#the music of this has always been in my head
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Goodbye Summer | l.anton (18+)
Crazy what two years can do to a person. What do you mean the cutie pie, adorable ball of sunshine Chanyoung Lee, has turned into this tall, grumpy, and unfairly hot specimen who calls himself Anton?
Genre: childhood friends to lovers Pairing: Lee Chanyoung|Anton x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+) Notes: 19k words. Listening to Goodbye Summer by F(X) ft. D.O. Posted a little late because I got carried away, lol. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally, nor do I claim they would ever behave in real life like they were portrayed in this story. ALSO, if you see a similar story from a different blog for a different idol, that is me. xoxo, cal.
You rolled the car windows down, letting the salty air fill the car as you hummed along to the music playing through the speakers. It had been two years since you last made this drive, but every curve of the road was ingrained in your memory. You remembered how you used to count the palm trees as a kid, making up silly games to pass the time while your mom laughed at your endless energy. Back then, the beach house felt like the one constant in your summers, a place where time moved slower and the world outside didn’t matter.
Two years away felt like an eternity, but now, as the Lee family’s beach house came into view, it was like no time had passed at all.
Your mom stirred in the passenger seat, stretching as the car slowed down. “Did you sleep well?” you asked.
“I would’ve, if you hadn’t been singing off-key the entire time,” she replied, rolling her eyes playfully.
You gasped in mock offense. “Off-key? Excuse me, but that was a performance, mom. You’re just not cultured enough to appreciate my artistry.”
“Artistry, huh?” She laughed, shaking her head. “Is that what we're calling it now?”
You parked the car in front of the house, taking a moment to soak it in. The Lee family’s beach house looked exactly as it always had—whitewashed walls with a wide porch and tall windows that reflected the warm glow of the setting sun. For a second, it felt like you were stepping back in time, like the past two years hadn’t happened at all.
Aunt Hyejin was the first to greet you at the door, her arms wrapping tightly around you as she exclaimed, “Look at you! You’ve grown so much! You’ve gotten prettier too.”
You laughed, leaning into her embrace. “I could say the same about you, Auntie. You are glowing! What’s your secret?”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she teased, brushing your hair back to study your face. She squeezed your cheeks lightly before kissing your forehead. “Come in, come in! Junyoung is dying to show off how tall he’s gotten.”
Junyoung was quick to make good on his mom’s words, bounding down the stairs with a grin. He too greeted you with a hug, crouching down to your smaller frame.
“Told you I’d be taller than you one day!” he declared, puffing out his chest.
“And I told you I’d deny it when it happened,” you shot back, ruffling his hair and gasping because you had to tiptoe to reach the top of his head. “Wow. You really did grow up.”
The house itself was almost exactly as you remembered it. The same yellow curtains fluttered in the breeze, and the faint smell of ocean air and Aunt Hyejin’s cooking permeated the halls. It was comforting, familiar.
But there was one thing—or rather, one person—who didn’t match your memories.
He was sitting on the sofa when you walked into the living room, one leg crossed over the other, a phone in hand, and not the slightest hint of acknowledgement on his face. His hair was darker, longer, falling into his eyes in a way that seemed deliberate. His clothes—a loose linen shirt and tailored shorts—looked like they belonged to someone who spent their summers at yacht clubs, not building sandcastles on the beach.
“Chanyoung, greet them properly!” Aunt Hyejin chided with both affection and exasperation in her tone.
The man on the sofa finally looked up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, you froze, searching for something familiar in the sharp line of his jaw and the effortless confidence in his posture.
“Welcome back,” he said, his voice lower than you remembered, more measured.
You blinked, trying to reconcile the image in front of you with the boy you used to know. Before you could say anything, your mom appeared beside you, greeting Chanyoung with a hug. He rose to his feet, smiling genuinely as he let your mom embrace him.
“You’ve grown so much!”
While they were catching up, Junyoung approached you quietly, whispering in your ear. “I know what you’re thinking.”
You glanced sideways at him. “I’m sure you do,” you scoffed. “When did this happen?”
Junyoung shrugged. “Dunno. He went to college and came back like this. He’s called Anton now by the way.”
“Anton? He hates that name.”
“Right?” he agreed, chuckling. “Dude gained some muscles and turned into this emo cool kid.”
The rest of the day passed without a single meaningful interaction with Anton. Not for lack of trying on your part—you simply didn’t get the chance.
It was subtle, his avoidance. The kind of thing no one else would pick up on. Your mom, Aunt Hyejin, and Junyoung didn’t seem to notice anything, too caught up in catching up. But you? You noticed. Every time you entered a room, Anton was suddenly walking out. If you so much as glanced his way, he was already looking elsewhere, pretending to be engrossed in his phone or staring at some invisible point in the distance.
And then at lunch, he didn’t even sit down to eat with everyone. “I’m going out. Back before dinner.” he said nonchalantly, already halfway out the door.
“Probably off to the clubhouse to meet his friends,” Aunt Hyejin explained with a shrug, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
You nodded along politely, but inside, you were itching with curiosity. What friends? Since when did Chanyoung—no, Anton—have a social life so demanding that he couldn’t sit down for a meal?
Eventually, the guessing—and the long drive—caught up with you. You slumped into your room, the familiar comfort of the bed almost tricking you into thinking nothing had changed in this place. But the moment your head hit the pillow, your eyes grew heavy, and the next thing you knew was waking up to the faint glow of moonlight and a dim bedroom.
You groaned, blinking at your phone. Dinnertime.
Throwing on a sweatshirt, you stepped into the hallway, still half-asleep and thinking only of food. You turned the corner—and walked straight into a wall.
Or, well, what felt like a wall.
“Ow,” you muttered, stumbling back and clutching your nose. You looked up to find Anton standing there, looking as unfazed as he had been since you got here.
“Oh, it’s you,” you said before you could stop yourself.
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t say a word. Without thinking, you blurted, “What did you do to your hair?”
Anton didn’t respond right away. Instead, he tilted his head, like he was deciding whether to entertain your question. Then, he reached out and rested his hand on top of your head.
“What are you—”
Before you could finish, he brought his hand down to his chest, his eyes flicking between the two points as if measuring your height.
You scowled. “Hah! Wow. I see you got a few inches taller. Congratulations,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
Anton’s lips twitched, just barely, but he didn’t say anything.
“Ugh, whatever,” you huffed, spinning on your heel and stomping down the hallway toward the dining room.
Behind you, you didn’t see the way his lips curved into a small, teasing smile.
By the time you reached the dining room, the table was already set, laden with dishes that made your stomach growl on the spot.
The dining table was a sight to behold, as always. Aunt Hyejin had gone all out—steamed crab, grilled shrimp, roasted vegetables, and enough side dishes to feed a small army. The familiar spread made you smile; some things never changed.
The family had already gathered when you arrived, and everyone greeted you with warm smiles. “Sweetie, can you go get Anton?” Aunt Hyejin asked, beaming at you as she placed bowls of rice on the table.
You turned your head just in time to see him walk in, his hair still damp from what must’ve been a shower. He wore a plain white t-shirt, its loose fit and sleeves doing nothing to hide his defined shoulders. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’d walked out of a magazine ad.
Anton glanced around the table before taking the empty seat next to his mom. “Where’s Dad?” he asked simply, reaching for the pitcher of water.
“His trip is getting extended for a few more days,” Aunt Hyejin explained, placing a rice bowl in front of Anton. “He’ll be back next Saturday.”
You made a point of sitting as far from Anton as possible. Not that you were being petty or anything. Okay, maybe you were a little petty.
“Dig in, everyone!” Aunt Hyejin said cheerfully as she sat down.
You didn’t need to be told twice. The meal was as delicious as you remembered, and for a while, the conversation was light—updates on Junyoung’s basketball team, your mom recounting a funny story from work, Aunt Hyejin asking about your classes.
Then, inevitably, the focus shifted to Anton.
“So, Anton,” your mom began, her tone warm and curious. “What have you been up to lately? Your mom tells me you’ve been very busy.”
Anton looked up from his plate, his expression polite but detached. “Just the usual,” he said. “School, work, hanging out with friends.”
“Oh, right! You’re working at that startup now, aren’t you?” Aunt Hyejin chimed in proudly. “He’s been so dedicated, working part-time while keeping his grades up.”
You tried to hide your surprise. The Chanyoung you remembered hated being busy. He used to complain about school work piling up, always looking for an excuse to go to the beach instead.
“Wow,” you said, before you could stop yourself. “Who knew Chanyoung Lee would turn into such a responsible adult?”
Anton’s eyes flicked to you, and for a moment, you thought he might actually smile. Instead, he just shrugged. “People change.”
The casual way he said it annoyed you more than it should have. “Clearly,” you muttered, stabbing a piece of shrimp with your fork.
If anyone noticed the tension, they didn’t comment on it. The conversation moved on, but you couldn’t help sneaking glances at Anton throughout the meal. He barely spoke, answering questions with short, polite responses and deflecting anything too personal. It was so unlike the boy who used to dominate every dinner table conversation with ridiculous stories and bad jokes.
At one point, Junyoung leaned over to whisper, “You’re staring.”
“I am not,” you whispered back, cheeks heating.
“You are,” he insisted with a grin. “What’s your deal?”
You glared at him. “What’s his deal? He’s acting so weird.”
“If you ask me, I think you’re the one acting weird,” he whispered back.
You were about to retort when Aunt Hyejin’s voice prompted the attention of the table. “So, Anton, are you spending time at the clubhouse tomorrow too?” she asked.
“Yeah. A few friends are back in town, so I’ll be there a lot,” he replied, his tone casual.
“Oh, the clubhouse,” you deadpanned, unable to resist. “Sounds very exclusive.”
Anton’s eyes flicked to yours, something unreadable passing through his gaze. “It’s just a place to hang out,” he said evenly.
“Hm. Fancy.” You stabbed at your food with a bit more force than necessary.
Junyoung snickered beside you, “She’s jealous.”
You elbowed him hard, making him yelp. Across the table, Anton’s lips twitched, but he didn’t say anything.
When dinner was over and the plates were being cleared, Anton finally turned to you, his tone deceptively casual. “You’ve got some rice on your face.”
“What?” You froze, quickly swiping at your cheek.
“No, other side.”
You wiped again, glaring at him when his expression didn’t change. “Is it gone?”
He shrugged, standing up and grabbing his plate. “Sure,” he said, walking off, and you could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle under his breath.
Beside you, Junyoung was laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.
The morning light filtered through the open window, and the cool breeze made the thin curtains sway gently. You stretched lazily, the familiar sound of waves crashing against the shore reminding you that you were in the Lee family’s beach house, finally back after two years.
You got up and brushed your teeth, observing your face in the mirror for any changes. As you stepped out of your room, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and waffles made your tummy growl. You could hear your mom and Aunt Hyejin talking.
By the time you made it to the kitchen, they were already preparing to leave. Your mom turned to you with a smile. “We’ll be downtown all day to see the market and buy some things for the house. What are your plans for today, sweetie?”
“I think I’ll go for a swim,” you replied, grabbing a mug from the cupboard.
“That’s nice,” Aunt Hyejin chimed in, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “I was thinking of asking Anton to show you around or take you to the clubhouse, but he went out for a jog early this morning.”
“Thanks, Auntie, but it’s okay,” you replied quickly, almost too quickly. “I don’t really care to see the clubhouse anyway.”
Your mom raised an eyebrow at your tone, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she kissed your forehead before grabbing her purse. “Alright, enjoy yourself. Don’t forget sunscreen!”
“Also, sweetheart,” Aunt Hyejin prompted, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Could you tell Anton when he gets back that I left a note for him? It’s on the fridge and tell him he needs to do it as soon as he’s back from his run.”
“Of course, Auntie. I’ll let him know.”
You walked them to the door, waving them off as they left, then headed upstairs to change. A swim sounded like the perfect way to spend your first real morning back—just you, the ocean, and some much-needed time to clear your head. Usually, Anton would wake you up early on your first day back and drag you to the beach for a swim, but you weren’t counting on it today.
When you made your way down to the beach, you weren’t expecting to find Junyoung and his friends there.
“Oh, it’s the old lady!” Junyoung called out to you as soon as he saw you, a cheeky grin plastered across his face.
“I’m not old, you brat,” you shot back, squinting at him. He’d gathered quite the group, and a few familiar faces smiled at you from where they sat on beach towels.
“Wow, you’re really here,” one of the girls, Hana, said with a laugh as she stood up to hug you. “It’s been ages!”
“It’s only been two years,” you chuckled, hugging her back. “But I can see that you’ve all grown up so much,” you added, marveling at how much they’d changed in two years. The boys were taller, the girls more polished, and there was an air of confidence about them that made you miss being a teenager a little.
“You sound like my grandma,” Hana teased, shaking her head.
“Don’t encourage her,” Junyoung interjected, smirking. “She’s ancient.”
You rolled your eyes, flicking sand at him playfully. “Whatever, I’m going for a swim. Enjoy roasting me while I’m gone.”
Junyoung laughed, holding up a hand as if in surrender. “Don’t drown, grandma!”
You flipped him off as you walked toward the water, grinning.
The water was cool and refreshing, lapping against your skin as you waded in deeper. From the corner of your eye, you noticed the beach slowly coming to life. Families were setting up umbrellas, kids were building sandcastles, and a couple was walking hand in hand along the shore. It was a scene you’d witnessed countless times over the years, but it never failed to make you smile.
Your thoughts drifted to the summers you’d spent here as a kid. Each year brought new faces—tourists you’d befriended for a few fleeting weeks, locals who became your seasonal playmates. You’d always been quick to mke friends and form bonds, though many of them faded as quickly as they’d formed.
And, of course, there were the crushes. The endless parade of cute boys who caught your eye. Some of them, you tried to shoot your shot. Most of them, you’d never had the courage to talk to. As usual, those feeling faded when the summer was over.
Well, except for one. Sungchan.
He’d been your longest-running crush, a boy from the neighborhood who was a few years older. Every summer, you’d spot him on the beach or at the local shops, always surrounded by friends, always smiling. You never got beyond the occasional shy wave or stolen glance, but that didn’t stop you from swooning over him every chance you got.
You smiled to yourself, wondering what he was up to these days. Was he still living here? Still as effortlessly cool as you remembered?
Your gaze drifted toward the lifeguard tower, the only unfamiliar fixture along the beachline. It wasn’t there last time you were here, but that wasn’t the reason you couldn’t keep your gaze away. Sitting there, casually surveying the beach, was none other than Sungchan. And he looked even better than you remembered.
His features had sharpened with age, his shoulders broader, his smile just as dazzling. He wore a red lifeguard tank top and sunglasses, looking relaxed and confident as he chatted with another lifeguard.
“Of course,” you muttered under your breath, treading water as you stared. “He’s still ridiculously handsome. Great.”
You shook your head, forcing yourself to look away. You weren’t that starstruck kid anymore, and you weren’t about to start crushing on him all over again.
Soon, the water started to lose its allure when the morning sun climbed higher and the heat started to prick your shoulder. With a content sigh, you decided to head back toward the shore. You ran your fingers through your wet hair, mentally noting how good the ocean always felt no matter how many summers you spent here.
But just as your feet hit the shallows, a sudden shout caught your attention.
“HEADS UP!”
Before you could react, something smacked into your forehead with a dull thunk. The world turned slightly as you stumbled backward, landing awkwardly in the sand.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” A boy hurried over, looking horrified as he grabbed the Frisbee floating on the water.
“It’s alright,” you muttered, waving him off as you pushed yourself up.
“Hey, are you okay?” another voice called out—calm, authoritative. You turned your head, and there he was, Sungchan, jogging toward you.
The boy with the Frisbee immediately began apologizing again, but Sungchan dismissed him with a quick, “It’s alright, just be more careful next time.” His focus shifted to you. “Are you hurt?”
You shook your head, trying to brush sand off your legs. “No. I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh,” Sungchan cut you off, gesturing at your forehead. “You’re bleeding.”
“What?” You blinked, reaching up to touch your temple. Sure enough, there was a faint smear of blood when you looked at your fingers.
“Just a small cut,” he said, helping you up. “Come on, let’s clean that up.”
You barely had time to protest before Sungchan was already leading you toward the lifeguard tower. You waited by the steps as he grabbed a first aid kit with urgency.
“Sit,” he said as he stepped down. You sat and watched Sungchan do his thing. “This’ll sting a little,” he warned, dabbing at your cut with an antiseptic wipe.
“It’s fine,” you mumbled, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. The proximity was overwhelming—he smelled like sunscreen and saltwater, his face far too close for comfort.
As he finished cleaning the cut, Sungchan grabbed a band-aid and carefully placed it over the small wound. His hand lingered for a second longer than necessary, his brow furrowing slightly.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” he asked suddenly.
Of course, he didn’t remember you. “I guess,” you said, offering a small, nervous smile as you told him your name. “From a couple summers ago.”
Sungchan’s hands paused for a second, recognition lighting up his face. “Ah! Yes. I remember you now.” He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Wow. You’ve… changed.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you quipped, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “You’ve changed quite a bit too.”
He smiled and pointed at yout cut. “You’re lucky it was just a small scratch,” he said, eyes lingering on you. “Or else I might have had to go full lifeguard mode and perform some CPR.”
You rolled your eyes, leaning back on the lifeguard tower. “I’m pretty sure I’d survive without the dramatic rescue.”
Sungchan chuckled, his voice dropping just low enough for you to hear. “You sure? Because I don’t mind saving you each time you need me to.”
A small laugh escaped you, feeling more at ease now. “Why, thank you. But I think I can handle myself.”
“Oh I don’t doubt it,” he said, his tone shifting to something a little more teasing. “But I really wouldn’t mind seeing more of you.”
You raised an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth twitching into a smirk. “Is that so? Are you flirting with me, Sungchan?”
He shrugged, pretending to look innocent. “Would it be so bad if I was?” he asked back, gaze flicking at your lips for a split-second.
Before you could respond, you caught movement from the corner of your eye. When you glanced sideways, it was Anton. He stood just a few feet away, his expression dark and unreadable. His eyes moved from you to Sungchan, his jaw tightening ever so slightly.
You waved at him. “Hey! You’re back!” you called out, remembering Aunt Hyejin’s instruction to remind him of a chore.
Anton didn’t respond, his eyes flicking over you briefly before he turned and jogged toward the house, his pace quick as if he had somewhere to be.
You frowned slightly, unable to dismiss the attitude. “I’ve gotta go,” you said, standing up quickly. “Thanks for this. And see you around, Sungchan.”
“Oh, you’re leaving?” Sungchan asked, his tone still light, but there was a spark of curiosity in his eyes. He stood up too. “Will I see you at the party tonight? 8pm at the clubhouse?”
You didn’t give it much thought as you glanced at Anton’s retreating figure. “Yeah! See you there!” You flashed a smile, already jogging after Anton.
“Anton, wait up!” you called, sprinting after him on the sand. Your feet sank with every step, making it harder to keep up. He didn’t even glance back, his strides deliberate and fast, like he was on a mission to get as far away from you as possible.
“Seriously? Are you even listening?” you shouted, frustration lacing your voice.
Still nothing. By the time you made it to the house, your chest was heaving, partly from running and partly from annoyance. Anton was already in the kitchen, chugging down a glass of water.
“Your mom left a note for you on the fridge,” you said, your tone sharper than you intended.
He didn’t say a word, just set the glass down, turned the fridge door, yanked the note and held it up for you to see without a word.
“What? It’s for you, not me,” you blurted, crossing your arms.
Anton simply folded the note in half, shoved it into his pocket, and walked away. You stood there, fuming, watching his retreating figure disappear around the corner. What was his problem?
Something was definitely wrong. Leaning against the counter, you tried to make sense of what just happened. Was it something you said? Something you did? You wracked your brain, sifting through every interaction you’d had with him, wondering if you somehow did something to offend or anger him in any way.
The last time you’d seen him was at your high school graduation two years ago. He’d been his usual self then—kind, supportive, making jokes to ease your nerves before the ceremony. If something had happened between then and now, it would have to be major for him to act like this after two whole years. But try as you might, you couldn’t think of anything.
And maybe that was true, this wasn’t about what you did. Maybe nothing had happened at all. Maybe this was just him now—more distant, more mature. The kind of guy who had outgrown childhood friendships.
Your chest tightened as the realization slowly crept in. Anton has changed. He doesn’t even look like the Anton you knew anymore. The messy bangs that used to fall into his eyes were gone, replaced by a clean, swept-back look that showed off his sharp jawline and cheekbones. Back then, he had that cute, boy-next-door thing going on, but now? Now he looked like he’d stepped out of some posh fashion campaign.
Even his eyes were different. They were the same shade, sure, but the warmth was missing. Instead, they felt sharper, like he wasn’t just looking at you but sizing you up, as if he didn’t quite know what to make of you anymore.
It was weird. And upsetting. Because no matter how much you tried to shake it off, it felt like the guy you used to know was gone. And you weren’t sure if you should feel proud of the man he’d become or mourn the boy you’d lost.
The tinkling sound of the door chime signaled someone’s arrival, jolting you out of your thoughts. Your mom popped her head in from the main door, flashing you a quick smile. “Hi, hun. Can you come down and help with the groceries? We’ve got bags of stuff to unload.”
“Yeah, sure,” you said, grateful for the excuse to stop spiraling. “I’ll go change first.” You pushed off the counter and headed for the stairs, trying to leave thoughts of Anton behind.
Chatter filled the kitchen as you unpacked groceries with your mom and Aunt Hyejin. They worked efficiently and synchronously, the kind of rhythm that only came from years of friendship.
“I’m telling you, we did not run into a celebrity at the market,” Aunt Hyejin said, waving a carton of eggs for emphasis.
“Then why did he look exactly like Gong Yoo?” your mom shot back, her tone smug.
“Because you see Gong Yoo in every man with nice hair and a sharp jawline,” Aunt Hyejin retorted, placing the eggs on the counter.
“What about that one time at the airport…”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as they continued their playful bickering. And just as your mood started to lighten, Anton walked into the kitchen. Without a word, he handed an envelope to Aunt Hyejin. His mom looked at it briefly and set it aside, mid-sentence with your mom.
Anton turned to leave, but then paused. “I’m heading to the clubhouse,” he said, his tone flat.
Aunt Hyejin looked up with a casual smile on her face. “Why don’t you take her with you?” she asked, nodding toward you. “I’m sure she’s bored hanging out with us.”
Anton’s eyes flicked to yours, holding your gaze for a moment longer than necessary. His expression was unreadable, but something in his stare made you shift uncomfortably.
You waved it off quickly. “It’s fine, Auntie. I’ll go next time.”
Anton tilted his head, lips curving into a faint smirk. “She doesn’t need me to take her there anyway,” he said, his voice laced with a condescension that set your teeth on edge. “She’s already got someone’s invitation to tonight’s party.”
The insinuation hit its mark, and for a second, you stared at him, trying to process the shade he’d just thrown. He didn’t wait for a response, though. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you simmering in annoyance.
Your mom and Aunt Hyejin exchanged a look. “Did you two fight?” your mom asked, eyebrows raised in concern.
“I don’t know,” you muttered, slamming a box of cereal onto the counter. “He’s been grumpy since this morning. I don’t wanna deal with it. And seriously, what’s up with his hair?”
“I think it looks great on him,” your mom said, glancing at Aunt Hyejin. “He’s grown so much in just two years. I almost didn’t recognize him at first.”
Aunt Hyejin nodded, a fond smile softening her features. “Yeah. Junyoung kept saying he’s got a glow up. We’re a family of late bloomers, you see.”
Their conversation continued, shifting to reminiscing about childhood antics and growth spurts, but you weren’t paying attention anymore. Your hands moved automatically, storing away groceries, while your mind replayed Anton’s jab over and over. Annoyance bubbled to the surface, threatening to spill over.
By the time the last bag was unpacked, you were practically seething. If this was the new Anton, you weren’t sure how much of him you could take.
The clubhouse was already crowded when you arrived. It was the same lively scene you remembered from previous summers: groups of people chatting at small tables, others lounging by the bar, drinks and snacks being passed around, strobe lights, and noisy music.
“Hey, you made it!” Sungchan’s familiar voice rang out above the noise. He was by the pool table, his grin as easy as ever, as he waved you over.
You smiled and headed his way. “Barely,” you teased. “This place is packed.”
“Summer crowd,” he said with a shrug. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”
Sungchan was effortlessly charming, bringing you into conversations with people you’d only vaguely remembered from previous summers—or didn’t know at all. He had a way of making things feel casual, light, and fun, and it wasn’t long before you were laughing with his friends.
Somewhere in between introductions, Sungchan leaned closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “Did you come here with Anton?”
Your smile faltered. “No. Why?”
He tilted his head toward the bar. “Because he’s been looking this way every five seconds since you walked in.”
You followed his gaze, and there he was—Anton, leaning casually against the bar, a drink in hand. His relaxed posture contradicted the sharpness in his eyes as they flicked in your direction. He was talking to a group of people you recognized as the self-proclaimed elites of the clubhouse—the rich kids, the ones he’d always found insufferable.
