bet on in your head, you figure you can just rest for a second or two… Eyelids shielding your irises from the orange hues of the lights inside, your brain already turning off and preparing a happy dream for you, you think that taking a nap is not such a bad idea right now…

Wrong.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” the noise of a thunder– actually, no, that was just someone’s voice– wakes you up and makes you jump in your chair, your knee hitting the bottom of the table making you hiss in sharp pain.

“Fuck, man–”

“Didn’t know taking a nap was in the job description,” Sunwoo grins at you through the glass window of the booth. His eyes twinkle in amusement as you drag your hand through your hair, trying to smoothe it down after tousling it in your weird sleeping position.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” you mutter, not even meeting his eye. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah… just had… my eyes closed…” you hum, scratching the back of your neck. Clearing your throat, you look back up at him with an disinterested look on your face. “Anyways, what do you want? You’re off today.”

Scanning his figure, fully taking in his appearance– the fabric of his dark gray hoodie a little stained with raindrops (you bet he ran from his car into the building without an umbrella. He seems like the type to be embarrassed about umbrellas.), the fabric of the garment enveloping his head and shading his face a little from the ugly yellow lights. His face is a little flushed– you presume it’s from the running– and his hair is falling into his face. You can barely see his eyes behind the curtain of chocolate locks– he really needs a trim.

“Damn, didn’t know you hated me so much that you can’t stand seeing me on my off days,” he jokes, leaning on the counter as if to stick his face as close as he can into yours. Thank god for the glass shielding you two– you think you’d give him a fist to the nose if you ever felt his breathing on your skin.

“I do,” you agree, impatiently drumming your fingers on the top of the table, “so tell me what you want so you can disappear again,” you say.

“I just went to check up on whether you were sleeping or not so I can tell my dad to fire you–”

“Kim Sunwoo–”

He puts his arms up defensively, eyebrows raising at your threatening tone. “Okay, not really. I don’t actually care that much. Besides, you promised to quit yourself anyway, so,” he explains, shrugging to himself, “believe it or not, I’m here to buy tickets for a movie.”

You shoot him a stare, the look in your eyes dead, stone cold as you ponder on his words. It’s cold outside, it’s raining, and Kim Sunwoo just happens to decide to buy tickets for a movie today. In a cinema that he works at. In a cinema that he works at tomorrow.

“You work tomorrow…?” you mirror your inner monologue, kind of confused at the turn of events.

“You know my schedule? I’m flattered–”

The irritation is slowly creeping into your bones again. Actually, it has been since he arrived, but the more he talks, the more agitating the whole encounter feels. Maybe you should tape his mouth shut the next time you see him– you bet the day would be so much better if you don’t have to listen to him talk. 

“Why don’t you just buy the tickets tomorrow when you work? Didn’t have to walk here in the rain,” you explain, sighing to prove just how annoyed you are with his presence.

“Because I kinda need them today,” he says, clarifying to you with the tone you use when you explain mundane things to a child.

You don’t know what he did in his past life to get the ability to annoy you each and every time you meet him, but you’d like some of it to get back at him in your next life. Why you’re even thinking of past lives and the possibility of meeting Kim Sunwoo in your next one, you’re not really certain, but if it helps you to not smash the glass separating you two, you guess you can get behind the thought process.

“Okay,” you nod, painfully calm for the amount of screaming you’ve been doing internally, “what movie?” you ask, turning your body to the computer on your right and breaking eye contact with him. If he’s a customer, you’re going to treat him like one– no small talk and no arguments. You won’t ruin your day even more over a man that doesn’t know what chapstick is. (You don’t stare at his lips, just for the record. It’s just painfully obvious when he talks. Sometimes you want to reach over and pluck away the dead skin with your fingers– you won’t, though. That would be weird.)

Sunwoo straightens his back as he fishes for his wallet in the front pocket of his jeans. “National Treasure,” he smiles, making you break into cold sweat, “two tickets, please.”

Like a scene in a horror movie, your head turns without moving the rest of your body, eyes twitching when you see him standing at the other side of the booth, calm and collected. Suddenly, the scene makes sense– he bought the tickets to see your favorite movie on the day of your shift. Of course. He just has to rub it in your face. 

Not only are you working that day. You will also most likely serve popcorn to him as he goes inside with whoever he is buying the second ticket for. And you will try not to trip him on his way inside the screening room.

It was a smart move for him to not go inside the ticket booth with you, even though he has all the right to. You bet he knows you’d claw his eyes out if you had the chance.

“You have to be kidding me.”

“What? I can’t buy tickets for a movie?” he asks, innocence dripping off his tongue.

Breathing deeply– while trying to contain the demon that’s begging to crawl out of your insides and tear him into 25 different pieces– you smile ironically at the male, gulping before you speak. “That would be 12 dollars, please,” you say, your customer service voice turning kind of eerie.

Not even letting the male choose his seats– he lost the privilege when he decided to come and buy the tickets for your favorite movie– you print out two tickets with the worst possible view (the ones in the first row, far right. If Sunwoo loses his neck because he has to look up at the screen for the entirety of the movie, well, who are you to hate that) and offer them to your coworker.

Like a mind game, the male slips them into his pocket without even looking at them, not breaking eye contact with you sitting behind the booth. 

“Have a nice day,” he says as he takes two steps back before fully turning and escaping through the front door, figure dashing towards the old Prius parked in front of the building.

Bawling your hands into fists, you try the breathing exercises you found the other week. Calm your body and your mind, the title said. You knew you’d need those when you saved the post into one of your boards on Pinterest.

Still, you can’t help yourself. You simply cannot. You let it out– it’s not healthy to keep negativity inside. 

He can’t hear you, but you still mutter a spiteful “I hope you choke,” under your breath as you settle back into the uncomfortable surface of the chair.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – YOU’VE GOT MAIL (1998)

Remember the time you said you didn’t really mind having more shifts in November, because it meant a bigger paycheck? Yeah… that was true. For a few days.

Until you got a phone call one day from none other than Kim Sunwoo– whose number you didn’t even want to save into your contacts, but after his insisting that it’s for work purposes, did so under the name ‘dumpster raccoon’– telling you that you have to get to work immediately, that his dad said so, and that it’s an emergency. 

Do you believe him? No. Absolutely not. 

His tone of voice was too calm to be in an emergency. If his dad wanted you to come to work today, he could’ve called you himself instead of making his son do it. And also, you really don’t know what’s so important to take care of on a Wednesday, since it’s the slow day of the week, but still– you angrily took off the facemask from your face before the timer even went off, shut your laptop with a half-watched episode of The office in your Netflix window, changed out of your comfy clothes and marched towards the cinema. 

Because you never know. He might be saying the truth, after all. And if that was the case, you didn’t want to be caught disobeying your boss.

You get to the old movie theater on the corner of the town center at 4 in the afternoon. The sky is already getting dark and you feel the coldness of November seeping into your bones, and so you waste no time in getting inside and chasing the heat of the vintage-looking interior. Your boots make a thudding sound as you walk across the hall, seeing Sunwoo sitting in the ticket booth in his usual habitat: with his phone in his hands and his feet up on the table, chewing on his favorite strawberry mints. Now this sight screams emergency if you’ve ever seen one.

“What was so important for you to call me to work and then chill in the ticket booth all afternoon?” you ask, spite slipping off your tongue with every word you speak. 

Sunwoo looks up at you from under his eyelashes, hair still slightly shielding his eyes. He doesn’t even have his uniform on– there’s a gray hoodie enveloping his torso (you swear he lives in this garment. You wonder if he even washes it sometimes) and black jeans hanging off his hips– and the more you stare at him, the more you feel like punching him in the face.

“Oh,” he hums, stretching out his limbs from the hours of sitting on the chair unmoving, “dad said to tell you to clean the screening room. Since it’s Thursday tomorrow, and all.”

The look on his face is innocent. He looks like he just told you the most casual piece of information– and truth be told, he kind of did. The whole thing is just not making any sense right now. 

“I should clean the screening room today? You’re on the clock, though, why don’t you do it?” you ask, frustration clearly written all over your face. You were looking forward to having a self-care day today, so you can only imagine how tired of his endeavors you are right in this moment. 

“Yeah, but I am on ticket booth duty, so I can’t,” he shrugs, frowning a little to prove his nonexistent point.

“It’s Wednesday. It’s not busy. You know you can do both.”

“Look, it’s not me, it’s my dad–”

“Is it? Is it, Sunwoo?” you huff, arms flying into the air. “Or are you just using me to do the work you don’t feel like doing? Because it really does seem like that right now,” you bite, running your hand through your hair in exasperation. 

“Do you want me to call him?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice suddenly threatening. 

A heartbeat passes. You continue to have a staring contest with him. The fury inside of you rages like a storm. Still, you nod to the feeling of authority coming from your actual boss, and so you wordlessly turn on your heel and march towards the screening room, ready to clean the place in the least amount of time so you can go home and back to your selfcare endeavors. (You’re adding printing out Sunwoo’s face and throwing darts at it to the list of activities. You think you really need that right now.)

The screening room is dark when you come inside, and as you reach towards the lightswitch, you almost fear something jumping at you. See, the traumatic response from being locked up in the toilet from your coworker is still very present in your bones. When you stop working here, you’re going to ask for financial compensation for all the damage this boy did on your mental health.

You walk down the aisle of seats and try to inspect the damage. No movies air on Wednesday and there was only one kids movie going on Tuesday, so you can either expect it to be almost clean, or full of snacks that fell off the hands of grabby children during the cartoon. The more you inspect the place, though, the more it seems like… somebody already cleaned it before?

The floor is clean. The laminated surface under the seats has no smudge of dirt on it, like someone already mopped the place. And when you think back, the bins were empty as well.

The screening room was definitely cleaned before.

Which means that Sunwoo brought you here for absolutely nothing.

Suddenly, the lights go out. The whole room falls into darkness, and the anger inside of your veins very quickly mixes with panic as you try to climb up the stairs on the side of the screening room and escape. Your throat gets dry as you yell for your coworker, not really caring if your next outburst is going to get you fired or not.

“Kim Fucking Sunwoo, why the fuck did you call me to clean an already cleaned screening room?!” you yell, not really knowing if he hears you or not. Doesn’t matter– it feels cathartic to do so anyway.

Your feet stumble on the awkwardly-long stairs, your figure almost falling to the ground. Managing to hold yourself up and steady your body before your head hits the sharp corner of one of the stairs and makes you die, you continue on with your small tangent. “You really think this is funny? You’re having fun pranking me all the time? I hate your guts, Kim Sunwoo, and I hope you burn in hell!”

A bright light suddenly illuminates the screening room, coming from somewhere behind you. When you look over your shoulder, the screen is white for a few moments before the opening credits of a Jerry Buckheimer film flash on the big surface, halting you in your movements. The sound is a little too loud in the speakers, but it gets adjusted the moment you almost lose your hearing. The moment you see Nicolas Cage appear, it’s clear as day.

There’s a movie playing. And the movie playing is National treasure. 

You think you’re hallucinating. This is surely a fata morgana.

Standing in the middle of the screening room, your mouth hangs agape and your eyes go wide as you watch the first few scenes of the movie. Ben Gates already learns about the hidden treasure passed down through American history when you feel a slight nudge to your shoulder, making you turn your head to see a tall figure staring you down with a bucket of popcorn in their hands.

You are confused. So utterly confused. The movie was on last week. You’d know– you worked the snack booth that day. The screening room is empty and it’s Wednesday– what’s going on? 

“Can you sit? Or are you just going to watch the movie standing in the aisle,” Sunwoo grunts, balancing the big bucket of popcorn and two drinks in his large hands, the sight comical and almost making you want to watch him suffer some more.

Caught off guard, though, you let him back you into the aisle of seats, your figure slouching into one of the red cushions like a rag doll. Sunwoo takes place next to you, placing the big bucket of popcorn into your lap, before he settles into a seat as well and focuses his eyes and attention on the movie.

“What… what is this?” you ask, frozen in the seat. 

“Hm?” Sunwoo frowns, looking at you. “National treasure,” he hums, “I thought you’d know, since you threw a scene about it that one time.”

“I- I know that, I just…” you trail off, still surprised at the turn of events, “what’s going on right now…?”

“We’re watching National treasure,” he notes, talking to you as if you were slow.

“What…?”

A sigh escapes Sunwoo’s lips at your utter confusion, his hand coming up to the bucket of popcorn in your lap and throwing a handful of the snack into his mouth before speaking. “Look, Y/N. You said you wanted to watch your favorite movie in the cinema, so that’s what you’re doing. Enjoy my owner’s son privileges for once,” he shrugs, watching as your face morphs into an unreadable expression.

That explanation satisfies you for a bit. The shock in your insides, though? Still present.

There’s something about the whole gesture that makes your stomach feel uneasy. Sunwoo did something nice for you– out of the kindness of his own heart– and you really don’t know why he would even think of something like this. You two aren’t on the best terms either, after all. Maybe he finally went crazy.

Or maybe you did and this was all the result of your imagination. Either or. 

Yeah, you must be the one that’s gone batshit insane. Surely. You’re certain of the fact when you reach for the popcorn and accidentally touch his hand, the two of you deciding to get some at the same time, and your stomach does a flip and your brain makes a sign for you to quickly retract your hand– but the feeling of his slightly cold hand against your fingertips is now engraved into your memory and won’t leave and let you focus on the movie no matter how hard you try.

“You wouldn’t have to do this if you just let me switch schedules with you that time,” you note, “just saying.”

“I couldn’t,” he shrugs.

“Huh? But you bought two tickets..?”

“Yeah, but those were for my friends. I had to drive my mum down to grandmas that day, so I couldn’t go or take your shift that day,” he hums, not once breaking eye contact with the screen.

“If you would’ve just said so, I wouldn’t have made a scene about it–”

“Yeah… but I enjoy watching you make a scene,” he grins, shifting his attention towards you for a second with that lazy smirk playing with his lips. His hair is falling into his eyes and you have the urge to get it out of his face with a motion of your hand while also scolding him like a mother to finally get a haircut, just so you could see the twinkle in his mischievous orbs.

“You need to get serious help, then,” you grunt, pointing your gaze back towards the screen, unable to look at his face for any longer. He’s being annoying again. You’re annoyed.

“Probably,” he admits.

You two sit in silence for a while, the only sound accompanying you being the movie playing out on the big screen in front of you. You think this is the calmest you two have ever been around each other, and you’re starting to think that if Sunwoo just didn’t talk, you two could even get along.

Something touches the side of your thigh in the darkness of the room. Eyes darting to the source, you notice Sunwoo’s thigh pressing against yours, the cause of his obnoxious man-spreading, and something about the closeness of his body and the smell of his citrusy cologne makes you feel like your chest is heaving in on itself. You can’t stand him around you. You two can’t share this close of a space.

“Are you not leaving?” you ask.

“No,” he hums, “should I be?”

“Well, you’re on the clock…”

The man snickers, shaking his head in disbelief. “Y/N, you and I both know that the possibility of someone coming to buy a ticket on a Wednesday afternoon is close to zero. Me being there makes no difference in today’s sales.”

His hand knocks into yours again as you reach for more popcorn. You gulp, nodding. “Right…”

“And I wanted to see the movie to see if it’s really that good to make a scene about it,” he teases, another playful look sent your way from the corner of his eye.

You grunt, rolling your eyes. Oh how you hate his guts…

And even though you love the movie, you pray for it to end quickly. The more time you spend with Sunwoo forced into your zone of comfort, the more uncomfortable you feel– even the slightest movement of his body affects you and makes your brain turn on overdrive. It’s strange and it’s weird, and you don’t understand how hatred for a person could manifest in such reactions. 

It’s better that you didn’t notice you two sitting in the love seat. God knows you wouldn’t handle that well. You’d rather die than to hold on to that knowledge.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – CLUELESS (1995)

They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service. As one of the only three employees of the small, vintage cinema on the corner of the town’s square, you can only agree with the sentiment– you have a lot of stories to tell about the wonders of the human brain.

Like that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were ‘too expensive’ – because naturally, you should be able to change the price of them when asked. Or that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were sold out– because naturally, you should add more seats to the screening room just for the two middle-aged women to sit on during the premiere of the newest Orlando Bloom movie. Or when somebody yelled at you for the toilets being full after the movie– naturally, you are supposed to throw people out in the middle of them peeing. Or build new stalls. Either or.

They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service, but truly, you also realize just how rude they can also be for no reason at all.

Much like today. It’s Friday, which means it’s premiere night. The tickets to all movies this week are sold out already, so no one is on ticket booth duty, and much to your relief, Mr Kim took the snack stand himself. Your responsibility for the day is scanning the tickets and then making sure no one is getting inside during the movie without a ticket. 

It’s not a hard job. Not at all– you would even say nothing about working in the cinema is hard, when you don’t have an annoying coworker trying to make your whole life a living hell– but you see, customers love to make your job harder just by being unreasonably rude about things that are clearly out of your control. 

“Sir, I really can’t let you in, I’m sorry,” you say, tone of voice polite despite screaming on the inside. In front of you is standing a tall man, maybe a few years older than you, the expression on his face full of anger and vexation. They say a customer is always right. You agree only when the customer looks like they could wait for you after work and beat you up in the bushes. Sadly, that still doesn’t mean you can let the man inside without a valid ticket.

“What do you mean? Little one, I’m telling you I bought the ticket here, so if you don’t let me in–”

“All tickets purchased for the screening should be able to scan through this, sir, and if it doesn’t work, I am not allowed to let you inside of the cinema,” you try to explain, getting kind of desperate. The line behind him was forming and the movie was supposed to play in a few minutes, so if you wanted to scan all the tickets in time, you had to be quick.

He wouldn’t budge, though. His eyebrows are furrowed and the guy behind him seems to be getting angry as well, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up alert, like a cat when it senses danger. You try your hardest to keep your tone firm, hands clasped politely behind your back. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir, or maybe check in with the owner about the issue? I don’t have the competence to–”

“Listen, I won’t be talking to anyone, because you will let me in, okay?”

“Sir, I can’t-”

Your sentence is cut off by the man again, his fury making you take a step backwards in fear. “And if you don’t, you will see the consequences.”

Gulping, you try to think of a way to get out of this situation. Mr Kim is too far away for you to call, and he is also busy– the line is long and Sunwoo isn’t working today. It’s just the two of you today, so your options are getting slimmer. You can’t let that man in without a working ticket– it seems like the one he’s showing you is either a fake one, or bought in another cinema– but it seems like if you don’t, he’ll have you dead before the next morning. 

“So?”

Opening your mouth to answer (although your brain is still empty and you don’t even know what more to say), a low voice coming from behind you startles you in the middle of your crisis. “Is there a problem here?” 

Turning your head to the source of the voice, you’ve never been more relieved to see Kim Sunwoo in your close proximity. You watch as he puts a rolled-up poster to the ground behind you before he takes another step closer towards your figure, his expression stone cold and glaring at the man in front of you. 

“Your coworker here won’t let me in to watch the movie,” he complains, hand waving around in a threatening way. 

Just having Sunwoo around makes you more confident. Clearing your throat, your eyes dart to your coworker, seeing his face morph into irritation. “It won’t scan his ticket, so…”

“If it won’t scan your ticket, it means it’s invalid and we’re not allowed to let you in,” Sunwoo says, tone of voice way less polite than the one you were using before.

“That’s ridiculous-”

“You are ridiculous,” Sunwoo grunts, annoyance clearly written all over his face. “You were asked to leave, so maybe you should.” 

Truth be told, you’ve been in a couple of arguments with Sunwoo before. In none of them has he ever looked and sounded like this, though. You and Sunwoo argue with spite– sparks flying waiting to start a fire, curses and harsh words thrown around carelessly in moments of heated hatred. His tone is stern, but never threatening. Never mean. Not in the way he’s being right now.

It makes you stare at him wordlessly. He seems to be taking the lead in the situation, reacting territorially to the man in front of him. You can’t say you don’t feel safer with him around– you would be lying.

“Maybe you could just let me in and get this over with–” 

“And maybe you could fuck off,” Sunwoo says back, something in his tone making your stomach feel all light. He looks serious, standing his ground, and the man finally seems to get the memo that he’s not watching the premiere tonight, because he backs off and grits his teeth at the male.

“Your boss will hear about this,” he threatens, making Sunwoo chuckle.

“I’m sure he will.”