You blinked, momentarily thrown off. Since when had Anton started hanging out with them? He used to avoid this place altogether, grumbling about the kids who were too rich, too smug, and too full of themselves. And yet, there he was, laughing along with them, fitting in like he’d belonged there all along.
Before you could dwell on it, a voice called out your name. You spun around to see Yejin, one of the friends you’d spent countless summer days with.
“There you are!” she called, waving from a nearby table. “Took you long enough!”
Grateful for the distraction, you turned away from Anton and made your way to Yejin, Hana, and Sohee, who greeted you with the kind of warmth and comfort that came from being with people you’d known for years. You got swept up in a hearty conversation—reminiscing, teasing, catching up on the details of two summers you’d missed. They bombarded you with questions, half-complaints about your absence, and enough inside jokes to make you laugh until your cheeks hurt.
“But seriously,” Sohee said, narrowing her eyes at you. “Where were you?”
“Life just got crazy, okay?” you explained, putting your hands up in mock surrender.
“Crazy? You ditched us for two whole years!” Hana chimed in, raising an eyebrow. “That’s two summers.”
“I know. So instead of holding me hostage for being gone, how about filling me in on what I missed?” you shot back, laughing.
Yejin leaned closer, her voice dripping with mischief. “We’ll fill you in, all right. But first—what’s going on with you and Sungchan?”
You opened your mouth to deny it, but before you could, Sungchan appeared beside you, an innocent smile plastered across his face.
“Am I the topic of conversation?” he asked, his elbow nudging yours as he stood beside you. “I see, you’re catching up with your friends.”
Yejin narrowed her eyes at Sungchan, feigning suspicion. “Mr. Jung Sungchan, what’s the meaning of this?”
Sungchan glanced briefly at you. “Nothing. Your cute friend just happened to be generous enough to spare some of her precious time for me.”
Your friends exchanged glances and burst out laughing. Sohee was uncannily loud. “Generous enough? Surely you knew she was head over—”
You lunged at him, covering his mouth before he could finish talking. “This party is amazing, isn’t it?”
Sungchan just chuckled. “It is. Like I said, summer crowd.”
The chat continued, most of the attention directed at you because obviously, they wanted to catch up with you.
“So, are you two like a thing now?” Yejin asked, her tone playful as she raised an eyebrow at you and Sungchan.
“Definitely not,” you replied, rolling your eyes.
Sungchan clutched his chest, feigning hurt. “Wow, didn’t even hesitate. And here I was, thinking we had something special.”
“Dude, we only started talking like five hours ago,” you retorted. “You’ll live.”
The group erupted in laughter, and Sohee grinned. “I don’t know, man. You seem to have some competition.”
“Competition?” Sungchan repeated.
Before Sohee could elaborate, Anton appeared beside him, clapping a hand on his back. “Don’t mind him,” he said, his voice smooth but pointed. “Sohee thinks everything’s a competition. Remember last summer’s beach volleyball? He still claims he didn’t cheat.”
Sohee gasped, his hand to his chest. “I didn’t!”
“Sure,” Anton drawled, his gaze flicking briefly to you before shifting back to Sohee. “Just like you didn’t accidentally trip over Hana to block that shot.”
“Speaking of beach volleyball,” Sungchan slid back into the group seamlessly, his charm lighting up the conversation. He nudged your arm playfully. “Weren’t you a former MVP?”
You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “I used to be. That was three years ago, though. I think I’ve gotten rusty.”
“Don’t be modest,” Yejin teased, grinning at Sungchan. “She was a menace on the court. You’ve seen her, right? Our team was unbeatable because of her.”
Hana pointed at Sungchan. “Remember when we massacred Bay Area-3 four years ago? Must’ve sucked,” she added, shaking her head in exaggerated pity.
You hummed contentedly, leaning into the lightheartedness. “Too bad the season’s over. I would’ve loved to do it again.”
“Hey, I was on that team too,” Sohee interjected, pouting as if his contributions had been forgotten.
Sungchan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I think we need a rematch. Let me know when you’re ready to lose.”
Yejin scoffed. “You’re on.”
“I’ll referee,” Anton offered unexpectedly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Someone’s gotta keep things fair, after all.”
“Oh, because you’re so unbiased?” you quipped before you could stop yourself.
Anton glanced at you, his gaze steady but unreadable. “I’m just saying, someone needs to make sure Sungchan doesn’t get away with calling fouls on every play.”
“Hey, I don’t do that!” Sungchan protested, laughing.
“You totally do,” Yejin chimed in, pointing a finger at him. “Remember last time? Every time you missed, suddenly it was, ‘The sun was in my eyes,’ or, ‘That wasn’t regulation height.’”
The group dissolved into laughter, and after some playful banter, a spontaneous agreement was made to hold a beach volleyball rematch in a few days. Sungchan excused himself first, saying he needed to spread the word to his Bay Area-3 team.
To you, he added, “You can find me back at the pool table later. Have fun catching up.”
As Sungchan walked away, you felt a prickle of awareness. Anton’s gaze was on you again. You met his eyes and raised an eyebrow. What? you mouthed, a silent challenge.
Predictably, he didn’t respond. His expression didn’t change, but he looked away, taking a slow sip from his drink. The moment passed as one of his new, polished friends called him over. He offered your group a brisk goodbye before heading back to their circle.
You exhaled, but your chest felt tight. It was weird seeing Anton blend so naturally with people he’d once disliked. You hadn’t realized how much it bothered you until now.
“Since when has he been hanging out with those people?” you asked, unable to keep the curiosity—and maybe the faintest trace of disbelief—out of your voice.
Hana leaned closer, lowering her tone conspiratorially. “He went to the same college as some of them. It’s actually kind of impressive, in a way. I didn’t think any of them were smart enough to get into a good university.”
You nodded absently, your thoughts tangled. “It’s just... weird seeing him with them when he used to complain about them all the time.”
“Well, people change,” Yejin said with a shrug, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Maybe he likes them now.”
You didn’t respond. There was no point in sharing the discomfort curling in your stomach when no one else seemed fazed. Instead, you busied yourself with your drink as conversation shifted to lighter topics—new schools, old gossip, and what everyone had been up to since high school.
You smiled and laughed along, but your thoughts kept drifting. No matter how much you tried, they always found their way back to Anton.
The night was in full swing by the time you found yourself sitting at a round table with Yejin, Hana, and a few other familiar faces. Sungchan leaned back in his chair beside you, his easy grin practically lighting up the conversation.
“So,” one acquaintance said, raising an eyebrow as she swirled her drink, “how does it feel to be back after two years? Like nothing’s changed?”
You smiled, though the question struck a little too close to home. “It feels great, honestly. I didn’t realize how much I missed everyone until now.”
“You’re lucky we even let you back in,” another one teased, leaning forward with a mock stern look. “Two summers is basically an eternity.”
Yejin chimed in, pointing her straw at you. “I told you she’d just waltz back in like nothing happened.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but a new voice cut through the chatter. “That’s kind of her thing, isn’t it?”
Your head whipped toward Anton, who had been leaning casually against the wall nearby. His voice was calm, almost disinterested, but there was a sharpness to it that pricked at your skin.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, forcing a laugh that felt a little too light.
Anton glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before looking back at the group. “She’s good at jumping back into things like nothing ever happened.” Then to you, he said slowly and clearly, “That’s just how you’ve always been.”
The table went quiet for a few seconds too long. Sungchan shot you a look—half amused, half wary—while Yejin frowned, the corners of her mouth twitching as if unsure whether to laugh or intervene.
You felt your cheeks burn, but you refused to let it show. “Well, some of us don’t go through drastic changes in just two years,” you shot back, forcing a smile.
Anton’s gaze flicked to you for a moment, his lips curling in a faint, almost imperceptible smirk. “Guess not.”
The conversation resumed, though the tension lingered in the background. Yejin quickly steered the group onto lighter topics, and soon enough, the table was filled with laughter again.
But you couldn’t shake away Anton’s words. They sat in the back of your mind, nagging at you even as you tried to ignore them.
Sungchan leaned closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “You okay?” he asked softly.
“Fine.” You smiled at him, grateful, but the knot in your chest didn’t loosen. Instead, your eyes found Anton again, now standing by the bar with a drink in hand. He didn’t look your way, but you were swearing at him in your head, determined to get to the bottom of whatever his problem was as soon as you were alone.
The wait didn’t take long. While you were squeezed beside Sungchan on a plush couch, his arm draped over your shoulder, feeling more carefree after several drinks, Anton appeared before you with his brows furrowed.
“I’m going home,” he said flatly, his eyes flicking between you and Sungchan.
You scowled. “And? What does that have to do with me?”
He sighed, taking your drink away and placing it on the table with a pointed glance. “Your mom would kill me if I left without you. Come on.”
You rolled your eyes and stood up, bidding Sungchan a quick goodbye. He let you go with a soft kiss on your cheek, his voice warm as he said, “Text me when you’re home, okay?”
You nodded, though you knew you’d probably forget. Your focus was already on Anton, who was heading out the door without waiting for you.
You struggled to catch up with his long strides, but you didn’t complain, knowing he’d just ignore you if you did. The alcohol made your annoyance simmer louder, and in your head, you practiced the scathing words you’d unleash as soon as you were alone with him.
But Anton had other plans. The car stereo blasted as soon as the engine started, drowning out any attempt you made to speak. You knew he was doing it on purpose, and it made you angrier.
The ride felt like an eternity, tension crackling in the silence between the loud beats of the music. When the car finally pulled up in the garage, Anton got out without a word, leaving you to stumble after him. He was already halfway inside the house when you kicked off your heels and stormed in.
“You’re back early,” Aunt Hyejin greeted from the living room, where she and your mom sat in their pajamas watching a movie. “Oh, what’s wrong?”
“Hi, Auntie. Hi, Mom,” you said briskly, barely glancing their way as you followed Anton up the stairs.
“What happened?” your mom called after you, but you didn’t stop to answer.
The alcohol made it easier to ignore the logic telling you to let it go. You caught the door just as Anton was about to close it, your hand slamming against the wood.
“What’s your problem?” you snapped as you pushed your way into his bedroom, slamming the door behind you.
Anton didn’t even flinch. He casually walked over to his closet, rummaging through it for a fresh shirt. “What is it this time?” His tone was too monotonous, almost mocking.
“‘That’s just how you’ve always been.’” You gestured wildly, your voice rising with frustration as you mimicked his indifferent tone. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Anton?”
His brow twitched, and for a split second, you thought he might actually look sorry. But no. Instead, he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms like he had all the time in the world to deal with your meltdown.
“It’s not that deep,” he said, his tone infuriatingly calm. “You’re overreacting.”
You let out a disbelieving laugh. “Overreacting? You’ve barely said two words to me since I got here, and when you finally do, it’s to throw some passive-aggressive jab about how I’ve ‘always been’ like that? What is it exactly? Too loud? Too much? Too—”
“Annoying,” he cut in, his voice low but sharp enough to slice through your tirade.
The word struck a nerve, silencing you. Your breath hitched, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him.
“Annoying?” you echoed, your voice shaking. “Wow. So that’s what you think of me now? Or have you always thought I was annoying?”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if this conversation was physically exhausting him. “Why are you so hung up on this?”
“Am I?” You took a step closer, your pulse quickening as anger spiked through you. “Alright then, sue me for always being like this. I didn’t change like you did. I’m still annoying, and I’ve—” You made air quotes, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “—‘always been like this.’”
“Enough,” Anton sighed, exasperated.
“What other grievances do you have against me, Anton?” you shot back, your patience worn thin. “Come on. Let’s hear it.”
“That’s enough,” he said firmly, uttering your name warningly in a way that made your stomach flip—not with fear, but with something far more complicated.
But you weren’t about to back down. “No, I’m not done. You don’t get to act like you’re some untouchable, brooding—”
Before you could finish, he grabbed your wrist—not hard, but enough to make you freeze. His other hand settled on your waist, and in one swift motion, he pulled you closer. You opened your mouth to protest, but his lips crashed into yours before you could even make a sound.
Anton kissed you.
It wasn’t soft or tentative. It was messy and careless, born of frustration and something you couldn’t put a finger on. Your hands pressed against his chest instinctively, not enough to push him away but not quite pulling him closer either.
When he finally pulled back, his breath was warm against your cheek. His grip on your waist loosened, but he didn’t let go completely.
“See?” he muttered, smirking as he took a small step back. “Still annoying.”
You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind a storm of confusion and something else you couldn’t quite name. Anton seemed completely unfazed, tugging his shirt off and changing right there in front of you. You were still frozen in place when he glanced back at you, flicking your forehead with an almost playful arrogance.
“Ow!” you groaned, snapped back to reality.
“It's just a kiss. Don’t obsess over it,” he teased, his eyes flicking to your lips for a moment before he turned, striding toward the door.
You stood there, the words echoing in your head—‘Just a kiss.’ He didn’t even look back as he walked out, leaving you standing in the middle of his room, heart still racing, mind still reeling.
You first met Anton when you were seven. It was the first of your many summers in their little hometown by the sea. Your mom had just finished unpacking your bags when Anton’s mother brought him over to say hello.
He didn’t say much, hiding behind her skirt and eyeing you like you were some strange creature he wasn’t sure he liked yet. But that didn’t last long. Later that afternoon, when the adults were chatting over iced tea on the porch, he shyly tugged at your sleeve and said, “Do you wanna see my pet turtle?”
You had gasped at the time, pleasantly surprised. “You have a turtle?”
“Yeah! It looks like a dinosaur!” he had responded with gleaming eyes.
That was all it took. One look at the tiny turtle swimming in a glass tank on his bedroom windowsill, and suddenly you weren’t just visiting strangers—you had a friend.
Summer after summer, the two of you grew closer. You didn’t get to spend Christmases together or birthdays, but summer break was sacred. Your families would get together at their beach house like a tradition, and that house quickly became a second home to you. Its wooden floors creaked under your bare feet, and the salty breeze always carried the sound of seagulls and laughter.
Anton was funny in a way that always caught you off guard, soft-spoken but bursting with energy when the mood struck. He had a wild streak too, like the time he dared you to jump off the pier into the ocean—even though you’d both been warned a hundred times not to. You ended up doing it, and you both got grounded for the rest of the week.
When you were eleven, he taught you how to ride a bike—well, tried to. He kept insisting he wasn’t laughing at you every time you tipped over, but you could see the way he bit his lip to hold back a grin. And when you finally managed to ride down the dirt path without falling, he cheered so loudly the neighbors peeked out their windows to see what all the fuss was about.
He wasn’t always the wild one, though. There were quieter moments too—like when the two of you built sandcastles on the beach and argued about whether a moat was necessary, or when you’d sit under the teepee in his room, eating popsicles and reading comic books.
For years, he was a head shorter than you, something you loved to tease him about relentlessly. “When are you gonna catch up, Anton?” you’d giggle, ruffling his hair.
“You’ll see,” he’d retort with a determined pout. “I’m gonna grow taller than you someday. Dad said it’s gonna happen soon.��
It became an annual joke, one he stubbornly refused to give up on even as the years passed and your height difference barely changed. Then, when you were sixteen, it finally happened. You came back that summer and found Anton waiting at the door, looking taller than he’d ever been. At first, you didn’t believe it, but the smug grin on his face told you he waited for you at the front door on purpose.
“You’re standing on something,” you accused, squinting at him.
“Nope,” he said, grinning wide as he tapped his bare feet against the porch. “I told you, didn’t I?”
By then, he wasn’t just taller; he was different in ways you couldn’t quite put into words. It was sometime after that same summer that you realized your feelings for Anton weren’t as simple as you thought.
You were teenagers, going through all the awkward, messy stages of puberty. He was becoming more handsome by the day, his boyish features sharpening in ways that made you notice things you hadn’t before. His smile seemed more charming, his laughter endearing, and you were left grappling with a new, inconvenient truth—you had a crush on your best friend.
It wasn’t like it was hard to fall for him. You’d never given it much thought before, but Anton had always been attentive to you. Having a crush on him made you see him in a different light, and his kind nature soon made your heart flutter. He teased you mercilessly, sure, but he always knew when to stop. If you were upset or sulking, he had this uncanny ability to bring you out of it without even trying.
He’d wait for you at the end of the dock whenever you hesitated to jump, his hand outstretched with a soft smile on his lips. If you got hurt—whether it was a scraped knee or a bruised ego—he was always the first to check on you. He never let you carry heavy things, always taking your bag without a word even when you protested. Sometimes you’d be shivering after a late swim, he would throw his towel over your shoulders and grin, saying you looked like a wet puppy.
He had this way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the world, even when he was teasing you. Like the summer he spent two hours untangling the kite you’d accidentally gotten stuck in a tree, refusing to let you help because “you’ll just make it worse.” Or the time he taught you how to skip stones on the water. He’d stood behind you, guiding your arm with his, his chest brushing your back as he whispered instructions, so close you could barely focus.
For a while, you were convinced you were in love with him. But even then, you knew better than to say anything. What if it ruined everything? What if your confession turned your friendship into something awkward and strained? What would his parents—your second family—think if you jeopardized the bond your two families shared?
So, you buried it. Tucked away that silly, puppy love into the deepest corners of your mind, letting it stay there as a bittersweet secret. You told yourself it was fine. You didn’t need him to love you back. It was enough just to be around him, to laugh with him, to call him your best friend.
And it worked. For years, it worked.
He went back to being your platonic soulmate, the person who knew you better than anyone else. The crush faded into the background, becoming a harmless relic of your teenage years—something you could look back on with fondness but without longing. Anton was family. Almost like a brother, considering the way you’d grown up together.
Or so you thought..
Now, you lay in your dimly lit bedroom, staring at the ceiling with your hand pressed to your chest. You could still feel the sensation of his lips on yours, and the memory played on a loop in your mind.
Anton had kissed you. On the lips. And you didn’t know how to feel about it.
No, that wasn’t entirely true. You did know.
The affection you’d convinced yourself was long gone—that you’d painstakingly buried under layers of denial—wasn’t gone at all. It had been lying dormant, quietly waiting for something to wake it up. And now, with one impulsive kiss, Anton had yanked it out of its slumber.
What made it worse was Anton himself. He didn’t seem the least bit affected. He’d walked out of the room as if the kiss meant nothing, leaving you to deal with the fallout alone. Did he even care? Did he even think about what it would do to you, kissing you like that and walking away?
You let out a frustrated sigh, pressing your palms to your eyes as if you could physically stop your thoughts from spiraling.
It was too much. Anton had been too much these days. And now, he’d managed to unravel years of carefully built denial with one impulsive, reckless kiss.
What are you supposed to do now?
The next few days were unbearable. You tried your best to pretend nothing had happened between you and Anton, but that had never been your strong suit. Pretending didn’t come naturally to you, and something as major as that kiss was impossible to ignore. And Anton? Oh, he must have been having the time of his life watching you squirm.
He didn’t ignore you anymore—not like before—but a big part of you wished he just stayed indifferent and mean. He’d sit beside you at breakfast, close enough for his knee to bump against yours under the table. He’d call your name just to ask something unimportant, so casually too like the kiss didn’t even happen. Then, every once in a while, he’d throw in a remark that made your stomach flip.
“Still thinking about it?” he asked once, leaning against the dock railing as you peered down at the clear water.
You’d nearly dropped your phone in the water. “About what?”
He raised an eyebrow, a sly smile pulling at his lips. “You know what.”
You wanted to strangle him.
And the worst part? He didn’t care if anyone else was around when he did it. Around family, he kept his teasing just vague enough that no one else would catch on, subtle enough not to raise suspicions. But his remarks were bold enough to set your heart racing and leave you panicking that someone might pick up on your little secret.
By the time a week had passed, you were on the brink of losing it.
Anton’s dad had arrived back from work, and to celebrate, the family decided on a big barbecue dinner. Naturally, you and Anton were tasked with picking up groceries. It was something you often did together, but that was before. Now you just wanted to be as far away from him as possible.
Still, you didn’t argue. Obviously you couldn’t risk drawing attention to yourself and raising questions. Since the kiss, you hadn’t yet been alone with him, and the thought of sitting in a car with just him was making your stomach churn.
When Anton leaned over to buckle your seatbelt—his hand brushing your arm in a way that felt entirely too intentional—you swatted him away.
“I can do it myself,” you snapped.
He smirked, leaning back into his seat as if you hadn’t just scolded him. “You’re welcome.”
At the grocery store, things were mercifully normal. The conversation stayed focused on the errand. You stuck to the list, pointing out items while Anton grabbed them, and for a moment, it felt like those times in the past when you did the same errand. But then, as you were scanning a shelf for the right brand of barbecue sauce, you saw a familiar face along the aisle.
“Sungchan!” you called out, waving a hand in the air and failing to notice Anton scowling behind you.
The sight of him brought a welcome distraction, and you walked over with a smile creeping onto your face. You exchanged pleasantries, and he introduced you to his mom, who seemed just as charming as he was. Over the past week, you’d been texting with him and had even gone on a few strolls along the beach. He was funny and easygoing, and things seemed to be going well—if only you could focus on this rather than having Anton occupy space in your head.
“Didn’t expect to run into you here,” he said, his gaze flickering briefly to Anton, who stood a few steps behind you, his hands shoved into his pockets.
“Small town,” you replied with a laugh.
You chatted for a few minutes before his mom gently reminded him about their errands. Before leaving, he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek. It was quick and casual, but it made your cheeks burn nonetheless.
“See you soon,” Sungchan said, stepping back. “Volleyball match is on Tuesday. Don’t forget,” he added, glancing between you and Anton before walking away.
You turned back to Anton, hoping he hadn’t noticed your flushed cheeks, but of course, he had.
“You’re blushing,” he said, his voice teasing but sharper at the edges than usual.
“It’s hot,” you muttered, grabbing a random bottle of barbecue sauce and tossing it into the cart without even looking at the label.
Anton reached over, grabbed the bottle, and placed it back on the shelf. “This one’s for pasta. You’re a mess today.”
You glared at him. “Maybe I wouldn’t be if someone wasn’t constantly trying to mess with me.”
“Who, me?” Anton’s expression was pure mock innocence.
“Yes, you!” You snatched another bottle off the shelf, shoving it into the cart with unnecessary force before walking ahead.
He trailed behind, his voice light but carrying a certain edge. “So... you and Sungchan, huh?”
“What about us?” you said flatly, not bothering to look back.
“Oh, nothing,” Anton replied, leaning casually against the cart handle. “It’s just cute, that’s all. The way he looks at you like you’re a goddess or something. And that kiss on the cheek?” He let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Real smooth.”
Your brows furrowed, genuinely wondering if he was being sarcastic. He looked at you and added, “Bet he writes poems about you in his free time.”
You scoffed. “Do you really think he’s that kind of guy? Have you seen him?”
Anton shrugged. “How would I know? I’m just making a guess since you’ve had the biggest crush on him for a long time and you once told me he looked like the kind of guy who writes poems for their girlfriend.”
You grimaced. “Ew. When did I say that?”
“When we were twelve,” he answered with a nonchalant shrug.
Your eyes widened slightly before you huffed. “Well, I was twelve. And I didn’t know what I was talking about.”
Anton scoffed mockingly. “No. He is that kind of guy. Romantic, spontaneous, and totally not like other guys who party till sunrise, chase after pretty girls and hookup for funsies,” he said sarcastically, smirking.
You turned to face him, your annoyance now outweighing your embarrassment. “What’s your problem?”
“No problem,” he said with a too-innocent shrug. “Just thought it was cute, that’s all. You’ve got a little admirer.”
You rolled your eyes, grabbing a pack of skewers and tossing it into the cart. “Whatever. It’s none of your business, anyway.”
“Nice, sure,” Anton drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I do hope you don’t end up as another notch on his bedpost by the time summer ends.”
“Are you seriously doing this right now?” you shot back in frustration.
He straightened up, his smirk softening into something you couldn’t quite read. “What? I’m just looking out for you. Making sure you know what you’re getting into.”
“By mocking me?”
“By being honest,” he corrected, leaning slightly closer, his voice dropping low enough to send a shiver down your spine.
You huffed, staring right back at him with no intention to back down. “Whatever I do this summer, whoever I do it with, is none of your business, Anton. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing since I got here. Keep ignoring me and continue acting like a total prick, because I’m done trying to figure out what I did so wrong to deserve this treatment from you.”
Anton’s smirk faltered, replaced by something harder to read. His jaw tightened, but instead of snapping back, he turned away. Without another word, he pushed the cart down the aisle, leaving you standing there, fuming and wondering if it was possible to strangle someone with barbecue tongs.
The silence that followed felt heavy, pressing against your chest, but you refused to dwell on it. Let him walk away if he wanted. Let him stew in whatever self-righteous attitude he’d decided to adopt this summer. You’re done walking on eggshells around him.
In the evening, you gathered in the backyard with your mom and the Lee family, everyone moving around busily to prepare dinner—setting up the table, checking the grill, and bringing out the salads and sides.
The sound of sizzling meat, the laughter and chatter, along with the faint echo of the waves lapping at the beach made you feel nostalgic. Barbecue nights like this had been a staple of your summers here. You hadn’t thought about them much in the two years you were away, but now that you were experiencing it again, you realized how much you’d missed it.
You focused on your tasks, determined to push away the tension from earlier at the store. The last thing you wanted was to let Anton get under your skin.
But Anton had other ideas. He was stuck to you like glue. Every time you moved to do something, he was right there, offering to help.
While you were helping Aunt Hyejin arrange side dishes, you were also trying to brush off the occasional bump of Anton’s shoulder as he reached for something nearby. It was hard to ignore the way he hovered close—not enough to draw attention, but enough to keep your nerves on edge.
“Need anything?” he asked as you washed the lettuce.
You glanced at him, your expression flat. “No, I’m good,” you said, shaking the excess water off the leaves.
He didn’t seem to take the hint. “You sure? I can—”
“No,” you cut him off, tugging the lettuce away when he reached for it. “I can do it myself.”
He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, but instead of arguing, he grabbed a tray of meat and started skewering it—purposefully working a little too close to where you were standing.
The family, oblivious to your silent war, carried on. Junyoung teased you about your time abroad, nudging you playfully. “Bet you missed this, huh?”
“Missed what?” you asked, playing along.
“This. You can’t get this kind of barbecue anywhere else.”
You laughed but didn’t answer because Anton spoke first. “Junyoung, didn’t Dad ask you to get the charcoal?”
“Oh, crap. Right.” Junyoung hurried off, leaving you and Anton alone at the counter.
Your eyes flicked toward Anton who seemed too immersed in his task. “Move. I need space for this,” you demanded, motioning to the tray in your hand.
His gaze shifted to you for a moment, before he returned to the meat and vegetables. “If you’re done with that, come help me with these,” he said flatly.
Scoffing, you picked up the tray of washed greens and headed outside.
Once everything was set up, you took a seat at the long table, intentionally placing yourself as far from Anton as possible. Plates were filled, glasses poured, and lively chatter filled the air. But just as you lifted your fork, Anton’s voice caught your attention.
“Junyoung, move over. I’m sitting there.”
Your eyes widened as Anton casually nudged his brother out of the way, sliding into the seat beside you without hesitation. Junyoung gave you a confused look, and you could only shrug.
Anton glanced at you as he settled in. “You don’t mind, right?” he asked, his tone almost too sweet, like he wasn’t giving you a choice.
You grimaced. “Do whatever you want. It’s your house.”
To your surprise, Anton became uncharacteristically attentive. He refilled your plate with meat, made wraps for you, and handed over dishes you couldn’t reach. You tried to focus on the conversation around you, but it was impossible to ignore the sincerity in his actions—or the way his gaze lingered a little too long.
It wasn’t long before Anton’s father spoke up, his deep voice cutting through the chatter. “Well, it’s nice to see you two getting along again,” he said, his gentle gaze flicking between you and Anton.
Anton raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “What do you mean?”
“The two of you,” his father replied, pointing at you and Anton. “I heard whispers about how you two weren’t speaking while I was gone. Did something happen?”
“You noticed that?” Anton asked.
Your mom chimed. “Oh, we all did. You’ve been inseparable since you were kids. Of course we’d notice if you suddenly act like strangers.”
“It’s good that you’ve made up. I thought we’d have to mediate some big falling out,” Aunt Hyejin added with a laugh, glancing between you and Anton.
Anton’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t say anything, focusing instead on the wrap he was making.
“It was weird,” your mom continued, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease. “These two were like peas in a pod growing up. They’d even sneak out at night to stargaze on the beach together. Remember that?”
You groaned inwardly. “Mom, please.”
“Oh, don’t act embarrassed,” your aunt said, waving a hand. “It’s cute! We all thought it was adorable.”
Anton’s father narrowed his eyes playfully. “So, what happened? Did you fight?”
Before you could stammer out a reply, Anton finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. “Nothing happened. We’re fine.”
“That’s it?” his father pressed, clearly unsatisfied.
Anton glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment too long. “That’s it.”
The table erupted into laughter, with your mom and Aunt Hyejin exchanging knowing looks.
“Well, I guess all’s well that ends well,” your mom said, smiling. “You two were always quick to make up anyway.”
You tried to laugh it off, focusing on your plate and ignoring the way Anton’s arm brushed against yours under the table.
As the meal wrapped up and people began clearing plates, Anton stood abruptly. He didn’t announce anything to the table, just leaned down slightly toward you, his voice low enough that only you could hear.
“Air?” he asked simply, gesturing toward the beach.
For a moment, you hesitated. Then, realizing the family’s focus was elsewhere, you pushed your chair back and followed him.
Anton led the way down the path toward the beach, hands in his pockets. You followed, keeping your eyes on the back of his head as your feet sank slightly into the cool sand. The sound of waves crashing on the shore stirred something in you—restlessness, maybe. Or nostalgia.
Then he stopped by the shoreline, where the water lapped softly, and sat down.
“Are you planning to stand there all night?” he asked, glancing up at you and tapping the space next to him.
You rolled your eyes and plopped down a few feet away, deliberately creating distance. The breeze tugged at your hair, and for a moment, neither of you spoke, letting the sound of the waves fill the silence.
“They think we’ve made up,” you said finally, breaking the stillness.
Anton huffed a quiet laugh. “They’ve got no idea, huh?”
“Not a clue,” you replied, smirking faintly. “I don’t even know why we were fighting. Or if it was even a fight in the first place. This is your fault.”
His brow quirked at that, but instead of biting back, he chuckled softly. “Maybe it was me. I’ll take the blame.”
“You’ve been sticking to me all night,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “Acting all nice, making wraps for me at dinner… What’s that about?”
Anton tilted his head toward you, his expression unreadable. “Why? You don’t like it?”
You shot him a look. “No, it’s just weird. You’ve been a prick all week, and now suddenly you’re trying to play nice. What’s your deal?”
He leaned back on his hands, eyes drifting to the horizon. “Maybe I just felt bad,” he said finally. “For these past few days, I mean.”
You snorted, trying to hide the way his sincerity caught you off guard. “So, what? It took you this long to feel bad?”
His gaze slid back to yours, and this time, it lingered. The playful edge in his expression softened, replaced by something quieter, something heavier.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
The words hung between you, stirring up emotions you weren’t prepared to unpack. You wanted to brush it off, to throw a snarky remark his way and shift the mood back to something you could handle, but the look in his eyes kept you rooted in place.
You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but he beat you to it.
“I didn’t mean to treat you like that,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I didn’t mean to change… us.”
Your heart twisted, but you forced a scoff. “You didn’t mean it? Could’ve fooled me.”
Anton didn’t respond right away. He simply stared at you, his eyes tracing your features like he was seeing them for the first time. The ocean breeze carried the faint scent of the summer evening, and the sound of waves crashing filled the spaces his words left behind.
And for a moment, you thought he might close the distance. His shoulders shifted, his posture leaning ever so slightly toward you, his gaze dropping to your lips—so brief you almost thought you imagined it.
But just as quickly, he pulled back. His expression returned to the smirk you were all too familiar with.
“Welp, let’s not get too sentimental,” he said lightly, brushing sand off his hands as he stood up. “You might actually start thinking I’ve changed for the better.”
You blinked, caught somewhere between frustration and something softer, as he offered you a hand to help you up.
“I still haven’t decided if I like this version of you,” you muttered, brushing past him as you started back toward the house.
He chuckled, walking ahead of you and gently bumping your shoulder as he passed you. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
A part of you wondered if the conversation was done for the night. But as you glanced at the back of his head, you couldn’t resist one last question.
“Why did you do it?” you called out.
Anton slowed but didn’t stop, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Do what?”
You caught up, falling into step beside him. “Why’d you kiss me?”
He didn’t react right away, his gaze shifting back to the path ahead. “You’re asking me that now? Have you been thinking about it all week?” he asked with a teasing lilt in his voice.
“I’m serious. Come on,” you said, keeping your tone light but steady. “It’s not because you wanted to, right? I was just getting on your nerves, and there was no other way to shut me up. Right, Anton? Right?”
Your heart thudded in your chest as the silence stretched. Anton finally came to a stop, his hands slipping into his pockets as he turned to face you. The moonlight caught the faint curve of his smirk, but his eyes were unreadable.
“Wrong,” he said simply.
“What?” you blurted, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.
Anton turned and kept walking, leaving you standing there, staring after him as the word echoed in your mind.
The weekend at the beach house passed in a blur. After your conversation with Anton, things between you weren’t awkward anymore, but they weren’t exactly normal either. You talked like usual, bantered like usual, interacted like usual—everything was as usual. Except for when his eyes would focus on you every now and then—the kind of look that seemed to communicate something your mind couldn’t comprehend, but you knew they meant something.
Sometimes, when it was just the two of you—bringing drinks outside or crossing paths in the hallway—you found yourself running through a dozen different scenarios in your head. Ones where the air grew heavy, his hand brushed yours, and somehow, the silence ended in a feverish kiss. You weren’t sure where these thoughts were coming from, but they made you giddy and nervous at the same time, unsure how to handle the growing interest that crept quietly under your skin.
Soon, the day of the volleyball game rolled around, and you headed to the beach with your friends. Sungchan was easy to spot near the net, casually chatting with a group while fiddling with the ropes. When he caught sight of you, his smile stretched wide as he jogged toward you.
“You finally showed up,” he teased, hands on his hips.
You rolled your eyes at his dramatic tone. “I’m literally on time.”
“Late, early—it’s all relative.” He grinned, taking a step back and gesturing to the setup. “So, wanna be on my team? I’m giving you a chance to switch sides before we kick your team’s ass.”
You scoffed. “How generous. But I’ve already pictured your defeat in my head, so, no thank you.”
His laugh was easy, but you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze softened as it lingered on you. That familiar charm of his—it was almost effortless, but you knew what you had to say.
“By the way, I have something to tell you,” you said, glancing past the others before looking back at him.
“Sure,” he nodded, his smile dimming just slightly. “That look is making me nervous, but let’s hear it.”
You took a breath. “You’re a fun guy, you really are. You’re nice too. And to be honest, I had a crush on you since I was like—” you shrugged—“twelve? I think?”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah, and I really enjoyed hanging out with you, but I don’t think I want to be anything other than friends with you.”
For a second, you worried how he’d take it. But Sungchan just stared at you, then let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “I knew you’d break my heart eventually.”
“Sungchan—”
“I’m kidding,” he cut you off, flashing his usual grin. “It’s cool, really. You didn’t drag it out, so thanks for that.”
Relief washed over you. “I just didn’t want to keep you hanging.”
“I know. I really appreciate that,” he replied, his grin turning teasing again. “Gives me more time to get to know other people. Lots of pretty girls in town this summer, you know? They’d be thrilled to know I’m still available.”
You couldn’t help chuckling. “Did you really just say that out loud?”
“Why not?” he said, smirking. “We’re friends. There’s no need to filter my words around friends.”
“Unbelievable,” you muttered, but the laughter that followed between you both was easy and genuine.
The volleyball setup was simple but lively—teams were already strategizing, with Sungchan’s voice ringing out as he rallied his group together. You lingered near the sidelines, soaking in the warm sun and salty breeze, until a familiar figure stepped into your peripheral vision.
Anton.
His hair was a little tousled from the wind, and he had that usual air of nonchalance as he approached. You noticed the faint furrow in his brow as his gaze shifted from Sungchan back to you.
“Are you ready for this?” you asked, keeping your tone casual.
Anton ignored the question entirely. “What were you two talking about?”
“Sungchan?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. “Nothing much. Just clearing the air.”
Anton narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything, his jaw tightening slightly before he turned his attention to the players warming up.
“Didn’t think you’d actually referee,” you teased, eyeing his rashguard and short outfit.
“Someone has to keep things fair,” he replied, his tone dry as his eyes flicked to Sungchan, who was busy high-fiving his teammates.
You raised an eyebrow, catching his not-so-subtle focus. “What’s that look for?”
He shrugged, but his casual tone didn’t match the sharpness in his gaze. “Just wondering why you were all chummy with him.”
“What?” you said, rolling your eyes. “I told you. We were just talking. We’re friends. He’s nice.”
“Too nice, if you ask me,” Anton muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening. “You do remember that he’s older than us, right?”
You tilted your head, amusement tugging at your lips. “Is that jealousy I hear, Anton Lee?”
“Not jealousy,” he shot back quickly. “Concern. You shouldn’t be fraternizing with the enemy.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Enemy? Aren’t referees supposed to be neutral and not pick sides.”
Anton’s lips twitched, but his expression remained guarded. “Not when it comes to him.”
“Sounds personal,” you teased.
Before he could reply, Sungchan’s voice called from across the net. “Hey, MVP! You ready to show us what you’ve got?”
A confident grin spread across your face as you turned to him. “Hope you’re ready to lose,” you shot back, adjusting your stance.
Anton muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “cocky,” but you ignored him, stepping onto the sand with the kind of ease that came from years of practice.
The game started fast, with energy running high as the teams gave their all to the game. You were quick on your feet, diving for saves and landing precise spikes that sent the ball flying past the other team’s defenses more than once.
“Still got it,” you muttered to yourself after a particularly clean shot, wiping sand off your knees.
“Nice!” Hana cheered, and you all huddled for a high-five.
Sungchan whistled, shaking his head as he retrieved the ball. “Alright, I’ll give you that one. But don’t think you’re getting another easy point.”
“Easy?” Hana echoed, smirking playfully. “Your team’s been missing half your serves. Why don’t you concede?”
“Less talking, more playing,” Yejin retorted, clapping her hands loudly.
The banter drew a laugh from the sidelines, where Anton stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Still, you caught the slight twitch of his lips whenever you scored, even if he didn’t say a word.
During a quick break, Sungchan jogged over, tossing you a water bottle. “You’re making me work harder than I thought,” he said, flashing his signature grin.
“Good,” you replied, taking a sip and wiping your brow. “I’m just getting started.”
Sungchan stood there for a few seconds, watching you. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “So, how are things with Anton?”
The water caught in your throat mid-sip, and you barely managed not to spit it out. Coughing, you waved him off as he laughed and patted your back. “What? Why would you even ask me that?”
“Has he told you about it yet?”
“About what?”
Sungchan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Don’t make me spell it out. The guy’s practically wearing a neon sign over his head that says, ‘I’m in love with her.’”
You rolled your eyes, brushing off the warmth creeping up your neck. “You’re so dramatic. He doesn’t—”
“Sure, sure.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But you’ve noticed, haven’t you? The way he gets all broody whenever we talk?”
“Broody?”
“You know, sulky. Jealous,” he grinned, casually draping an arm on your shoulder. “I didn’t think it would be so fun to tease him.”
Without thinking, you glanced over. Anton stood with his arms crossed, stealing glances at you and Sungchan. His face was unreadable, but the tight set of his jaw and the sharpness in his gaze gave him away.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, turning back to Sungchan, though your pulse quickened under Anton’s gaze.
Before he could respond, a sharp whistle broke through the conversation.
“Break’s over,” Anton called, his voice firm as he motioned for everyone to get back into position.
Sungchan glanced at him, then back at you, grinning like he’d just cracked a code. “See? Broody.” He threw you a wink before jogging back to his side of the net.
As the game resumed, you couldn’t help but notice Anton’s slightly biased officiating—whistling a little too loud when Sungchan’s team scored, or muttering under his breath whenever their team celebrated.
By the time the final point was scored—your team taking the win with a flawless spike—you caught Anton watching you again, his expression softening just slightly. But as quickly as it came, it was gone, replaced with his usual cool detachment as he blew the whistle to signal the end of the game.
The sound of cheers and laughter filled the air as your team huddled together, celebrating the win. Sohee slung an arm over your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear.
“Still the MVP, huh?” he teased, ruffling your hair playfully. “I don’t know why I thought this would go any other way.”
“Because you’re overconfident,” Hana chimed in, nudging Yejin with her elbow. “And we’re, you know, actually good at this.”
You smirked. “Don’t beat yourself up, though. You guys put up a good fight.”
“Good fight, my ass,” Sohee grumbled, flopping onto the sand dramatically. “We got obliterated. I’m never playing against you guys again.”
“Come on, Sohee,” you replied, tossing him a grin as you helped him up. “It’s just for fun. You didn’t do that bad.”
“He missed three serves in a row,” Hana deadpanned, earning a loud groan from Sohee.
“Okay, no need to rub it in!” Sohee huffed, dusting the sand off his hands.
Anton approached the group, his whistle still dangling from around his neck. “You all done patting yourselves on the back?” he asked, his tone neutral but his eyes briefly meeting yours.
“What exactly are we winning? Do we get a prize?” Yejin asked, looking around.
Sungchan shrugged. “Bragging rights?” he said with evident uncertainty in his tone and expression.
Your team groaned, unsatisfied. Sungchan stammered. “Hey, we didn’t decide on a prize when we talked about this game.”
Sohee raised a hand. “Okay, guys, since I’m basically responsible for our loss, ice cream’s on me for the winners. Losers can fend for themselves.”
“Wow, so generous,” Sungchan deadpanned, but he followed anyway, dragging his team along.
“It’s okay, dude,” Yejin said, clapping him on the back. “You’re rewarded enough. It’s not every day you get to play with an MVP.”
“You mean lose to an MVP,” Sungchan corrected, nodding toward you. “You’re a beast out there, seriously. Respect.”
“Respectfully defeated, you mean?” Hana teased, crossing her arms.
Sungchan shrugged, unfazed. “I’m not bitter. I’d rather lose to a skilled player than Sohee.”
“Okay, man. Low blow,” Sohee sighed, shoulders sagging in defeat.
Sungchan flashed you a knowing grin before his gaze flickered toward Anton. “Guess you’re proud of her too, huh, ref?”
Anton’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, but he only shrugged. “She’s decent.”
“Decent?” you echoed, narrowing your eyes at him. “Pretty sure I just carried my team to victory.”
“I’d rather not inflate your ego,” he retorted, smirking.
As the group headed toward the snack stand, you lingered for a moment, brushing sand off your legs. Anton hung back too, his gaze lingering on the horizon before he glanced at you.
“Decent, huh?” you said, crossing your arms as you turned to him.
His lips twitched. “You heard me.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You could just admit you’re impressed.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he replied, turning toward the snack stand without waiting for a response.
Shaking your head, you followed, the playful energy from the game lingering in the air.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the group gathered around a bonfire on the beach. Drinks were passed around, the conversation flowing easily. More people arrived as the evening deepened, including some of Anton’s posh friends. They blended effortlessly into the group, their polished smiles and designer outfits standing out against the casual beachwear.
At some point, Sohee handed Anton a guitar with a knowing smirk. “Would you play something for us?”
Anton chuckled, adjusting the strap before strumming a few chords. The group around the fire cheered, and soon everyone was singing along, their voices blending beautifully with the melody Anton was playing.
You leaned back against the driftwood bench, watching him as his fingers glided over the strings with ease. There was something captivating about how relaxed he seemed—more confident, more self-assured. The shy boy you’d grown up with had always seemed happiest when he was off to the side, letting others take the spotlight. Now, he was in the center of it, getting attention without even trying.
In hindsight, this should’ve made you happy. Seeing him like this—more mature, more comfortable in his own skin—should’ve felt like a victory for the both of you. But you didn’t have time to process this because the joy of his transformation had been buried under your indignation, your frustration at being treated like a stranger.
You sighed and turned your gaze to the fire, trying to push the thoughts away.
Later, as the party stretched into the night, Sungchan plopped down beside you with a drink in hand.
“Long face at a party?” he teased, nudging your arm lightly.
You smiled faintly. “Just thinking about stuff.”
“Stuff like Anton?” he asked, raising a brow.
You gave him a side-eye, but his grin was disarming enough that you found yourself nodding. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” he echoed, leaning closer like he was fishing for details. “Come on, you can tell me. I’m great at giving unsolicited advice.”
That earned a laugh out of you. “Why are you nosy?”
He shrugged. “This is the most interesting thing that happened here since summer break started. I’m a little too invested.”
“Fine,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “Get ready.”
And so, you told him everything—how you and Anton had grown up together, spending every summer side by side, how he used to be this sweet, shy boy you adored. You told him about your silly teenage crush on him, how you’d skipped the last two summers, and how things were so different now that you were back. Sungchan listened intently, nodding along as you spoke.
“And then he kissed me,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “And now I’m… I don’t know. I can’t tell if I’m falling for him again or if I’m just confusing old feelings for something they’re not.”
Sungchan leaned back, letting out a low whistle. “That’s a lot to unpack,” he said, then smirked. “But hey, you’ve got options. If it’s real, great. If it’s not, at least you’ll know. Either way, you win.”
You rolled your eyes. “That’s not exactly helpful.”
“Look, all I’m saying is, maybe stop overthinking it. You’ll figure it out,” he replied. “But if you’re asking me? I think you’re not confusing old feelings. It’s just that the old feelings are stronger now that you’re older and wiser. Well, not so wise, but still wiser than when you were sixteen.”
Your laugh came out startled. “What makes you think so?”
“Just a hunch,” he said, winking.
Before you could respond, a shadow fell over the both of you. You looked up to see Anton standing there, his expression unreadable as he glanced between you and Sungchan.
“Time to go,” Anton said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You frowned, leaning back against the bench. “It’s still early.”
Anton huffed, unfazed. “I’d hate to ruin your night, but I’m tired, so let’s just go.”
You groaned, glancing at Sungchan, who gave you an exaggerated pout. “Guess this is goodbye,” he said dramatically.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” you retorted, but you smiled as you stood. “Thanks for listening.”
He gave you a two-fingered salute as you turned to follow Anton.
As you walked up the beach, the sounds of the party fading behind you, you glanced at Anton. “Can’t you go home by yourself?”
“You think I’m dragging you along because I want to?” he asked back, glancing sideways at you. “Take it up to your two moms if you have a problem with it.”
You huffed. “I probably should. One can’t go home without the other? What are we, fifteen?”
Anton didn’t respond, but you caught the faintest smirk tugging at his lips as he walked ahead.
The car ride was too quiet for your liking. Anton kept his grip tight on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched, and you couldn’t ignore the hint of annoyance on his expression.
You’d been stealing glances over at him, but he didn’t meet your eyes. The way he was acting—the sudden coldness after the bonfire, the way he pulled away emotionally—it was all too confusing and infuriating.
“Anton, you’re angry,” you said, your voice low but steady. “What’s going on? Another mood swing?”
He finally looked at you, his eyes dark, the frustration in them almost raw. “Can you mind your own business?”
“I can if you stop making me feel like this was my business too.”
Anton let out a sharp exhale, and with a swift turn of the steering wheel, he pulled over to the side of the road, stepping on the brakes so abruptly, you were jolted forward, the seatbelt digging into your chest.
“What the hell—”
“What do you want me to say?” he cut you off, his voice rough.
“What do I want you to say?” you echoed, heart pounding as anger rose in your chest. “Are you serious? You’ve been treating me like a stranger since I got here. You’ve barely talked to me, and when you do, it’s like I’m the last person you want to be around. What do I want you to say?”
You scoffed incredulously. “I want you to tell me what I did so wrong to deserve this.”
Anton’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his jaw clenching so hard it was a wonder it didn’t crack. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, quieter, but no less intense. “I missed you. So fucking much.”
For a second, his words knocked the wind out of you. But the anger came rushing back. “That doesn’t make any fucking sense. You missed me, so you’re treating me like crap? What the hell, Anton?”
“I don’t know!” he snapped, his voice breaking slightly. He groaned, leaning back in his seat and pressing his hands to his face. “I don’t know, alright? I just—I couldn’t reach you. I couldn’t talk to you. You were supposed to be here, and you weren’t. And now you’re back, and I’m—” He broke off, dragging his hands through his hair in frustration.
You blinked, caught off-guard by the vulnerability in his voice. You opened your mouth to speak, but you didn’t know what to say so you closed it again. At that moment, it was as if the only thing you could do was reach out your hand and place it on his arm, squeezing gently in hopes that it would somehow comfort him, that it would be enough to express what your words cannot.
His head turned toward you, and the look in his eyes made your breath hitch. His gaze flicked to your lips, and before you could process what was happening, his hand was on your arm, pulling you toward him. Then his lips crashed against yours, desperate and unrestrained, like he couldn’t stop himself anymore.
And you couldn’t pull away—not that you wanted to. Everything you had been holding back, everything you’d been pretending not to feel, was suddenly pouring out in that kiss.
He tugged you closer, his other hand sliding to your waist as the kiss deepened, raw and messy, with a kind of desperation that matched your own. You could feel his heavy breathing against your lips as his body tensed beneath you, and it only made you want to close the distance even more. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clutching a handful of his hair because you needed to hold on to something—anything—that was real.