Sympathetic looks are thrown your way from the women in the line behind that can finally come up to you so you scan their tickets. You smile at each one and try to seem unaffected by the exchange, but the memory of it still lingers in your brain and doesn’t make you rest easy as you greet the rest of the customers. 

You didn’t even realize Sunwoo was still standing next to you, watching you work. He seems to recognise your shaken-up composure, tone of voice sympathetic and quiet as he asks: “You okay?”

“What?” you ask, surprised by the question, “oh. Yeah, I’m fine. He was just… being a bitch, the usual.”

“Yeah,” he snickers, “why didn’t you just scream at him like you do to me? I bet that would scare him away,” he notes, making you roll your eyes at the comment.

“Because he looked like he could beat me up, Sunwoo.”

“And I don’t?” he gasps, suddenly offended.

You scan the boy up and down, pretending to think it over for a few before you shake your head. “No,” you shrug, “I could beat you up.”

“Excuse you?” he gasps, crossing his arms at his chest in a defensive stance, the shock on his face mixing in with amusement. 

“Don’t believe me? Wanna try?” you test, the conversation suddenly flowing freely, without you even noticing. You don’t pay it much thought, but you guess getting along with Sunwoo is easier when he’s on your side. Most of the time, he’s not, though– and maybe that’s the problem.

“Okay,” he nods, “meet me in the back when you’re off. No weapons allowed, we’ll do it the street style. This is a battle of fists,” he points a finger at you, the sentence making you sigh dreamily and point your eyes towards the ceiling.

“You can’t even imagine how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Sunwoo smiles at that– that dumb, boyish smile you usually so despise– and shakes his head at your antics. The conversation dies down a bit after the exchange– with you scanning the tickets and trying your hardest to make it through the line before the movie starts, when your coworker, dressed in none other than his signature gray hoodie and black jeans, nudges you with his elbow. “Want me to stay for a bit, or are you good now?”

“I can take care of myself, Sunwoo,” you sigh, “you can go about your day.”

“Well, it didn’t seem like it a few minutes ago–”

“I can take care of myself when I’m not confronted with a tall muscled man that is threatening me, Sunwoo,” you repeat, looking at the rest of the line, “so with him gone now, you can go about your day. What are you even doing here, by the way? I thought you were off today.”

“I am,” he nods, rocking a little in his place, shifting weight from his heels towards his toes, “I was just… here to drop off something for you,” he says, clearing his throat and pointing towards the poster he was holding when he first approached you, the shiny tube now resting against the nearest wall. 

You shoot the boy a curious look, eyebrows furrowed in question. You don’t get to ask for clarification about the character of the poster, because he abruptly cuts off your train of thought, speaking fast as if to avoid making any more conversation with you. “I’ll see you in the back after you’re done for that fist fight, then. Bye!”

And before you get a chance to say anything back, Sunwoo swiftly turns on his heel and awkwardly marches towards the front door. You don’t have much time to inspect the thing he dropped off for you, but after you’re done with scanning the tickets and have time to breathe when the movie starts, you allow yourself to peek inside– 

only to see a National treasure poster staring back at you, surface glossy and glimmering, as if you just opened a chest full of gold. 

As you take the poster to the staff room with you (while also wearing a huge, embarrassing grin on your face for someone staring at the face of Nicolas Cage), making sure it’s safe and sound until you can bring it home with you, you wonder why you haven’t been civil with Kim Sunwoo before.

It’s good to have a taste of his owner’s son privileges sometimes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – ME BEFORE YOU (2016)

The day is Friday, the 1st of December. Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays' event is over and while Fridays are always the premiere days, meaning you usually have to work the evenings either in the snack booth or in the ticket booth, your boss told you you can have the night off under one condition– you come in the morning (since you told him your classes are done for the semester, he’s been keen on making you work at random times of the day) and help Sunwoo with Christmas decorations in the cinema.

And, well, who are you to say no to a free evening? Maybe you can finally have that self-care time you’ve been needing before your exam season starts.

“Can you get the ladder from the back?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice not at all interested. You don’t know what the reasoning behind his mood is, but you figure it’s either the fact that he had to get up before 12, or the fact that he doesn’t really seem like the type to like decorating.

“Why don’t you get it?” you huff, wiping your forehead off the sweat that’s cumulated on it over the time you spent bringing out all the boxes full of decorations out of the staff room. “I brought everything in, maybe you can do some work for once.”

One would think your dynamics with Kim Sunwoo would shift after he’s been nice to you on multiple occasions. And sure, you don’t really fight with him as often and he hasn’t pulled a prank on you in a while, but some days, his whole presence is still just as annoying to you as it’s been for the past couple of months. There’s not really much you can do about it– especially not when he’s bossing you around and not doing any actual work himself.

“I built the christmas tree,” he grunts, opening one of the boxes full of ornaments, squinting at the contains with disgust on his face. “And I put up all the other useless stuff before you got here too,” he says, pointing a glare at you. 

Looking around the theater, you notice various types of decorations all over the place. There’s some mistletoe hanging off the ceiling (which has you wondering how he even got it there in the first place) and garlands framing all the doorways– the greenery making the whole place decorated in a very vintage tone. It’s fitting to the theme of the cinema, though, and you can tell that Sunwoo really can’t be arsed to do any better, so you don’t mention it out loud in favor of avoiding another one of your petty cat fights.

Admitting your defeat, you storm back into the staff room and carry out the tall ladder, struggling to fit through the doorways and to cross the corners, praying to all higher forces that you don’t accidentally scratch off pieces of the wall on your way to Sunwoo.

You put down the metal construction with a loud thud, making the boy look up at you from beneath his bangs, the silent curse evident in his eyes. You don’t know what’s up with him, but again, you won’t ask. You try to tell yourself that you don’t really care either, but with every glance towards his direction, the question keeps bugging you and dancing around your brain. 

You force yourself not to care.

Watching as he tries to untangle the Christmas lights, struggle evident in the frustration written all over his face, you sigh and walk over to him, taking the bundle of wire out of his hands and threading your skilled fingers through the lengthy cable. You’re an expert in untangling– you don’t own bluetooth headphones, so you do this pretty much every day before listening to some music. Your headphones love to tangle in your pocket no matter how neatly you try to keep them in your pants– it’s a mystery. Almost like the Bermuda triangle. 

“I can do it myself,” Sunwoo huffs, eyebrows furrowing when he watches you work your magic.

“You seemed like it too,” you ironically note, letting the spiteful side of you win, enjoying yourself when you’re rewarded by the snarky roll of Sunwoo’s eyes– everything is back to normal. You two aren’t friends, you don’t like to be in each other’s presence, and no number of shiny stolen posters and private sessions in the screening room will ever change that.

“Hold this,” you say, thrusting the end of the cord into his hand, walking a few meters away from him as you detangle the lights, watching as he impatiently stomps the floor with his heel, reminding you of Snowball from The secret life of pets movie.

When you’re done and the Christmas lights are now a straight line of wire, you slowly walk over to the tall tree in the middle of the room, wrapping the lights around the fake forest-green needles. You’re glad that the lights are long enough to cover the whole thing and you don’t have to untangle another ones, and when you’re done, you watch your coworker plug them in, examining the small, colorful light bulbs. 

“Okay, now the ornaments,” you say, more to yourself than to anybody in the room, as you waltz over to the boxes and take out the decorations varying in shapes and sizes. You don’t really know what color scheme Mr Kim wants you to go for– and you doubt Sunwoo is aware either, so you just take out the ornaments you find the most pretty and hang them all over the tree, making sure each branch is covered.

Sunwoo stands around for a while, unmoving as he watches you, before he sighs to himself and finally decides to help. You leave him be, thinking that it’s for the best if you two don’t speak today when he’s in such a bad mood, but you break that promise almost immediately when you stare back at the tree after retrieving some more ornaments from the box to your right and notice the almost painful clash of colors.

You should’ve known you can’t trust a man with decorating. The beautiful contrast of the baby pink and brown ornaments you put on the tree is now ruined by the green ones you intentionally left on the bottom of the box. The colors don’t go together at all and you want to claw your eyes out every second you have to stare at it.

“Sunwoo, those colors don’t go together at all,” you say, point and blank– no sugarcoating, no offensive words, just straight facts.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that tree looks terrifying, and it’s all because you ruined it,” you say.

Okay, maybe you are overreacting just the slightest. But isn’t there fun in making your coworker completely out of his mind? Is this your roles being reversed for the first time? Are you finally winning this little game? 

Nevertheless, you are enjoying the outburst that follows from Sunwoo. Mainly because he looks like a child throwing a tantrum as he huffs and takes off the green ornaments he put on to the tree and throws the handful back into the cardboard box, not really caring if they break or not. You’ll be replaying this scene in your head forever before you go to sleep, for the absolute frustration and annoyance on his face is one of your biggest trophies. Right now, though, you’re battling the urge to laugh.

“Fine, do it yourself, then,” Sunwoo says as he walks away from the tree, choosing to sit on the floor cross-legged, taking out his phone and scrolling through social media.

Again, you don’t know what’s gotten into him today, but you force yourself not to care. You have a job to finish here so you can go home and enjoy your day, and that’s why exactly you just shrug and finish putting on the pretty ornaments, admiring your work every once in a while when you take a break and stare on the tall tree, kind of breathless from the beauty.

You’re not really big on Christmas, but you must admit that this is fun. 

The sound of Sunwoo swiping through Instagram reels is the only thing accompanying your actions, and as you look over your shoulder and see his almost sad face, you bite your lip just to not ask him what’s the matter. You’re not supposed to care. And you don’t.

“Can’t you put some festive music on?” you ask instead, your lips just begging to have a conversation with the male, despite your best judgment.

“No,” Sunwoo barks back, not even taking his eyes off the phone as the sound of the reel changes into another one, a swipe of his thumb across the screen showing him another video. 

Nodding to yourself, you carefully try to pick out your next words. Not really sure how to address the male, you choose to approach him with a hint of humor you’re not sure he’ll appreciate. “What’s up with you? You’re bitchier than usual,” you say, scanning the male with cautious eyes.

Sunwoo stops for a while– a millisecond of him halting his scrolling, an action you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t trying to see any shift in his composure– before he speaks up again. “Nothing,” he shrugs.

“Okay,” you say, a tone of voice full of doubt. 

When you conclude that you’re not getting more answers out of him, you nod to yourself and dart back towards the Christmas tree, making sure you make more eye contact with the glossy ornaments than with your coworker sitting behind you on the ground. Not much time passes by before he speaks up again, though, tone of voice quiet and hesitant.

“I’m just not in the mood today,” he sighs, “I have a final next week and it’s stressing me out, I haven’t slept well in quite a few days, my dad’s making me work more than usual and on top of that, I absolutely hate winter.”

“You hate winter?” you choose to focus on the least serious topic of the little rant, not really knowing when your boundaries lay in discussing the more serious ones.

“Yeah,” Sunwoo chuckles, “it’s like a shittier fall. It’s cold and dark all the time. It would be different if it snowed, though. I love it when it snows.”

Snickering at his sudden confession, you shake your head. “You’re like a little kid.”

“I remember you calling me a child once,” Sunwoo hums in agreement.

“That was different,” you say, hoping to cheer the male up at least a bit with your usual quarrel.

“I figured by the way you threw the toilet brush to my chest,” Sunwoo laughs, the memory of torturing you fond in his brain. The poster he gave you almost made you forget about the fact that he managed to make your life a living hell for quite some time– maybe you should consider this a wake-up call.

The conversation quiets down for a bit, even the sound of Sunwoo’s Instagram reels discontinued as you two marvel in the now much more comfortable silence. Testing the waters, you clear your throat before speaking up again. “Don’t worry about that exam, by the way. I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“How would you know?”

“You’re clever. You need to be clever to come up with all various ways to make my life more miserable,” you say, smiling when you hear him let out a breath of air through his nose, signaling a silent laugh.

“Any advice on the sleepless nights?” he asks, tone of voice light and humorous.

“Less things in your head,” you hum, putting the last ornament onto one of the branches, satisfied with your work. “Or melatonin.”

“Noted,” he nods, sharing a smile with you.

Walking over to the boxes stored a few feet away from the male, you open up the slim one thrown on the side, holding up the star. Your eyes meet his, a carefree twinkle in your orbs when you try to cheer up the boy’s inner child by doing a child's favorite activity. “Do you want to put the star on?”

He fails you, though. “No.”

“Why not?”

“You decorated it all yourself, so you can do the star,” he shrugs, not really into your idea.

“Oh come on–”

“I don’t feel like standing up,” Sunwoo grunts, the joy on your insides finally dying down when you get a taste of his usual composure– the one that really can’t be arsed with anything. 

Sighing to yourself, you waltz over to the tall ladder, and despite your biggest worries, you continue climbing up the metal construction even when it wobbles and makes you fear you’re gonna fall. The whole thing is kind of unsteady and makes your heart thump in your throat, but you choose to get it over with and finally climb to the very top, outstretching your arm and putting the star on top of the tree, the decoration process now done and freeing you off your today’s work responsibilities.

Something akin to satisfaction beams in your insides as you climb down the ladder, and now, you’ll write this off to you being a little too excited with the vision of a face mask and popcorn at home– but your leg slips on one of the steps and despite the ladder being now magically steady, your body comes crashing down to the floor.

A yelp fights out of your throat, hands go flying in a desperate need to steady yourself or hold on to something that would make you not fall hard against the marble floor, when a miracle straight down from heaven comes to rescue in a form of flesh holding you up and shielding you from the fall, a grunt landing in your ears when your body settles into soft fabric of dark gray.

Head snapping to the source of the arms around your waist, surprised at the person’s strength used to balance you two on your feet as you fell (well, your knees buckled, but still, they haven’t yet hit the ground), you notice a pair of chocolate orbs staring down at you through a curtain of dark hair, wide eyes scanning your face and breathing out a puff of air.

“Look where you’re stepping next time, for fuck’s sake,” Sunwoo huffs, watching as your brain tries to process the near-death experience.

Registering his arms firmly placed around your waist (now realizing the soft fabric was the hoodie he’s been living in for the past few months), the citrusy scent of his cologne makes your head spin, eyes scanning his face in quick motions, as if not aware of who was your savior. You wonder how he even got to you on time (not really noticing him walking over to the ladder as soon as he saw it wobbling under you, holding it down to keep you from toppling over), and when your eyes curiously gaze at his chapped, yet plush lips, the warmth in your stomach makes you finally snap out of it. 

Untangling yourself out of his limbs, much like you did with the Christmas lights a few minutes ago, you clear your throat and try to get your breathing back to normal. Your knees are a little weak, but you write that off to the shock of falling. 

“This wouldn’t have happened if you just agreed to put the star on,” you complain, straightening your clothes as you walk over to the empty boxes nearby, stacking them into one another and avoiding all possible eye contact with the male.

It’s working– at least that’s what you keep telling yourself– up until you hear him chuckle and see a pair of hands taking the tower of boxes out of your hold, a charming grin sent your way as he walks away from you to the staff room. “If you say so.”

Okay, so it’s not working.

You’re fucked.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE PROPOSAL (2009)

“So… I was thinking,” Sunwoo starts one day, a bundle of rolled-up posters stacked up in his arms like a pyramid, puffs of cold air making clouds appear in front of his face as he speaks, “would you want to go see a movie with me?” he asks, tone of voice casual, as if he was asking you about the weather.

The poster you’re currently putting up into one of the glass holders outside of the cinema almost slips out of your frozen fingers out of shock, your heart skipping a beat. “Huh?” you hum, taking out a container full of pins out of your coat pocket and securing the poster to its designated place. “You want to bring money to your father’s competitor?” you joke.

“What? No,” he quickly replies, furrowing his brows as he shakes his head. “I meant, like, here,” he says, nodding towards the building to prove his point, taking a step aside when you close the glass door of the poster holder and move towards the next one, 3 more movie banners left to put up outside of the cinema. 

The wires in your brain work on full force, trying to clear out any confusion caused by his sudden invitation. Sure, you two have gotten closer ever since you talked with him at the Christmas tree a week ago, but still, you didn’t know it was enough to hang out outside of work hours. 

Instead of focusing the conversation on this unpredictable development, you turn towards clearing out the logistics instead. “How would we even do that? We either work at the same time or you work when I don’t and the other way around,” you say, taking the next poster from him and putting it up.

All of the movies airing the next two weeks are Christmas movies. Some of them are old, some of them are premieres, but still– you can’t really imagine watching a festive movie with your coworker. Up until last week, you thought of him as the next reincarnation of Grinch.

“I could get my sister to switch with me on a day you don’t work,” he hums, sheepish about his preposition. There’s something bashful in his tone, something shy in his gaze as he watches you put up the movie poster, but you try your hardest to ignore it for the sake of your sanity. You’re already having a hard time dealing with the fact that he appeared in your dreams twice since he caught you in his arms last week. You don’t need to add the switch in dynamic to the mix.

“Isn’t she underage?” you ask, snickering.

“Yeah, and?” he shrugs. “It’s a family business, Y/N. Everyone has to be included, underage or not.”

A laugh erupts out of your throat at the comment, shaking your head at the boy in disbelief. 

“What would you even wanna see? Those are all Christmas movies,” you say, moving along and focusing your attention to the glossy material in your fingers.

“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” he says. 

“Oh, it is,” you mutter, “I don’t like Christmas movies.”

Sunwoo grunts. “Well, I don’t really care. I saw your favorite movie with you, so you can return the favor and see my favorite movie with me,” he speaks up, making you roll your eyes at his words.

“There’s no way any of those movies is your favorite,” you note, doubtful tone haunting the boy.

“You wouldn’t know,” he laughs, making your heart do cartwheels at the sound, his teasing making you feel warmth despite the cold breeze trying to make your bones freeze into blocks of ice. 

“I won’t go unless I believe you,” you say, grinning as you close the glass box and take the last poster out of Sunwoo’s hands, watching as the boy puts his frozen fingers into the comfort of his warm jacket, shielding them from the cold. 

“Not fair.”

“Very fair, actually.”

“Oh come on,” he sighs, shaking his head in disagreement, “I thought we could watch a Christmas movie as a celebration to the end of semester,” he says, tone of voice almost pleading.

Securing the last banner into its designated place, you turn towards Sunwoo with an examining look on your face. He seems to be completely serious, eyes big pools of honey as he watches your face morph as you think. Something in your stomach makes it feel like it’s flying, making you clear your throat as you avert your gaze towards the line of Christmas movie posters on the brick wall. “Fine,” you gulp, “so what do you wanna watch?”

“The Polar Express,” he says, pointing towards the A3 scale you put up last, showing one of the movies that were older, but Mr Kim decided to air anyway– as if he was aware.

Fuck, you think. That’s my favorite. 

“Absolutely not,” you cough, “I hate that movie.”

“Huh? How?” he sighs, face full of disappointment. 

“Just because. It’s too long.”

“It’s not even two hours?”

Eyes quickly darting towards the poster, pupils shaking as you look towards the airing dates at the very bottom, you chew on your bottom lip, trying to find a way out. “You’re working on the 18th.”

“Okay, then we can go on the 19th,” Sunwoo says, determined to make you watch the movie with him. Why? You don’t even want to know at this point.

“I go home for Christmas break on the 19th,” you say, shrugging. “See? It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Y/N, come on–”

“Listen, can’t we just go back to hating each other instead of you annoying me about this stupid movie?” you sigh. In the whirlpool of events, you forgot just how insistent Sunwoo could be– who knows, maybe this was the real reason why you were so irritated with him in the first place.

Slowly walking back towards your workplace, hearing Sunwoo’s sneakers hit the ground behind you as he trails after you like a lost puppy, a sense of momentarily victory flows through your veins when you recognise that you found your way out. There was no way Mr Kim would let his underage daughter work instead of Sunwoo, and you truly were leaving home the evening of 19th. You already had a train ticket– you’re not gonna change your plans because of a man you despised just a few days ago.

“I never really hated you, by the way. Besides, you’re only saying that because you hate the movie,” Sunwoo grunts, chiming in front of you– making you think he’s being petty and doesn’t want to talk to you anymore, surprising you when he opens the door for you and offers you a solemn gaze, waiting for you to walk through the entryway and go back to work. (For you, it’s sitting in the ticket booth in silence. For Sunwoo, it’s pretending to work in the back, since his dad is absent today again)

Reciprocating his gaze, noticing the disappointment behind your coworker’s eyes, you feel something in your stomach drop, the weight of it so heavy you quickly avert your look. 

“Maybe,” you shrug.