Anton’s hands moved to your neck, his touch possessive, as if he was trying to assure himself that you were here, that you weren’t going anywhere. You pulled away for a breath, your chest rising and falling quickly as you stared at each other, both of you trying to catch your breath.
“Anton…” you whispered, your voice trembling.
He pressed his forehead to yours, his voice hoarse. “Don’t say it. Just—don’t say anything right now.” He kissed you again, one hand slipping under your shirt but you stopped him.
“No.” You pushed him away gently, your lips curving into a small smile. “Not here. Come on, dude. Not in the car. Let’s at least make this special.”
He leaned back, a short, dark laugh escaping him. “I just kissed you till you’re breathless, and you call me dude after?”
You laughed lightly, still breathless yourself. “Are you seriously gonna hold that against me instead of focusing on more pressing matters?” You glanced at the unmistakable bulge in his jeans.
Anton grunted, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifted the gear stick, suddenly looking more determined than ever as he stepped on the gas.
You couldn’t help grinning at the look on his face. You reached for his chin, pulling him close just enough to press a soft kiss on his cheek. As you sat back, Anton’s fingers brushed against yours, holding your hand with a light squeeze as the car sped down the highway.
The house was quiet when you and Anton arrived. It was past 1am, and the soft hum of the house was the only sound that filled the air as you both tiptoed down the dimly lit hallway. Your footsteps were almost inaudible on the hardwood floor, but your heart raced in your chest. When you passed by his parents’ room, you both paused for a moment, checking for any signs of movement, worried that someone might wake up and catch you sneaking.
When you reached the upper floor landing, Anton grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to him. His lips brushed the side of your neck as you walked down the hall. The thrill of the risk only heightened your need for each other, and you couldn’t keep the smile from tugging at your lips as his hand slid to the small of your back, pressing you against him for a second.
“You’re gonna get us caught,” you whispered, though the mischief in your voice gave away the fact that you were enjoying this too.
He groaned impatiently. “Why is your bedroom so far away?”
“It’s not, you’re just dramatic,” you chided softly, pressing a soft kiss on his lips and slipping away when he moved to cage you in his arms.
The need for each other was overwhelming, but you couldn’t risk waking anyone up, couldn’t let anyone see this side of you two yet.
When you finally reached your bedroom door, you turned to face Anton, curling your fingers in his shirt. “Don’t you dare go in there without me,” you said, pulling him toward you for another kiss, the same fervent kiss he’d been giving you all night.
As you both stumbled into the room, the door clicking shut behind you, everything else disappeared—the house, the people, the secrets. The room was quiet except for the sound of your uneven breaths. He was so close, his familiar face somehow different now, his eyes tracing yours like he was seeing you for the first time.
“This is insane,” you whispered, a shaky laugh slipping out as you broke eye contact. “Are we really gonna do this?”
“Oh, it’s totally up to you,” he said softly, his voice dipping lower as he tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. “But right now, I can’t stop thinking about you… like this,” he added, his fingers brushing on the sleeves of your shirt, tugging it off slowly.
You let him undress you as your stomach fluttered at his confession. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned forward, your lips meeting his. It started soft, tentative, like you were afraid to push too far. But then his hand found the back of your neck, pulling you in, and suddenly it wasn’t soft anymore.
The kiss deepened, years of restraint unraveling all at once. He laid you back against the bed, his weight hovering over you. As his lips trailed down your neck with slow and careful kisses, your mind began to spiral with a sensation that was both new and unfamiliar.
When he got rid of your bra and revealed your bosoms before his eyes, he had to take a moment and look at you—really look at you, with a face of disbelief and amazement. That gaze made you shy, but you tried not to show it, hoping he liked what he was seeing.
“This feels… a bit different,” he murmured, meeting your gaze. His voice trembled slightly, and it struck you that he was just as nervous as you were.
“Because it is,” you whispered back, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “But it’s still us.”
That seemed to settle something in him. He leaned down to kiss you again, only for a short while before abandoning your lips and moving to your neck. He licked and nipped at your skin, leaving a slight sting that sent shivers down your spine—a delightful balance of pain and pleasure. His lips trailed down to your collarbone, the center of your chest, and the soft hollow beneath your breast before moving to suck on your nipple.
The sudden jolt of pleasure made you arch your back, stifling a gasp that almost tore out of your lungs. Anton continued, eyes locked with yours, studying every expression you were making.
His hands grew bolder, fingertips traveling to your belly, down to your sex with curiosity and reverence. His motions were gentle at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But with each soft gasp or subtle shift of your body, his confidence grew. When his thumb brushed a spot that made you shiver, he paused, repeating the motion with a soft hum, like he’d just unlocked a secret meant only for him.
He already knew you so well—the way your eyes lit up when you were excited, the way your laugh sounded when you tried to muffle it, and the things that made you fold into yourself when you were upset. But this—this part of you—was new, uncharted territory neither of you had thought you’d ever explore.
“Didn’t know you could make that face,” he teased, tickling your ear.
A quiet laugh slipped out of you when his hand fumbled at an awkward angle. “You lost it,” you giggled and he let out a soft chuckle in return.
“Sorry. Where did it go?” he asked, grinning toothily. “Guess I’m not as smooth as I thought.”
You shook your head, still grinning, and cupped his jaw in your hand. “You’re doing fine.”
The laughter didn’t last long. It faded into urgency when you reached between his legs where his manhood was trapped in his tight jeans. Anton let out a pained grunt when your hand brushed it, murmuring “Fuck,” before backing away from you and stripping out of his clothes in a matter of seconds.
He dived back to your lips, crashing with intense fervor while his hand spread your legs wider. He held you tight as he positioned himself, shushing you gently as he slowly fitted himself inside. Every fiber in your body stood in attention, anticipating the delightful pain to shoot through you. And when it came, it was infinitely better than what you imagined.
Instinct took over as you clung to him, your pulse racing as he began to move at a languid pace, familiarizing before going at a steadier pace. The sheets twisted under your fingers, the soft rasp of his name escaping your lips as he pressed harder.
Every thrust ignited something inside you, every whispered murmur of your name leaving you more breathless than the last. You could no longer keep track of what was happening, too far gone to think clearly, but conscious enough to know you wanted more—more of him, more of this pleasure that was driving you insane in the best way possible.
After who knows how long, a throaty moan ripped out of you, your back arching as you let the high engulf you in waves. Anton kept his thrusts steady, riding through your high until your knees shook with too much stimulation. Then you fell back on the bed, limbs weak and your energy depleted.
When it was over, you lay tangled together, your pulse still racing as he held you in his arms. In the atmosphere was a quiet kind of understanding that didn’t need words. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, slowly pulling you out of the haze of desire.
You shifted slightly, looking up to find him already watching you. He was smiling, a little shy but undeniably happy. His hand slid up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face before letting his fingers linger on your jaw.
“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, taking a deep breath as you smiled. “Yeah. We’re okay.”
The next morning, you woke up with Anton’s arm still wrapped around you, his warmth enveloping you nicely. The sunlight poured into the room and for a moment, it felt like nothing else in the world mattered. Your body was still tingling from the night before, but you were content and happy.
Anton stirred beside you, his arm tightening instinctively around your waist. He buried his face in your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“You awake?” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly along your jaw.
You smiled faintly, glancing up at him. “Yeah. We need to talk.”
He nodded, exhaling deeply as he stretched, the movement shifting you slightly before he pulled you close again. “Figured you’d say that,” he said, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. But then his expression softened. “I know I’ve got a lot to answer for.”
The night had brought you closer, but it had also left things unanswered, things that neither of you could avoid any longer.
You stayed quiet, letting him speak.
“I was an idiot,” he began, his tone quieter now. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away when you came back. I just... I didn’t know how to handle it.”
You blinked at him, watching his face and saw the faint flicker of guilt and uncertainty in his eyes. This was a side of Anton you hadn’t seen in a while—the one who let his guard down, even if only for a moment.
“I thought I’d lost you for good,” he continued, his voice steady but low. “You didn’t come for two summers. No calls, no texts—it felt like you disappeared, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”
You frowned. “No one told you I was away for uni?” you asked sarcastically.
He huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I knew. But…” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. We didn’t talk much in the last two years. Different time zones, schedules, and all. You were out there, living your life. I see your posts online. You were killing it in school, making new friends, living your life. Hell, you even had a boyfriend at one point.” He chuckled bitterly, the sound more self-deprecating than amused. Then he continued. “I guess I got insecure and thought you were content living a life without me in it.”
“Come on. That’s not true,” you defended, scowling.
“I know,” he said quickly, cutting you off. “I know that now. But back then, it just... I don’t know how else to say it—it messed me up. Like I said, I was insecure.”
“So I decided to live my life too, and it was good. I learned lots of new things, met lots of people, and discovered interests in fields I didn’t know I had interest in. It was great.” He paused, swallowing hard, then muttered, “Then mom said you were coming for summer this year and suddenly, I was thinking about you again. I realized that I wasn’t mad because I felt abandoned and forgotten. I was just… in love with you.”
You gasped softly, pulse racing at his confession. Anton smiled at you as he continued. “I didn’t know how to deal with that and I knew you’d leave eventually, so I thought if I acted like you were a stranger, it’d hurt less when you’re gone. Obviously it didn’t. It just made everything worse.”
You could feel the sincerity of his words, the honesty finally breaking through the wall he’d built.
“You didn’t have to go through all that,” you said gently, your hand cupping his cheek. “I never forgot about you, Anton. I could never, even if I try. You and me, we’re like, stuck with each other.”
A faint smile broke through his solemn expression. “You make it sound like a punishment.”
You chuckled softly, your fingers brushing through his hair. “I mean, for me, it kind of is.”
His eyes widened slightly, surprised. “For real?”
“No,” you replied quickly, grinning and wrapping your arm tighter around him.
Anton chuckled. “You’re annoying.”
“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, your voice gentle and light.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet between you filled with the soft hum of the morning. Then Anton sighed. “I don’t want to screw this up,” he said. “Not with you. Not again.”
“You won’t,” you promised, your head resting against his chest as his arms wrapped around you. “I’ll kill you if you do.”
Anton’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I’ll do my best. I love living my life, you see.”
You nodded, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. There was no need for more words right now. You were finally on the same page, and for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.
No one knew, and that was the beauty of it.
To the outside world, nothing had changed. You and Anton had always been close, always spent summers attached at the hip, so when you were together—laughing over shared inside jokes or disappearing for hours at a time—it wasn’t out of the ordinary. No one thought to question it. But for the two of you, everything was different.
You snuck out late at night, barefoot and giddy, to watch the stars from the beach. Anton would bring a blanket and a bottle of his dad’s wine he swiped from the kitchen, and the two of you would lie there for hours, trading stories and stolen kisses. Sometimes, you’d just sit in comfortable silence, your fingers intertwined, his lips occasionally pressing against your temple.
In the mornings, you’d meet for coffee at the little café down the street, pretending it was a casual thing when your families asked. But as soon as you were alone, Anton would squeeze himself beside you, smiling as he held your hand in his.
“Think they’re catching on?” he’d tease, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
“No idea,” you’d reply, grinning. “We’d probably get married and they’d think it’s just us being silly.”
Anton gasped, covering his mouth. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
You rolled your eyes, feigning exasperation. “Oh my god. Can you go back to being nonchalant? I don’t miss your old dramatic self.”
“Aw,” he said cutely, leaning his head on your shoulder. “Come on, baby. You don’t mean that.”
You revisited the places you’d loved as kids, seeing them through new eyes. The old treehouse near the playground became your hideout, where you’d sit together, legs tangled as you reminisced about summers past.
“You used to boss me around so much here,” Anton would say, laughing when you nudged him. “Still do, actually.”
“You love it,” you’d shoot back, and he’d smirk before kissing you, his hand slipping beneath your shirt in a way that made you forget whatever you were about to say next.
There were days when you explored each other in ways that left you breathless—your skin tingling, your heart racing. Anton was patient and attentive, his touch both gentle and electrifying. He’d study you like he was learning a language, his lips tracing paths across your body as if trying to commit every inch of you to memory. You discovered parts of him, too—little things he liked, the way he shivered when you kissed just below his jaw, the way he whispered your name like a prayer whenever you gave him the ride of his life.
You got to know him in ways you never had before, and it made you fall harder. Behind his teasing and occasional grumpiness, there was a gentle boy, a vulnerability that he only ever let you see. And you held it close, cherishing every piece of him.
Together, you built a world of your own—one filled with secret smiles, lingering touches, and endless laughter. No one else was privy to it, and you liked it that way. The privacy made it feel more sacred, more yours.
You were looking for some cards in the drawers in Anton’s room when you spotted something familiar. Pulling it out, you found an old photo tucked between the pages of a dusty book. It was from one of those endless summers, taken when you and Anton were maybe sixteen. The two of you were sitting side by side on the wooden dock, feet dipped into the water. His grin was wide, his arm slung lazily over your shoulders, and your expression was somewhere between laughing and rolling your eyes.
“Hey, Anton,” you called out, walking into the living room where he was sprawled out on the couch. He glanced up lazily, but his eyes immediately sharpened when he saw what you were holding.
“Where’d you find that?” he asked, reaching for it.
“In your room. You didn’t think I’d find it tucked safely in your old guitar book?” you teased, holding the photo out of his reach.
He shook his head, smiling faintly. “Man, I looked so good back then.”
You snorted, flopping down beside him. “You’re ridiculous. You look the same, just taller and with more expensive haircuts.”
He raised a brow at you. “And you?”
You grinned. “I peaked at sixteen. Obviously.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “You were annoying at sixteen.”
“Funny you say that,” you said, leaning back into the couch, the photo still clutched in your hand. “Because I had a crush on you back then.”
The confession rolled off your tongue casually, but the way Anton’s head snapped toward you was anything but casual.
“You what?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
You shrugged nonchalantly. “No big deal. It didn’t even last long.”
Anton stared at you for a second, his expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, he crossed his arms and pouted, sulking like a child.
“That’s unfair,” he muttered.
You blinked, caught off guard. “What’s unfair?”
“That you stopped liking me,” he said, scowling. “Because I was in love with you around that time.”
Your mouth fell open. “No, you’re not.”
He grumbled something under his breath and refused to meet your eyes, but the tips of his ears were red.
“No, you’re not,” you repeated, half-laughing, half-shocked. You grabbed his arm and shook him playfully. “Come on, be serious. You’re lying, aren’t you?”
Anton just tutted and gave you a side-eye. Her mom walked in at that moment, struggling to hook her necklace.
“Sweetheart, come help me with this,” she asked, handing the jewelry to you. You quickly rose to help her. As you did, she narrowed her eyes at Anton and said, “Now, what’s going on? Are you guys fighting again?”
“Anton’s a liar,” you teased, glancing briefly at him. “He said he had a crush on me when we were sixteen.”
“Really?” Aunt Hyejin asked, tilting her head a little. She looked at you just as you finished locking her necklace. “You’re only finding out about it now?”
“Mom!” Anton interjected, standing up and dragging Aunt Hyejin away.
“What? I thought she knew the whole time,” Aunt Hyejin said, laughing as they disappeared into a corner.
You stood there dumbfounded and confused, though your heart was fluttering so much it made your cheeks burn.
Later that evening, you found yourself standing in front of a mirror. “Can you believe it?” you scoffed, turning toward Anton, who was buttoning up his shirt. “Me, going to Belle’s cocktail party?”
Anton, leaning against the doorframe as he adjusted his cufflinks. “If you hate it that much, we can just ditch.”
You rolled your eyes, smoothing out your skirt. “No. I’d love to see how you ended up being friends with those stuck-ups.” You paused, catching Anton’s gaze in the mirror. “Sorry, I forgot they’re your friends now.”
He smirked, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Well, they’re still stuck-ups. But they’re chill when you get to know them.”
You snorted. “We’ll see about that.”
Surprisingly, you did see. The cocktail party was better than you’d expected. The rich kids, despite their reputation, were easygoing and friendly once you got past their posh exteriors. Anton, fit right in as a rich kid himself, but his attention was never far from you.
At some point, someone mentioned Anton’s ‘first love’, and your ears perked up.
“He told us about her once, when he was drunk,” Belle said with a grin, sipping her drink. “ We’ve never seen Anton act and speak so cutely.”
You raised a brow, curious but playing it cool. “Really?”
Belle nodded, leaning in conspiratorially. “Yeah. Apparently, she used to tease him so much he wanted to strangle her half the time, but he also couldn’t imagine life without her.”
One guy added, “He even said she had this little laugh, you know, like a giggle that always got him. Man was a goner.”
“Yeah. He said she was his everything, but he was too scared to tell her. Isn’t that cute?”
Your heart skipped a beat as Anton avoided your gaze, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
Later, as you walked down the beach with Anton, your high heels dangling from one hand and your other hand holding onto his arm, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The waves lapped at your feet, cool and soothing, as you glanced up at him.
“So,” you began, grinning, “I’m your everything, huh?”
Anton groaned, closing his eyes. “Don’t start.”
You laughed, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his jaw. “You’re so cute.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, but his hand tightened around yours.
You leaned against his chest, enjoying his warmth in the cool summer night.
“You were right,” you admitted, glancing up at him. “Your new friends aren’t so bad.”
“Told you,” he said smugly.
You rolled your eyes. “Don’t get cocky. I still think it’s hilarious you used to hate them and now you’re all buddy-buddy.”
Anton gave you a dry look. “Of course you do. I sometimes can’t believe it myself.”
You grinned mischievously. “Anton Lee, a social butterfly. Who would’ve thought?”
He chuckled softly. “Not me.”
The moonlight reflected off the water as you walked in comfortable silence, stealing kisses here and there. Your fingers were laced together, his thumb occasionally brushing against yours.
You glanced at him, the soft glow of the moonlight highlighting his features. It was hard to believe that this was the same boy you’d grown up with, the one who used to argue with you over who got the last piece of pizza or who could jump farther off the dock.
Being with him now, like this, felt surreal. But it also felt right.
“I still think you’re a loser, though,” you teased. Anton narrowed his eyes, and you saw the flicker of mischief in them a second too late.
“Take it back,” he said, his tone warning.
“Or what?” you taunted, stepping backward, a playful grin on your face.
He didn’t reply, already kicking off his shoes and rolling up his pants.
You shrieked, spinning around to run, the cool sand shifting under your bare feet. Anton’s laugh echoed behind you as he chased you down, his longer strides closing the distance easily.
“No!” you squealed, laughing so hard you could barely keep running.
It wasn’t long before he caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he lifted you off the ground. He spun you around, your laughter and shrieks echoing in the air.
Romantic relationships between childhood friends weren’t without their risks. You knew that. There was always the fear of ruining what had been there for so long, of losing not just a lover but a best friend. But as you glanced down at your intertwined hands, you realized you weren’t afraid.
Because no matter where life took you, as long as you were with Anton, you’d figure it out together.
[fin]
#riize smut#riize x reader#anton lee x reader#anton lee#anton x you#anton lee imagines#anton x reader#anton blast#riize x you#riize fanfic#riize imagines#anton lee ff#anton lee smut#lee chanyoung x reader#lee chanyoung imagines#lee chanyoung riize
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number one girl
pairing: max verstappen x reader
summary: the story of ynmax is a very, very heated topic riddled with holes and chock full of conspiracies: a couple and split to rival brocedes. it's mostly an a f1 thing, though, until you release an album and the internet tries to deduce what ruined a decades-long friendship.
a/n: angst warning. bear with me, you're in for a long ride. we go from twitter to insta to reddit to sdfsd. this was SO FUN!
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liked by stevienicks, georgerussell63 and 3,104,827 others
yourinstagram: "number one girl" out now.
view all 411,295 comments
user1: mother??? music???
user2: our multitalented baby <3
stevienicks: so proud of you ❤️
yourinstagram: so thankful for you 🥺 your support is immeasurable in worth
user3: max verstappen did you-
user4: george listening to this so he can justify bullying max next season
user5: please 💀 i choked on my water reading that
user6: CHARLES IN THE CREDITS FOR PIANO?? how many side quests has this girl roped people into
user7: they're still good friends lol just cause she and max stopped speaking doesn't mean she's not close w the rest of the grid user8: @/user7 right! she and alex have also posted each other quite a bit after the rhode collab
user9: is no one talking about the lyrics 😃 gut wrenching, yes, but the way it all lines up w max??
user10: no babe dw we're all talking about the lyrics user11: my roman empire...
user12: who's this max guy and what does he have to do with my queen y/n
user13: @/user12 he's a formula one driver, they ued to be best friends user12: @/user13 like nascar? omg what i only knew that she debuted in shadow n bone but WHAT IS THIS
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A PAGE FROM Y/N's JOURNAL November 15, 2021
Max is a plane right now to see Kelly. I feel like I've been punched, three times over. The nausea is getting to me.
How could you? Just say all those things, like you always do. Do you mean any of them? When you say "I love you, more than anyone in this life." When you say "You're worth it, really. "When you say "forever." Does anyone ever really mean forever? Forever is part of the foreseeable future. You cannot capture what is beyond that.
You were my life. The words, every moment. An inescapable reminder.
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liked by charles_leclerc, brunomars and 2,819,305 others
yourinstagram: "toxic till the end (ft. lewis hamilton)" is up on youtube and all music platforms ♡
view all 309,418 comments
user1: what. the. fuck.
user2: is she dating lewis? what? y/n girl please stop being cryptic my head can't take all of this 😭
user3: if this is part of the press tour i must say i am now extremely invested in the ynmax drama and i didn't even know who max was until i saw a thread on number one girl...
lewishamilton: Best of luck with your future endeavors, Y/N 🫂 Will be by your side!
yourinstagram: you better be 🫰 user4: the friendship we didn't know we needed
user5: lewis with...pink hair...
user6: max emilian verstappen fumbled so hard
user7: imagine ghosting THE y/n l/n and then she drops this
user8: well, 4 years later but yeah user9: what even is a wdc...
user10: what does the heart mean y/n
user11: bro
user12: so i guess the harry styles dating rumors were all fake 😔 but omg lewis music!!
kellypiquet: Face and voice of an angel 😽
yourinstagram: me? please, pregnancy glow has been treating you good 💕 user13: at least they don't have any hard feelings...
user14: bruno in the likes is the most random thing ever
user15: acting career, check. singing career, check. formula one side quests??? multple checks
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liked by kellypiquet and 4,103,697 others
lewishamilton: Behind the scenes of Miss Y/N's "toxic till the end" music video
tagged: yourinstagram
yourinstagram: looking good there, lew
lewishamilton: Very kind of you to say user1: trust me we are witnessing the start of a great romance
user2: i don't want to delulu too hard but PLEASE tell me y/n's moved on with lewis it would be the ultimate baddie move
user3: imagine...you won abu dhabi but you lost the love of your life to the guy you beat 🤪 user4: we're all insane but i'm just going to keep dreaming
charles_leclerc: Why am I not in your dump?
yourinstagram: face card wasn't lethal enough user5: she's brutal 💀 user6: our charles's facecard could start wars idk what she's on
user7: daddy please give me ONE chance
user8: give me some of that maranello?? he looks so good oml
user9: focusing on music videos and not racing...no wonder he's washed
user10: @/user9 can you stfu and touch grass user11: @/user9 literally no one asked
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AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX November 2021
Dear Hey, Y/N.
I realized you blocked me. It hurts. I don't know what to say or what to believe anymore. I miss us. Overstepping was the wrong choice, if you must, but going back is not impossible.
We've been friends for so long. Why can't you won't you try?
I miss you.
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r/Fauxmoi · 1 day ago hamilton7xc
Max Verstappen and Y/N L/N's infamous split explained?
feralonsos: So she's been pretending he led her on when she lead him on
parking23: I don't know anymore. I know nothing. Don't even talk to me.
forzamcqueen: I want to say it's not about YNMax but 21 (as in 21, when they split?) and Y/N has been coming out with music recently. When you look at the "number one girl" lyrics from Boy's perspective it lines up with this submission. That Max wanted reassurance from Y/N and she gave it to him, but she couldn't give him everything he needed.
↳ roses_berg: @/forzamcqueen I don't know...it seems kind of unlikely. Y/N has a lyric about "chasing the prize" or something like that. What prize would she be chasing? On the other hand, you have Max who has clearly said racing is his passion and he loves winning.
↳ forzamcqueen: @/roses_berg I see where you're coming from but there are a few interpretations. Toxic Till the End suggests she thought his attachment to her was maybe unhealthy, and he kept trying to find ways to keep her by his side. Y/N has mentioned in past interviews (promo for her role in Shadow and Bone, when she was starting to do acting) that she's had bad experience with past relationships and is hesitant on starting a new one.
↳ januaryblues11: @/forzamcqueen Sorry, what interview? Could you link it?
↳ forzamcqueen: @/januaryblues11 No worries, I put it down below. The part I'm referring to is around 5:41.
↳ WolffHornerFan: @/forzamcqueen Okay, okay. I need a timeline then. She must've started filming Shadow and Bone in Oct 2019, then wrapped 4 months later in Feb 2020. This might be the "prize" she's chasing? Her own career. Before it was announced that she was in the series most news referred to her as "close friend" or "best friend" of Max Verstappen. Now a lot of people know her for S&B or Top Gun Maverick, etc.
↳ CautiousOwl: Might've not wanted her relationship to overshadow her career. It's understandable, if she wanted to be taken seriously instead of a "nepo friend."
↳ 4norrisop: She's amazing in Shadow and Bone! Definitely recommend checking that out, but I don't understand why she ghosted him.
↳ ynluv07: @/4norrisop he was dating kelly at the time. she might've thought it was a bad idea after it happened (i'm referring to the kiss, which i assume happened because she explicitly refers to it a few times in "number one girl") and distanced herself. maybe she told him it wasn't okay?
↳ ICEMAN_bwoah: Brain hurts.
↳ brooksies: Well if she did give up her happiness because she thought Kelly deserved better, that's great. No wonder they're still on good terms.
↳ DauntingParrot91: @/brooksies Yeah, sure...
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AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX January 2022
Y/N, I'm sorry I asked for too much; I'm sorry I pushed you. I'll take my bags and go quietly, this time. Maybe you'll open the door again someday. I love you too, my best friend always.
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liked by lewishamilton, taylorswift and 4,103,269 others
yourinstagram: Burnout.
comments on this post have been limited
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AN UNSENT LETTER FROM Y/N February 2022
Wish you'd take a little longer to pack up your bags. You're moving too fast. Make me want to hate you more than I hate myself, so I don't have to miss you. Make a mistake, please. So I have someone to blame.
Please, won't you stay a little longer? I would call you babe, just to make you smile. I wouldn't mean it that way, but I still love you. You're my best friend. Why wasn't that enough?
I'll be okay, sometime. You say it's written all over my face, and I wonder, what is? I'm fragile, now. I'm speechless, now. Don't leave me in pieces. I'm sorry, let me fix it. It won't be good for us, but oh-how I want to.
I'm already having trouble breathing. Please, stay a little longer. I can't stand these four walls without you inside them.
Come back, be here.
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liked by kellypiquet and 1,249,805 others
maxverstappen: She stayed a little longer 🖤
tagged: kellypiquet
view all 91,432 comments
user1: GUYS HE DEF HEARD THE SONG
user2: do we think kelly asked him to post it
user3: tbf given on how sweet her n yns interactions are i wouldn't be surprised if she listened to burnout
user4: kelly. you are the strongest woman i know
user5: so i can convince you the minute i kiss you speak a little softer so i don't have to answer and make it okay before you can say
user6: i just know he had a little breakdown inside after he heard the album
user7: max rn: CHARLES HOW COULD YOU PLAY PIANO FOR HER
user8: max: alexa play that should be me user9: ho-olding your handdd
user10: who are we blaming today
user11: at least max is finally someone's number one girl
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AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX Summer 2024
Sometimes I look to the television and you're on, flying a plane or wielding magic, whatever it is you do these days. I knew you could act. I knew you'd make it far. I hear you were nominated for a Golden Globe, too.
I was mad for a long time. I was upset you kicked me out of your life so abruptly.
Kelly's expecting. I think she will be as good a mother to our child as she is to little P. A family is what I have always wanted, you know. It was not what you wanted.
I am sorry. I have said that many times, but one day I will need to say it to your face. I am truly, irrevocably sorry for all the hurt I caused you, in the name of love.
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r/PopCultureChat · 1 day ago forzamcqueen
"Burnout" by Y/N L/N
How do we feel about the release of the full album? Moreover, how do we think it fits into the YNMax narrative? I, for one, have been listening non-stop trying to figure out the story.
lec_clerc16: I think it's funny how many people have gotten into F1 because of her music. Lol.
↳ NaturalOtter5: Well Lewis & Charles were on it so I would say the F1 community is pretty interested in the tea aswell.
↳ lec_clerc16: @/NaturalOtter5 Right, but YNMax is old drama. Sure, someone's posting in r/F1 every other week about an old photo or new quote. It's still been around for a while. This is fresh meat 😋
jennyowens1342: such a player...LOL who is gameboy about atp
↳ sassybanana: TBF Y/N's dating life has been a lot more quiet than Max's. There have been rumors but she hasn't hard launched anything. Maybe the one public "relationship" was enough for her.
museapollo: the more i listen the more convinced i am that y/n did not want the relationship as max did and decided it was best for them to stop being friends. the whole album is about a codependent relationship and the two people can't deal with leaving but they know it's better for both.
↳ janitorsclosetmonster: yess!! that's what i've been saying. we can't blame y/n for everything, it must've been confusing for her as well. having to navigate everything. idt she'd dated anyone at that point. max was her only close friend.
↳ EggplantParmesan713: But did max cheat...that's the real question. When did THE kiss happen? And who started it?
↳ museapollo: @/EggplantParmesan713 idk. i can't figure if she actually loved him (romantically) bcs it's clear he did but her side is a bit more hazy. you have: 1. "i just WANT it to be you" - it's not actually him she loves but she desperately wants it to be him 2. "cause even when i said it was over / you heard baby can you pull me in closer" - she's telling him it won't work out but he's not listening. 3. "please, won't you stay, stay a little a little longer, babe?" - she pauses before babe, like it's her trying to convince him to stay. mb she thought it was best to distance herself/end the friendship for a bit but she still loves him a lot because they've been friends for so long
↳ forzamcqueen: @/museapollo The best explanation I have heard so far. You can't force someone to love you the way you do. At least they've matured and moved on.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
January 2025
Dear Max:
Congratulations. I'm sure you will be a wonderful father, as I have always guessed. 2024 was a great year for you. I watched all a few of your races; you've still got it.
I'm putting out an album soon. I thought you should know. I already had a talk with Kelly, she's listened to some snippets and she likes it a lot. Some of the writing is about you the things I never said.
It was wonderful being your best friend. We had a good run, better than most.
Missing you Wish you the best, Y/N L/N
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
February 2025
Dear Y/N:
Occasionally, I think of all that could have been.
But we had many years together, and I will always cherish those moments.
Kelly loves the album, she puts it on while she cooks or does her makeup. P sings along in the car. She says she wants to go out for a tea party with you sometime. I listen to it even when they're out of the voice, for a reminder of your voice. You've made quite a name for yourself. I'm sorry I couldn't be there by your side.
Thank you for writing it. There are some things that you have to hear once, just for yourself.
Love Always Yours, Max Verstappen
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
what did you think?? i might do a part 2 of yn & max talking for the first time in forever but i wanna know if you guys liked this one first LOL
#formula one#max verstappen x reader#formula one x reader#f1#f1 x you#max verstappen#f1 smau#smau#x reader#rose#oikarma ᯓᡣ𐭩
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Domestic Bliss
Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, Pregnancy, Light angst, comfort, established relationship
Summary: A look into Leon's life that's more than earned
This has been sat in my drafts since the beginning of November..I think it was proof read idk lmao! I hope you enjoy.
Leon didn't know what to expect when he returned from the office. The house was always chaotic, but at least it was filled with the joy and laughter of all those he wanted to protect. The dog found him first as he placed his keys on the hook at the door. The giant bundle of fluff ran to him and almost knocked him off his feet as it attacked his stubble with numerous soggy kisses ignoring his attempt to breathe. He petted the thick fur, cursing as it got all over his clothes. His daughter was next, he spotted her peering around the corner inspecting who the intruder was. Leon's smile grew when she began giggling racing over to him. What did he do to deserve such a life now? All his fighting had finally meant something, giving him life after wasting half of his in service for another.
Tears pooled in his waterline as he caught his little girl, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck holding him close to her. He breathed in her scent, the smell of your perfume lingered on her along with the freshness outside. He lifted her up smiling at how she clung to him, her tiny legs attempting to wrap themselves around his frame as he carried her through the house. His bags and shoes were left forgotten at the front door. Leon tried desperately not to trip over the dog as it weaved between his legs; cursing playfully at the overly excited animal. It didn't take long for him to find you, the smell of dinner luring him to the kitchen. The soft lull of your music filled the space as you fluttered around expertly. It was an effort for him not to fall to his knees as you turned around, your glowing frame welcoming him home. His eyes lingered on the soft swell of your stomach, evidence of the new present you were gracefully giving him. Leon could spend the rest of his days loving you, worshipping you for your endless kindness that you didn't have to give. Your years of patience for waiting for him to see what he truly deserved in life.
"Welcome Home Honey" You cooed a smile plastered on your face as you beckoned him in your arms. "Hey," he whispered into your neck, your daughter squirming between the two of you proclaiming how disgusting this display of affection was. Leon pulled away to lower her to the ground as if he could smile any more he did as he watched her run out of the room the dog following her. His attention turned back to you; love and adoration pooled in his eyes as he glanced down. "Dinner is almost ready, probably done by the time you finish cleaning up" You hummed as you embraced him again, enjoying the way your body moulded around his. Leon breathed in your perfume, swaying you both slightly in a dance to the tune of your love. "Don't know if I'm ready to leave you yet"
"I mean the baby says you need a shower...he's been so active in the last five minutes since you returned" You joked stroking your stomach, smiling at the small kicks. Leon's larger hand found its place there as well, his eyes lighting up at his son kicking against his palm. "That's your way of saying I smell?" He chuckled, kissing the crown of your head. He groaned before submitting and making his way towards the bathroom.
He stripped the sweaty clothes off his body and stared in the mirror as he waited for the water to heat up. His eyes scanned over his features, the dark circles that lay beneath his piercing gaze now came from the sleep nights of his daughter instead of the memories that haunt him. He still had those nights, ones where he would shoot up in your shared bed; sobs threatening to spill from his lips as he imagined the scared 21-year-old. He always felt guilty for waking you and his daughter up during those nights; appreciating the way you both worked together to calm him and soothe him back to sleep. He half expected the shower stream to turn red as it dripped down his body; washing away every horrible thing he had to do as part of his job. He never felt clean, picking off pieces of lint on his clothes even if there wasn't anything there to begin with. He gazed at all the scars that littered his body, remembering all the lies he had told his daughter about how he obtained them. Leon closed his eyes allowing the steam to roll around the room, calming him as he washed it all away.
You smiled at him as he walked down the stairs. The dinner table is laid neatly by you as he resumes his usual spot. It never felt right for him to sit at the head of the table. He may be the sole earner of the family and the owner of the house but you crafted it into a home. One who was so warm and invited his friends often spoke about how jealous they were when they visited frequently. Leon smiled as he listened to his daughter's idle chatter about her day; handing out a few jokes and comments on the activities he was being caught on. He watched the mop of blond hair run into the other room leaving the two of you to finish your meal. The silence that filled the air was comforting. You smiled as you watched his shoulders relaxed the tension visibly fading from his frame.
.After cleaning up you were greeted to the sight of him napping as his daughter is laying on his body watching Disney princess' again. Her little head slowly rose and fell as his breaths evened out. You knew she felt safe with tthe way her little eyes struggled to stay awake against her father's soft snores. So you resumed your spot in the armchair beside them; watching him heal from the past with his little girl in his arms. Watching the person you loved so dearly finally feel alive since that fateful night.
#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy imagine
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aryomengrande's 127 squad (2024 division) ᕦ(ò_ó)ᕤ
← 2023 division | 2025 division →
happy 1/27 day !! you placed my artworks of keisuke baji, hajime kokonoi, and haruchiyo sanzu in 1st, 2nd, and 7th place in my most liked pieces across all my platforms last year, making it eligible for them to be in my 127 squad (⌐▰U▰) can i js say neo truly got my back last year bc baji and sanzu made it to 127 squad ?? ( ಥ‿ಥ ) neo truly got koko's back as well bc he's once again in the no. 2 spot lmao (koko give chance to others this year ok (눈_눈)) anyway, thank u to everyone who showed these posts a lot of love ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ excited to see which ones get in the 127 squad this year ! ♡
deets under the cut
the album reference for baji is favorite (catharsis ver.). baji is my favorite character from TR, there is no one else i'm gonna crossover favorite album except for him. baji is also associated with vampires bc of his sharp canines which fits favorite perfectly bc the title track is entitled favorite (vampire).
the background is from lee taeyong and mark lee's parts in the music video. i'm enamored by that set, the woods, the lighting, the hearts, the envelopes, the apples...it's eye candy to me !
baji's pose is mark's pose and his drip is taeyong's.
a lil thing i added that's not related to favorite or nct 127 is the bejeweled bracelet. it appears in my birthday art for baji last year as well as my new year's art that also features him. gotta stay committed to the bit ( ̄ー ̄(_ _(
the album reference for koko is 2 baddies (faster ver.). nothing more koko-coded than flaunting wealth hdjsjs as the title track goes, '2 baddies, 2 baddies, 1 porsche' ✧˖°
the reference for koko is yuta nakamoto ♡
so usually i put their full names instead of the album title right and w koko's i js put '1 kokonoi' bc hajime means 'one' so it already means 'hajime kokonoi' which i like bc it mirrors the album title (2 baddies : 1 kokonoi).
the album reference for sanzu is cherry bomb. 'a cherry bomb that has been pickled for quite some time, you don't know when it'll burst' ; sanzu's always been chill in the beginning and then suddenly js snaps at some point lol a real cherry bomb (he has pink hair too, it's not red, but y'know, close enough ! 🍒)
the reference for sanzu is a combination of johnny suh and yuta nakamoto—it's johnny's teaser photo, the outfit is johnny's oufit during a live performance of cherry bomb (nctzens iykyk HAHAAH) but the format is from yuta's teaser photo.
originally, the person on the tvs behind johnny is johnny himself but for sanzu i changed it to mikey (specifically kanto manji!mikey bc this is kanto manji!sanzu) bc who else would sanzu be watching djdjsj
the pixel art in yuta's teaser photo originally had a cherry head, i changed it to a cheesecake head bc that's sanzu's favorite food. had to cram learning how to draw pixel art so yuh, sanzu u are so loved by aryomengrande HAHA
#fromaryg#digital art#tokyo revengers#anime#nct127#tr#tokrev#keisuke baji#baji keisuke#baji#hajime kokonoi#kokonoi hajime#koko#sanzu haruchiyo#haruchiyo sanzu#sanzu#manjiro sano#sano manjiro#mikey#mikey sano#sano mikey
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Togame Jo + sfw + “Can I sleep with you—like next to you? Is that weird to ask…?” :]
→ EVENT OVERVIEW
prompt: “can i sleep with you— like next to you? is that weird to ask…?” characters: togame jo (wbk) x gn!reader contents: fluff, reader has trouble sleeping, they’re still kinda new in the rs? soft bf!togame <3 wc ~ 1k (not proofread)
a/n: tried to mino-insert but erm togame aside, what if this is ooc mino.. /sniff
“you sure you wanna sit this one out?”
togame’s skepticism sounds from one corner of the living room, and you turn your head to look at him. his tall frame stands by the window, long fingers peeking through the blinds at the tempest raging outside. he throws you a questioning glance when you take a second too long to reply, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.
“yeah, i’m sure. i got stuff to do tomorrow so it’s best that i get home by tonight,” you answer, mentally reprimanding yourself for openly staring at him. togame hums and nods slowly, though you can still see the wariness seeping in his emerald gaze.
the end credit of the movie the two of you had been watching prior to the storm is still rolling, faint music playing in the background along with the occasional thunder booming from the outside as you let the silence stretch.
togame wants to object, he really does. ain’t no way he’s letting you go back home in such terrible weather with only yourself as company. much like the thunderstorms just outside the window, he can feel an uproar of emotions rolling inside him; the doubts clouding his decisions, the flashes of worst case scenarios in his mind and the spews of protests that he wants rain down on you.
togame had initially arranged this movie date to give you the rest that you deserve. he’d long noticed the exhaustion in your eyes the past few days, something that you’d always brush off as trivial when he’d ask about it.
he had put on that boring ass movie for a reason, wanting to get you to doze off on him so that you could catch up on the sleep that you’d been missing. even a short nap would do but unfortunately for him, you stayed awake throughout the entire movie.
alas, he only brings up the notion he’s been holding in this whole time. “i don’t mind you staying over, though.”
from the couch you’re sitting on, you regard him wordlessly with a curious look marred over your face. “i didn’t bring anything to change into,” you reason, and yet it holds no weight considering your current circumstance.
his lips widen into a smile, one so tender you’d always find yourself distractedly gazing at it as he returns to his rightful place beside you, one leg folded on the couch while the other resting on the soft carpet below. “you can wear my clothes,” he simply says.
your pulse jumps then, swallowing tentatively at the suggestion. the tv has finally quietened down, the space now only filled with the sound of nature in turbulence.
togame swears he could’ve sagged down like a kicked dog the longer you stay silent. he had only realized the breath he’s been holding when he feels the way his chest relaxes, with you finally opening your mouth to speak. “...okay.”
another rush of emotions courses through him when he sees you draped in his shirt and shorts moments later, this time it’s in a heap of endearment, infatuation, satisfaction and a mild possessiveness piling together in a pair of saturated emeralds.
you’ve always been a sight for him to behold, but when you’re wearing his clothes? togame jo thinks he might’ve fallen in love with you all over again.
“how are we…?” your voice breaks him out of his trance, noticing how your gaze keeps bouncing between him and the bed. he clenches his jaw, the blood pumping in his veins heating up at the thought of sleeping in one bed with you.
“take the bed,” he firmly insists, leaving no argument to the matter as he nods his chin towards the mess of pillows and blankets. he walks towards the wardrobe to change himself, not caring that you’re there to look at him doing so (he hopes you do).
from the corner of his eyes, togame watches as you settle in the bed, patting the pillows to fluff them up and making yourself a temporary home under his blankets. he watches as you adjust and readjust your head where you lay, and he watches as you start tossing and turning to get yourself in a more comfortable position.
it’s only when he finishes his nightly routine, going so far as taking his sweet time in the bathroom and finding out that you’re still not asleep that he decides to try and put a stop to this predicament.
“hey,” he softly calls out, watching as the smooth curve of your back stiffens slightly at his voice. you crane your neck to peer back at him, and he can feel the tug on his heartstrings at the sight of your bright, unblinking eyes. the mattress dips under his weight when he props a knee onto it, a flash of lightning from between the curtains further illuminating the intent in his actions.
“can i…” he licks his lips in a moment of hesitation. “can i sleep with you— like, next to you?” his raspy baritone sends a trail of shivers down your back. halfway onto the bed, there’s a clear room for you to push him away lest you ever decide to say no to his advance. “is that weird to ask…?”
you purse your lips slightly, forehead creasing at the question. you’ve certainly cuddled together before so why should this be any different? so no, it’s not weird at all, and it never will be.
you express your thoughts by turning to face him, flipping the blankets open on his side. togame’s slow exhale melts into a smile as he accepts the invitation, taking the space beside you before he lifts an arm, returning an invite to you.
it feels like a proper home, being in togame’s embrace. his hold on you is firm and secure, cocooning you in his warmth as his familiar scent floods your senses. he pulls you closer against his chest and tangles his legs with yours as if trying to meld your bodies together, burying his nose into your hair as your heart steadily beats in sync with his.
it takes quite a while, a few hours maybe, but for the first time in so long, you close your eyes and fall asleep.
chat would he actually have a routine before bed? need opinions and thoughts🎤 anw ty for participating mino heh gives u the biggest fattest wettest(?) smooch
©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !
#togame jo x reader#togame jo x you#jo togame x reader#jo togame x you#togame x reader#togame fluff#togame x you#wind breaker x reader#windbreaker x reader#wind breaker fluff#windbreaker fluff#1kakes event 🎂#🥣 rye works
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& it was all yellow (strangers to lovers)
summary: yellow was never beomgyu’s favorite color—until you came along with your ridiculously bright yellow headphones that somehow made you look even cuter. he saw you on the bus once, just minding your business, and that was it—game over for him. suddenly, yellow wasn’t just a color; it was you. the only problem? beomgyu (yes, the choi beomgyu, who seems cool and confident to everyone else) turns into a shy, blushing mess whenever you’re around. now he’s sitting there, heart racing, trying to come up with any excuse to talk to you—without making a complete fool of himself. except he does.
genre: fluff!!! super mega fluff. no angst. none at all. i promise!
characters: beomgyu x f!reader
words: 11.9k
warnings: cursing? i think
a/n: im such a beomgyu simp. i just have so much ideas for this man...and legend has it hes not even my bias.........................
Beomgyu liked to think of himself as two different people.
There was Group Beomgyu—the one his friends knew. Loud, quick-witted, always cracking jokes that left everyone in stitches. He was the guy who could light up a room without even trying. The one who dared his friends to do the ridiculous, like singing karaoke in public or sneaking fries into a movie theater.
But then, there was Solo Beomgyu.
That version of him emerged the moment he was alone. Quiet. Thoughtful. A little unsure of himself. Solo Beomgyu found solace in the mundane—watching raindrops race down bus windows, people-watching from his favorite spot at the back of the bus, and trying to guess the life stories of strangers in passing.
The bus ride to campus was his favorite part of the day. It was his escape, his time to recharge before stepping into the chaos of college life. And lately, it had become even more interesting—because of you.
It was silly, really. The first time he noticed you, he thought you looked cute as you climbed onto the bus in a skirt and baby tee. Your hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and you wore a pair of headphones that were impossible to miss. Those headphones—bright, sunny yellow—were probably the most damning thing about you.
How could someone so effortlessly capture his attention with something as simple as a pop of color? Yet there you were, sitting a few seats away, bobbing your head to the music only you could hear, completely oblivious to the way you’d become the highlight of his mornings.
Life had a funny way of showing irony. Just the day before, after spending hours gaming with his buddies, Beomgyu had sighed into his pillow, the weight of routine pressing down on him. It wasn’t that he hated his life—far from it. He was content, in a way. But somewhere deep down, he felt like his world had lost its color.
Nothing excited him anymore. Life had become an endless loop: wake up, take the bus to campus, study, head home, game with his friends, sleep, and repeat. Sure, there were the occasional party invitations, and he didn’t mind attending one here and there. But even those didn’t light a spark in him. They were fun, sure, but not really his scene.
It was strange to think how much his days blended together—until recently. Because now, as silly as it sounded, one part of his routine had started to stand out.
You.
Or, more specifically, your bright yellow headphones. They’d added a splash of color to his otherwise grayscale world. Something about how unapologetically vibrant they were made you seem larger than life, even as you quietly kept to yourself. It wasn’t just the headphones—it was you. The way you looked so at ease in your own little bubble, head bobbing to music only you could hear.
It was ridiculous to feel this drawn to someone he’d never even spoken to. But then again, maybe those yellow headphones weren’t just a splash of color. Maybe they were the first brushstroke of something entirely new.
It had been weeks since he’d first noticed you. By now, he’d already memorized your bus schedule—not because he was a stalker or anything, but simply because you seemed to follow the same routine as him. Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, like clockwork, you’d board the bus at the same stop, settle into your usual seat, and disappear into your world of music.
The two of you always got off at the same stop, though you’d inevitably drift in separate directions. He’d head toward the business building, his heavy bag slung over one shoulder, while you veered off toward the art center. That alone made him think you were an arts student. It fit, somehow. There was something creative about the way you carried yourself—effortless, like you were painting a masterpiece just by walking through the world.
And even though he didn’t know your name or anything about you beyond these small details, you’d already become a fixture in his mind.
–
“You should talk to her,” Soobin mumbled, biting off a chunk of his chocolate bar and waving it lazily in the air as if the solution were that simple.
“And say what?” Beomgyu shot back, slumping further into the worn couch in their shared dorm.
“I don’t know... things?” Soobin shrugged, barely looking up from the phone in his other hand.
Beomgyu rolled his eyes, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “You’re useless.”
Soobin smirked. “Says the guy who’s spent weeks staring at her like a weirdo.”
Beomgyu groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “It’s not that easy, okay? What if she’s not interested? What if I mess it up? What if—”
“What if she’s waiting for you to say something?” Soobin interrupted, his tone suddenly a little softer. “Look, all I’m saying is, you’re not gonna get anywhere just memorizing her bus schedule and hoping she notices you exist.”
Beomgyu scoffed but couldn’t deny the sting of truth in his friend’s words. He’d spent so much time admiring you from afar, inventing scenarios in his head, but none of them ever involved him actually... acting on it.
“Fine,” he muttered, more to himself than to Soobin. “I’ll talk to her.”
Soobin raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.” Beomgyu straightened up, determination flickering in his eyes. “Next time I see her, I’ll... I’ll figure something out.”
Soobin grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Can’t wait to hear about how that goes.”
Beomgyu shot him a glare but couldn’t help the tiny smile tugging at his lips.
–
And just like that, he’d convinced himself he was ready to approach you. Except he wasn’t. Days had passed, and despite his mental pep talks and rehearsed lines, he couldn’t bring himself to even say hi.