And maybe, the true reason is something completely else. 

The words resonate through your brain– ‘I never really hated you, by the way’. Funny. Then what were all those months of torture all about?

You decide you no longer want answers.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – WHEN HARRY MET SALLY (1989)

You can’t believe you’re doing something nice for Kim Sunwoo.

Shoes hitting the gravel, your scarf pulled up so it covers your nose from the ice cold air, a hat hugging your head in warmth and shielding you from the aggressive weather, you start to contemplate your choices and your next moves. A sigh escapes your throat when your eyes land on the marquee above the entrance of the movie theater, teeth chewing on the inside of your cheek as you shift your weight from one foot to another.

Pulling out your phone to check the time, a shiny 7:24PM stares back at you, pushing you to walk up to the door of your workplace on your day off, 24 minutes after the beginning of The polar express. 

You feel silly. You feel oh so stupid when you push the door open and your body is immediately engulfed in warmth, the yellow dim lights of the cinema making your eyes slowly adjust to the brightness contrasting the darkness of the outside world. You feel like you must have gone crazy, especially when your insides start to get all light and bubbly, hints of nerves tingling at the tips of your fingertips and the deepest corners of your stomach. There’s no turning back now, you tell yourself– and when your feet automatically take you to the ticket booth, gaze landing on the boy with his bangs in his eyes and an expression worthy of a kicked puppy on his face, you suddenly feel like your trip to the cinema was all worth it.

Clearing your throat, you notify your coworker of your presence, his big, doe eyes staring at you in surprise. Sunwoo’s mouth goes agape, shock overtaking his features when he takes in your appearance. (You bet he thinks you look laughable– your eyes teary from the cold and your figure stoic, numb limbs hanging by your side.)

“What are you doing here?” he asks, the question not as aggressive as it sounded out of your lips every time he paid a visit to the cinema on his days off for all these months.

“Uh… I forgot some things in the back and I wanted to take them home tomorrow, so I came back for them,” you hum, the practiced excuse slipping out of your lips with ease, “can you come help me?” 

Sunwoo looks even more surprised at your question– although there is now a hint of confusion in the mix. What could you possibly have in the back to need his help with? For as far as he knows, you only ever kept your work uniform in your locker. “What? Can’t you get it yourself…?” he asks, noticing as you shake your head in disapproval.

“It’s… it’s on the top of the lockers and I can’t reach it, so-”

“Grab a chair…?” 

You didn’t really expect to have Sunwoo question your half-assed excuse. Truly, you thought this was going to go smoothly– but knowing Kim Sunwoo, you should’ve known it was never going to go the way you planned. You’re determined to win, though. 

And so it’s the time to bring out the big guns– men never say no when you praise them and make yourself look incompetent.

“Please? I don’t feel like bringing a chair and you’re tall enough. It will only take a second…” you pout, watching as the male in front of you sighs and stands up from his seat, nodding at your humble request.

Sunwoo follows you as you walk down the corridor, your heart thumping with the start of your little plan. Your steps are calculated and your movements carefully programmed, the nervousness in your stomach making you even more giddy with every meter of distance you two cross. 

Before you two get a chance to make it to the back, you make a swift turn and open the doors to one of the rooms on the left of the hall, dragging Sunwoo by his hand and tugging him inside. His body stumbles against yours, but the door closes behind him faster than he can react to the impact. Steadying the boy back to his feet, you watch him with anticipation, awaiting his reaction.

The truth is, you haven’t thought the plan out this far. The depiction of it in your brain always ended with you sneaking him into the projecting room and his curious eyes peering into yours. Something about the image of the events always made you feel too overwhelmed– you never dared to imagine the situation further. (That would mean admitting some hidden desires to yourself, so you never even tried. That all makes this situation twice as nerve-wrecking, though.)

“What… are we doing here?” he asks, eyes darting around the darkness of the projection room, the only light illuminating his pretty features being the movie playing behind the glass of the small booth.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to watch The polar express with me?” you ask, voice a few octaves higher than usual. 

“I… did…” he mumbles, confusion making him stumble over his own words.

“Well, you are working and I leave tomorrow, so I figured I had to find a way…” you shrug, watching as Sunwoo looks at you a little frozen, big eyes staring you down, gears turning in his head. You can’t really read him– you don’t really know if he’s going to laugh at you or send you home for ruining his shift. You don’t know if he appreciates the gesture, or if he thinks you’re being embarrassing. You don’t know if he registers the slight tremble of your hands and the lightness of your breathing, you don’t know if he realizes how much his reaction could make your day or completely ruin it (just like always), and so, you panic– and when you panic, you ramble. “I know we are technically not supposed to be here– well, me, at least– but I think that being with the owner’s son could make my boss let me off even if he somehow finds out, which I doubt he will, but–”

Sunwoo’s face starts slowly morphing, the slightest of shifts slowly adding up to a change of expression, having the male break out into the biggest, happiest grin you’ve ever seen him sport. His eyes light up and glaze your features in the softest of touches, his head shaking in disbelief. “Oh, you’re adorable.”

“What?” you ask, your heart doing seven somersaults and five cartwheels, eyes a big pool of surprise.

“You did this for me?” he beams, his grin so big and pretty it takes your breath away. Butterfly wings tickle in your stomach at the sight, having you mentally curse yourself– hold it together, Y/N. 

“I- I mean, I didn’t really do anything, we just sneaked in–”

“This is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me,” Sunwoo hums, the teasing tone making its comeback in his voice, “actually, this might be the first sweet thing you’ve ever done for me–”

“Well, okay,” you roll your eyes, an embarrassed laugh dragging out of your throat as you turn on your heel and walk closer to the little table in the opposite end of the room, needing to avert your gaze from the boy for at least a second. The air is suddenly too heavy and it’s hard for you to breathe, heat rushing to your cheeks. 

Eyes focusing on the screen in front of you, your brain tries hard to focus on your favorite Christmas movie. Failing, your head running thoughts full of conflicting emotions and erratic exclamation marks screaming the name of the boy behind you, you ask yourself how and when exactly you’ve gotten yourself into this mess.

Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten this job in the first place.

Ears painfully alert, listening to each sound heard in the small projecting room– the shuffling of Sunwoo’s feet as he nears your figure, the muffled noise of the movie playing in the screening room in front of you, the resonance of your own heartbeat in your ears as Sunwoo’s hands suddenly sneak around your middle, your jacket squeaking from the contact of his limbs as he hugs you.

“What–”

“Don’t fight me, Y/N. Just this once,” he hums, voice deep, but still a bit hesitant. It’s like he’s walking on unsteady land, cautious of his movements in fear of making you run away. He’s in a new territory, in your personal space– the scent of his cologne fills your nostrils again as his head settles itself on your shoulder, the two of you silently watching the movie for a few seconds, not really knowing how to proceed.

There’s something intimate in the way he holds you, in the way the movie is a mere background noise to the marathon of your thoughts, the blue light illuminating your faces as you both try your hardest to keep your cool. 

A flashing thought of just how much you from a few months ago would hate the position it’s  in right now passes by your brain, making you instantly feel foolish. Oh how much you’d love it if you stood here unaffected right now– there’s no way to battle the warmth flooding your insides right at this moment, though.

“This is nice,” he mumbles, voice barely louder than a whisper. “Thank you,” he says, your insides squeezing at the sincerity. It’s not often you get to see this side of Sunwoo– the sweet, patient one, the side of him that makes you feel safe in his arms and appreciated with the soft tone in his words. And while you realize you don’t hate the playful side of him just as much as you thought you did, you must admit the novelty of the situation makes you feel a bit more joyful than you’d like to admit.

The weight of his head disappears from your shoulder, making you feel momentarily disappointed by the action. You expect him to pull away and take a seat on the chair, to finally focus on the movie playing in front of your eyes, the thought alone making your spirit fall. The fire in your inside lights up like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline just as fast again, though, when you feel soft lips come in contact with your cheek.

They stay only for a second before they disappear, an airy laugh landing in your ear a second later. “Please don’t run away now,” he says, tone of voice uncertain, telling you that now the ball is in your court– your next actions could either make him the happiest man on Earth, or completely break him. 

The choice is yours.

Your head turns his way, eyes instantly locking with his brown orbs searching for any signs of discomfort in your face. Slowly, as if still processing the events of before, your eyes trail over his features– the awfully handsome way his face was sculpted, the softness of his eyes and the sharpness of his jaw, the slope of his nose and the plushness of his lips. They’re not as chapped today, making you wonder if he started wearing vaseline, and before you get a chance to stop yourself, you start wondering of the way his lips would feel on yours, imagination running wild. 

He heaves out a shaky breath, your eyes darting back into his– as if to ask for approval, see if he’s okay with it. There’s a dazy look in them, gaze pressed to your lips, then to your eyes, then your lips again– a look you take as an invitation as you act against all your best judgment and lean towards him, pressing your mouth against his.

As if testing the waters, you make the kiss short. It was long enough to engrave it into your brain, though– to remember the way his perfectly shaped lips pressed against yours, the way the world stopped just for a moment, the way he tasted of the strawberry mints he always eats at work whenever he has nothing to do. 

Sunwoo seems to find liking in the action– lips glazing yours again, pressing another peck to them before he deepens the kiss, the tingling in your fingertips intensifying and the excitement bubbling in your frame making you turn in your position, front facing him and pressing up against his chest. His hands quickly adjust, slipping under your opened jacket and settling on your clothed waist, the slightest contact making your knees weak and settle your bottom against the table behind you, hands grabbing the fabric of his sweatshirt. 

He pulls back to catch some air, a boyish grin breaking out on his face, forehead knocking against yours in a sweet, giddy manner. “I’ve wanted to do this for months,” he huffs.

The sentiment makes a thousand question marks appear in your head– why did he make your life a living hell, then? Why did he pull pranks on you and make you hate every second spent with him? Why did he make you so furious each time and argued with you about the smallest things? How could Sunwoo possibly have wanted this for months, when you just only started noticing his attractiveness a few weeks ago?

“Why–”

“I’ll tell you later,” he says, cutting you off as he presses his lips against yours again, your mouth automatically welcoming his presence. Brain erased of all previous questions, his kisses working like a spell, you focus all your senses on the man in front of you.

Having your hands feeling up his abdomen, Sunwoo hesitantly asks for entrance with his tongue, running it along your lower lip until you welcome him in. You like this type of power battle much more than the one you had going on until now, and with each new movement, you feel yourself falling apart under him. 

His fingers tug down on the sides of your jacket, pulling it down. You don’t need it anymore– with how heated you’ve gotten, you are actually kind of happy that it is gone. One of his cold hands sneaks under the hem of your jumper, fingertips trailing up and down your side, the other one tugs down the hat from your head, discarding it somewhere on the table behind you before it finds its place on the side of your jaw, angling your head in a way that allows him to deepen the kiss even more, the contact of your lips growing firmer as seconds go by. 

Your scarf is swiftly untangled off your neck, Sunwoo’s skilled lips blindly trailing down the side of your mouth towards your jaw, feathery kisses ticking you before he gets more bold and sucks on the side of your throat, a shaky breath shyly escaping your lips.

“Sunwoo…” you say, tone of voice not really present, no real intention behind the call of his name.

The boy hums against your neck, having you gasp again when he lightly bites the softness of your skin, your hands shooting up to tangle in his hair when he licks the spot to soothe it after. Threading your fingers through his locks to ground yourself, you can’t believe you ever hoped for him to get a trim.

His hands firmly hold the underside of your thighs before he hoists you up on the table, continuing his confident attack on your neck when you’re sitting comfortably on the hard surface. It’s not like you didn’t feel excited, the tiniest bit thrilled at the mental image of his possessive marks all over your throat, but you were glad it was freezing outside and you could wear a turtleneck to hide the bruises from your family tomorrow. He nuzzles his nose into the hot skin of your neck, the action making you grin in ecstasy and endearment.

Getting lost in the way he was handling you, his touches firm, yet delicate, acted out in a way that makes you feel safe and comfortable with his passionate ministrations, you almost don’t notice the door swinging open, the figure of your boss like striking like the lightning in the doorway of the screening room.

“Sunwoo!”

The boy jumps, his body quickly ungluing itself off yours, as he listens to his father scolding him. “I don’t care what you two have going on over here, but you’re on clock! There’s a line waiting for the tickets for tomorrow’s movie and someone has to sell them right now.”

The boy clears his throat, voice a little hoarse. “Coming,” he says, trying to keep his composure. His hair’s a little tousled, cheeks rosy and lips puffed– the image that will haunt you in your sweetest nightmares now– and before you get a chance to say anything or let your brain process the events of the last few minutes, your panic works faster, making you act.

Quickly scattering for your things, you run out of the projecting room without saying goodbye to either Sunwoo or your boss, never once looking back.

You think of what you’ve done on your way home, bones freezing now that they weren’t in his presence. You try hard to regret your actions, but you don’t find it in you to do so– it’s kind of hard with the feeling of his lips still playing with yours.

Even though you’d hate to admit it just a few weeks ago, you must do it now. 

Kim Sunwoo does make a really good kisser.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005)

There are many thoughts swimming around your brain as you walk through the coldness of the town the next day, your duffel bag hanging off your shoulder. There’s a conflict between the actions of your body and your thoughts – feet on their journey to the train station, but head stuck in the small projection room of your workplace, your coworker’s kisses occupying your every sober thought.

It’s not surprising, but you haven't heard from Sunwoo since you left the cinema last night. Not a single text or a call– but you figure that this is just your dynamic. Sunwoo’s never been much of a texter when it came to you. He’s never had the reason to text or call you, unless it was work-related, and you think it will stay that way, even though you did make out with him just last night.

Maybe he regretted it. Maybe he just didn’t feel like pondering on the events any longer– maybe it was just a one-time thing for him and he didn’t put much significance to it. You wouldn’t know– it’s not like you’re suddenly an expert on the way he feels and operates. 

You, though? How do you feel about the turn of events? Despite not wanting to admit it to yourself, the answer came to you the second you tried to fall asleep last night, every soaring thought in your brain showing you the reflection of his dazed look, desires of wanting him to look at you that way all the time oh so skilfully infesting themselves into every crevice of your neocortex. You want Sunwoo to like you. You want Sunwoo to want you. You want Sunwoo to be so enchanted with your existence that he thinks about you before he goes to sleep at night– just like you have done for the past few weeks. 

The answer comes to you again when you feel something wet fall on the top of your cheek, making you turn your eyes towards the sky. Your breathing comes out in puffs of air as you watch the magic happen right in front of you– and as you watch the snowflakes scatter all around the place, you are in another inner argument. While the rational side of your brain is screaming at you to keep walking to the station so you don’t miss your train home, the delirious side is cooperating with your feet for once, your figure crossing to the other side of the street and walking over to the place you could get to even with your eyes closed at this point; all because you suddenly remember the conversation you had with Sunwoo when you were putting on ornaments to the Christmas tree.

It’s the first snow of the season. 

Kim Sunwoo loves it when it snows.

Speed-walking towards the vintage movie theater at the corner of the town’s square, you feel something akin to childish excitement bubbling in your insides, a hint of nervousness inviting itself into your insides when you push the door open and aim straight towards the ticket booth, where you know Sunwoo will be sitting, wasting another shift away.

He’s there– eyes pressed towards the window, gaze following the snowflakes kissing the cold ground. You expected more excitement in his character, more childlike joy in his figure– and after taking in his composure: shoulders slouching and fingers picking at the skin of his cuticles, you suddenly feel silly for coming.

Well, here goes nothing, you think.

“Sunwoo,” you call, making the boy snap his head towards you in surprise, big eyes meeting yours the moment he recognises your voice.

You don’t receive a verbal response for a while. The boy just stares at you, a bit hesitant and clueless. His face reminds you of a small puppy trying to take in the new situation in front of it. His lips are formed into a small pout, gears in his brain turning and trying to process the reality of having you standing there, face beaten from the cold.

Clearing your throat, you try to take charge of the situation. “It’s snowing outside,” you say, eyes peering out of the window, all thoughts suddenly escaping your brain, words blanking off your tongue, “and, well… you said you like the snow, so…”

The boy’s mouth hangs agape, a twinkle in his eyes slowly appearing once again when he stares at you, your nervousness doing wonders to your conversation skills. “I- I don’t even know what I wanted to say with that, it’s just- I don’t know… I saw it was snowing and I automatically came here, so-” you stutter, the sentence cutting off as Sunwoo jumps to his feet and grins, wordlessly taking your hand into his and dragging you outside.

The duffel bag falls off your shoulder somewhere in the middle of the hall, discarded to the floor, before Sunwoo sharply halts in his steps and runs back towards the ticket booth, still dragging you with him by the hand. The boy grabs something off the table, the item not visible in your rear point of view, and before you have a chance to register what’s happening, you’re outside of the building again, coldness instantly slapping you in the face.

It’s dark out, but the heaviness of the snow provides enough light in the silent evening for you to see where you’re going under the yellow lampposts on the street. Instantly noticing the lack of Sunwoo’s warm hand in yours when he suddenly lets go, you turn your head to look at the male.

Terror fills your veins when you notice him gathering snow from the ground and pressing it into a tight ball, a screech escaping your throat when you watch him swing it at you, a playful, boyish grin playing with his features. The male chases you around and most of the snowballs don't even hit your running figure (he does have an awful aim), but you still duck anyway and try your hardest to win your snowball fight.

Numb fingers creating snowballs and halting them at his tall frame, but missing most of the time due to his fast reflexes, you laugh and let go of all the worries and questions clouding your judgment. Sunwoo looks enthusiastic, so much more lively than when you found him in the ticket booth just a few minutes ago– but that’s still not enough for you to let him win.

Gathering the icy texture into your hands, you run towards him, taking advantage of his inattention as he’s bent over and taking more snow into his hold, and halt the whiteness into his face just as he straightens his back and wants to prepare for his attack.

More laughter bubbles out of your chest when you watch him drop his snowball to the ground, admitting defeat. The snow is all over his face– slowly running down his cheeks like teardrops, redness tinting his nose and the sides of his face. 

The male shudders from the cold, and you instantly start feeling bad. Only now you realize that he ran out without a coat, a gasp escaping your throat. “Oh god,” you mourn, hands flying towards his frozen face to wipe off the snow from his cheeks, fingers carefully tracing over his cold skin. His eyes open as he watches you, something in his gaze so tender you feel yourself melting even in the middle of the snowstorm.

The male shuffles his hands into the front pocket of his gray hoodie, taking out the item you now recognise to be the hat you accidentally forgot in the projecting room yesterday (and already mentally paid goodbye to), his frozen fingers tugging the fabric onto your head. 

“Why are you putting this on me? You’re the one that’s freezing over here!” you scold him, shaking your head at the male. 

He rewards you with an amused grin, watching your next moves. Acting on auto-pilot, not really putting much thought into your actions, you unzip your jacket and step impossibly near to the male. Holding the jacket open, you hug him around his middle, making sure you are sharing the warmth with him and keeping him as close as possible, shielding him from the cold with both the fabric of your puffer jacket and the heat radiating off your body.

Faces just inches away from each other, you peer at his face. He wears a warm expression, eyes peeking out from behind his dark bangs. Clouds of breath escape his mouth when he speaks, voice quiet, as if to not ruin the atmosphere. “I thought you would regret it,” he says, making you break out into a foolish smile.

“I thought so too,” you nod.

“And you don’t?”

Shrugging, you reply. “Not really.”

“Why?” he asks, suddenly doubtful. “You said you hated me. Which was odd to hear, honestly, since I did all this to get your attention anyway and I thought it was just how our dynamic works, but… I could see how it could be annoying to you…”

Chuckling, you roll your eyes at the sudden revelation. It’s sickeningly sweet how endearing he looks when he doubts himself, explaining himself to you in a nervous blabber. “I don’t hate you. At least not anymore.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” you shake your head, a tender gaze shared between the two of you, “I actually quite like you, I think…” you mumble, a little bashful to admit it out loud.

“You do?” he asks, the twinkle in his eye glimmering twice as much as ever before, tone of voice playful, yet laced with honest joy and surprise at your confession.

“I do,” you nod, voice barely louder than a whisper as you watch him lean closer towards your face, cold nose bumping into yours before he angles his head, breath mixing in with yours in the few seconds before he dares to kiss you again, capturing your lips with his.