Like he said, “solo Beomgyu” was a whole different type of Beomgyu.
In front of his friends, he could crack jokes and steal the spotlight without breaking a sweat. But in front of you? He became a nervous wreck, fumbling over words in his head that never even made it out.
Well, that was until one fateful morning.
The city had woken up to chaos. Roads were closed in multiple areas because of some big event Beomgyu didn’t bother to look up—probably a marathon or a parade or something equally annoying to his morning routine. Either way, it was causing a major disruption, and Beomgyu was not thrilled.
He stood at the bus stop, waiting impatiently as three consecutive buses rolled by, each one packed to the brim. It felt like an eternity. He rolled his eyes and groaned inwardly, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder.
Great.
The crowd at the stop grew thicker, and Beomgyu found himself shifting uncomfortably between clusters of impatient commuters. He hated waiting. Hated the feeling of wasting time when he could’ve been doing literally anything else.
And then he saw you.
You stood a little further down the pavement, your yellow headphones perched snugly over your ears, your gaze focused somewhere distant. You didn’t seem nearly as bothered by the chaos around you, which only added to the list of things Beomgyu found unfairly fascinating about you.
For a moment, he debated whether to move closer, maybe strike up a conversation while you both waited. But before he could make up his mind, the next bus pulled up.
This one wasn’t quite as crowded, though still far from comfortable. Beomgyu squeezed on, finding himself pushed toward the back, when suddenly, a voice interrupted his silent grumbling.
“Excuse me.”
It was soft but clear enough to make him glance over—and there you were, maneuvering through the aisle, your bag held close to your side as you tried to find a spot to stand. Beomgyu froze.
You were right there.
Fate, coincidence, bad luck—whatever it was, it had dropped you within arm’s reach. Beomgyu’s heart hammered in his chest as he tried to decide what to do. Say something? Smile? Pretend he didn’t notice you and stare out the window like his life didn’t hinge on this moment?
The bus jolted suddenly, and you stumbled, grabbing onto the nearest pole to steady yourself. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it—that pole was the same one Beomgyu was holding onto.
Your hand brushed his, just briefly, but it was enough to send his brain into overdrive.
“Sorry,” you said softly, glancing up at him with an apologetic smile before returning your focus to the window.
Beomgyu blinked, his heart still racing. He opened his mouth, words teetering on the edge of spilling out, but all he managed was a faint, “It’s okay.”
You didn’t hear him. Or if you did, you didn’t acknowledge it. And just like that, the moment passed, leaving Beomgyu kicking himself internally.
But as the bus rolled on, he found a tiny flicker of hope. Sure, he hadn’t said much, but you’d spoken to him first. That had to mean something, right?
20 minutes. The bus ride was 20 minutes, and the two of you were right next to each other. Beomgyu felt his palms sweating, his heart pounding in his chest.
God, she’s right beside me. He felt himself gulp, glancing over at you from the corner of his eye.
He’d never been so grateful for being almost a head and a half taller than you. It meant you couldn’t see the small, nervous glances he kept stealing in your direction.
The bus was growing more crowded by the minute. It was starting to get a little uncomfortable. You could feel yourself being pushed into Beomgyu, the pressure increasing with every jolt the bus took. His arms were propped up, gripping the taller handles above him, while you fumbled around, trying to find anything to hold onto. First, you grabbed the pole, then the handles near the seats, but as the bus rocked, you found yourself with nothing to stabilize you.
Beomgyu noticed. His heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, he reached behind you, his hand hovering near your backpack, fingers brushing against the fabric, just trying to hold you steady. He hoped you didn’t notice.
But the bus was moving like a rollercoaster. The driver swerved around a corner, and suddenly, the entire vehicle felt like it was on the edge of tipping. A pothole hit with a thud, and the jolt sent you stumbling.
You flailed for balance, but there was nothing left to grab. Before you knew it, you were teetering dangerously, feeling yourself lose your footing.
In an instant, Beomgyu’s hand shot forward. His fingers found your shoulders, steadying you before you could fall. The warmth of his hands against you was unexpected, sending a flutter through your chest.
You looked up at him, your eyes wide with surprise.
“Thank you,” you said breathlessly, your voice soft but clear, your heart still racing from the near-miss.
Beomgyu froze for a second, the sound of your voice like music to his ears. He felt the flush creep up his neck but tried to hide it with a casual, “No problem.” His grip lingered for just a moment longer than necessary, though neither of you seemed to mind.
The bus swayed again, and for a second, everything felt oddly... comfortable. Beomgyu could hear his heart thumping in his chest, but this time it was because of you—not the chaos of the ride.
—
The next day, the roads had finally cleared up. Beomgyu silently thanked every living being for that, especially since he had been about 30 minutes late for his class the previous day, missing out on a lecture he’d already been struggling with.
As he waited for the bus, his eyes automatically scanned the street, and there you were—your familiar yellow headphones bouncing as you made your way toward the bus stop.
You looked up, catching his eye from a few feet away, and offered him a smile.
“Hello,” you said, your voice light and friendly.
Beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, he forgot how to breathe. “H-Hello,” he managed to croak out, cringing inwardly. Idiot.
You didn’t seem to mind, though. You gave him another smile, and it felt like the whole world slowed down for a second.
The bus soon arrived, and the two of you got on. Beomgyu’s eyes scanned the seats, and to his horror, all the empty ones were... right next to each other.
He froze. Great. Of course. Of all the seats.
Reluctantly, he made his way toward the row where you had already started to sit, mentally preparing himself for a potentially awkward ride. As he approached, you glanced up at him, your expression brightening.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
You shook your head. “It’s a free country.”
Beomgyu hesitated for a moment longer than necessary before sitting down beside you.
The bus jolted forward, and he instinctively reached for the pole above them, his fingers gripping it a little too tightly. Why am I so nervous? He couldn’t understand it.
Meanwhile, you settled into the seat, adjusting your backpack and glancing out the window. For a moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world—sitting beside someone you’d barely spoken to but already felt strangely connected with.
Beomgyu had no idea how to break the silence. But then, as if on cue, you turned to him.
“So… how’s your day going so far?”
It was a simple question, but the way you asked it made his heart race all over again. He managed to smile, albeit awkwardly.
“Uh, good, I guess. The roads are less crazy today.”
You laughed, and it felt like the weight in his chest lightened a little. “Yeah, I noticed. It was a mess yesterday.”
He nodded, relieved that the conversation hadn’t turned into an awkward silence.
“So… you’re heading to the art center again?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
You nodded, your smile softening. “Yeah. I’m always there on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays.”
“Oh.” He pretended like he hadn’t known this little detail about you.
Beomgyu found himself relaxing a little more with each passing second. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. The awkwardness was still there, but it felt like a stepping stone—like the beginning of something that could finally get easier.
The bus continued to roll along, Beomgyu stole a quick glance at you, his heart fluttering as you hummed softly to the music in your headphones. For once, the awkwardness didn’t feel so unbearable.
The next few minutes passed in relative silence, with only the occasional rattle of the bus as it made its way through the streets. Beomgyu found himself struggling to think of anything to say. He could hear the faint melody of your music through the air, but there was no other conversation to fill the space. He tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh, stealing glances at you, trying to figure out how to start another topic.
His mind raced with all the things he could say, but none of them seemed good enough. This is so awkward, he thought, almost groaning internally. Why is this so hard?
His eyes landed on his phone. The distraction was tempting. He pulled it out and quickly opened Spotify, deciding that he could at least use the music to mask the silence between the two of you. Beomgyu scrolled through his playlists, searching for something that felt right for the moment.
The bus jerked again, and Beomgyu adjusted his seat, tapping on a song and turning the volume up, only to suddenly realize—Wait, I haven’t connected my AirPods.
Flustered, he fumbled with his phone, tapping at the Bluetooth settings and then back to the app, his face warming with embarrassment. Idiot.
But as the awkwardness hit its peak, you turned to him with a soft smile. “I like that song,” you said, your voice calm and easy, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “It really suits you.”
Beomgyu blinked in surprise, his nerves a little shaken by the unexpected compliment. He looked at you, his heart racing again. “It suits me?” he repeated, voice a little higher than he intended.
You shrugged lightly, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Yeah, it’s got a kind of... laid-back vibe. Kind of like you, I guess?”
Beomgyu’s face flushed, not sure whether to laugh or be more self-conscious. He adjusted his AirPods in a hurry, trying to make himself look less flustered than he felt.
“Thanks,” he said, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I mean, it’s just a playlist... but yeah. It’s one of my favorites.”
You smiled back, then looked out the window again, but Beomgyu couldn’t help but notice how much more comfortable the moment felt now. The weight of silence didn’t seem so heavy anymore.
He tapped play on the song again, this time making sure the music was coming through his AirPods. The familiar melody filled his ears, and for once, the awkwardness didn’t feel so unbearable. Instead, it was like a subtle connection was forming, one little step at a time.
"And how would you know if I'm laid-back?" Beomgyu asked shyly, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but the curiosity in your eyes made him feel like he could ask the question without it sounding too awkward.
You chuckled softly, turning to face him for a moment. "I don't know," you shrugged, smiling. "Just a guess? Call it a woman's intuition."
Beomgyu blinked, not quite sure what to say. “Woman's intuition?” he repeated, a little taken aback.
You grinned, a playful glint in your eyes. “I don’t know, maybe I just get a sense of things.” You hesitated for a second, then added, “But I could be wrong. I mean, I don’t really know you.”
He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. But at least, for now, you didn’t seem to mind.
"I-I guess I do try not to let things bother me too much," he mumbled, still trying to figure out what to do with his hands. "Though, I wouldn't say I'm always that chill. I have my... moments." He let out a nervous laugh, hoping you wouldn't think he was some kind of mess.
You smiled, your eyes crinkling at the corners. "Everyone does."
Beomgyu blinked, surprised by how comforting your words were. For a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down again, and it was just the two of you, exchanging these small moments of understanding.
"True," Beomgyu said softly, his smile growing a little more genuine. "I guess I'm just not great at dealing with, you know, awkward moments."
You looked at him curiously. "Awkward moments, huh?"
Beomgyu nodded, his ears turning a little red. "Yeah... like this one." He gestured vaguely between the two of them, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "I mean, I don't usually... I don't know, talk to people like this."
Your smile softened. "You seem like you’re doing just fine to me."
His heart swelled a little at that. "Really?"
"Yeah," you replied, your tone sincere. "You’re doing great."
Beomgyu’s face lit up with a smile he couldn’t contain. "Thanks," he said, feeling a little less nervous than he had before. "That means a lot, actually."
For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the sound of the bus’s tires on the road and the faint music in his ears the only background noise. Beomgyu felt a strange sense of peace settle in his chest. Maybe this wasn’t so hard after all.
He glanced over at you, catching you humming softly along to the music, and realized that, somehow, this was one of the most comfortable conversations he’d ever had.
"Hey," Beomgyu said after a beat, his curiosity getting the best of him. "What about you? What’s your favorite type of music?"
You turned to him with a thoughtful look, clearly enjoying the question. "I guess I’m all about the acoustic stuff mostly."
"Acoustic, huh?" Beomgyu said with a smile, intrigued. "I can see that. Seems like something you’d like."
You smiled, the sound of your laughter filling the space between you. "You got that from…?”
“Call it an idiot’s intuition.” He chuckled.
You laughed, “What about you?"
Beomgyu chuckled, trying to hide the grin that spread across his face. "I’m pretty into all kinds of stuff, but right now? Definitely some chill pop. Y’know, maybe I’m starting to agree with you on the whole laid-back thing."
You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing him. "So, you admit it?"
Beomgyu shrugged, leaning back a little, feeling a little more confident with each word. "Yeah. I guess I do."
And in that moment, Beomgyu finally realized that maybe, just maybe, the things he’d been too nervous to do or say weren’t as difficult as he’d once thought.
—
Beomgyu slumped back into his bus seat, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath. After weeks of stealing glances and summoning every ounce of courage he had, today had finally been the day he talked to you. Well, kind of. It was small talk—weather, classes, and music. But it was progress.
And yet, in his nervousness, he’d forgotten the most important thing. He hadn’t asked for your name or your number. He groaned inwardly, glancing out the window as the bus trundled down the familiar route. It was Thursday, which meant he wouldn’t see you again until Monday. Four whole days.
“Great,” he muttered, slumping further into his seat. “Four days to kick myself for being an idiot.”
Monday arrived far too slowly, and Beomgyu was oddly fidgety, his leg bouncing as he stared at the bus stop from his seat. The bus slowed to a stop, and his heart leapt in anticipation—only to sink when you weren’t there.
He glanced out the window, confused. Maybe you were running late. Or you’d taken an earlier bus? He brushed it off, convincing himself you’d show up tomorrow.
But then Tuesday came. And Wednesday. And still, there was no sign of you.
Beomgyu found himself staring at the seat you always sat in, empty and glaringly obvious. He hated how it bothered him so much. He barely knew you—he didn’t even know your name—and yet he felt like something was missing. Like the bus rides were quieter without the possibility of you being there.
By Thursday, disappointment had settled heavily in his chest. He sat near the back, earphones in but barely paying attention to the music. The world outside the window blurred past, but his thoughts were stuck on you.
Where were you?
—
It had been approximately two weeks since Beomgyu had last seen you. You had vanished like the wind, leaving him frustrated and more restless than he wanted to admit. Every day since, he’d made excuses to linger outside the art center, hoping for some sign of you. Desperation had even driven him to approach the center’s custodian, awkwardly asking if he’d seen anyone with bright yellow headphones.
“Yellow headphones?” a voice behind him piped up, catching Beomgyu off guard. “You mean this girl, right?”
Beomgyu turned to find a tall, sharp-featured guy holding out his phone, displaying a picture of you.
Immediately, Beomgyu’s stomach twisted. He took in the guy’s confident smile, the casual air about him, and the way he spoke about you like he knew you well—too well. He didn’t like it one bit.
“Yeah, that’s her,” Beomgyu said, his voice measured. “Who are you?”
“I’m Yeonjun,” the guy said, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He extended a hand, but Beomgyu hesitated for a second before shaking it. “I’m her friend.”
Friend? Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed slightly. Yeonjun was a little too good-looking to just be a friend, wasn’t he?
“So, uh…” Beomgyu cleared his throat, trying to hide the slight edge in his voice. “Do you know where she’s been?”
Yeonjun’s expression softened, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Yeah. Something happened a couple of weeks ago. She’s been taking some time off to deal with it. But she should be back next week.”
Beomgyu felt a wave of relief wash over him—until Yeonjun added, “She’s been doing okay, though. We’ve been texting, and I’ve checked in on her a couple of times. You know, just to make sure she’s alright.”
Beomgyu’s jaw tightened. Texting? Checking in? Was that really necessary for a “friend”? He tried to keep his expression neutral, but a pang of jealousy flared in his chest.
“Right,” Beomgyu said, forcing a small smile. “That’s good. It’s good she has…people checking in on her.”
Yeonjun tilted his head, studying Beomgyu for a moment. “Who are you, anyway?” he asked casually. “Do you…know her?”
Beomgyu froze for a split second, the question catching him off guard. He shrugged quickly, trying to play it off. “Not really. We just…take the same bus sometimes.”
“Oh,” Yeonjun said, his lips quirking up into a small, knowing smile. “I see. So you’re, what? A bus friend?”
“Something like that,” Beomgyu mumbled, suddenly feeling like an idiot. He wished he’d thought of something cooler to say, but it was too late now.
“Well,” Yeonjun said with a grin, “that’s cute. But yeah, don’t worry—she’ll be back soon. And maybe I’ll see you around too, man.”
“Yeah. See you,” Beomgyu replied, watching as Yeonjun walked away.
As soon as Yeonjun was out of sight, Beomgyu exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He felt ridiculous. He didn’t even know your name, and yet here he was, stewing over some guy who probably wasn’t even competition.
Still, as he walked back toward the bus stop, the thought lingered: What if Yeonjun wasn’t just a friend?
—
And Yeonjun was right. You were back the following week, except you were dressed in the darkest colors Beomgyu had ever seen you wear. Your expression matched your clothing—cloudy, somber, and weighed down by something unseen. Strangely, he found it almost endearing that you seemed to dress the way you felt.
Still, it made him worry. Not that he had any right to, given that you two weren’t exactly close. But the thought lingered: What could’ve happened to make her look this upset?
When he finally gathered the courage to take the seat beside you on the bus, you didn’t even glance at him. You were completely absorbed in your thoughts, your body language practically screaming, Leave me alone.
“Life sucks, doesn’t it?” Your voice cut through his thoughts suddenly.
“Huh?” he asked, blinking in surprise.
You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed out the window. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”
He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “It can suck,” he admitted. “But it can also be really great.”
You turned your head slightly, finally acknowledging him with a raised brow. “Oh, yeah? How’s it ‘really great,’ exactly?”
“Well,” he started, leaning back in his seat, “it’s great because… it’s unpredictable. You never know when something good might happen. Even when everything feels like it’s falling apart, sometimes the universe throws you a surprise. Like…” He paused, glancing at you meaningfully, “…sitting next to someone who’s too cute to be upset.”
The corners of your lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through. “That’s cheesy,” you said, but there was no hiding the slight blush creeping onto your cheeks.
“Cheesy, sure, but also a fact ,” he replied with a grin. “See? You’re smiling already..”
You shook your head, laughing softly before falling quiet again. After a beat of silence, you sighed. “I’m not usually like this. I don’t like moping around. It’s just…”
Beomgyu tilted his head, waiting patiently for you to continue.
“…My parents decided to sell our old childhood home,” you admitted, your voice soft and tinged with sadness. “I had to go back and clear out all my things. It’s stupid. A first-world problem if you must, but I didn’t think it’d hit me this hard.”
He studied you for a moment, his gaze warm and understanding. “It’s not stupid,” he said gently. “It’s your childhood. It’s where you grew up, made memories, and felt safe. It’s okay to be upset about losing something that meant so much to you.”
You looked at him, your expression conflicted. “I guess. It’s just… I feel so silly. Like, there are bigger problems in the world, and here I am crying over a house.”
“It’s not just a house, though, is it?” he countered, his tone firm but kind. “It’s a piece of you. And no one gets to tell you how to feel about it, not even yourself. Your feelings are valid—every single one of them.”
Your lips parted slightly, taken aback by his sincerity. For the first time in days, you felt a weight lift off your chest.
“Thanks,” you said softly, offering him a small, genuine smile. “I didn’t realize I needed to hear that.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” he said with a wink, making you laugh despite yourself.
As the bus rolled to a stop near campus, you glanced at him and hesitated for a moment. “Hey, Beomgyu?”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe life doesn’t suck that much after all,” you said, your smile widening just a little before you stood up and stepped off the bus.
He stayed seated, watching you walk away, and couldn’t help but grin to himself. Maybe life didn’t suck that much, indeed.
Then it hit him.
How’d you know his name?
—
It had become second nature to save each other a seat on the bus. Whether it was an unspoken agreement or just something you both fell into, neither of you questioned it. For the next two weeks, your mornings began with a quiet understanding. You’d sit side by side, talking about the most mundane things—complaints about the weather, funny things you’d overheard, or random thoughts that popped into your heads.
Still, you hadn’t exchanged names, let alone numbers. It was almost absurd at this point, how you knew snippets of each other’s lives but not the most basic details. Except you did know his name—and Beomgyu was still wondering how.
Beomgyu found it funny too. But he didn’t mind. He liked your conversations, no matter how random they were.
Then one day, Beomgyu didn’t show up.
You found yourself glancing down the street more than once, your brows furrowed as you searched for any sign of his figure walking toward the stop. The bus pulled up, and you hesitated, standing on your toes to peer down the block one last time before climbing aboard.
You took your usual seat by the window, feeling a small pang of disappointment. The bus rolled forward, the rain outside picking up again and blurring the city beyond the glass. You stared at the streaks of water running down the pane, wondering where he could be.
That was when the bus jerked to a sudden stop.
You glanced toward the front, curious, only to see someone hopping up the stairs, drenched from head to toe. It took you half a second to recognize him, but when you did, you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you.
Beomgyu stood there, panting slightly, his hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping from his jacket. His sneakers squeaked against the floor as he caught his breath.
“You made it,” you said, grinning as he shuffled over to your seat.
“Yeah,” he replied between breaths, dropping into the seat beside you with a sheepish smile. “Barely.”
“Did you seriously chase the bus?” you asked, trying not to laugh too hard.
“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I couldn’t miss it. Someone’s got to save you a seat.”
You shook your head, biting back a smile as you handed him a tissue from your bag. “It’s the other way around, is it not?”
“Maybe,” he admitted, taking the tissue to wipe his face.
As the bus rolled forward again, the rain continued to pour outside, but it didn’t bother you as much anymore. Beomgyu was here, sitting beside you again, and for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, that made the day feel a whole lot brighter.
“Y’know… I still don’t know how you know my name while I don’t even know yours,” Beomgyu said, leaning back in his seat as he looked at you with curious eyes.
You grinned sheepishly, fiddling with the strap of your bag. “I… It’s stupid.”
“What’s stupid is that we’re practically best friends now, and I still don’t know your name or have your number,” he said with a pointed look.
“I like our friendship. It’s low maintenance,” you teased, biting back a smile.
“I’d like it more if I could talk to you more often instead of just on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays,” he countered, his lips quirking into a small pout.
You laughed. “But isn’t it fun this way?”
“It’s a whole amusement park,” he replied with a chuckle. “Though we’re threading off-topic—how’d you know my name?”
“Who doesn’t know your name, business boy?” you shot back, laughing softly.
“What?” His brows furrowed in confusion.
“You’re the infamous business boy on our school’s social media page. You don’t know about that?”
“Oh, I heard Soobin mention something about it a couple of times, but I don’t really check the app. I just use it to look at the lunch menu,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck.
“Well, you’re always making appearances on there. Especially from new students. ‘The dude from Econs 305 is really cute,’” you mimicked in a high-pitched voice, earning a laugh from him.
“Oh, so you’re saying you frequent the page often to find me?” he teased, leaning a little closer with a smirk.
“No! I’m just saying it pops up on my feed,” you said quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. You looked away, embarrassed by the way he was watching you now.
“Hmm.” Beomgyu’s smirk deepened as he tapped his chin dramatically. “You’re blushing. Are you sure you don’t check it on purpose?”
“Absolutely not,” you huffed, still avoiding his gaze.
“Okay, okay,” he relented, though his grin didn’t fade. He leaned back in his seat and looked at you thoughtfully. “Still, I’m flattered. Infamous, huh? Guess I’ve got quite the reputation.”
You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late,” he said with a playful shrug. Then, after a moment of silence, he tilted his head and added, “So, are you ever going to tell me your name, or are you going to keep the mystery alive?”
You hesitated, biting your lip. “I don’t know… The mystery has a certain charm, don’t you think?”
“Oh, come on,” he groaned dramatically. “Throw me a bone here.”
You laughed, finally relenting. “Fine. I’ll tell you—on one condition.”
“Anything,” he said eagerly, his eyes lighting up.
“You’re going to have to wait a little longer,” you teased, grinning at the look of mock horror on his face.
“Is this some kind of game for you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Maybe,” you grinned, feeling a little mischievous. “But don’t worry, I’ll tell you soon enough.”
Beomgyu sighed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”
Your conversation was abruptly cut off by the bus driver’s voice over the intercom, his tone apologetic. “Sorry for the delay, folks. There’s a small flood up ahead, and we’re going to have to take a detour. We’ll be going around, so it’ll take about 20 more minutes. Please bear with us.”
You sighed, leaning back into your seat. The rain outside was relentless, tapping against the windows in a rhythm that made your eyelids heavy. Gradually, you drifted off, your head tilting toward the window. Every so often, you jerked awake, only for your head to fall back against the glass with a soft thud. Beomgyu watched you, his lips twitching as he stifled a chuckle. He shifted closer, his gaze softening. Carefully, he leaned over and gently placed your head on his shoulder.
You didn’t stir. The comfort of the moment made you relax further into him, unaware of the quiet smile on Beomgyu’s face. After a few moments, an idea sparked in his mind. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a Sharpie, the black marker feeling oddly significant in his hands. Glancing down at your arm, he softly grasped your wrist, guiding it gently. He wrote quickly, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as he scrawled:
‘Text me, I’m trying to be your best friend on all 7 days of the week - Beomgyu’
Once he was done, he sat back, his heart racing a little as he looked at your sleeping form. Pretending like nothing had happened, he adjusted his posture and looked out the window, as if he hadn’t just written his number on your arm.
About 15 minutes later, the bus jolted as it finally approached your campus, pulling into the stop with a slight screech of the wheels. The ride was almost over, and you began to stir, your eyes fluttering open slowly. You blinked a few times, squinting in the morning light that filtered through the windows.
Beomgyu glanced over at you casually, his face neutral as you yawned, rubbing your eyes. You stretched and groggily looked around, your gaze landing on him.
“Hey,” he said, almost too nonchalantly. “We’re here. Campus, I mean.”