The kiss is sweet. The kiss tastes of strawberry mints and the first snow, of unsaid confessions and longing looks sent your way every time you weren’t looking. The kiss makes your stomach fill with a thousand little butterflies, it melts away the ice around you, the two of you like a spark of a fire in the middle of a snowy land. 

His actions have your composure faltering, hands untangling from behind him and moving up to cradle his face. He melts under your touch, leaning into you as your fingers trail over his cheekbones. Holding on to him, thumbs padding his soft skin, you’re reminded of the cold only when he breaks off you and shudders again, teeth clattering from the freezing temperature.

“Let’s get you inside,” you say, planting a short peck to his lips, “before you turn into an icicle,” you giggle, watching as he scrunches up his face.

“I won’t,” he shakes his head, “love warms me up,” he grins, making you roll your eyes at his bold statement.

“You’re so cheesy.”

“But you quite like me anyways, no?”

Sighing, moving away from him and tugging him back inside the cinema, you shake your head at the boy. “I’ll think about it on my train home,” you bite back, opening the door to the theater and aiming towards the duffel bag you dropped on your way out.

Sunwoo watches you with a warm gaze, an adorable smile playing with his lips. His figure seems to be visibly taking in the heat again, his face adorning a flush, pink color. 

“So I take it as you’re not quitting anymore, then?” he teases as you walk back to the door, both of you ignoring the customers waiting for their tickets in the line in front of the forgotten booth.

“We’ll see,” you shrug.

“I’ll text you the schedule for January?”

“You better text me about something else too, Kim Sunwoo,” you bark back, opening the door towards the cold landscape, “or you’re gonna have a very uncomfortable return back to work in January!”

The boy laughs, the noise like a Christmas carol to your ears. “Noted.”

Slipping outside, you watch as he waves at you goodbye, your feet dragging through the snow towards the train station having more pep to their step now. You don’t even know if you can make it to the train on time, but you surprisingly have no regrets– you can always catch the next one, right?

Mentally wanting to slap yourself for the lovesick grin playing with your lips, you sigh. 

The male that once made your life a living hell is now the one you look forward to seeing the most once you come back after Christmas break. It’s kind of strange, really. 

One would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you better for the biggest plot twist of your life.

[itsbeeble]

NO BITCHES?

SUMMARY: When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

GENRE: smut, fluff, crack, mild angst

PAIRING: Eric Sohn x afab!reader (ft hak, sunwoo, sunwoo's gf, and sangyeon)

WC: 10.5k (there go my plans of proving Ally wrong)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: um... okay so virgin!eric, kinda dom!reader, eric's a fucking loser, reader kinda makes fun of him at first for being a virgin, reader kinda teaches eric about everything from kissing to uh...yeah, dry humping, kissing, making out, oral (m and f receiving), eric cums in his pants, eric plays fnaf, um...public making out? public fingering?, multiple orgasms, eric goes from little virgin boy to I TOLD YOU WE NEEDED MORE GLITTER real fast, sunwoo slander, sunwoo's annoying in this idk, eric's a dumb gamer boy who needs desperate help from the boy who concussed his gf (cough sunwoo), slight bit of miscommunication?, eric cries (ummmm dacryphilia?), reader also cries (again...dacryphilia?), edging el oh el, sunwoo and. reader know the importance of CONSENT, i think that's all the important stuff

A/N: I'm never gonna beat the allegations... ally will always think i bias eric. Anyway, happy birthday to my little munchkin princess eric sohn 🥰🥰

Eric was practically shaking as he approached you. Scratch that, he was definitely shaking but he could blame the ripples covering the drinks in his hand on the pumping base. It thrummed in his veins, or maybe that was his pulse steadily increasing when he locked eyes with you.

You. His gorgeous, intelligent, perfect…

Lab partner. You were his lab partner and at that very moment, nothing more. At least, not in your eyes. Eric, though? He was enamored by you. The way you laugh, the teasing grin when he does something wrong and you scold him, the way your body looks in that dress—

“Hi.” You look away from your friends and face him, a curious look on your face. He’s starting to feel warm. Was it warm in here? He thinks he’s starting to sweat, and can feel something drip down the back of his neck.

“Hi…?” Your hands are empty, and Eric forces himself not to jump up and down with glee that he doesn’t have to make the excuse of having two drinks for himself. 

“I’m— Do you—” He stutters, and heat begins to spread from his neck to his cheeks as your friends giggle. You just smile. A kind smile that has his body slowly relaxing the more he looks at your face. “Do you wanna drink— I mean— fuck, I meant do you want a drink. Not— not do you wanna drink— I mean that could—  that is also a question, but—”

More laughter from your friends and Eric suddenly thinks he’s gonna throw up all over you, your dress, and his nice white button-up shirt that he’d forced Sangyeon to iron for him. 

“Thank you, Eric.” You say, reaching for the cup in his left hand. Your fingers brush against his, and his knees begin to wobble visibly. Your smile disappears into a concerned frown, and suddenly Eric’s attention is on your lips. He isn’t paying attention to his surroundings anymore. Can’t find himself caring that your friends are still laughing at the scenario, nor that you shoo them away. 

“Eric?” Your hand waves in front of his face, effectively catching the boy’s attention. “Are you okay?”  

“Yeah!” Eric says it far too quickly, knowing immediately that you don’t believe him. Fortunately, one of his many charms is that he’s very good at lying to people. “I’m perfectly fine. Why do you ask?” 

You giggle, and it’s the sweetest sound that he’s ever heard.

“You just— you seem a little uncomfortable right now.” You lean close to him, scanning his face under the flashing lights. You can hardly make out his features under the colors. Blue, purple, red, white, green, yellow. All the colors under the rainbow covered his face and changed every few seconds. When they flashed white, you swear you can see a flush in his cheeks. 

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” He leans toward you with a sudden surge of confidence that has your heart pounded a bit. “Why would I ever be uncomfortable around the most beautiful girl in the building?”

And there it is, folks, you think. Your eye twitches, something so subtle that Eric fails to catch it. The irritation, the disappointment. 

“Ah, I see.” You grimace, and Eric begins to panic again. 

“What— did I upset you?” He asks, and you roll your eyes. 

“Eric, if you wanna get into my pants you’re gonna have to try better than that.” 

Eric’s heart drops to the floor, his face flushing even more as he begins to panic. He stutters, he tries to backtrack, he tries to explain himself. You, however, are hearing none of it. Not a single word that comes out of his mouth reaches your ears. 

“Stop, Eric.” You snap and his mouth snaps shut. “Just…Just stop.” 

You set the cup he’d given you down on the table, and he stares at it dumbly while you storm away to find your friends again. The amber liquid in the cup sloshes with the base echoing around it and the loud noise of partygoers around him. 

He watches it spill over the lip of the cup, and then sets his own cup down next to it, turning around to return to the party but the weight of crushing rejection sits uncomfortably on his chest. 

It’s two days later when you see Eric again. Monday morning, an 8AM Physics lecture that no one wants to be in. Two weeks into the semester, and almost twenty people had already dropped the class. He walks in with a black hat covering his head, and a white tee shirt covering his torso. It’s certainly not clothing suitable for the cold air of early February, but he’d been unable to do his laundry over the weekend due to the parties on Friday and Saturday and the neverending clean-up that occurred on Sunday. 

He spots you, tucked well into the second row, and his eyes light up. Yours, on the other hand, narrow. You keep your gaze on him while he makes his way up to you as quickly as possible, hoping to have a chance to talk to you before the lecture begins. 

“Hey,” he grins at you, gently setting his bag on the chair to his left and turning to face you. Your eyes are still narrowed with suspicion. “How was your weekend?” 

How was your weekend? It’s as if the both of you hated that question; one of you cringing with something close to disgust, the other with something like horror. Is he stupid?

“It was fine,” you tell him curtly. Eric frowns, leaning back in his chair when you turn your gaze to the front. 

“Did I do something wrong?” He blurts out, and your shoulders sag. Was that the wrong thing to ask? Did he do something wrong?

“Did you seriously just ask me that?” You hiss out, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. He opens his mouth to speak, but he has a hard time finding the words. What is he even supposed to say? What if you think he’s an asshole for not knowing what was wrong? What if you never smile at him again?

“I— honestly I really don’t know!” You scoff and Eric sits up, leaning forward on the table to get a better view of your face. You can see the pout, see the way his eyebrows knit together in what you can only assume is faux confusion. There’s no way he doesn’t know what he did.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” You look at him fully now and watch the way his body recoils from the words. Hurt, confusion. No anger. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Eric Sohn angry in the two years you’d shared classes with him. 

“What— what did I even do?” The professor walks in, and he hushes his voice. “I can’t fix things if I don’t know what I did wrong!”

“That’s your own damn fault then, isn’t it?” You click your pen, and Eric shuts up. You almost feel bad, carefully watching as he takes out his own notebook to begin taking notes. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the lecture, and you feel a pang of regret in your chest. Maybe he really doesn’t know what he did wrong, you think, nibbling on your lip in thought. No, there’s no way he doesn’t know. He’s the smartest guy in the room, no way does he not know what— 

You glance at Eric again, this time turning your head to fully look at him. His blond hair falls over his eyes, even with the hat covering his head. His shoulders are hunched, his hand moving so quickly over the lined paper so that he can at least try to keep up with your professor. For a moment, you think about Eric Sohn. About the frat boy who had been nothing but kind to you since the day you met. About the boy who once gave you notes far more detailed than you’d ever written during the week you were sick. About the boy who—

No, you shake your head and begin to write down more equations you know you’re going to have to ask Eric about later. He’s a frat boy. All he wants is a good fuck and then he’s gone. 

But why did he seem so hurt when you spoke to him so rudely? When you turned him away not once, but twice within the past three days. 

You liked him, you really did! He was kind, thoughtful, and he was always helping anyone he could. He never refused to help anyone, even if it was a subject that he didn’t know that well. Had you gotten it wrong? Was he just trying to talk to you and you had responded—

Your pen clicks again as you give up on the notes, and you lean back in your chair to squint at the whiteboard in front of you. 

Talking with Eric Sohn was inevitable, but it was only a matter of how long you could avoid the topic—

“I want all of you to pair up. These will be your partners for the midterm project.”

Eric’s gaze turns to you uneasily, tilting his head in question. You bite down hard on your tongue, fighting every urge inside of you to turn around and ask the girl behind you to be partners. 

Fuck, how could you say no to those eyes?

Your room is brighter than Eric thought it would be. When you originally invited him over to study that night, he had been terrified. Was your apartment going to be almost falling apart? What if it was really nice and he broke something? What if you killed him and stuffed him into a dumpster?

Fortunately, none of those things were necessarily true. Your building wasn’t falling apart, thankfully, although it was arguably nicer than any other off-campus apartments and you could still choose to kill him. 

It was nice, though. It was a two-bedroom apartment that you shared with your friend Eunseung, one full bathroom and another half-bathroom, a decent kitchen, and a nice-sized living space. According to what you told him in the last semester, the rent wasn’t too awful either. 

The walls of your bedroom were yellow, but not an ugly shade of yellow. It was pastel, not quite bright enough to be harsh on the eyes but not dark enough to make it hard to see. You’d lined bookshelves up to the wall, most filled with books but some with photos and plants and music albums. You had a small desk in the corner, and your bed was aligned with the center of the back wall, a light green comforter covering white sheets. 

“I’m surprised we’ve never studied here.” You hum, but your tone is distant. Eric laughs dryly and sets his bag down on the ground next to your bedframe. 

“You prefer the library,” he points out. “The lighting is easier for your eyes.” 

For a moment, you pause in your motions. How did he—

“How did you know that?” You ask, turning to face him. You can see the flush in your partner’s cheeks, and he ducks his head so that the baseball cap on his head covers his eyes. 

“I just— you would always squint when we studied at the library or— or at the TBZ house. I just…I figured that was the reason.” I pay attention. That’s what you knew he meant. 

Why does a boy who only wants to get into your pants care so much about you?

“Oh.” You dig your laptop out of your bag and take a seat on your bed, leaning against your pillows with your legs straight out in front of you. Eric joins you, sitting crosslegged at the other end of the bed. He’s careful not to get too close, shifting away from you when you adjust your position. Your skirt flares out to the side, ruffled by the blanket and exposing your thighs a bit more. Eric has to force his eyes to remain on his laptop. You notice, but there’s no anger with it. You choose to not even acknowledge it. 

“So what do we wanna do for our project?” His eyes flick over to you, and you shrug. 

“We could build something?” You suggest. “Maybe, like, a paper airplane launcher?” 

He hums, tilting his head back and wrinkling his nose in thought. 

“What about something with electromagnetism?” You nod slowly. 

“That could be good. We could keep with the idea of building something and make an electric motor with things people have lying around their houses?” 

Eric grins at you. “Now we’re thinking. We’ll have this done in no time at all.”

Eric was right. 

The brainstorming and research portion of the project had been completed within a few hours, and the two of you had cast your laptops to the side to search your apartment for things to use. Paper clips, some sort of copper wire (you had no idea why anyone would have a copper wire hanging around their house. Eric, however, said that there were several around the frat house), wood, some batteries. Anything that the two of you could use. The only thing neither of you had was a staple gun.

“It’s getting late,” Eric notes with a quick glance toward your living room window. You hum in response, lying back on your couch with your phone in your hand. “I should get going soon.”

Your eyes flick to him, but he isn’t looking at you. “Do you wanna stay the night?” 

Silence. A long moment of silence, and then Eric looks at you with a look nearing scandalized. 

“What?” You sit up, draping your arms over the back of your couch and getting a better look at him. 

“You heard me.” His face is bright red, similar to the night of the party. 

“Why would— why would I want— I mean th— thank you for the offer but— but I can’t stay the night. Why would— where would I even sleep? I don’t have clothes to sleep in!” He throws every excuse he could possibly think of at you, adding to your amusement. He had no clothes, where would he sleep, you had classes earlier in the morning than him, it would be weird if he stayed the night. It was cute. 

You’ll admit it, Eric was cute. The puppy-like look in his eyes, the pout on his lips. Everything about him was cute. It almost shocked you how fast you were able to get over the anger that he only wanted to sleep with you. In fact, you weren’t sure that’s what he even wanted from you. Only one way to find out, right?

“Eric,” you finally cut off his rambling and his voice stops, leaving your apartment oddly quiet. “Come here.” 

He listens, slowly slinking toward you. Eric is nervous, you can tell. Every step he takes, every twitch when you shift your body. It fills you with pride, or maybe some other emotion. 

Eric stops when he’s right in front of you, just a few steps from the back of the couch and both of you (really just him) are all too aware of how his crotch is level with your mouth. 

“I wanna tell you something,” you beckon him toward you with one finger and he slowly, albeit a bit awkwardly as well, bends down so that his face is just above yours. Heat radiates off his face, so hot that you may start sweating soon. “Do you wanna know a secret?”

His Adam’s apple bobs, his hands gripping the couch for dear life, short nails digging into the cheap fabric. 

“Sure.” Eric’s voice is hoarse, and it makes you smile. 

“I kinda like you, Eric.” 

Your lips press gently against his. Entirely experimental, just enough to see what he would do. His body seizes up, his breath hitching in his throat. He doesn’t move against you, doesn’t tilt his head or part his lips. He sits there like the lead in a lame drama where the main characters seem like they couldn’t be less into each other. You begin to pull away from him, fearing you’d made him a bit uncomfortable, but a whine is pulled from his throat when your lips part from his. 

You look at him, but he’s already looking at you with wide, bulging eyes. 

“Eric…” You have a sneaking suspicion that you know why he didn’t kiss you. “Have you…has no one ever kissed you before?”

“What?” The boy’s voice is shrill, and you know the answer. “Of— of course, I’ve been kissed? What kind of question is that?” 

Your lips quirk up. “Are you sure? It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you know.”

“What— why would I be embarrassed?” His frustration and denial are cute. Adorable, really. 

“Because you’re a sophomore in college and have been kissed once— by your physics partner, no less.” You smirk playfully and then gasp, pushing up and toward him suddenly. He reels back, nearly falling backward with the suddenness of the motion. “Eric Sohn! Are you a virgin?”

Eric looks like he’s about to cry from embarrassment, and he turns away from you completely. You grimace briefly and climb off the couch to come around and stand in front of him. He avoids your gaze by looking above you, around you, at the floor and the walls. 

“Eric,” your voice is gentle now. He doesn’t move, nor does he make any noise. He’s like a deer in headlights. “Eric, can you look at me.”

“No,” he denies, crossing his arms over his chest. You feel a bubble of amusement rising in your stomach. “You’re just gonna make fun of me.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” You promise, your hand grazing his forearm. Eric’s eyes lock with yours, and for once you choose to hold his gaze. “Now, can you tell me the truth so I can help you?” 

“Help me,” he echoes with an air of offense. “I don’t need help!”

“Eric, you’re a sophomore in college who’s in the most popular frat on the campus. Add onto that your personality and your good looks, you should be getting bitches left and right.” You say pointedly and the tips of his ears flush red. Or, rather, as red as they can when his whole face is burning up from your prior insinuations. 

“What if I’m just waiting for marriage?” He counters. “Or— or the right person?” Your lips draw into a thin line, knowing that statement was bullshit. 

“We both know you wouldn’t be hard as a rock right now if that was the case.”

Eric’s heart plummets to the ground, his eyes following it to check for himself. To his complete and utter dismay, you weren’t lying. Pressing against the front of his cargo pants was the solid outline of his member, straining against the seam and begging to be released. 

“I— I am so— so sorry,” he stammers, his hands yanking the edge of his sweatshirt down to cover himself, his hands remaining carefully placed over his crotch but he knows it’s too late. “I didn’t— I don’t— oh my god I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, holding tightly onto his sleeve so he can’t run for the door. “I knew you wanted to sleep with me, it was kind of obvious.”

“No I— I don’t want—” Eric frantically shakes his head. “I don’t— I can’t— I don’t wanna sleep with you— I mean I do, I really really do, but not— not like this—”

The hand on his sleeve comes up to grab his cheeks, squeezing them together until his lips are pushed out and he can’t speak anymore. 

“You can admit it, Eric.” You hum, and with your hand still on his face, you begin to walk him back and around to the side of the couch. He yelps when you push him back, letting go of his face and watching him fall over the arm and land with an oof on the cushions. “You can admit that you wanted to fuck me from the moment you saw me.”

“But I—” He choked on spit before he could finish talking, eyes widening into saucers when you climbed onto the couch, crawling up to sit on his lap. He’s sitting up straight now, but the risk of falling back again is high with nothing to support his spine. Your hands just rest on his shoulders, not digging in or moving to grasp anything else. They stay there, waiting for him to make the first move. 

“Tell me if you don’t want me to continue, Eric.” His hands are trembling, his pulse higher than it’s ever been. He slowly rotates his body, placing his feet firmly on the ground and resting his spine against the back of the couch so that he doesn’t hurt either of you. 

“I want—” his voice cracks. 

“What do you want?” Your lips are on his neck, featherlight kisses being left in your wake and knocking the breath out of him. He’d never felt like this, he’d never been touched like this save for his own hand in the darkness of his room with an animated video on loop on his laptop screen. At his lack of response, you pull your lips back from his neck. Eric lets out a loud whine at this, his left hand coming to the back of your head to lightly try and push you back into him. 

“Keep doing that,” he gasps out, and you smile. 

“Don’t you want me to kiss you?” You ask him, and another whine tumbles from his lips.

“I— fuck, I do— god, why are you doing this to me?”

“I just wanna know what you want, Eric,” you’re teasing him and you know it, but you’re pretty sure Eric might fall to pieces if you don’t give him something soon. “Can’t you tell me what you want?” 

“Just—” he leans his head back, and you watch the rapid bobbing of his throat as he tries to swallow and take in air and do anything to calm himself down. “Just do something.”

“What’s the magic word?” He raises his head, gasping when he finds your lips suddenly inches from his own. 

“Ple— please?” Your lips quirk up.

“Actually, it was—”

You don’t get the chance to tease him anymore. He crushes your lips together with so much force that it almost hurts. There’s nothing coherent about the way he kisses you, although you could hardly call it a kiss at all. It was more him putting his mouth against yours, tilting his head, and squeezing his eyes shut. It’s clear from the moment it started that he’s never been kissed before and that knowledge has you squirming in his lap. 

“Eric,” you’ve barely pulled back and he’s chasing your lips as if you’re a glass of his favorite wine. “Eric, hold on.”

“Why?” His eyes flutter open and you have to force yourself not to kiss him senseless, even if he has no idea what he’s doing.