You nodded, still dazed from sleep. “Yeah, I guess we are.” You glanced down at your arm, and your eyes widened when you saw the writing on your skin. A small smile tugged at your lips, though you tried to hide it.
Beomgyu didn’t acknowledge your surprise, pretending to look out the window, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his bag. “Didn’t want to wake you up, but… it’s kind of hard to miss, huh?”
You rubbed your arm, trying to act casual. “Hmm, what’s this?” You raised an eyebrow, playing along.
“Nothing,” Beomgyu said, voice smooth. “Just figured it was a good time to share my number. You know, in case you need me for… any reason.” He grinned, his gaze flicking to you for a moment before he quickly looked away, feigning innocence.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your heart fluttering a bit at his casual confidence. “Smooth, Beomgyu. Really smooth.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to make sure I’m not just a bus stop friend,” he said, a playful tone in his voice. “I’ve got big plans for us to hang out… all week long.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”
Beomgyu only grinned, looking down at his bag as the bus doors finally opened. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
As you both stood up, gathering your things, there was a lingering sense of something unspoken between you two, the kind that felt both thrilling and comforting all at once.
—
Beomgyu glanced down at his phone again, his finger hovering over the screen, but there was still no text from you. It had been a day or two since he wrote his number on your arm, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you were just too busy or, worse, playing hard to get. The thought made his chest tighten. He didn’t like that feeling, the uncertainty, but it was all he could think about. God, he wanted you so much, but now... now he wasn’t so sure.
He sighed, shoving his phone into his pocket and heading toward the campus bus stop. His mind kept replaying the moment he'd written his number on your arm, hoping you’d text him. He should’ve just asked for your number, but for some reason, he’d held back. What was wrong with him?
And then, as if on cue, he saw you standing there. His heart skipped a beat. You were just as he remembered—yellow headphones hanging around your neck. But there was something different this time. Something he hadn’t expected.
Someone was with you.
Beomgyu stopped dead in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. Yeonjun. Of course, it had to be him. The guy was tall, confident, and... his arm was around you. Beomgyu's stomach twisted, the jealousy creeping up on him. He wasn’t the type to feel this way, but seeing the two of you together felt like a punch to the gut.
He told himself it wasn’t a big deal. That you’d never given him any indication you liked him in the first place. You were beautiful, funny, smart—of course, you’d be taken. He shouldn’t even be surprised, but damn it, it stung more than he expected.
Beomgyu glanced away, his feet itching to leave. Maybe it was better not to make a fool of himself.
Just as he was about to walk off, a loud voice rang through the air. "Beomgyu!"
He turned, and there you were—waving at him, smiling that infectious smile of yours. His heart fluttered. You looked so happy to see him. For a brief moment, the jealousy melted away, and all he could do was return your smile.
"Beomgyu, right?" Yeonjun said, raising an eyebrow. He grinned, the kind of smile that made Beomgyu want to roll his eyes. "I remember you. You’re the one who asked me where she was when she disappeared for two weeks."
Beomgyu’s face flushed instantly. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to vanish into the ground or laugh it off. "No, no. That’s not me," he muttered, shaking his head quickly, trying to downplay the awkwardness of the moment.
Yeonjun raised an eyebrow. "No, I remember. It was you. I mean, you're the Business Boy, aren’t you?" He smirked, clearly amused. "I was a little surprised you were asking about this idiot here."
You shoved Yeonjun lightly, but Beomgyu could see the playful affection in your eyes. And in that moment, his heart sank. So this was it. You and Yeonjun. He had hoped he was wrong, but now he could see it clearly. You were a couple.
"You asked about me?" You tilted your head slightly, your eyes catching his.
Beomgyu’s cheeks flushed pink. "I mean, you were gone for so long, so I was just... wondering where you went."
"You came all the way to the arts center just to ask about me?" Your voice was light, teasing, and for some reason, it made his heart race.
Beomgyu quickly waved his hand, his face growing even warmer. "It’s not like that," he said, trying to downplay it. "I was just curious, that’s all."
But before he could say anything more, you grinned, eyes sparkling. "That’s so sweet!" You suddenly rushed over to Beomgyu’s arm, linking it with yours, much to his surprise.
He froze for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden closeness. He wasn’t sure whether to pull away or enjoy the moment. His heart thudded in his chest as you looked up at him with a playful smile.
"Okay, okay," Yeonjun chimed in, his voice teasing. "I get it, you two have some weird little connection, but we have to get going. I’ll let you two catch up later." He gave Beomgyu a knowing look before nudging you gently, a playful grin still on his face.
You looked a little embarrassed, but you didn’t let go of Beomgyu’s arm. "Sorry, I just... haven’t seen you in a while, Beomgyu," you said, your voice quieter now, your gaze softening. "It’s nice to know you cared enough to ask about me."
“It’s only been two days,” Beomgyu thought bitterly, but didn’t say aloud. He couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment that surfaced, especially after the number exchange that had been left hanging.
"Also, you haven’t texted me back," you sighed dramatically. "To think you were the one who told me to text you."
Beomgyu blinked, slightly taken aback. "You did?" His voice betrayed his confusion. "I didn’t get anything from you."
"You did!" You shoved your phone in his face. "See?"
Beomgyu grabbed your phone and checked the message history. "I didn’t get anything," he said again, scrolling through, but as he looked closely, he raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you saved my number wrong. It’s an 8, not a 6."
You stared at the screen in disbelief. "It’s a 6. I’m sure of it. Hold on, I even took a picture of it! See!" You quickly opened your gallery and shoved the phone at him again, showing him the snapshot of the contact info.
Beomgyu frowned, shaking his head. "No, that's definitely an 8," he said with a laugh, trying to hide his amusement at your determination.
"You have terrible handwriting!" you retorted, hands on your hips.
"No, I don’t!" Beomgyu shot back, now laughing. "You just have terrible comprehension skills!"
The two of you continued to bicker, your playful banter creating an almost natural rhythm. Yeonjun, standing beside you, cleared his throat loudly, interrupting the back-and-forth.
"Love, we really have to go," he said, his tone flat and a bit impatient, but still affectionate.
You blinked, suddenly realizing the time. "Oh, right! Sorry, I got carried away." Then, turning to Beomgyu with a bright smile, you said, "I’ll text you tonight, Beomgyu!"
Beomgyu, still processing the sudden turn of events, gave you a nod, though his chest felt oddly tight. "Alright," he said, his voice soft. "I’ll be waiting."
With that, you waved one last time and walked away with Yeonjun, leaving Beomgyu standing there, staring after you. He couldn’t help but wonder if the playful banter had meant something more—if maybe there was more between you two than just casual friendship. But until he heard from you, he could only hope.
—
Beomgyu laid in bed, his mind racing. Strangely, it wasn’t you that occupied his thoughts now—it was Yeonjun. Who was he, really? He wasn’t one to stalk someone’s Instagram, but tonight, he found himself doing just that. Scrolling through endless dance videos, selfies, and posts, he finally stumbled upon a highlight reel with a familiar yellow color—your yellow headphones.
Without thinking, his fingers tapped the screen, and video after video started playing. There you were, laughing, giggling, screaming, clearly having fun with Yeonjun. The two of you were obviously close—closer than he had imagined. His chest tightened as he watched, feeling a knot form in his stomach. He didn’t know how to feel. Jealous? That seemed silly, especially since you had never shown any signs of liking him back. His crush on you felt like a one-sided affair, and if anything, this just confirmed it.
Beomgyu chuckled to himself, still feeling that flutter in his chest. He quickly typed another response.
He sighed, shifting uncomfortably under the covers. Time to move on, he told himself. It was just a silly crush, and he had no right to keep dwelling on it. You were probably just being nice, and Yeonjun was clearly in the picture. Beomgyu had no business lingering on something that wasn’t even real.
Just as he was about to close the app, a notification popped up on his screen.
Yellow Headphones: Beomgyu!
His heart skipped a beat, and a rush of warmth spread across his chest. So much for moving on, he thought again, his thumb hovering over the message. He hesitated for a second before responding.
Beomgyu: Yellow headphones~ Yellow Headphones: Is that my new nickname? Beomgyu: Well, depends, it’s either that or bus girl and that doesn’t really have a ring to it. Yellow Headphones: I suppose. Anyway, whatchu doing? ^^
Well, Beomgyu couldn’t tell the truth, now could he? Stalking your potential boyfriend sounded really stupid.
Beomgyu: Just using my phone. You? Yellow Headphones: With Yeonjun right now. He’s been stressed over his dance recital and I’ve been helping him with it, but he’s still feeling all over the place. Beomgyu: Oh. You and him seem really close. Yellow Headphones: Of course! We’ve been friends since we were 10 ^^ we’re practically brother and sister. Beomgyu: Oh! You two aren’t dating? Yellow Headphones: God no, ew… besides, he has a girlfriend, and he is not my type.
Beomgyu’s eyes widened as he read that. Not my type—those words felt like a weight lifting off his chest. The knot in his stomach loosened, and he felt an unexpected surge of hope.
Beomgyu: Oh!
Beomgyu smiled—actually, he beamed. His excitement made him jump out of bed, letting out a quiet scream of joy, before realizing he was making too much noise.
“BEOMGYU, SHUT UP, I’M TRYING TO FUCKING SLEEP!” Soobin yelled from across the hall.
Beomgyu winced, sheepishly holding his phone closer to his chest. "Fuck, sorry!" he whispered, grinning to himself. He had a reason to be happy tonight, and that was enough for now. He quickly typed another message, eager to keep the conversation going.
Beomgyu: Haha, my bad. Yellow Headphones: Haha, it’s okay! Anyway, do you have any plans for tomorrow?
Beomgyu hesitated for a second, heart thumping. Was this really happening?
Yellow Headphones: Maybe we can hang out? I’d love to take this friendship out of the bus.
Beomgyu grinned wider, practically bouncing on his bed.
Beomgyu: I’ll see you at our usual bus stop at 3 then? Yellow Headphones: Sure!
—-
Beomgyu had been waiting at the bus stop for 10 minutes, it wasn’t that you were late, he was just really early, his excitement bubbling up as he checked his phone for the time again. He was nervous, but in a good way. Today was the day. The day he was meeting you outside of the usual school routine, just the two of you. And from the messages he'd gotten earlier, it was clear you were as excited as he was.
Then, as if on cue, he saw you.
You appeared in the distance, looking like a burst of sunshine in a bright yellow dress. Your hair was styled in a half ponytail, held up by a cute bow, making the whole look even more playful. Beomgyu felt his heart race as he took you in. Adorable. He couldn’t even put it into words, but his grin stretched from ear to ear. He had to force himself to stop from gushing about how cute you looked, biting his lip to keep himself from saying it out loud. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to—he just didn’t want to seem too eager.
You skipped over to him, a playful energy radiating from you, and nudged his arm. "There you are," you giggled, poking his sides, making him flinch in surprise but laugh all the same.
"You look great!" you added, eyes twinkling as you looked him up and down.
Beomgyu’s heart fluttered at the compliment. He’d styled his hair with a bit of gel, making it tousled in that effortlessly cool way. He’d chosen a simple, casual dress shirt and slacks—nothing fancy, but enough to look presentable. Enough to say, yeah, I look good. Because, well, he was Beomgyu, and he always did.
“Do I look any different from how I dress on campus?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, though his smile betrayed his excitement.
You chuckled, crossing your arms in front of you as you assessed him. “Well, yeah. You only wear hoodies to school.”
Beomgyu couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m a hoodie guy, what can I say?”
“You’re a hoodie guy with potential,” you teased, poking his side again.
His grin widened. “Guess I’ve got to wear more than just hoodies around you then, huh?”
You shrugged playfully. “Maybe.”
Beomgyu chuckled, feeling a strange warmth spreading through him. This was nice. Really nice. He found himself staring at you, the way you carried yourself with such ease and confidence, making it impossible not to smile. He was genuinely looking forward to this.
“So, uh, what’s the plan?” he asked, wanting to make sure he didn’t come off as awkward, though he was fighting back the urge to let the conversation tumble into something that would sound way too cheesy.
“Well, I thought we could grab coffee first,” you suggested, grinning mischievously. “Then maybe take a walk around the park or something. Just… relax.”
“That sounds perfect,” Beomgyu replied, his voice a little softer than usual, but full of sincerity. He was definitely not about to complain about spending time with you.
You both fell into an easy conversation as you waited for the bus, and Beomgyu couldn’t help but steal glances at you when you weren’t looking, his heart racing in a way he wasn’t used to. Being around you felt different. He’d always been around people, but this—this felt like something he couldn’t quite put into words.
It didn’t matter, though. Today was the start of something, and he was finally okay with the fact that he was feeling it.
—
Beomgyu felt his palms starting to sweat as he sat across from you at the coffee shop. He had no idea what had gotten into him, but suddenly he was nervous. Really nervous. His usual confident demeanor was nowhere to be found, replaced by a strange fluttering in his chest. Every time you laughed, he felt a little spark, and when you looked at him with that warm smile, it was like his heart skipped a beat. It was all so much more than he had anticipated.
You were saying something about how cute the coffee shop was, but Beomgyu was only half listening. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from you—how effortlessly you moved, how you interacted with the people around you, your kindness radiating in everything you did. You said thank you to the barista, smiled at a little kid passing by, and his heart couldn’t help but swell. You were starting to feel a little too perfect, and it was making him swoon.
“So,” you said with a smile, taking a sip of your coffee, “this is a pretty cute first date, isn’t it?”
Beomgyu nearly choked on his drink. “Date? This is a date?” he blurted out, wide-eyed. His heart leaped into his throat as soon as the words left his mouth. He hadn’t even thought about it that way.
You looked up at him, your cheeks instantly turning pink. “This isn’t a date? Oh… I just assumed… this is really embarrassing,” you said, your voice trailing off as you awkwardly shifted in your seat.
Beomgyu felt a wave of panic wash over him. His brain short-circuited, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He’d been so wrapped up in the idea of spending time with you that he hadn’t even considered the possibility of this being a date—and now you were embarrassed, and he didn’t know how to fix it.
"I—I'm sorry, I didn’t—" You sputtered, your words tumbling out in a mix of embarrassment. Then, in a flustered panic, you stood up and accidentally knocked over a glass of water onto your dress. "Oh my god!" you exclaimed, your face flushing in mortification.
Beomgyu’s heart dropped. “No! This can be a—” He rushed to stand up but hesitated, unsure of what to say to make things better.
You started to gather your things, clearly upset. “You don’t have to pity me, Beomgyu. I’ve been in this situation before,” you muttered, looking away and clutching your things tightly. “I’ll just—”
"No, you don’t get it!" Beomgyu almost shouted, his voice a little more desperate than he intended. "I don’t—it's not like that. I didn’t—this can definitely be a date if you want it to be," he stammered, feeling the heat rise to his face.
You froze, your hand still gripping your bag, and turned back to look at him. The nervousness in your eyes faded slightly, replaced by a hesitant curiosity. “Really?” you asked softly, as though unsure if you should believe him. “Because you don’t have to lie—”
“I’m not,” Beomgyu replied quickly, his voice more certain now. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Ever since you took the bus in those big, bright yellow headphones.”
“Oh,” you whispered, your eyes widening slightly. For a moment, everything was silent except for the chatter from everyone else in the coffee shop.
Beomgyu scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of how to continue. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he couldn't look away from you. “I know this probably isn’t how we both pictured this would happen,” he admitted, his voice softening.
This time, it was you who fell silent. You didn’t know what to say, so you just stood there, frozen in place. Then your eyes flickered downward. You realized your dress was wet, a small stream of water dripping down your leg.
“Right, my dress,” you mumbled, suddenly panicked.
“Here,” Beomgyu said quickly, handing you a napkin.
“Thanks,” you replied, your voice small as you dabbed at the wet fabric.
There was a brief moment of awkward silence, the realization of what had just been said still hanging in the air. So, you both clearly had feelings for each other, but neither of you seemed to know what to do with them.
“So, uh…” You both spoke at the same time, your words overlapping, before you both chuckled nervously.
“Yeah, uh…” Beomgyu trailed off, his hands shifting uncomfortably in his lap. “This is… a lot.”
“Yeah, a little,” you agreed, your voice tinged with a mixture of laughter and embarrassment.
For a moment, neither of you spoke again. The noise around you, the clinking of coffee cups and low hum of conversations, seemed to fill the space between you, making it feel both cozy and utterly awkward at the same time.
Beomgyu was the first to break the silence, his voice quiet but sincere. “I really like you, you know?”
You smiled at him, your heart fluttering. “I like you too, Beomgyu. I really do.”
He looked at you, his eyes soft and a little shy now, but there was something else there too—hope. “Before we, I guess… become a couple…” He cringed, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how endearing he was. “I’d love to take you out on a few dates first. I’d really like to get to know you better.”
You grinned. “You’re almost too perfect, I fear.”
Beomgyu smirked playfully. “I was thinking the same thing.”
You laughed again, the sound light and easy between the two of you. It felt good—comfortable, even—and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so at ease with someone.
—
Two years had passed since that awkward coffee shop moment, and here they were again, at the same bus stop where it all began. Beomgyu and you stood side by side, hand in hand, but there was a noticeable difference now—two years of laughter, moments, and quiet affection between the two of you.
“This is ridiculous!” you exclaimed, frustration clear in your voice. “Why didn’t we think of moving somewhere else? Why do we insist on staying in this godforsaken area?!”
Beomgyu just chuckled, squeezing your hand lightly. “Baby, c’mon, this is where our roots are. Have you forgotten? Bus buddies and all that crap?”
You shot him a playful glare, rolling your eyes. “Gyu, this is getting crazy.” You gestured towards the crowded bus, which was slowly pulling away. “It’s the third one we’ve had to miss today. We’re never going to get to work on time at this rate.”
Beomgyu shrugged nonchalantly. “We could always just skip work. You know, pretend we’re working from home?” he teased.
You playfully shoved him. “Not funny,” you said with a soft laugh, though the frustration was still there. “But seriously, this is becoming a bit much. You’ve been saying for ages that we need to get out of this neighborhood.”
He took a step closer, his thumb brushing across your knuckles. “You really wanna move out of this area?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost a little hesitant.
You turned to face him, looking up into his eyes. There was a seriousness in his expression that made your heart skip a beat. “I love the memories we’ve made here, but the buses are a nightmare. And we don’t even live that far from each other anymore…” You sighed. “I don’t know. I think I might be ready for a change. Something a bit quieter. Closer to our workplaces.”
There was a brief silence as Beomgyu let the words sink in. He stood there for a moment, his hand still in yours, before a smile spread across his face. “You know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ve been thinking about something too…”
You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. “What’s that?”
Beomgyu’s smile grew, his eyes glinting with excitement. “What if we, uh, moved into an apartment closer to work? Somewhere we could both call our place… together?”
Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. “What do you mean?” you asked, trying to hide the sudden rush of emotions.
“I mean…” he trailed off, his voice suddenly softer. “I know we’ve been living separate lives in our own places, but what if we took the next step? What if we moved in together, like a real couple? Maybe in an apartment just a few blocks away from our workplaces? We could make it our own… just us.”
Your breath caught in your throat as the gravity of his words settled over you. For a moment, you just stared at him, unsure if you’d heard him right.
But then, his hand gently cupped your cheek, and the sincerity in his gaze melted any doubt away. “What do you think? I’ve been saving up, and I thought… maybe it’s time. Time for us to be closer. To have our own space.”
Your heart was racing, your mind still trying to process everything Beomgyu had just said. You had dreamed about this moment, but hearing him actually say it out loud felt surreal. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” you whispered, the excitement bubbling up inside you.
“I am, if you say yes,” he replied, his voice full of sincerity, yet there was a hint of playfulness behind it.
You looked at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Now, how could I ever say no to that face?”
Beomgyu deadpanned, “You say no to me all the time.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s because your requests are ridiculous. We’re not having dino nuggets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We need some variety.”
“Mayo, ketchup, ranch,” Beomgyu replied nonchalantly, as if that was a reasonable combination.
You scrunched up your nose. “That’s gross.”
“And yet, you still kiss me,” Beomgyu said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips. “Unfortunately, I do.”
“Unfortunately?” he said, his voice dropping in pitch as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “You didn’t seem to complain last night.”
You immediately flushed, quickly shooting a look around to make sure no one was nearby. “No bed talk in a school zone, idiot,” you shot back, trying to stay serious but failing miserably.
He grinned even wider, leaning in a little closer. “There are no kids here.”
You pointed at him accusingly. “There’s one right here,” you said, laughing despite yourself.
Beomgyu threw his hands up in mock surrender, still chuckling. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave.” But his grin never faded.
You couldn’t help but laugh, the energy between the two of you so effortless, so right. It felt like two years of inside jokes, shared moments, and quiet affection were all wrapped up in this one little exchange. You took a deep breath, squeezing his hand tighter as the bus pulled up, and just before it came to a stop, you said, “So, where’s our new apartment gonna be, huh?”
“Well…call me crazy but I’ve already been looking up on some apartments for about a few weeks now and since we’re not in a rush–we’ll be working from home today, by the way,-- and we can check out this new apartment listing I saw.”
You rolled your eyes, thinking aloud, “Hm, I don’t know. Work is kinda my only time to get rid of you.”
“Get rid of me? Baby, you need me.” He said, smugly.
“Alright fine. Is it open right now?”
“The open house ends in 30 minutes we can make it in time.” Beomgyu mumbled, glancing over to his watch.
“Fine.” You grunted.
—
The two of you made your way to the apartment Beomgyu had told you about. A laundry room, an island counter, a big enough living room to do late night acrobatics (Beomgyu does that when he’s drunk sometimes)—it almost felt too good to be true. But as you wandered through the space hand in hand, inspecting every corner, it wasn’t just good. It was perfect. The rent was within budget, and the apartment was a short walking distance from both your workplaces. It felt like everything was falling into place.
Until it wasn’t.
“No. NO!”
Both of you turned sharply toward the doorway, where Yeonjun stood with a look of pure horror on his face.
“I’m not having you two rabbits as neighbors,” he declared dramatically, crossing his arms. “I’ve already suffered enough when I stay over at Beomgyu’s place.”
“We never ask you to stay over,” Beomgyu shot back, rolling his eyes. “You choose to do it.”
Yeonjun scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at you. “It’s not my fault she runs my social media page and always posts updates late at night!”
You shrugged innocently. “Well, if we’re neighbors, we could communicate much more easily, don’t you think?”
Yeonjun narrowed his eyes. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t possibly have the world’s most annoyingly clingy couple living next door to me. It’s a nightmare scenario.”
Beomgyu sighed dramatically and stepped forward, throwing an arm around Yeonjun’s shoulders. “Yeonjunnie~,” he cooed, tilting his head and batting his eyelashes. “I love you.”
You grinned, quickly sliding to Yeonjun’s other side and clinging to his arm. “We love you~,” you added, mirroring Beomgyu’s syrupy tone.
Yeonjun looked utterly betrayed, glancing between the two of you as though you’d just sentenced him to a lifetime of torment. “I’m calling Taehyun and asking him to raise the rent,” he grumbled, attempting to shake you both off.
Beomgyu gasped, clutching his chest as if he’d been mortally wounded. “You’d betray me like this? After everything we’ve been through?”
“Everything we’ve been through? We’re only friends because this freak decided to date another freak,” Yeonjun retorted, glaring at the two of you.
“Hey!” you pouted, crossing your arms. “Don’t say that. He’s a cute little freak though, isn’t he?” you added with a grin, reaching over to pinch Beomgyu’s cheeks.
“I’m going to throw up,” Yeonjun groaned, looking genuinely pained.
“Don’t do that on my new carpet,” Beomgyu warned, straightening up and swatting your hands away.
“What do you mean, your new carpet—wait…no.” Yeonjun’s eyes widened in horror.
“Yes.” Beomgyu smirked smugly. “Hi neighbour!”
“Fuck this shit! I’m moving out,” Yeonjun declared, throwing his hands in the air and storming toward the door.
“Love you too, Yeonjunnie~,” Beomgyu called after him, laughter bubbling in his voice.
“Enjoy your new carpet,” Yeonjun shot back, slamming the door behind him.
—
Beomgyu sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a paintbrush like it was a weapon, his cheek already smeared with a streak of light blue. “Baby, stop!” he warned, narrowing his eyes at you.
“You painted my face first?!” you exclaimed, holding up your own paintbrush, dripping with pale yellow.
Before he could react, you swiped the brush across his nose, leaving behind a bright streak. Beomgyu gasped dramatically, dropping his brush to grab yours, but you jumped up and dodged, laughing.
“Come back here!” he yelled, chasing after you around the room.
You yelped, trying to escape, but he caught you around the waist and spun you around, both of you laughing so hard you could barely breathe. “Hm, I win.” he said triumphantly, dipping his finger in paint and smearing a heart on your cheek.
“Gyu!” you squealed, trying to wriggle free, but he only held you closer, grinning at his handiwork.