“Just—” You inhale deeply and the scent of his cologne begins to overwhelm your senses, practically intoxicating you. “You’ve never kissed anyone before.” 

He nods, his previous embarrassment returning when you say that. “I mean…Yeah, I— I haven’t. But I—I’ve used WikiHow—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off and choose to ignore the comment about WikiHow, pressing a light kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Just follow my lead.” 

When he nods, you press your lips against his again. This time, it’s more fluid. It’s easier for you to kiss him when he’s copying your movements. It’s still awkward, your teeth smacking together painfully, but you can tell he’s getting used to the feeling. You’re able to part your lips against his, to open your mouth just enough for your tongue to slip out and brush against his lower lip. His whole body jolts, his hands digging into the fabric of your skirt hard enough that your skin would be bruised the next day. His hips roll up against yours, drawing a heady moan out of you. 

When Eric parts from you, his eyes are hazy. “Did— did you like when I did that?” 

“Yes,” you groan and begin to roll your hips down into his, watching the way his eyes roll into the back of his head and his back arches off the couch. 

“F-Fuck, okay,” He screws his eyes shut again, lips completely parted as the two of you begin to hump into each other like some damn animals. Your lips meld together again, and you let your tongue slither into his mouth. It’s obvious that Eric has no idea what to do with his tongue— pushing against yours aggressively, shoving it to the side, and trying to push his into your mouth— but as the minutes pass, he begins to understand what to do. He begins to understand what makes your body react positively and what has you unintentionally cringing away from him. 

Your lips part from his one more time but you hardly give him time to complain before you place a kiss on his cheek, then the corner of his jaw, and then right below his ear. He emits a nearly wild moan at this, his hips jerking up into yours in such a way that his bulge presses against your clit and punches a moan out of you. Being the quick learner that he is, Eric adjusts his position and rolls his hips up again and again and again, addicted to the way you sound and feel against him. 

“Eric,” you whine, parting from his neck. “Eric, oh my god.” 

He just huffs into your collarbone, licking and sucking and trying desperately to not cum too soon, but you just feel so good against him that he just can’t help it. 

His hips stutter against yours, and he moans so loud you fear that the neighbors hear it. You let him continue to grind into you, to work himself through his orgasm as your slips back and escapes you. It doesn’t matter, you’d get yourself when he leaves—

“You didn’t cum.” 

“What?” You blink dumbly at him, and Eric begins to pout. 

“You didn’t— you didn’t cum. You should’ve told me. I would’ve held off!” You knew that wasn’t true. He could barely hold himself together from a few kisses, what made him think he’d be able to hold himself off until you came? 

“It’s fine, Eric.” You reassure him, but he’s having none of it. You can’t stop him from lifting you off his hips and settling you against the couch cushions. Well…you probably could, but you wanted to see where this went. 

You watch as he unceremoniously yanks down your panties, not bothering with your skirt whether out of impatience or because he liked seeing you in it. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Eric peers up at you, a boyish smile on his face. 

“Can’t be that hard, right?” You laugh, choosing not to argue with him. You’d tell him, when it came time, where your clit is but for now? You’d let him work things out for himself. 

Your body shudders when Eric takes his first taste, licking from the bottom to the top of your pussy. You’re amazed that he didn’t accidentally go too far down like most (slightly more experienced) men have. It’s almost impressive how much attention he pays to your quivering body, and you flip your skirt up so you can see his face buried into you. Every lick draws out a moan from both of you, and you can see him starting to roll his hips down onto the couch. 

“Fuck,” his words are muffled by your cunt, and vile slurping noises accompany him. “Could get addicted to the taste of you.”

“Mm, feels good, Eric.” Your eyes flutter shut, one of your hands slipping down to tangle in his blonde strands of hair and tugging him up slightly. Your other hand taps at your clit lightly, making your body jolt a bit. “Here. This— fuck— feels good here.”

“That’s it?” He drops his head down again, swatting your hand out of the way to replace it with his own. His touch is much rougher than yours, his hands thick and calloused compared to your delicate ones. “Right here?” 

You whine for him, and he has to bite on his tongue to not cum again so fast. He’s quick to attach his mouth to your clit, sucking violently and swiping his tongue against it. If you weren’t impressed by him before, you most certainly were now. It hadn’t taken him long at all to figure out what felt good for you. Reading your mind and body was almost second nature to him, it seemed, and it became abundantly clear when your orgasm began to rise again.

“Close, Eric!” You gasped out, “I’m close!”

He groans against you, catching your hips in his hands when they begin to roll into his face. Eric wanted to drown in you. He wanted to feel you shake around him for the rest of his damn life. He wanted to hear you screaming his name until your throat was raw and your voice was gone. 

And the sight of you cumming on his face, your essence soaking his chin and dripping onto his sweatshirt? 

If he could stay glued to you for the rest of his life, he fucking would.

Becoming a habit came easy for you and Eric. You’re not dating, but you’re unsure of whether the puppy-like boy cares or not. You discovered very quickly that he would do anything for you, would learn anything for you. You’d successfully taught him how to kiss a girl without looking like a dumbass (i.e. the straight-face-to-sudden-kiss scenario you’d faced too many times to count), how to finger you and hit all the right spots, where not to put his mouth and fingers unless explicitly told otherwise. There was, of course, your next problem.

Eric refused to put his dick in you.

You knew he was clean, both of you had gotten tested when you originally began screwing around. You knew he liked you, that much was obvious. He looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, he told you how much he loved you every time you gave him head. He just…never went farther than that. Was he scared? Did he not want you as bad as you (very clearly) wanted him? It made you nauseous to think about, but it was getting frustrating how all you two did was make out, grind on each other like teenagers, and give each other head every time you saw each other. Shit— he was even fine with fingering you underneath the table in your lecture the other day! 

That’s why you developed a plan. Here you were, standing outside of the Tau Beta Zeta frat house under the guise of needing to work on your project (which wasn’t necessarily a lie) but really planning on getting him to finally fuck you. Yes, you were aware of the fact that he was a virgin but it was obvious from the start that he didn’t give a shit about that.

Unless he did. Your hand pauses just inches from the door, but you shake your head to clear the anxious thought and you knock on the door. 

One, two, three…one, two three…one—

On the third round of knocks, a boy swings the door open. His eyes are wide, his hair in disarray. 

“Hi.” You wave your hand with a smile, but the boy just stands there with a dumb look on his face. Were all the TBZ boys like this? 

“…Hi?” He says it in the form of a question, which draws a laugh out of you. 

“I’m Y/N.”

“…Sunwoo…” 

“Oh, the star soccer player, right?” He nods and you grin. “I saw your last game, the one where your girlfriend— I’m assuming girlfriend— knocked some sense into you. You really killed it out there!”

“Thank you…uh…can— can I help you?” You rock back and forth on your heels, biting at your lip in thought. The idea of wearing a skirt is choosing to bite you in the ass as a cold breeze picks up. 

“I’m here for Eric, actually. Um…Eric Sohn? I think he lives here, right?” Sunwoo’s jaw drops, his head dipping down as well and he steps to the side to let you in. You smile, using your feet to pull your shoes off as you step into the entryway. You see a pile of shoes to your left, the larger men’s pairs shoved into a large pile while some smaller women’s shoes sit neatly. You can’t help but wonder if it was the girlfriends that did this or if one of the frat members cares a bit more about them than the others. 

“He’s…he’s on the second floor, third door on the left…” You thank Sunwoo, ignoring how he follows you with obvious confusion and awe. Another boy passes by you, staring in confusion but ends up in the same state as the soccer player when he explains the situation. 

You knock before you enter Eric’s room, rocking on your heels again as you wait for some sort of response. You get none, and when you go to interrupt him, the second boy stops you. 

“Hi, um, I’m Haknyeon— you can call me Hak, though— Eric’s— he’s— he’s gaming. You can just go in because there’s no way you’re gonna get his attention by— by, um— yeah.” He stumbles over his words in an almost incomprehensible way, but you get the basic idea. 

“Thanks, Hak,” you dip your head and twist the doorknob. Sunwoo and Hak both watch you enter the room, only snapping out of their daze when you shut the door tightly behind you. 

“You…you saw that too, right?” Haknyeon grabs Sunwoo by the shoulder with a grin on his face.

“My best friend…” Sunwoo’s voice is quiet with confusion. “He’s…he’s getting bitches?”

“What did I say about saying that,” his girlfriend pops around the corner with a scowl on her face. Sunwoo’s face lights up, but it disappears at the scolding gaze she gives him.

“Sorry, baby,” he pouts and she rolls her eyes. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Give them some damn privacy,” she clicks her tongue, eyeing the door. “Lord knows they’re probably gonna need it.”

Eric is facing a large gaming setup when you enter the room. You can see the dark polo sweater which is partially unzipped to reveal some of his chest, the beige hat, and the khaki combo he had, unfortunately, chosen to wear today (you’re going to have to update his closet soon, whether you date him or not. You have to save the next girl he’s with). The lights, shockingly, are purple rather than the red you had expected. You can see expensive monitors and a keyboard, all of which are cleaner than any other gamer’s setup that you’d seen. In fact, his whole room is so much cleaner than you had ever given him credit for. You’d expected to see something absolutely filthy, but Eric never fails to shock you.

What doesn’t shock you, however?

Five Nights At Freddy’s playing on the screens.

You clear your throat, and he barely even spares a glance at you. You wonder if he even recognized that it was you—

“Yo, Y/N!” Oh god, this might not go as planned. “You’re early!” 

“Figured I’d come by to hang out before we got started on the paper.” You come up behind him, dropping your bag and jacket by the edge of the bed, revealing the black sheer top you’d chosen to go with your white skirt. You’d also chosen the perfume you know gets his attention the most, the one that always has him practically gluing his face to your neck. 

That doesn’t happen this time. He stays glued to his game, his legs spread wide open and tongue sticking out from the corner of his lips. 

“Feel— fuck!” His body jerks when an animatronic (Foxy, maybe?) comes out of a vent and gives him barely enough time to start protecting himself. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable, I might take a while.”

You hum, not moving from your spot. Your hands are on the back of his gaming chair, your eyes focused on the screen with fake intrigue. He doesn’t acknowledge you, so you let your hands begin to sink onto his shoulders. His chin tilts toward you a bit, but he corrects himself and goes back to ignoring you even when your nails graze the skin of his collarbone. 

“What are you doing?” Eric asks, but it’s more dismissive than anything. 

“Just watching you play,” you reply with a sly grin. Another jumpscare appears, and he grunts when you intentionally dig your nails into him (something you’ve learned he loves over the past two weeks). 

Part two of your scheme begins when you sink to your knees beside Eric and slip under his desk. This grabs his attention. Eric watches as you get comfortable, no longer paying attention to the screens in front of him when you run your hands up his thighs, grazing the button of his khaki pants. 

“Y/N, this—” his breath catches in his throat when you finally undo the button and pull the zipper down. You can see his member already hardening, twitching in his boxers. “You don’t have to— I don’t— why—”

“Jus’ play your game, baby.” You purr, your fingers hooking under the band of his boxers to tug them and his pants down at the same time. His jaw is hanging open, eyes wide with awe, but you stop your movements. “Play your game, Eric, or I’m leaving.”

His response is immediate, sliding his chair closer to you and lifting his hips to let you work. Your smirk is wide, and you yank his clothing down in one go, letting them rest around his ankles. Eric’s knee begins to bounce, and you rest your hand on top of it to steady him. His member, in just a few moments, has completely hardened. You can see the slick precum beginning to leak from his tip, and you lower your mouth to catch each drop on his tongue. 

The moan he emits is loud, and you pull your mouth back just an inch to dig your nails into his thigh.

“Stay quiet and don’t cum unless I say so.” He whimpers in response, and you bring your mouth back onto him. You begin by suckling at his tip, letting your tongue swirl around him like a lollypop, and listening to his barely restrained moans. You hear clicking and tapping on his keyboard, as well as random noises from the game

You take him a little deeper and his thighs tense, but he’s good at staying quiet. He’s good even when his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag around him. Even when you take him so deep that you’re choking on him and spit is dripping from your mouth and onto his skin. Even when you begin hollowing your mouth and bobbing your head, and swallowing around him a few times when you take him all the way down so your nose is against his pelvis. 

Another jumpscare and his hips jerk and force him farther down your throat. You moan around him, your eyes rolling back at the feeling, and that elicits a whine from him.

“Y/N,” he pleads. “I’ve been s-so good for yo—you right? Haven’t— Haven’t I been good? Ple—please let me cum. Jus’ wanna cum, please?” 

Eric sees you look up at him through your eyelashes, and just the sight of you slobbering all over him has his eyes rolling back in his head.

Then you pull off him completely, leaving his dick twitching and lonely against his stomach. 

“Why did— why did you pull off?” His eyes are dazed, and you flash a coy smile at him. 

“I told you to pay attention to the game, didn’t I?” 

“I— yeah, you did but— but I just— you—” Eric is tearing up as you begin to push your body out from under the desk to stand in front of him. 

“Poor baby,” you cup his cheek and your stomach churns when he leans into your palm with a sigh. “Should’ve just paid attention and beat the night, then, hm?” 

“Please,” he whines, leaving little kisses on your palm and working his way to your wrist, your forearm, your elbow, and then he’s pulling you onto his lap so you’re nearly sitting on his dick. You can feel it pulsing against your core, and you can’t help the tiny rolls of your hips to gain some sort of friction. “Please, just— I’ll…I’ll do anything you want. I’ll— I’ll eat you out, I’ll finger you, fuck, I’ll— I’ll let you sit on my face if that’s what you want.”

You hum, tapping your fingers against his chest in thought. “What if I want you to fuck me?” 

His body tenses and his cheeks begin to flush, his eyes refusing to meet yours. 

“Eric,” you say softly, moving your hand to his chin and forcing him to look at you. “Eric, talk to me.”

“I— I don’t—”

“I’m not gonna force you to do anything, Eric,” you reassure him, stopping the ministrations of your hips and bringing your free hand to the side of his neck. “I just want to know why. I want to understand. Do you— do you not want me? Do you wanna save yourself for another girl?” 

“No!” He snaps, his voice a bit harsher than he’d intended for it to come out but it has you flinching away from him. In a moment of panic, he brings his hands to your waist and tugs you closer to him. “I— sorry. It’s not— it’s not that at all.”

“Then why?” Your hands are playing with the ends of his blonde hair, and Eric swallows once. Twice. And then he tucks his head into your shoulder. 

“I…I don’t know.” 

You nod, disappointment filling you, but you don’t let it show. 

“Let’s work on the project.” You slide off his lap, ignoring the somewhat heartbroken gaze he shoots you. “The paper is due in a couple of days, so I grabbed a few sources and drafted an outline.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just tucks his member back into his pants and comes to join you on his bed. The air is tense and you know he wants to say something. You wait for him to say it. 

He doesn’t.

“Eric, you’re fucking stupid.” Sunwoo throws himself onto his best friend’s bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of Eric hitting his head on his desk.

“I know…”

“I mean, we already knew this from previous incidents. Ahem, giving my then-crush-now-girlfriend a concussion. But holy shit I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse than that.”

“I know!” Eric whines, sitting heavily on the gaming chair he’d gotten head on almost four hours ago, and could have gotten laid in had he not been a damn moron.

“I mean, you’ve been trying to get laid by this chick for how long? And you cockblocked yourself because…” Sunwoo trails off, his eyebrows knitting together as he sits up. “Wait, why did you cockblock yourself?”

“I don’t know, man!” Eric huffs and leans his head back. “Fuck, she was so nice about it too. Too nice. I know damn well she’s pissed at me but she’s too fucking nice to say anything.”

“Well yeah,” Sunwoo shrugs. “Sex 101— don’t force yourself onto anyone. Hello? Why would she do that to you?”

Eric crosses his arms over his chest, using his feet to spin his chair back and forth lightly. You had been really sweet about everything. You could’ve gotten mad at him, especially since this wasn’t the first time this had happened, but you didn’t. You wanted him to be ready. 

And he was. He was so ready! He just— he gets nervous around you! What if he’s a disappointment? What if he’s so bad that you have to fake an orgasm? What if he doesn’t fit? What if he hurts you?

“Eric,” Sunwoo claps his hands together to snap Eric out of his thoughts. “Stop getting distracted while I’m trying to help you in a way that won’t lead to injuries.” 

The poor, self-cockblocked boy lifts his head with a pout. 

“There’s a party this weekend, right?” 

“Yeah…” Eric tilts his head.

“Make sure she’s there. Use whatever excuse you need to, and make sure she shows up. Then, ask her to talk. Go somewhere private, talk to her, tell her you’re ready, and then fuck until the sun comes up.” Sunwoo claps again, throwing his out to the side in a cocky I just made the best plan ever manner. “First of all, gets you laid, second of all— free revenge on Sangyeon.”

Eric drums his fingers against his legs in thought. The plan was good, he’d admit that. Of course, not out loud. No, he would never let Sunwoo know that he was right about something.

“Fine,” Eric agrees. “But if shit goes south, it’s your fault.”

“Deal,” Sunwoo grins mischievously. “And if shit goes right, you owe me and my girlfriend dinner.”

“Deal.”

Eric doesn’t see you at all that week, something that has him nearly crying on the ground in Sangyeon’s bedroom. He’d texted you, asked if you were okay, sent you notes, told you about the party but didn’t outright invite you. Nothing. No sign of you in lectures, no texts from you aside from a confirmation that you’d submit your written portion of the midterm.

“Take a damn breath.” Sangyeon rolls his eyes and tugs a formfitting black mock-neck shirt over his head, sliding a silver chain around his neck afterward. “She’s probably busy.”

“But she never goes this long without texting me! Or being in a lecture!” The youngest member of the frat holds his head in his hands, staring down at the white buttondown shirt that hung somewhat loosely on his body. 

“Maybe she hates you, I don’t know!” Sangyeon exclaims. “Stop bothering me about it!” Eric pouts up at the TBZ president.

“But you know how to handle these things!”

“Not when you’re on my ass about it all day every day for a week straight.” Sangyeon’s lip curls and Eric huffs, laying back on the hardwood floor. “Dude, just be patient. Who knows, maybe she was sick? Maybe she’ll show up today and you’ll get laid. Just. Be. Patient.”

And patient he was. 

He lurked around the party, a drink in his hand and a ripped red baseball cap covering his head and shielding his red-rimmed eyes from the public. They didn’t need to know he’d cried over his two-year-long crush ghosting him. 

“Who pissed in your cheerios?” He turns his body slowly, ready to crack a corny joke, and walk away from whoever yelled in his ear, but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. You’re in another tiny little black skirt and a black bralette that was used as a poor excuse for a shirt with a leather jacket thrown over it. He nearly crumbles in front of you, ready to worship you and the ground you walk on, ready to take you in front of all these people so they know that he’s yours.

“Oh my god.” 

You laugh at the dumbstruck look in his eyes, at the way his eyes are stuck on your chest, and the way your bralette pushes your boobs up just enough to catch attention. 

“You okay, Eric?” Your hand is on his arm, and in an instant his cup is thrown to the side and his lips are on yours, his tongue shoved into your mouth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, and, really, the suddenness of it all, but you don’t complain. You love how frantic he is for you, love how he’s ready to risk it all after just a week of not seeing you. 

When he parts from you, there’s a string of spit connecting your lips that only breaks when you swipe your thumb across his lip. 

“How’s that for a hello?” You say just loud enough for him to hear it. 

“We need to talk.”

“We do.” You confirm, but his lips are on yours again, and you’re so glad that everyone is distracted by a game of beer pong on the other side of the room. You let your eyes flutter shut, moaning into his mouth when he pushes his tongue against yours. They dance together, swirling around each other but not fighting for dominance. No, this kiss isn’t about that. This is two people being addicted to the taste of each other, two people who could never get enough of what the other has to offer. 

You have to force yourself to part from him, turning away so you can find somewhere more private— preferably his bedroom. He doesn’t stray from you, gluing his lips to the side of your neck as you try to weave through the crowd. It’s not easy, especially with Eric on you and refusing to let go, but you don’t mind. 

Not when he shoves you against his dresser as soon as his bedroom door is shut and locked. 

The handles of the drawers dig against your spine, but you’re too distracted by Eric’s lips on your chest to care. His hat is missing, likely somewhere on the staircase. Your jacket has been thrown to the opposite side of the room, the straps of your bralette shoved down and both breasts freed from its confines so Eric can lick and suck and bite at the soft mounds. 

“Eric,” you moan out, arching your back into his hunched form. He groans against you, sucking hard at your nipple and eliciting a loud moan from you. “Eric, pick me up.” 

Without even pulling away, he does, plopping you unceremoniously onto his dresser and moving his lips to the other breast, replacing his mouth with his hand. Your hand comes to the back of his head, and you find yourself smiling at the desperation your lover shows. 

“Missed me that much, huh?” Your composure is crumbling, but you don’t care. “Might have to disappear more often.”

He rips away from your chest, eyes narrowed into a glare. “Don’t even joke about that. I thought you died.”

You kiss him again, both hands holding his face to yours, and your legs wrap around his waist. Eric’s hands find your thighs and he lifts you off the dresser. He sucks on your tongue, biting on your lip when you start to pull away and you whimper at the sting of pain. 

“Thought I died, hm?” You brush back the blonde strands of hair covering his sweaty forehead and smirk. “It’s a good thing I didn’t then, hm? What would you have done? Fucked your fist for the rest of your life?” 

A muscle in his jaw feathers and he throws you down on his bed. You yelp, eyes widening at the personality change. A week ago, he would’ve been begging you for any touch, would’ve been falling apart just for one look at your dripping pussy. But now?

Now he looks like a starved animal, and you’re the first helpless creature he’s seen in weeks. 

“Eric,” you warn, watching him unbutton his shirt. “Remember what I said.” 

He eyes you, smirking at the way your jaw drops when his shirt hits the floor. It’s odd, isn’t it? You’d probably been bare in front of him countless times but you’d hardly seen him with his pants down.

“Holy fuck.” You stare at his torso, at the chiseled abs and biceps, at the veins in his arms, at the trail of hair leading down to his dick. “You’re— you’re fucking shredded.”

“Shredded?” He quirks an eyebrow, undoing his belt and the button of his pants so he can push them down and kick them to the side. “That’s the first word you thought of?”

“Well—” you clear your throat and turn your gaze away from him. “I mean— you are.”

“Cute,” He coos and crawls over you, hooking his fingers into the hem of your skirt. “May I?”

“You may,” you look at him again, then down his body and swallow hard at the sight of him. You’ve seen him many times. You’ve held him in your hand, in your mouth. You know what to expect.

So why does it make you so nervous now?

“You’re getting distracted,” Eric kisses his teeth, lowering his face to yours but not kissing you. He traces his nose across your cheek, light kisses from his lips going with it. His nose nudges against your jaw, urging you to tilt your jaw up so he can kiss you there. You do, and his lips feel like fire against your skin. “I thought you liked it when people pay attention?”

“I— I do!” You gasp out, and Eric laughs against your skin. Where the fuck is all this confidence coming from? 

“Then why aren’t you paying attention to me?” His fingers press against your sopping-wet entrance and you lift your hips in a weak attempt to get them inside of you. 

“I am!” Tears are welling in your eyes. “I am paying attention to you, Eric, please!”

He juts out his lip in a mocking pout, using the hand that’s not against your heat to wipe the tears away. 

“Okay baby,” he says softly, sinking two thick, calloused fingers into you. “Don’t cry, not yet.” 

The intrusion has you crying out and Eric does his best to hush you, to soothe you, and then he’s thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace. Your fingers cling to his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense and shift with every movement of his arm. Eric grins when your eyes finally flutter shut, when you finally give in to him. He praises you when he slips a third finger into your core, and then a fourth. He praises you as he works you through the sting, curling his fingers gently to search for the spot he knows would have you falling to pieces under him. 

Eric finds it easily and is oh so pleased by your wail of his name. He grins almost maliciously, when you begin to shake, when your body begins to thrash, and your nails dig into his shoulders and drag down his back. 

“Always so easy for me,” he hums, staring in awe at the wrinkle between your eyebrows and how your tongue practically hangs out of your mouth. When he knows you’re about to cum, he crushes his lips against yours again and begins to move his hand faster. You’re sobbing into his mouth, unable to kiss him back between your cries and moans, but Eric doesn’t mind. 

He lets you grind against his hand until you’re not shaking anymore. Then, and only then, does he pull his fingers out of you, watching with curious satisfaction as your cum drips from his fingers and onto the blanket below you. 

“Don’t— don’t sit there staring at that shit.” you hiss, but Eric just smiles. 

“So you can speak coherently now?” 

“Shut up and fuck me already, or do you need me to teach you how to do that too?” 

Eric’s gaze hardens, his tongue pushing against his cheek. You push yourself to sit up, but Eric pushes you right back down and uses his hands to push your legs apart. 

“I don’t need you to teach me anything,” he grunts, lining his member up with your entrance. 

“Really? That’s not what it looked like three weeks ag—oh fuck!” Your back arches off the bed when he suddenly sinks into you. Four fingers seem to have been just barely enough, the sting fading just as fast as it came. Or maybe you just like the pain so much it turned into pleasure. Whatever the reason, you’re quick to tell Eric to pick up the pace. 

You’re both shocked and impressed by the movement of his hips. He alternates between smooth, sharp rolls and harsh, pointed thrusts that have your body forced up the bed and the headboard knocking against the wall.

“You think I need your help?” Eric growls, digging his hands into your thighs and spreading them farther apart, lifting the lower half of your body a bit to change the angle. This brings a new pleasure to both of you. Something that you’ve never felt before, and has your mind reeling. “I didn’t need you. I wanted you. I wanted every part of you. I craved you, craved your taste. It was pure fucking luck that you wanted me too.”

“Eric,” You gasp out, sinking your teeth into the side of his neck to leave another mark on his skin. “Eric, feels so good, god it feels so good please, please don’t stop. Don’t stop, oh my god!”

“Look at you,” he yanks your head out of his neck by your hair, staring down at your fucked out face as he continues to plow into you with no remorse. “All fucked out for me. I did this. Your little virgin boy. Isn’t it embarrassing?” 

You whine in response but apparently, that isn’t what he’s looking for because he slows down at your lack of response. 

“Answer me,” he hisses.

“I— I don’t— Eric I don’t—” You don’t even know what he’s trying to ask. You stopped listening as soon as he pulled your hair, the sting of it feeling too good. Eric laughs, picking up his pace again and dropping your head back down onto his pillows. 

“What? Too fucked out to answer me? Who would’ve thought that I was the virgin and not you? What would people think if they walked in here and saw me fucking you like this?” He doesn’t expect an answer this time, not that you’d be able to give him one anyway. 

Your legs draw tightly around his slim waist, holding him close as your orgasm approaches again, but Eric doesn’t seem to be even close to cumming. Even when your second orgasm washes over you, and then your third. He fucks you through each one, sweat dripping from his hair and down his torso until his body is sliding against yours. Your body feels numb, but at the same time, you can feel everything. Every drag of his length against your walls, every punch of his tip against your cervix. Your arms curl around his neck, but your grip is loose. 

When Eric’s hips finally begin to stutter, you’re about four orgasms in, the fifth about to wash over you. Your voice is hoarse, a puddle of drool on the pillow under your head. You can’t find it in you to make any more noise, just gasping breathes and quiet whines. You cum together, and the feeling of his cum filling you has your back arching again. This time, Eric catches you and holds your body against his. He kisses you gently, uncaring that you can barely breathe let alone kiss him. 

“That— that was a good talk,” he jokes, and you say nothing at first. “Um…are— are you okay?” 

“You just—” you clear your throat, but it does nothing. “You just fucked me within an inch of my life, as a completely inexperienced virgin, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” 

Eric frowns, settling down on top of you, but careful not to lay his full weight onto your obviously aching body. He can see the bruises he’d left all over you— on your chest, your neck, your hips. Anywhere his lips or hands touched, there was a bruise left in his wake. He imagines, however, that he looks no different. He can feel the scratches you left on his back, marring every inch of his skin and likely drawing a bit of blood, he can see a hickey on his arm that you left at some point and can imagine how the front of his body looks.

“So…so you’re not okay?” He tries and you huff, throwing an arm over your eyes. 

“Eric, I love you, but you’re such a dumbass.” You groan, shoving him off your body so you can breathe properly. “Go draw a bath. I’m gonna need one after that shit.”

“Before I do, can you answer one question?” You pry your eyes open to scowl at him and his damn puppy-like eyes. 

“What?” 

“Are we— are we dating now?” 

“We won’t be for long if you don’t get that fucking bath going.” 

“Aw, yeah!” Eric cheers, jumping off the bed and running to the bathroom to start the bath like you asked. “Guess who isn’t single anymore, Sunwoo!”

“What’s your problem?” Haknyeon peers at Sangyeon over the lip of his mug. The frat president is glaring at you and Eric with something murderous in his eyes, which seem to have dark bags under them.

“My bedroom is right next to Eric’s.” Haknyeon raises an eyebrow, and Sangyeon clears his throat. “My bedroom is next to Eric’s.”

“Okay…oh. OH. Oh, shit man, I’m sorry.” Haknyeon turns his gaze to the two of you, grimacing at the thought of how long Sangyeon could have been kept up, but smiling when he sees how the two of you are cuddled on the couch. The grimace returns when he sees the state of your necks, neither of you having bothered to hide what you did to each other. 

“I mean,” Sunwoo sits on the counter, a bowl of cereal in his hand. “You kinda deserved it after what you did to him.”

“What the fuck— what did I do to him?” Sangyeon exclaims, and Sunwoo quirks an eyebrow. 

“You fucked your girlfriend for, what, seven rounds straight? The poor man didn’t get any sleep that night. Be glad you were able to rest after that.”

Haknyeon raises his cup, and the three frat boys return to “subtly” watching the two of you.

“Do you at least know if he was good? You know, for a virgin.”

“Oh my fucking god, Sunwoo, shut up.”

“You shut up, Hak! It was just a question!”

“You two are fucking nasty,” Sangyeon’s lip curls into a sneer, trying to block out the memories of last night. “But I’m gonna need a shit ton of bleach if I wanna forget that bullshit.”

“Hot.”

“Sunwoo, shut UP!”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[ericscroptop]

Wet Dreams

✧ pairing: eric sohn x mid-size/chubby fem! reader

✦ genre: friends to lovers + smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) smut, kissing, cursing, slight angst, inexperienced reader, hand job, male receiving, lots of spit, fondling, praising/praise kink, pet names, talk of insecurities, body issues, internalized fat phobia, etc., pls be cautious because i know it can be a sensitive topic for some!

✦ word count: 9.3k words (LMAOOOO)

✧ synopsis: your friend eric invites you over to his house for a swim and it is then that you realize eric wants you in ways you would’ve never imagined for yourself.

✦ note: this fic is kinda self indulgent—written as someone who is mid-size/chubby and has insecurities. i just want people who have a chubbier/thicker/fat body to feel loved and be included explicitly in writings because we are all deserving of love and affection!

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You hated swimming.

Well— okay, so you didn’t actually hate swimming.

Your disinterest for the activity was not rooted in swimming itself, but for the fact that you’d have to wear some sort of bikini in order to swim.

Technically, there wasn’t a law that said you had to wear a bikini to the beach or the pool. There are plenty of people who happily choose to wear something like a t-shirt or cover-up that’s more generous while swimming for whatever reason.

There are also a plethora of bathing suits that exist, so there’s gotta be one that you feel comfortable in, right?

The thing is, you plainly felt insecure in showing skin. You were insecure of your arms that seemed to carry excess fat that was especially visible when you moved them. Your belly hung low and it honestly was more plump than your behind. You also had skin-colored stretch marks that decorated your lower back that never seemed to go away.

These were things about you that you constantly dwelled on no matter what. You couldn’t recall a day where the topic of your body didn’t flood your mind.

You had no problem in people showing skin at all. At the end of the day, the problem was simply your lack of confidence due to society’s beauty standards that have been shoved in your face, pressed into your mind, and flooded your ears for as long as you could remember.

Though today, you were attempting at conquering your insecurities and finally stepping out of your comfort zone.

It was scorching in L.A. today. It was too hot to go out but also too hot to just rot in your home all day. Even with air conditioning, you just felt nasty.

Your friend Eric invited you to come to his house for a nightly swim. A wave of anxiety hit you when you had read his text of the invitation. First of all, he was a guy— of which, you found insanely attractive.

He was a friend that you made in your Sociology course. You remembered how he randomly approached you one day to ask a question mid-semester about something that he could’ve easily found the answer to if he looked back at the syllabus.

Though, you were happy to help anyone who needed it and answered him nicely. Or maybe it was merely because he was probably the prettiest boy you had ever laid eyes on that actually approached you, so you didn’t think twice to reply to him—but you would never let anyone know that. He was appreciative, and since then, he decided to cling onto you since you showed him courtesy.

You honestly thought he would’ve forgotten about your presence or only come to you when he needed help, but he actually started sitting with you and even distracting you with mindless but entertaining conversations during lectures.

While you started looking forward to coming into class and now having someone to talk to, your only interest in the class became the charming guy who was energetic and always made you smile from ear to ear. You eventually told Eric that you needed to prioritize your lectures and cut back on the excessive side conversations during class. He decided to take that as an opportunity to ask for your number, so you guys could hangout outside the classroom.

You were shocked that he wanted to be your friend. You didn’t feel as charming or alluring as he was, but he still found interest in you. You guys started hanging out and doing things like studying (or trying to at least) and doing miscellaneous activities at least once a week.

He became your best friend all of a sudden. You were super grateful that he came into your life, but you still felt nervous around him. He was such a good guy. You didn’t want to take your friendship for granted.

Eric was also super outgoing and friendly, while you were more reserved and it was rare for you to make new friends and be spontaneous. Sometimes, you still wonder why he decided to become your friend.

Maybe you felt this way due to your insecurities, or maybe it was because you had this lingering feeling of butterflies in your stomach every time you guys were together. Maybe it was a mixture of both.

Anyways, for whatever the reason, you just tried to be a good friend to the guy. You didn’t want to fuck anything up and so you tried your best to please Eric and not be a burden in any way.

Now, you find yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror of Eric’s guest bathroom. You tug on your favorite oversized Spongebob shirt that you own, pulling it to where it ends just below your bottom. You were getting ready to finally swim, and Eric was already out by the pool waiting while you freshen up and change.

You sighed at your reflection with both of your hands placed against your hips, wondering why the fuck you’re feeling so uneasy.

You actually surprised yourself by deciding to wear a bikini for tonight. You purchased one awhile back just for the heck of it, even if you never mustered up the courage to wear it. The bikini was high-waisted and red with a twist front on the bottoms. The bikini top was also red and a wireless bra. It was actually super comfortable against your skin and red was a striking color, but all you saw in the mirror was your plump stomach screaming at you to be covered, and your cleavage just wasn’t elevated enough to your liking. Your arms were also bothering you, as you could only focus on the excess fat that was noticeable as you moved them. You probably were gonna look like a whale next to Eric and the thought made you uncomfortable mixed with embarrassed.

So that’s why you brought a t-shirt to swim in just incase you chickened out. There’s nothing wrong with having a shirt on in the pool. I mean, it’s normal! Though, you couldn’t help but feel ashamed that you felt like shielding yourself and not letting yourself wear that bikini freely. It was only going to be you two together, so why were you making it so complicated?

“Fucking hell.” you sharply inhaled and let out a heavy sigh. You stared deeply into the mirror one last time, picking at your skin as you had no makeup on. Another thing you felt insecure about. You always had makeup on around Eric, but this time you didn’t for obvious reasons. “Ugh, whatever.” you groaned out before finally leaving the bathroom, fed up with all this negativity you felt towards yourself.

I mean, why did you care so fucking much? You knew deep down that Eric would never judge you. Any normal person wouldn’t think so hard about going for a swim. This is a casual activity, why were you overthinking it?

You walked through Eric’s massive house towards his patio. You already knew the ropes around his house, since this wasn’t your first time here. Though, you had only been here for things like baking brownies on Friday nights and playing Super Mario Party on the Nintendo Switch, not for using the pool.

You reached the glass sliding door that opened the patio and led yourself outside. His patio lights were on, illuminating his backyard so that it wasn’t completely dark out. You spotted Eric sitting on one of the pool chairs, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram reels obnoxiously loud on his phone. He seemed to be passing time while waiting for you before he got into the pool.

“Hey, you.” you made your way over to where he was sitting with a smile on your face.

Eric perked up at the sound of your voice and abandoned his phone, twisting his body towards you. “Finally! I was seriously about to call you to ask what’s taking so long.” Eric mimicked your smile and adjusted his arms to where they were now leaning back behind him.

You felt a flush of heat wave over your body, not due to the humid summer night, but due to Eric’s appearance. His hair has been permed for a while now and you just can’t help but admire how good he looks in curly hair. His dark brown curls complemented his naturally tanned-skin so well. He’s also already shirtless, in nothing but a pair of blue swim shorts and a chain adorning his neck. He also had a cute bracelet around his wrist and small hoops that dangled from his ears as they always did. Every detail of him just looked so beautiful to you.

You mentally slap yourself for gawking at your best friend. You scoffed in response, “I don’t doubt that you would’ve.”

He chuckles as he rises from his chair, brows furrowing in confusion as his eyes run down the length of your body. “I thought you were changing into your bathing suit?” he asked curiously.

The tips of your ears go hot as he questions. You stare at him like a deer in headlights, fingers going down to fidget with the tips of your hair.

“Oh yeah, I just didn’t like how it looked at me.” you shyly admitted. You couldn’t lie to Eric over small matters. Even if you were embarrassed, you still felt complied to always be honest when he asks you something. Though, it was hard to have deep conversations with Eric because he was a guy— of which, you possibly have a small crush on. This was all new to you and you were still learning on how to navigate your friendship.

“Why?” he simply asked, staring at you, eyes full of concern. You bit your lip as he looked at you, your body starting to get a little tense.

“I dunno, I just am not used to wearing a swimsuit,” you shrugged. “I actually don’t go swimming often so I’m not used to wearing one. I typically would just wear a shirt like I am now.” You rubbed your left foot against your right ankle as you spoke, starting to feel awkward in having this conversation.

“Oh,” was all Eric said, starting to frown a bit but quickly shook his head and crossed his arms. “You know, I don’t care what you wear as long as it makes you comfortable, but right now, it’s just you and me here,” he subtly smiles. “We’re gonna be in the water having fun and cooling off. I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but you’re safe around me.” Eric reassures you and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

You half smile while looking down at your feet. “I know.” you simply agreed.

You suddenly look up at the feeling of his dominant hand now on your left shoulder, patting it reassuringly. “Y/n, you don’t have to be shy in front of me. We’re good friends, let’s be comfortable with each other, yeah?” His eyes were full of tenderness as you met his gaze. You pouted your lips playfully in attempt to not get sappy at his words.

He was right though. You just want to have fun and you’re letting your insecurities get the best of you. You know Eric isn’t an asshole. He never judges anyone’s appearance and you know he’s a sweetheart.

You nod your head as you take in his words. “Thanks Eric, really.” your face flushed as he shook his head.

“You don’t need to thank me. I know people wear shirts in the pool but when I picked you up earlier, you said you brought a swimsuit, so I figured you wanted to wear it. You don’t have to feel shy.”

He licks his lips and pauses for a moment before continuing, “You always look good.” Eric rubbed the back of his neck and shyly looked to the side as his voice faltered uttering that last part. Your lips parted slightly as you processed that compliment. The corner of your lips then curled upwards and you let out a soft chuckle.

“Okay, I guess you’ve convinced me. It’s just us, right?” you said rhetorically, sighing deeply. I mean, you were mainly going to be in the water anyways, so why trip over this?

Eric smiles seeing you finally deciding to remove your t-shirt, allowing your bikini to be worn properly. You toss the shirt onto the chair he was sitting at, and adjust your bathing suit top’s straps. He timidly looks away as you do, grabbing his phone to connect it to his speaker to play some music while you guys swim.

You start moving towards the pool, ready to finally do what you came here to do and allow yourself to enjoy this time. Eric looks back up at you dancing to the song he put on while making way into the pool, your locks of hair twirling around your back with each step. His gaze then ‘accidentally’ wanders down to your red bottoms, his cheeks flushing once realizing he’s checking you out.

Oh wow. he thinks to himself as he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment to tame his thoughts, rubbing his lips against each other. He then hears you call out to him that the water feels good and to come join him.

Eric puts his phone down and looks at you, your form hidden underneath water, splashing and gleaming as your body felt more relaxed now.

“I’m coming!” He shouts before he starts running towards your direction. You start grinning at his words because you have a dirty ass mind, but it immediately falters once you realize he’s gonna cannonball. Your brows knitted as he made way closer, both hands shielding your face and eyes closed once he plunges into the pool, creating splashes of waves in your direction.

“Eric!” you playfully scold him for of course having to jump into the pool like a maniac. You rub your face after the splashes drenched your face and hair, tucking your hair back behind your ears, sucking in a breath. Eric emerges from beneath the water breathing heavily, laughing as he sticks his tongue out, grazing it over the corner of his lip.

“You’re such a guy.” you scoff at him, rolling your eyes. Eric raises a brow and then begins to splash more water your way. “I’m only having fun!” Eric raises both hands from his sides, gesturing to the pool and cheekily smiling at you as he shakes his head gently.

———————————————————————————

You two swam for about an hour. You guys tossed a beach ball for awhile, chatted about old gossip you always brought up when together, and even played mermaids upon your request— to which created plenty of laughter on your part seeing Eric take his role very seriously for awhile.

He then pleaded for you guys to race— which you initially declined, having no interest. He pouted at your disinterest, but started racing anyways. Water splashed all over your face for the nth time as he swam to the opposite end of the pool, leaving you behind sulking and rolling your eyes.

“I’m getting out!” you yelled and lifted yourself out the pool. Eric continued racing himself as you walked away to grab some towels nearby for the both of you. Once he made it to the end, he let out a sigh at your lack of desire to race. He clearly wanted to spend more time together in the water, but you were all tired out.

He sees your figure loosely drying your hair, and makes his way out the pool towards you. You met his gaze and nodded your head towards a towel you laid out for him. He silently thanked you and began drying himself, then wrapping it around his waist.

You ditched the now-damp towel you used for your hair and wrapped a fresh one around your figure, almost like a blanket. You both sat down together on one of the long pool chairs, soaking in the night while letting the air dry you guys some more.

“Do you wanna order some food? I’m really hungry,” Eric turns to look at you, your eyes meeting his at the sound of his voice.

“Yeah, before my stomach starts growling.” you chuckle as Eric smiles.

“Does pizza sound good? The usual, right?” Eric asks even though he’s already looking through his contacts, searching for the number of a local pizza place that has become a regular for you guys.

“Yes, please.” You cuddle into your towel as Eric calls the number, the pizza place answering after two rings.

He began ordering you guy’s usual and you can’t help but stare at him while he talks on the phone. His curly hair is wettish from all the swimming, some of the curls falling past his forehead. Every so often he’d toss his head a little to shake the hanging curls away from his eyes.

You just couldn’t help but admire how fine your best friend was. It was a crime that he walked around looking like a god. The jawline he had could probably leave a cut on your skin if you brushed against it with how defined it was. His side profile was beyond alluring and would make you double take when passing a glance. His beautiful, bronzed skin made him look so godly.

And he even had such a nice body. Eric frequented the gym, and his abs and muscles were definitely proof of that. He was proud of his body, and did his best to keep his prominent muscles defined by working on himself consistently. He was dripping with good looks.

Eric ends the call eventually and you’re ripped away from your wandering thoughts, crushing hard over your best friend.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Eric speaks in a playful tone, meeting your gaze after putting his phone down.

You awkwardly begin to laugh. “Just about how hungry I am.” you obviously lie.

Eric cocks his head and shoots you a grin. “You were staring at me, though.”

Your teeth began to tug on your bottom lip, before letting out another nervous laugh as you looked to the side.

“Well… I guess I was just waiting for you to finish ordering.” you replied nonchalantly, making a weak attempt at putting on a poker face even though you’ve already failed.

“You love spending time with me, huh? Can’t get enough of me?” Eric playfully hits your arm with his elbow, causing an ‘ow’ to escape your lips even though it barely hurt.

“Why do you always have to be such a tease?” you wrinkled your nose in question.

“‘Cause I like you,” Eric casually admits like nothing, his eyes having been scanning over your face this whole time since having ended the call.

Your lips parted as you blinked harshly, eventually letting free a forced laugh and your face forms a lopsided grimace.

“Can you be serious right now?” you scratched your head as you looked at Eric.

“I am.” Eric spoke softly, losing the playful tone completely.

He felt like he was gonna explode at his random confession. What you thought was harmless teasing was him actually flirting and him having romantic interest in you. You guys started out as friends but as time went on, he fell for you. After all the conversations and hangouts, he got to know you better and even from the first day, he thought you were such a pretty girl.

Though, he didn’t know when the proper time to confess was or if he even wanted to. You guys have such a solid friendship, and it seemed like you were fine with your stance.

Then again, you were very timid, so you often held back any talk involving feelings— at least with him. You weren’t the type to open up first. He usually had to question you to get an answer out of you— as much as you were willing to say, anyways.

“Like… as friends, right?” Confusion flooded your face as you hadn’t a clue of where he was going with this.

“Yeah, but… what if I said I meant it as more than that?” Eric had this hope-filled look clouding his face. He looked at you anticipating that you felt the same. Even at his random confession, he hopes that you can see how serious he is. That he didn’t just fuck up your friendship by making things weird and that you get the hint that he wants to be more with you.

“Okay— this is not funny. Literally, what are you going on about?” you scoffed and shook your head. You honestly couldn’t believe what he was alluding to. It just can’t be. No way in hell is Eric Sohn admitting that he likes you in that way. No damn way.

“I would never in my life joke about something like this, Y/n. I know this is out of no where— hell, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to tell you because I already appreciate what I have with you.” Eric sucked in a breath before continuing. “But I selfishly want to be more. After all this time together, I just can’t help but wanna be able to hold you and call you my girlfriend every time I am around you.”

“I… I honestly think i’ve fallen in love with you.” Eric breathed out and swallowed hard as he looked at your now-incredulous expression, his own eyes widening as he realized what he just said. Your mouth’s open in shock as you blinked excessively, trying to blink away at your now-moist eyes.

“With me?” you laughed harshly at him and Eric’s lips turned down. “I think you’re mistaken.” your gaze shifted towards your feet as you continued. “You cannot love me in that way. I’m just… not perfect.” You’re in utter disbelief. You were way too insecure for your own good.

Of course you fucking loved him back. You tried to ignore it for so long, your stupid little crush on someone you accepted you couldn’t have because you felt that he was way out of your league and your status remained as just friends. He only saw you as a friend, you thought.

You were you and he was Eric fucking Sohn. He was on the baseball team, athletic, a gym rat, popular, out going, a sweetheart, and hot.

While you in comparison, stayed home most days you had zero obligations, barely had any hobbies, and had like 3 friends.

You felt unloveable because of how insecure you were. You didn’t think someone like you was capable of having romantic feelings reciprocated. You felt unworthy. Eric could easily bag an L.A. model if he wanted to. So why the fuck is he here saying he wants to be with you?

Eric blankly stares at you for a moment. His face has gone pale and he feels his throat getting tight. He’s trying to process what you have said. Where is all this coming from?

“You’re perfect to me.” Eric reaches out for your hand and you get goosebumps at the action. Your eyes shift to where your hand is now in his, his thumb stroking your skin gently.

“Eric…” you barely whisper before removing your hand from his hold, looking away and missing the sadness in his eyes at the loss of contact and rejection.

“You cannot be with someone like me… I mean, look at me and then look at you! You are fucking amazing, Eric!” you finally look at him to gesture your right hand at his figure. “You could have anyone in this world and you’re trying to tell me that you’re in love with me? Have you seen me?”

Tears well up in your eyes as you remove the towel you had draped around you from your body. Your fingers roam around your stomach and you harshly pull at your love handles. “This can’t be what you’re attracted to!” you swallow hard, feeling so vulnerable right now.

You felt ugly. Society has told you that you needed to lose weight to be loved. You needed to be slim or appear a certain way in order for everyone to be kind and pay any mind to you. Not many people bothered to get to know you. Even though Eric has been your friend for a while now, you still find it hard to believe someone as handsome as him wanted to be around someone like you.

No guy ever showed any desire in wanting to be with you romantically or physically, or even as a friend. All your friends with ease had people lining up to be with them and you felt so lonely. So unwanted.

Your whole existence, you’ve always felt unworthy and everyone’s last choice. You felt like something was wrong with you and you’ve sorted accepted it.

Eric sat in silence as he took in your words. He had no idea you felt this deeply about yourself, how you saw yourself in a negative light. He thinks back to when you came out in your shirt and said how you weren’t feeling yourself in your bikini which prompted you to come out covered. You were self conscious. He looked at you with distraught and teary eyes. He was heartbroken to hear you think so lowly of yourself when in his eyes, you were practically Aphrodite mixed with an angel.

“Y/n, I didn’t know you felt this way.” Eric’s eyes softened as you looked down to the concrete, feeling ashamed and embarrassed of yourself right now.

“I’m sorry if anyone has ever made you feel unworthy or uncomfortable to live as yourself. I’m sorry that you cannot see the beauty in yourself.” Eric choked out.

“But I promise you, that you are so beyond beautiful inside and out.” he licked his lips and shook his head. “You don’t understand how beautiful you are. How much I enjoy spending time with you. Why do you think I insist we hangout at least once a week?”

Eric lets out a chuckle which prompts you to look up at him. “After every hangout, or even after every class we had together, I was already longing for the next time we’d see each other. I’ve been desperate for you… you consume my thoughts, Y/n.”

Your face turns crimson as he says all this to you, processing his every word. It did begin to make sense. He’s the one who asked for your number first. He always invites you over to his home. He actually seems to care about you. You chew on your lip at the realization. You were so caught up in your own self consciousness.

You never have imagined that someone could love you in this way in reality.

Eric notices you begin to soften up a bit and his lips curl upwards. “I like that you can handle my silly antics and loudness, and always laugh instead of seriously being annoyed. I like that you have such a kind heart, and are always willing to make time for others— even if that means sacrificing your own obligations and time.” Eric looked at you in adoration, like a puppy in love. You have to admit, your heart swells at his words, and it brings a slight smile to your face.

“Oh come on, you’re so cheesy.” you playfully slap Eric’s hand as you sniffle.

He bites his lower lip and rubs his chin before continuing, “I also like when you have your hair up in a ponytail and leave two strands out on either side. I don’t see you with your hair up often, so I get excited when you do have it up.” You grab a piece of your hair and begin to play with it, face flushed as he keeps going.

“And,” he pauses for a brief moment, blushing as he whispers the next part. “I like it when I see you and I can tell you’re not wearing a bra.”

You drop the strand of hair and look at him with wide eyes, face full of sudden shock. Are you hearing correctly?

“Your nipples are always so hard, baby.” he chuckles as his gaze moves towards your chest.

“Even now, I can see them poking through,” he nods his head at your breasts. You look down and move your hands onto your chest, feeling your nipples through the top. You glance back up at Eric, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“Was that cheesy, too?” he questions, tilting his head to the side, shit eating grin smothering his face.

“Eric!” you scold the boy and mischievously hit his arm for suddenly admitting he stares at your breasts often. Though, your thighs instinctively press together at his lewd words, face still crimson.

Your best friend has admitted all these things to you. He sees you the way you see him, and it all feels like a hallucination. You usually feel so insecure, but he sees you like gold. You’re nothing but stunned right now.

Eric laughs as he wraps an arm around you, making you shiver at the sudden contact.

His hand reaches over your shoulder, accidentally brushing over close to your breast, resulting in you jolting at the sudden action as you felt sensitive to the touch.

Eric immediately removes his hand and leans back. “Shit, sorry!” he doesn’t hesitate to say. He’s embarrassed at his attempt in being smooth. He doesn’t want to scare you off.

“It’s fine.” you shyly speak. You have to admit, you were getting a bit turned on. After him showering you in compliments and confessions, you were now slowly accepting that he actually does want you in the same way you’ve fantasized over him.

Not only does he seem to like you for your personality, but also physically.

“No it’s not. I don’t know why I thought touching you like that without permission was okay. You’re still vulnerable.” Eric feels guilty and moves his eyes to look away from you in embarrassment. You haven’t even responded on whether or not you accept his feelings. I mean, you seem fine now.

Of course your insecurities won’t disappear overnight, but you looked more relaxed. He just hopes you don’t feel the need to shy away from him anymore.

“Eric…” you softly speak. He looks up at you curiously, humming as your eyes are already on him, looking at him softheartedly.

“I love you, too.” you murmur tenderly.

Eric’s heart suddenly starts beating fast. He adjusts his posture and a smile creeps up to his face as he registers your words for a moment.

“Are you serious?” he looks at you excitedly with flashing eyes.

“One thousand percent.” you gain the confidence to reach over to run your thumb along his cheek, taking your time to caress him. Eric feels the hair on his skin begin to stand up as you touch him intimately. His eyes shut as you take in his face, feeling it for the first time.

You smile at how cute he looks, softening under just the touch of your thumb.

“I’ll be yours if you’ll have me.” Eric states, his eyes opening to look at your own glistening ones. His face leans into your touch, feeling so good that you’re finally embracing him like this.

“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.” you look up at him lovingly.

His heart swells at this moment. The moment he’s been longing for, where he can finally call you his.

Eric is going to make sure you feel loved every second of the day from now on.

He removes your hand from his face and holds it gently within his own. With his other hand, it is now his turn to stroke your face with his warm palm. You swallow as you feel yourself melting like ice at his hot touch.

Eric is so close to you, yet so far. You have him now, so that means you can do all the things you’ve longed for with him.

“I want you to k— kiss me.” you suddenly blurt out, gaining trust to do so.

Eric pauses his delicate strokes against your cheek, and looks at you in surprise.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” you shyly admitted. You fluttered your eyelashes at him and stared at him pleadingly. “Please teach me, Eric.”

Eric swears he feels his dick twitch at your eagerness. With a simple sentence, his brain feels like it’s on fire. Oh how he’s longed to kiss your pink lips for what seems like forever.

Your innocence is cute, he thinks. How you’re willing to open up to him like this. How you are allowing yourself to let him love you in this way.

“You’re so precious.” Eric breathes out as he begins caressing your cheek again. You look at his eyes that carry a sense of longing as he scans your face, soaking up your features.

“We can take it slow.” Eric murmurs and you nod.

Eric’s thumb moves to your bottom lip, tracing the lines and feeling how plump it is. Your palms began to sweat in anticipation, and your heart rate increases at the build up.

Your eyes are open still, watching him curiously as he grazes his thumb over your lower lip gently, which makes his own heart flood in an ocean of warmth.

Eric’s thumb drops and his dominant hand moves to gently cup your jaw. His other hand pulls you closer against his chest, hand now resting on your side. You slightly shiver at his touch, fingers dancing over your love handles.

“You can touch me too, baby.” Eric nods at you, seeing you’re a bit tense and don’t really know what to do even though you so desperately want to feel his lips on yours already.

You hesitantly place your hand over his chest, rubbing the area carefully. Your fingers graze over his nipple and his eyes immediately shut at the feeling. He inhales sharply at your movements, and you can’t help but chuckle seeing him affected like this just by your touch.

Your other hand rests on the back of his neck along the nape, beginning to tangle your fingers in his curls and it feels like home for the both of you.

You don’t know what to do next, so you just continue combing through his hair. Though, you finally close your eyes, signaling to him that you’re ready for a kiss.

Eric’s lips curl upwards at how cute this is— you waiting for him to take the lead. He finds you very endearing like this.

He caresses your side as he slowly pulls your jaw close. Your lips separate faintly while he does so, awaiting for your lips to meet.

His eyes shut as he captures your bottom lip within his lips. He tilts your head ever so slightly so that you don’t bump noses, and your fingers messily fidget with the nape of his neck as he gently sucked your balmy lip.

Eric’s lips against yours feels electric. You allow him to guide you and you slowly get the hang of it, you soon after kissing him back. The kiss feels so magical. The feeling of his lips against yours sends sparks all throughout your body. You feel as with every movement his lips make against yours, you’re bound to explode like a firework at the passionate sensation.

You lose yourself in his lips, his hands soothing your body in the process, and nothing else matters except for Eric Sohn kissing you.

He pulls back for a moment, and you both stare at each other in awe at what you’ve shared. Eric suddenly lifts his rear off the chair for a bit, removing the towel he had wrapped around his waist and tosses it on the ground. He then decides to pull you over his lap, seating you on top of him with your legs wrapped around him. Your mouth opens agape at the action, your hands moving to his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Am I not too heavy for this?” you cringe, feeling like you can’t even be in this position for a second before it gets uncomfortable for Eric’s hold.

“Nonsense— you fit perfectly, baby.” Eric says. He spreads his legs a bit to make it more comfortable for you.

His hand rests on your back, fingers rubbing it soothly. His fingers trace the valleys of your stretch marks that decorate your lower back, and he smiles at the feeling of your skin.

“S’ gorgeous.” he murmurs, your cheeks heat up in response. Eric’s lips lean in to press against your pink cheeks, leaving tender, wet kisses all over your face. “You’re such a pretty girl.” he announces as you giggle at his affection towards you.

You crave for his lips on you again, so you take the risk of moving to glide your tongue over his bottom lip, begging to be invited in his mouth for seconds. A groan of satisfaction vibrates through Eric’s chest and he lets you in. Your tongues greet each other as your lips enveloped. A moan escapes your throat at feeling the wetness of his tongue against your own. You’ve suddenly lost your inhibitions after hearing all of Eric’s praises and tasting his pillowy lips. This kiss was sensual, becoming all hot and breathy in desire for one another.

Eric’s teeth gently graze over your bottom lip and you can’t help but move your body from the pleasure, resulting in you grinding down on Eric’s lap.

You pull back for a breath and your heart misses a beat as you feel something hard press against the fabric of your bottoms. You gasp at the foreign feeling.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Eric breathes out and goes to pet your hair. “We can stop if you want, just tell me.” Eric says, face turning red.

One of your hands moves to fiddle around his neck, admiring the chain that rested against his collarbones. You bat your eyelashes as you rub yourself against Eric’s crotch again, eliciting a deep groan out of him, his eyes drawn shut from your actions. You bite your lip at the stimulation it brought to your core. There’s a strange feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. This was all new to you, so it was very thrilling.

You lean over his neck and tenderly begin peppering kisses all over, his hips bucking up at the feeling of your mouth on his sweet spot.

“Mhm.” you whimper at the friction of his bulge against your core, which captivates Eric. The sound of your pretty moans and the way your body responds to him has blood rushing straight to his cock.

“What are you doing, princess?” Eric gently pulls you back from his neck, looking at your desperate eyes with his own, wetting his lips with his tongue.

You continue to rub your core against his crotch as he introduces that nickname. Your arms wrap around his neck and your fingers get lost in his curls once again.

“You like when I call you that, huh?” Eric nods his head at you, smirk prevalent on his face.

You whine at his teasing, hiding your face in his neck. “Eric…” you announce.

“Hm?” he hums, rubbing your back soothingly.

You pull back from his neck to look at him. He presses his lips together as you bashfully look at him. Your lips part in wanting to say something, but you hesitate in doing so, moving your gaze away from his own.

“What is it, baby?” Eric coos as he cups your jaw. “You can tell me.” he encourages you since you’ve suddenly gone shy.

“I— I want to taste you, Eric.” you practically whisper to him.

He chuckles, “You want more kisses?”

He sees you cutely furrow your brows with lips slightly pouted, gently shaking your head. “I don’t mean like that. I mean like… let me help you out.” with heavy lidded eyes, you gesture towards his manhood.

Eric’s lips gape slightly as it registers what you’re saying. He cannot believe what he’s hearing. You have no experience and yet you’re beyond eager. You’re so needy for him and it is fucking turning him on. He could probably cum right now in his swim shorts just from the kissing and grinding.

But, he doesn’t want you to rush into things so suddenly in the heat of the moment. He wants your firsts to be perfect. Even if you guys knew inside that you trust one another, he still wants to be sure.

“Y/n, let me take you on a date first at least, hm?” Eric rubs your thigh gingerly. “I don’t want you to do anything just because i’m hard right now. We can wait until you’re ready.” Eric softly smiles.

You’re still pouting, and let out a huff of frustration at his words. “I just want to taste it.” you whine out while your hips rut down into his, which draws a moan out of Eric, his fingers pressing deeply into your thigh in response. You sigh at the feeling.

“I’ve dreamed about giving you head since I met you.” you confess as you continue, drunk off the feeling of his cock through the thin pieces of fabric. “I promise I want to, Eric. It’s all I want to do tonight. We don’t have to go further than that— it’s what i’m comfortable with for now. We can save all the other stuff for another time. But right now, I just wanna please you if you’ll let me.” you babble, giving him pleading eyes and he see’s how bad you want it.

He wonders what happened to you being coy not that long ago— not that he’s complaining or anything, but you’re now feening over him. This feels like a dream. You wanted to please him so bad and he just could never say no to you, not in a million years.

He would be a fool to turn you down.

He lets out a deep sigh and tsks, his hands snaking around to grip your hips to keep you steady. “Okay, princess. I’d hate to ever say no to you.” Eric goes to chase your lips, sealing the deal. The kiss has you mewling into his mouth and he gulps hard at your noise.

You pull back from his lips and go to leave a tender kiss on the corner before he helps you get off his lap. You stand up as he stays seated, curiously watching your movements. You crouch down and your hands are on the towel Eric tossed earlier, starting to spread it neatly on the ground so your knees can rest over it.

“Here?” Eric questions as you get on your knees and your eyes lock. He bites back a groan as he has to now look down to meet your eyes, seeing you on the ground all submissive on your knees with your cleavage perfectly on display. It has him screaming internally.

“Yeah.” you say as you begin to stroke Eric’s knee. “I’m too impatient to go inside.”

Eric laughs and bends forward to press a kiss on your forehead, your nose scrunching cutely as his lips make contact against your skin. His hands then goes to cup your cheeks. “I’ll be as gentle as possible and guide you if you need it. Just tap my thighs or tell me if you want to stop. Okay, baby?”

“Okay.” you say and nod your head. Eric’s lips give you one last kiss on the corner of your mouth, and he lets you go.

You swallow hard, mentally questioning yourself on how you want to go about this. Eric watches you, smirking as he can practically see the wheels turn on your head. He’ll guide you, but only if he sees you struggling or if you ask for it. He wants to see what you can do, since you seem to be so eager for his cock.

You begin by inching a bit closer to his crotch, just between his knees. Your hands move to touch his abdomen, running your fingers along the defined lines of his abs. Your lips pucker up as you press hot kisses along his stomach, appreciating how beautiful Eric’s build was. Eric’s dominant hand goes to rest in your locks, massaging your scalp as you kiss his tummy.

“You like my body, baby?” a smug look is present on Eric’s face as he says so.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe out shamelessly, pausing when you’ve gotten closer to the skin just below his belly button.

You soon remove yourself and he lets his hand fall while your hands move to the waistband of his swim shorts. You play with the fabric a bit in nervousness, still figuring out how you’re going to approach this sensual act and wondering if Eric will be satisfied with your performance.

You finally tug his shorts down and fully off. His cock then immediately flops up against his abdomen, slapping the skin.

You gasp at first sight of his cock. It’s pretty lengthy and fat, erect with precum residing on his tip. You gulped as Eric’s right hand moves over to his shaft, beginning to stroke himself as he nibbles on his bottom lip. With pursed lips you look at him, feeling tingly and flushed all over as he makes eye contact with you while he touches himself.

“You wanna touch it?” Eric raises a brow as he slicks his cock in his wetness. You’re salivating at the sight of his naked form playing with himself. He looks so pretty on display like this for you.

He lets go of himself and you finally start to test the waters, hesitantly grabbing the base of his cock and stroking the skin. Eric hisses once he feels your small hand over his base. “Fuck, baby.”

You bite back a smile at his reaction and you start to give the tip kitten licks while rubbing the underside of his cock with your thumb. The taste of his precum lands on your tongue, causing Eric to purr in pleasure.

“Starting off as such a tease.” he mumbles while his legs instinctively spread to give you more room and his left arm goes behind the back of his neck and head, giving you a perfect view of the little sailboat and paw print tattoos that decorate his bicep. So fucking hot, you think to yourself.

You experimentally press your tongue along the underside of his cock, gliding it over a vein all the way up towards his tip, then deciding to take the head of it in your mouth.

A hearty groan rips from Eric’s throat as he feels all these sensations, and you begin to bob your head over a bit of his length, your hand jerking off the rest of his shaft.

“Breathe through your nose, baby, and hollow your cheeks.” he advises you between breathy moans.

You slowly challenge yourself to go deeper, coating his cock with your saliva. Eric is entranced by the slurping sounds that start to escape your lips and becomes drunk off the feeling of your warm mouth encompassing his cock.

His eyes shut while his hips can’t help but buck into your mouth at the feeling. You choke at the sudden movement, removing your mouth and gasping for air, sobbing out a moan as his length pops out your mouth.

“Fuck, princess. Mhm— sorry, can’t help myself.” Eric chuckles, licking his lips as his hand falls into your hair, caressing it gently and keeps it from falling around your face.

Your eyes meet and you hold contact, both of your eyes each going dark with lust while you take him in your mouth again, your left hand running up and down on what you can’t fit while your right decides to rest on his balls, beginning to massage and fondle them.

“That’s it, baby! What a good girl, playing with my balls without being asked. Hmm— you’re an angel.”

Eric praises you and your moans vibrate around his length in response. Your sucking starts to become more enthusiastic at his praises. You remember to curl your lips over your top teeth so they don’t touch him when you start to feel confident to take him deeper.

Eric’s gaze is fixated down on you as you bob your head, being such a brave girl and taking as much of him as you can. Your head rotates from side to side while sucking him, and your right hand is still rubbing circles along his balls, groping them and loving how heavy they feel in your hold.

Eric can’t help but grip your hair a bit tight as your mouth is driving his body insane. You gag around him as you take a bit more than you’re able and he carefully pulls you off. You cry out as you breathe in the fresh air, a string of saliva still connecting your lips with his cock. Eric growls seeing his cock coated in your saliva and his precum, and then moves his vision towards your mouth, your own spit now raining down your chin.

You inhale sharply as you give your mouth a short break and your right hand starts to jerk him off, feeling the wetness of his shaft glaze your hand.

“You’re s’ so big, Eric.” you whine and your lips stay parted, running your tongue along the inside of your mouth. “Jaw is starting to hurt.” you whimper as you look up and flutter your lashes at him, throwing your head back, thighs squeezed together as you tighten your hold around his cock.

“Just a little longer, baby. Getting close.” Eric coos and guides your lips back to his cock again. You run his tip all over your lips like a lipstick, humming in satisfaction at the wetness. You want nothing more than to drown in his essence.

Although your jaw is growing tired, you’re desperate to make him cum. You force your mouth to open wider and bob up and down as far as you can, sucking more of him as much as your mouth can handle.

The suction and slurping noises start to become more frequent from you as you pick up the pace. Eric’s breathing becomes more ragged at your rhythms and pretty sounds.

“Mhm, fuck! Getting close princess— where do you want my cum?” his brows furrow as he peers down at you, tears beginning to form in your eyes when you bring his head far back enough to trigger your gag reflex.

You start to get sloppy with your movements and meet his gaze with your own pleading eyes as he attempts to pull you back by your hair, though, your left hand finds purchase on his base and your right hand’s fingers dig deep onto the skin of his leg.

He laughs in seeing you not having any desire to come off him, “So this is what you meant when you said you were hungry earlier, hm? Can’t believe my pretty, perfect girl wants me to cum in her mouth for her first time. So fucking hot.” Eric’s cock twitches and balls tighten up once he’s approaching his release, brows knitting together and mouth agape, beginning to whimper in overstimulation.

“Mhm— Eric!” you muffle around his cock while your pussy throbs from listening to his pretty sounds leaving his lips as a result of you and from his fat length twitching in your mouth.

You continue to suck and jack off sloppily what you can’t fit, and before you know it, his hot, creamy load coats your tongue and paints your mouth white.

Eric’s head is thrown back, abs and jaw clenching as his release creates spasms throughout his entire body, sighing your name over and over weakly like a mantra.

His cum feels hot, thick, and sticky in your mouth. His release tastes slightly sweet, and you swirl and swish it around your mouth before swallowing as much as you can.

Your eyes are heavy lidded as you gently suck the head of his cock like a lollipop in attempt to drink up every last drop of his cum. You bring your lips to the tip and kiss it a few times, rubbing his balls tenderly to soothe him.

“Atta’ girl. Good fucking girl.” Eric praises you, groaning with a raspy voice.

You huff out a breath as you remove yourself entirely from his length. Wetness from tears decorates your eyelashes and stains your cheeks, vision somewhat blurred from all the work you put on his cock. Drool mixed with Eric’s cum is dripping down your lips and chin, and you continue to let spit fall, your mouth open with eyes closed as you try to calm yourself.

Looking at you, Eric feels numb in the head seeing you all fucked in the face from his cock. What a gorgeous sight.

After a few seconds, you both slowly start to calm down your uneven breathing. Your hand goes to wipe off whatever is left on your face, but not before Eric tuts at you and carefully hoists you up against him, his lips attaching against your own in a beat of his heart. Both of your lips move hungrily in sync and you moan into the kiss.

“You did so well, princess. You were such a good girl for me. The most perfect girl, and all mine.” he growls in between kisses as he tastes your saliva mixed with his own cum, and places you on his lap. Your hands go to wrap around his neck and one of his hands smooths over the fat of your middle, massaging it lovingly while his other hand rests on your neck. You shift a bit as he does so, gasping once you become aware of how damp and creamy your bottoms are. Eric seems to feel your wetness over his dick, grinning as the tip of your ears turn red and your cheeks flush pink in embarrassment.

“Aw, my pretty girl is all soaked ‘cause of me?” his hand goes to play with the flesh of your ass and you whine at his words. He kisses your cheeks sweetly and nuzzles his nose against your own. His heart feels so full to be so close to you like this. To have you in his arms and sharing intimate moments is a dream come true. You feel the same as he embraces you and is so gentle to you, feeling so loved by your best friend turned boyfriend.

“Can’t wait to take you on a date and treat you like the princess you are.” he whispers. “Then, when you’re ready, i’ll be sure to make you cum as hard as you made me. Sound’s good, baby?” Eric murmurs and you grab a hold of his chin, ready to plant another kiss on his lips before the sound of a ring causes you both to jolt up.

Eric groans, eyes rolling back in annoyance as he twists his head to see that it’s his phone ringing. You press a quick kiss to his jawline as he answers it, massaging his scalp while he talks on the phone.

“Hello… Oh, you’re here?— I’ll be right out!… Sorry to keep you waiting… Okay thanks, bye!”

“Shit, the pizza’s here.” Your eyes go wide as you register the call and his words and you quickly get off Eric. He rushes to put on his swim shorts and immediately bolts inside to get the food at the front door, leaving you outside by yourself.

You laugh at how fast he scurries off and then you sigh at the feeling of your bottoms sticking to your core within all the wetness. “I hope he lets me borrow a pair of boxers or something.” you say out loud to yourself as you make your way inside, ready to dig into some real food.

As much as Eric’s meat filled your mouth up nicely, you could use a couple slices of pizza to now fill up your empty stomach.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

[from-m-izzy]

diving in | tbz eric sohn

“you said you wanted to surf with me. Let me show you something while I’m at it.”

pairing » the boyz eric sohn x fem!reader

trope/au » established relationship, non-idol au!

genre »​ smut 18+ (PLEASE MDNI!!) 🔞 (kinda) surfer eric, some fluff

word count; estimated reading time » 1970; ~8 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » dom!eric, sub!reader, public sex (on a surfboard in the ocean, quite far away from the rest of the crowd), praising (reader receiving), dirty talk (not explicit), begging (reader to eric), pet name (baby girl, pretty girl), nickname (buff puppy; reader to eric), fingering (reader receiving), marking and kisses on skin (reader receiving), reader has medium-long hair, reader wears a bikini, eric is shirtless, eric and reader are the same height, eric implied to have a bigger build, orgasm denial (once), cum tasting (eric to reader)

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

happy birthday bubba @mosviqu 🥰 just a little something for you 🫂 thank you for proofreading and helping with warnings last minute @sanaxo-o 🥰

In between your chaotic university schedule and unhelpful teammates in your group work, came Eric's idea to take a day at the beach. You're more than enlightened at the idea, already sorting the day's wardrobe in your head.

Now, the toasted sand tickles between the crevices and around your bare feet, but you don't flinch, feeling your muscles relax instead. Your exposed stomach and back bask in the sun, delightful at the kiss from the sun. Eric walks beside you, his right hand protectively landing on your waist, pulling you closer to him; reminding the others around you to stop looking at your lower cheeks and upper chest which makes him scowl.

"You're looking hot but I hate how others can see you like this." Tucking his hand on the aide waistband on your bottoms and letting the material slap your skin.

You raise an eyebrow at him, your head dipping and rising at his exposed chest, "Speak for yourself, you buff puppy."

There and then comes Eric's light and golden smile that had you since day one, that only seemed all the more attractive with the limited skin contact that you share due to your light blue bikini and his pink swimmers. For Eric, it's the fact that the sight of you like this makes him want to take you right then and there, but he needed to stay civil in the public place.

You made your temporary post in the crowded space, spreading your beach towel and your belongings under the beach umbrella that you recently bought. Eric sticks his surfboard onto the sand next to where you would be sitting, creating more walls from the setting yet still scorching sun. You both settle in, popping off the cap of your sunscreen.

"Need help?" Knowing well enough that you will accept it.

A generous amount is applied to his palm and Eric guides you to sit between his spread legs as he begins applying the lotion starting from your shoulders and along your spine. You should've known that he was plotting something for even though you couldn't see the spreading grin on his face, his hands did all the talking. From the curve of your shoulder, coming to curve to your chest.

Slightly turning your head around, you shoot him a raised eyebrow but he feigns a straight face. His fingers go beneath the shoulder strap, following the line to your breasts. At least, you thought he would be groping you over the clothing but were proved wrong when your hardened buds were between his fingers that swiped and tugged making your back straighten.

"E-Eric---" Looking around at the oblivious children and parents. You couldn't help but squirm into him, the tip of his finger now circling your sensitive buds.

A hand flies to cover your mouth and Eric only shoots you a smile at the way your lips tremble in pleasure. "Good girl." Oh, he's crazy to call you that in public. "Looking all pretty for me."

"Oh..." His fingers tap teasingly towards your clothed mound, making your legs close instinctively. Eric clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth in disapproval, to which you shakily open your shaking legs once more to him. You know where this is going and you should probably keep some public dignity but how could you when the length of his fingers covers your slit, brushing you in an upwards motion, proud of the dampening fabric that he's created?

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, gasping for the air above. The whimpers that you let out are now clearer and closer to your boyfriend’s ears and once again, it takes Eric everything to not turn you around, tug both your underwear down and guide your surely pooling arousal around his hardening part.

But he’s got better ideas than what you both usually do behind closed doors. The fact that you’re gripping onto his forearm, gasping for air and his touch despite only having a minimal amount of coverage to the world around you makes the idea in his head all the more interesting to try. Without another word, Eric retracts his arm, scooting backwards before standing up.

Your furrowed eyebrows contrasted with the cute jut of your lower lip as your head turned, eyes following to see him retrieve his surfboard from the sand, tucking it below his arm. Eric winks at you and before you can protest your disappointment about the building orgasm, he crouches eye level with you, stealing a peck from your lips. 

“Come on,” he tilts his head towards the body of water, “you said you wanted to surf with me. Let me show you something while I’m at it.”

You couldn't see through that mischievous smirk and that annoyingly charming wink sent once again. Even though you rolled your eyes and heaved a heavy sigh, he knew that you would accept the hand that he has put out for you. Just like before, his fingers curve around the side of your waist, the surfboard from before under his arm as you both make your way to the crowded ocean.

At first, everything is civil. You both cupped your hands together to splash the salty liquid on each other’s faces, innocent and beaming in the summer. Eric would use the board as a barrier from your attacks and in turn, you would shout at how unfair he was being in the fight. The cooling water around you and the way the sand below you would most probably get between your feet when you walk back. The particles of sand would also be around your body, stuck between the gap between your bikini and your skin. But it’s fun and spending this time to just forget about your priorities is great, especially when you can do it with the love of your life. 

It’s true when people say time passes by fast when you have fun for with each passing splash to each other’s faces, the sun sets and the temperature drops even more, and Eric’s love and warmth for you becomes all the more evident. As you have fun together, you’ve reached a part of the area where it’s more secluded. The laughter of the families, squealing children and somewhat worried parents were quite a distance---it’s enough for you both to be moderately loud together; whatever those noises may be from. Eric pulls his body onto the floating board, legs straddling on each side, eyes forward towards the horizon and sunset. You gazed up at him with adoration, resting your arm onto the unoccupied part of the board as you gaze at the scene too. 

He admires the scenery in front of him, alternating between that and you next to him still in the water. You're left still in the water until he acknowledges you once more with a kiss, slotting his lips between yours. His thumb and index trap your chin, controlling the flow of the kiss. Eric smiles at the swipes of his tongue that would make your eyes slightly roll back. Your hands grip his thigh, slightly pushing him down in an attempt to dive into the kiss further. To the shaky movement, Eric tightens his hold on your chin, separating your wet lips with an innocent shake of his head.

“Don’t make me fall, baby girl,” He warns you softly. “Come here.” He pats on the board in front of him, instructing you to get on the board with minimal movement. 

Because of your lack of experience with the surfboard and everything about surfing, it was a little bit of a struggle to get on the rocky surface. The natural waves didn’t help you either. But Eric’s skilful balancing skills, tilting his upper body to the opposite side of the board of where you are to maintain his drying hair eventually made you both succeed in sitting together to watch the sunset in his arms. With his hands on your waist, he pulls you and himself closer, loving the feeling of your exposed back on his defined chest.

You exhale at the feeling, leaning and putting your weight onto him. To be honest, you could fall asleep to the sound of the waves, Eric’s humming and the way his thumb caress your skin. But Eric did not want you to fall asleep---he wanted the opposite of your snores and relaxed brain. His hands start to trail down, following the downward curve of your thigh, again towards your core that you couldn’t tell if it was your arousal or the sea. You gasp at how he didn’t bother to tease you from above your underwear, tugging cloth to one side, inserting one finger straight into your pooling hole.

“You can be louder,” he encourages the whiny moans that you started to voice, “They’re all away from us.” Referring to earlier when you were in a ‘more’ crowded place. 

Eric made use of his mouth, opened lips landing on the area between your neck and your shoulder. He makes his mark along the slide, sucking open-mouthed kisses while his fingers start to increase the pace, driving you to your wave. Your thighs start shaking, just like your ragged breaths and the slight thrashing of your head resting laid on his shoulder. Just like he wants, your voice becomes louder, not only because you’re right next to him but because you’re starting to not care about the setting you’re in.

“Keep still,” he reminds you of the uneven surface, “if you keep moving so harshly, you won’t be able to cum.” With this, his hand that has tugged your underwear away lets go and the elastic slaps to his retracting hand increase its pace and stretch your hole as he inserts another finger.

Your hands grip his wrists, hazy eyes gazing down to see the trembling of your thighs that have started to grip the blue board as you feel the increase of your release building up. Eric syncs your moans to the plunging of his fingers inside you. The tip of his fingers reaches your sweet spot, hitting that spot each time to leave you all the more breathless. Another finger is inserted and you can’t help but lean almost all your weight onto Eric now, losing your mind at how Eric constantly hits the spot that he knows all too well.

“Faster,” you beg to compensate for the orgasm he took away from you earlier. “Please don’t stop.” 

Eric complied with your request, turning his head towards the crook of your neck and littering soft small kisses to the back of your ear. Each time he pulls away from another peck comes another encouraging praise from all the “You’re taking me so well” to the “My pretty girl” to the dirtier words that encourage to finally coat his fingers with a layer of you. He didn’t stop at your orgasm, letting the surge of relief travel all over your body, only beginning to slow down when your breathing normalises. 

Eric’s gaze on your side profile is adoring, his hand coming back to cover your spent core. His face comes up to nudge and trace along your jawline and he lets out a soft chuckle. “You alright?”

You chuckle back, turning your head to nudge your nose against his, “Yeah. You?” He nods and kisses you still with a wide smile. “Amazing balance you have here, Mr Sohn.”

“I know,” he wiggles his eyebrows playfully, “I am amazing.”

You couldn’t argue with that statement. Eric Sohn is the love of your life after all.

“You know what else is amazing?” You raise an eyebrow at the question. Eric gives that mischievous smirk again, lifting the three fingers that made you gasp for air a few minutes ago, “Open up.” 

Diving in once more.

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