“Perfect,” he declared, his face close to yours now. His grin softened as he looked at you, his hand resting on your cheek. “Okay, you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever painted.”
Your laughter faded into a warm smile, your heart fluttering. “You’re such a dork,” you whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.
You looked up at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and dipped your hands into the blue paint. Pressing your palms gently against his lips, you smirked. “How about we make green?” you teased.
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, dipping his fingers into the yellow paint and smearing it across your lips in retaliation. “Challenge accepted,” he said with a grin.
“We’re definitely going to get serious stomach pains from toxic paint,” you muttered, unable to hide your laugh.
He leaned in anyway, pulling you closer as his hands rested gently on your waist. His lips pressed against yours, the faint, messy blend of colors forgotten in the warmth of the kiss.
After a few more playful smears of paint and an awful lot of kisses, the two of you sat on the floor, finally taking a breather. Beomgyu pulled out a small wooden frame from one of the boxes, holding it up with a sheepish smile.
The bright yellow headphones sat perfectly preserved in the shadow box. “I thought we could hang this on the wall,” Beomgyu said softly, his voice laced with nostalgia.
You stared at it, your heart swelling with emotion. “You kept them?”
“Of course,” he murmured, his tone quieter now. “It’s cute how you gave these to me on our first anniversary, don’t you think?”
“Well, you did say the theme was memories,” you said with a small smile. “And I think meeting you is one of my favorite ones.”
“Who are you, and what have you done to my mean and sarcastic girlfriend?” Beomgyu teased, his lips twitching into a playful grin.
You rolled your eyes. “Remember how sweet you thought I was in the beginning?”
“You were sweet. For like…the first two months,” he said, feigning deep thought. “Your true colors came out right after I introduced you to Soobin.”
“Oh, trust me, I’ve been mean way before that,” you laughed. “It’s called trying to impress the cute boy I liked.”
“You should win an Oscar for that performance,” he quipped.
“Against who? You?”
“Oh, please,” he shot back with mock indignation. “I’ve never pretended. I’m 100% authentic.”
“Laid back? Remember that? You were all like maybe I am laid back.”
“I am!”
“Baby, you scream and jump around the apartment until 2 a.m. You’re a menace.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m not laid back,” he said, grinning. “Just means I’m loud.”
“Very loud. You’ve been pretending to be a soft boy this entire time, haven’t you?”
“You caught me,” he admitted with a laugh, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips.
After a brief struggle with the frame, he finally managed to hang it up on the wall. “Tada!” he announced proudly.
The two of you stepped back to admire it, your shoulders brushing as you stood close together. Beomgyu slid an arm around your waist and kissed the top of your head. “Welcome home, baby,” he murmured, his voice warm and tender.
“Welcome home, Gyu.”
#txt fic#txt oneshot#txt x reader#txt fanfic#txt fluff#txt imagines#txt scenarios#beomgyu x reader#tomorrow x together#choi beomgyu au#choi beomgyu x reader#choi beomgyu fluff#choi beomgyu fanfic#beomgyu x you#choi beomgyu x y/n#beomgyu x y/n
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Bryce has always been fond of Jay, so it was only inevitable that Leif would be asked about him. Over the phone, hiding the fact of their estranged relationship was easier, but in person Leif felt so exposed.
Transcript & Context:
Bryce: Louis is in blue and Harvey green, without these colours you can't tell them apart! [Leif looks at the photos while listening to Bryce talk about his life] Bryce: Well anyway, that's enough blabbering from me. How's your Jay doing? With the music and everything?
[In all honesty, Leif doesn't know, though it left him wondering if Bryce knew about their estranged relationship. He knows that Renee and Jay are close, but how much did they share? He managed a melancholic smile] Leif: Eh, same old. He's doing just fine without me, what about Renee?
Bryce: Doing amazing! She's going back to work next month. Man, I had doubts about her being a detective, you know how dangerous it can be. Have I told you this before? A year of studying history then changed to criminology and I said are you sure sweetie? But she was adamant about it. Billy being there makes me more at ease-
Bryce: …That's her dream job, can't get in the way, can I? And look where she is now! [Leif felt punched in the gut. He bought the record label for Jay's dream and that was it. No contact at all] Leif: Hey are you free this weekend? Let's go out to eat somewhere.
Bryce: OoOohhh Leif Pollock, are you asking me out for dinner? Leif: …[chuckles] You're the same as always Bryce. Bryce: I'll take that as a compliment mate. Text us the details and I'll let Leilani know too!
Writer's note: Leif doesn't want to admit to Bryce that he has been a bad father to Jay. The last time he heard about him was with Miracle then went on to buy the record label (1/2/3). Leif didn't bother to make contact, nor did Jay, so that's why he knows nothing about how he is doing in the time that has passed. Also if you know me, I pay too much attention to detail in my posts and am very picky with my ages and timeline lmao. All the events from here to now, happen in 3 years which in my head are the red squares in @/duusheen posts (saying this because you are getting a glimpse into Leif's perspective with Bryce being here and them being good friends and Leif should be old but we keep quiet about that shh) and time jumps between my posts vary from hours to months or happen simultaneously!
The only unrealistic thing with timing are the cases, which I want to span over the generation. This is a whole lot of unnecessary rambling, but yeah, my thought process 🤓
#ts4#sims 4#ts4 gameplay#ts4 legacy#postcard legacy#postcard gen 3#bryce reichmann#leif pollock by duusheen#someone tell me to shut up with my rambling. me and my ages🫣😂#i cant help it! now im thinking ok the twins are 3 months old and vincent and renee are 30! its not: you a teen you are adult#but look at this post! bryce and his bryceness 😂 i missed it terribly#always i have brolationships in my legacies!!!! they are the best
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do u have headcanons of how do you think Shadow and Maria celebrating each other's birthdays now knowing they've been together for 3 years🥺
Hello, my dear!❤️✨
I’m more than happy to give you some headcanons about Shadow and Maria’s birthday!
Since Shadow didn’t necessarily have a birth, Maria has come up with possible days for Shadow to celebrate. There’s the day that he fully emerged from the meteorite, the day that he left his bio-chamber, and the day that they’ve met. Maria leans more to the day that they’ve met due to celebrate the birth of their friendship.
One of the friendship bracelet that Maria wears is one that Shadow has made for her. It took multiple attempts to make, as well as a slew of swear words trying to figure a pattern and the size of her wrist. He wanted to surprise her, but needed help with the knot. She never once took it off.
For one birthday, Maria gifted him a collector’s set of Sherlock Holmes novels to read when/if he has downtime from testing. What she didn’t anticipate was that Shadow would read the entire collection in one night with a list of questions to ask her about the characters. That’s when she knew that he had a love for books and mysteries.
For one birthday, Maria had a wonderful idea for bake Shadow a chocolate cake in the bunker’s kitchens. She made sure that she could sneak in without anyone noticing her and create the delicious cake that she envisioned in her mind (it had all the bells and whistles with every candy topping on it and sparklers). Long story short, Maria is not allowed to bake in the kitchen by herself anymore. The kitchen cannot take anymore fires and holes through the ceiling.
Shadow, being very small and having no money, tried his best to make Maria a drawing for her birthday once year. He’s not very good at drawing, but he draws excellent box-y figures that represent the two of them. Maria’s favorite drawing that he’s made was the two of them together riding a dinosaur through New York City.
Maria loves to take photographs of the two of them on their birthdays. She takes a “healthy” amount of them from the hour of her waking up, to the highly blurry photos of Shadow trying to run away from the flash, and to them devouring cakes by themselves. Shadow is very fortunate that Maria did. He keeps the ones that he found in the crater close to his heart.
For Shadow’s birthday, Maria hoped to start the tradition of getting Shadow a jacket with a patch that correlates with the year that an album came out (due to his newfound love of music). He has three that Maria made herself for him to wear on a letterman jacket.
Since Shadow can’t leave the bunker. He gets discouraged over the idea of trying to find Maria something to give on her birthday. He wants to give her something to show his appreciation for her being a great friend and sister to him, but always struggles on what to do. That is… until he noticed one of the scientists making paper stars while he was in a testing session. He made multiple paper stars to put in a jar, plucked a quill out from his head, and gifted a jar of glowing stars for her to keep. “It’s so you can continue to make wishes,” as he said to her. (This also plays off the paper stars that Maria makes for Shadow whenever he’s feeling down).
Maria’s idea birthday cake is a replica of the melting cake from Disney’s Sleeping Beauty with different flavors of cake in each tier, as well as sparklers. Shadow is perfectly content with a box of Razzles (his favorite candy), but absolutely takes chocolate cakes. Although chocolate cupcakes and dirt cups are easy to steal and are a close second.
The best birthday that the two have ever had was when they’ve spent the day together in the blanket fort. The two watched movies and ate snacks, and created a bucket list of all of the places that they would have loved to travel to. While his list may have a few lines, he appreciates her three page list of all of the places and things to do. After awakening from stasis, Shadow makes sure to fulfill all of the things on her birthday bucket list. He makes sure to especially do a few on the day of her birth to celebrate her life lived.
Post in Reference to Years that SCU!Ark Siblings knew each other for
#sonic movie 3#sonic movie#sonicmovie3spoilers#sonic movie 3 spoilers#sonic spoilers#sonicspoilers#ark siblings#shadow the hedgehog#maria robotnik
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I should really make a non music blog so that people who like my music don’t get bombarded by random unrelated stuff but this is like tangentially related sort of so whatever
God I just love Mal Du Pays. I am always a sucker for “the enemy is you / the enemy is a manifestation of some part of you” trope in any media but MDP has by far gotta be one of the best applications of it I’ve ever seen.
I mean even just the design of it is brilliant. Obviously inverting a characters colors to get the evil / darker version isn’t anything new for this trope, but ISAT is unique in that you have quite literally been STARING AT MDP THE WHOLE GAME, every single time you die and every single time you loop back. Turning the non diegetic game over screen into a diegetic encounter is incredibly clever and immediately gives MDP that sense of crushing pressure that makes it so memorable.
Also literally any game where the game over music is later established as the motif of a character automatically just wins me over by default. It’s such an effective tool in immediately conveying just what MDP is, even before any of the dialogue starts. It’s the end of this journey. It’s the pain of a home you’ve never known. It’s an entire universe collapsing in on you at once. It’s the end. It’s the end. It’s the end.
And I think, it’s a little Fucked Up, that Siffrin’s sadness looks identical to him. Every other sadness we see in the game is very distinctly not human in appearance, incredibly abstract and inhuman pretty much all around the board. But Mal Du Pays? The sadness of our main character? Pretty much the same. Literally a color swap. I think that’s incredibly telling. A being born of Siffrin’s grief and pain and agony, and the form it takes is his own silhouette.
Thematically, it’s very On The Nose that Siffrin’s worst enemy is simply himself, but at the same time, it’s exactly what you expect. I remember getting to MDP for the first time, seeing Siffrin walk through the void and just… knowing what would come next. Of course it would be another him. For Siffrin, his hell is himself. This nightmarish half-life, devoid of a past and with nothing but a quickly collapsing future, his worst impulses and fears and agonies and pains personified, and all it looks like is his shadow. Of course, what else could be here, at his lowest of lows, but a reflection? Of course there would be nothing here but you. It’s always only ever been you. Mal Du Pays is a mirror. A mirror that hates you like you do, that loathes you like you loathe yourself. In the worst, most monstrous way possible, it tells you exactly what you’ve been telling yourself your whole journey. And so you believe it, let it sink its words into your skin and bury you in the misery. Because maybe then, maybe when you finally give in, it won’t hurt anymore.
(A cold comfort is still, however little it may be, a comfort.)
And then you’re saved. The King is defeated, your friends came back for you, you manage to come up for air again. But it’s not enough. It’s never enough. Everything is still coming to an end. You’re still going to be all alone. And so, you sink again.
Notice how Bigfrin doesn’t have a face in this panel? This is Siffrin at their most self destructive, most desperate, lower than lower than low. And in a way, I think that by quite literally looking like the Sadness they nearly created, they’re symbolically drawing a parallel there. Siffrin fully embraces what Mal Du Pays represented, to the point that their new form looks just like it. Even if they didn’t manifest MDP, they are just as horrible. After all, the mirror goes both ways. Mal Du Pays looks just like Siffrin, but that also means that Siffrin looks just like Mal Du Pays. And maybe, in Siffrin’s head, they’re one and the same. Maybe they’ve always been.
Oh god it’s 1 in the morning. I did not mean to make this that long lmao w h o o p s
uhhhhhh in summary tldr mdp is very good isat is also very good play isat
(also if you want more MDP content, I sort of wrote a whole song about it. So listen to that if you’d like. Im goin to bed)
#in stars and time#isat#isat mdp#isat mal du pays#in stars and time spoilers#isat spoilers#isat act 5 spoilers#isat siffrin#in stars and time siffrin#another post in which I use my music blog for Definitely Not Music#can you tell I’m normal about this game yet#I’m so normal#he says while staring into the bathroom mirror white knuckling the sink
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Maintenance
Pairing: ceo!Jeong Jaehyun x afab!Fem Reader
Synopsis: You worked at an extremely successful Marketing company in the big city of Chicago. Fresh out of college, you were able to land such a high paying job, just for it to not be enough for you. You valued the more expensive things in life, and there was only one man who could provide that for you, Jeong Jaehyun.
Warnings: smut, (18+ continent mdni), smoking, corruption kink(?), reader is a bit bratty.
Word Count: 8.7k (;-;)
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You wanted a promotion. Scratch that. You needed this promotion. Anyone else would’ve been satisfied with the amount of money that you make. You’re only 25, working as a marketing consultant almost fresh out of college.
Simply put, you were very skilled in university and had amazing internship experience. It’s only been about two years of you at this South Korean-based company, its branches have finally reached the States, landing you a great opportunity to work in the big city of Chicago and be grateful enough to live alone.
But, even with the amazing pay and benefits the job comes with, you want more. You’re one to spoil yourself and live a luxurious life as a 25-year-old woman making more than the nation's average. You never came to work with your nails undone, a hair out of place. Instead, you came in the sleekest heels with the highest quality blouses and skirts. You catch eyes from all around when you step into the office. The men and women in every quarter acknowledge you daily.
“Y/N, I love your suit today.”
“Y/N, your purse is so beautiful, I wish my husband could afford that.”
“Your hair is always so beautiful, send me your stylist”.
Just several things you hear daily. However, your maintenance is becoming a bit too high. Your budgeting is shifting, and you’re beginning to realize that your maintenance can only be upheld with a higher salary. And what better way to do that? A raise simply wouldn’t cut it.
But, why not head for a position that offers 6 figures after the first year? Yes. You decided you were going to run for Vice President of Marketing Consulting at your company, that way with a little bit of the extra money, you can sit back and monitor everyone else in your company. You’ve always been one to express your opinion on anything going on, so why not get paid more for your input?
Applications were to have been submitted earlier this month, and of course, you were one of the first to get that done. Your boss, Jeong Jaehyun, has always praised that aspect of you. You never slacked or procrastinated, you’ve always shown that you were serious about your job and put in your best effort.
Earlier this month, you knocked on the door to his office, all the way on the 17th floor of the sky-rise building he owned. “Come in please.” you heard the assuring tone through the thick wooden doors. You pushed the golden handle and walked into the office, lit with beautiful warm lights, the room was filled with huge windows, cleaned twice a week per his request. Filing cabinets galore, the smell of coffee, and soft jazz music playing off his Alexa speaker. He acknowledged your presence once he heard the clacking of your heels approach further.
“Ah, Ms. Y/N, I almost forgot you were coming today. Is this your application?” He asked, motioning towards the portfolio in your hands. “Yes sir, I know we had about a week left to submit it, so I just needed to get this out the way.” You smiled softly, placing the portfolio in his hands. He nodded agreeing with your state, and gazed over the portfolio.
“You know, Y/N, you’re very brave for going after a position like this at such a young age, the competition won’t be light. What’s influencing you to go this route?” He asked like it was a simple question, setting your portfolio into a cabinet next to him, leaning back into his chair, cocking his head to the side.
He folded his hands over his lap, after motioning you to sit in the soft office chair across his desk. You cleared your throat, smoothing your skirt, sitting on the chair, and sitting up as straight as you could.
“Well, you see, I want to explore my expertise and bring everything I have to offer this job, Sir. I admire everything that goes on here and I would love to play a bigger role.” You said, in your soft but assuring voice. Even though what you said was truthful, you wanted it to sound more convincing than the tone that was coming out.
Jaehyun giggled slightly and put his head down facing his hands. Almost in disbelief. You cocked your head and furrowed your brows, genuinely trying to follow the actions of your supervisor. “Ms. Y/N, your answer sounds so rehearsed, it’s almost like you’re playing this out to be the interview,” he says calmly after regaining his breath from the laughter. “You’re young, you’re single, what business would somebody like you want going out to be the boss of a bunch of egotistical men? You’ll drain yourself by the time you’re 30.”
You furrow your lips into a tight line and try to suppress a sigh. He was right. These men don’t want to be bossed around by a woman like you. At least not in this setting. Will you even be taken seriously? Will people acknowledge you as a higher-up? You’re as old as some of these men’s daughters. Would it be selfish to take this opportunity from another person who might need this money?
“I need the money Mr. Jeong.” you finally caved in. It sounded almost disappointing that you were admitting to such a thing. Jaehyun’s eyes dropped as well as his smile. He looked down a bit awkwardly, almost like he said something offensive, and realized the severity of the situation.
A few moments pass, and he inhales a breath before leaning in closer over the table. “Excuse my ignorance Ms. Y/N, but every day you come into the office looking like a model. It sounds a little cliche and inappropriate coming from your boss, but your documents tell me you’re single and live comfortably, your salary pay is above average, your hair is never out of place, and you drive a 2024 Hyundai outside, if I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re doing perfectly fine.” It sounded like a lecture in all honesty.
He was right, you were doing amazing on your own, and you could afford almost anything comfortably. You’re being greedy, at least that’s what you felt Jaehyun was portraying. You shook your head in acknowledgment of his words. “Yes sir, my mistake. I’ll withdraw my application.” you caved in, too afraid to look him in the eyes. You slowly began to rise from the chair, noticing your vision began to get a little blurry from the tears threatening to fall.
“Ms. Y/N.” his voice came out sharp, but not harsh, as he also arose from his chair. He looked at you with the same soft gaze as before, you blinked a few tears back and met his eyes. “Yes sir?”
“Do you have any plans tonight?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Why could he possibly need to know that? Your eyes told it all, but he still wanted to hear you.
“Uh. Well, no sir I’m not. May I ask why? Do you need me to stay after today?” you asked with a confused pitch in your voice. It almost came off as a bit rude some may argue, but with Jaehyun being your higher-up, the idea of him seeing his past work hours is as rare as a blue moon.
It’s understandable why your mind is racing accordingly. “I want to see your apartment,” he said ever so bluntly. “I want to see how you live, I want to make sure the assumptions I’m dropping on you are correct.” he continues, crossing his arms. Is he trying to intimidate you? Because if he is, it’s working.
You cleared your throat once again and shook your head in approval. You stood straight up, raising your head higher and forcing a small smile, to distract him from your nervousness. “Oh. Well, I guess that’s okay. I’ll have to clean a bit, but I could see you for company tonight around maybe 8?” your voice was as convincing as a 5-year-old who broke something and pretended to be oblivious.
“Great. It’s a date. See you tonight Ms. Y/N.” he smiled again finally since his laughing fit, of course, his dimples on display for your eyes. “Yeah, a date.” you blushed like an idiot, before collecting yourself, clacking your heels as you almost sped walk to his door. The sigh of relief that left you after closing his door was almost as loud for anyone passing to hear.
“Fuck.” you cursed to yourself.
8:33 PM
A sudden knock approached the door of your apartment. You arose from your on the couch, wearing a matching lounge set with your Ugg slippers, going to the door. You gazed out the peephole to be met with the familiar face of your boss. You took a deep breath, wiping your hands on your top, alleviating the sweat that was building, opening the door. On the other side, Jaehyun stood in all his glory. Black slacks, a loose white button-up, and his hair a bit more ruffled than how he usually maintains it.
“Good evening Ms. Y/n.” he smiled.
“Good evening Mr. Jeong”. You responded breathlessly. He looked handsome, no denying that. Even though it's obvious he's just gotten through with the workday, he seems more relaxed and approachable.
“May I come in?” he asked, hand motioning towards the door frame. “It’s getting kind of cold out here, I left my blazer in the car,” he explained with a shy smile, dimples coming to display.
“Oh, of course. I’m sorry.” you nodded stepping to the side and allowing the man to enter. He slipped off his work loafers and laid them neatly down by the front door. His eyes browsed around the living space with a grin creeping.
Your apartment was warm, with beige walls, paintings gracing the walls, vases filled with plants, a nice big rug, and even some figurines of your favorite niches laid around the hard surfaces.
“Your apartment smells nice.” Jaehyun acknowledged before having a seat on your cremé colored couch. “It’s almost exactly how I could've imagined it to be Ms. Y/N.”
You bit back on your lip nervously, before walking to finally sit on the opposite end of your couch. Your eyes were too shy to meet your boss’s gaze. Of course, you've had men over, even though it wasn't a lot of men, you're not a stranger to having the presence near you.
But, your handsome, respectful, polite boss, who seemed to never have a social life outside of his job? In your humble abode? Wow. It’s like having a first date all over again. Your train of thought was gone before he ever stepped in, barely being able to focus on anything that was not his looks. Reality snapped back at you when you felt a piercing gaze hit the right side of your body. It’s only then you remember that he bestowed a compliment upon you.
“Oh, right yes thank you. Sorry, I just blanked out for a minute.” you rambled out quickly before turning your body to face his direction. “Uhm, I’m sorry I’m so rude. Would you like anything to drink or eat? I have fruit and uhm alcohol, maybe a glass of wine I…”
“Just a bottle of water if you have it Ms. Y/N”. he interrupted with a soft giggle. He glanced over again to your kitchen area filled with a neat array of decor and fine china peering through the glass cabinets. “You know, even I don’t have any dishes that fancy in my house. Do you ever have guests over?” he questioned.
You stood up from your seat keeping your head down as you walked into your kitchen, opening the fridge and retrieving a bottle of water. “Oh, I don’t have many guests over at all, I just like to keep pretty things you know,” you admitted in an assuring tone before walking back to hand the bottle to him. “Also, outside of work, you don’t have to call me ‘Ms.’” you told him a bit quietly, you made sure your tone wasn’t coming off in a rude manner of course. “Just Y/N will suffice now.”
Jaehyun’s smile grew right before your eyes, his hand lightly grasping the bottles as his fingers hovered over yours for a brief moment. “Okay Y/N, well then maybe with this new comfortability we’re coming to, it'll be easier to talk to you about this situation I had in mind.” Jaehyun opened the bottle and took a quick swig of the water before placing it down on the coffee table in front of him.
You blushed like a fucking fool at the slight touch the man laid on you, staring at him a bit too hard watching him drink the water. How did he make such a simple action look so erotic?
You gulped slightly before going back to your original position on the couch to face him. “Uhm, okay well what did you want to talk to me about sir?” you cocked your head to the side laying your curious expression on him.
Jaehyun took one last slip of the water again, before letting out a sigh of satisfaction. He shifted his body towards you while he cleared his throat. “To put it simply, I think it would be extremely ignorant and difficult for me to give you that promotion.”
“Some people have been with the company longer and have more experience in that field than you do Y/N. It wouldn’t be fair for them, and I don’t want to damage my credibility”. He simply spewed out the statements as if it wasn’t one of the worst things you could’ve heard.
Your head naturally fell at his words. He was right. No need to argue, plead, or beg. Nothing. It was the undoubtable truth. Facts that have been proven time and time again. Still, the tears in your eyes welled and your expression fell. God, can a girl just get a little fucking help? You don’t ask for much, all you want to do is just spend the money you make as lavishly as you can.
You work like a dog and spend like a queen, it’s not like you expect all this to just be handed to you. You deserve more and you always tell yourself that. The frustration was becoming too much for you. Tears fell slowly but silently.
“Y/N, I understand how difficult this is for you. As your higher-up, I want to offer you another solution to your problem.” Jaehyun said barely above a whisper leaning closer to you, laying a soft hand on your thigh.
The sudden motion caught you off guard looking at his hand. You wiped your face with the back of your hand before looking up to meet his eyes. You stared at him with a small sense of hope wondering before you what his solution could be. “Maybe, I could sponsor you Y/N,” he suggested softly.
The stare on your face was as blank as a damn white sheet of paper. What? What does he mean by sponsoring you? “Like, a sugar baby?” you asked dumbfounded. He sighed softly before closing the gap between you two even more.
“I don’t like that term, I don’t expect the sex or forcing you into doing anything like that. I just, you’re very pretty Y/N. Simply, I’m drawn to how you present yourself. I can’t express to you how good it would feel to be the man who bought all the things you wore.”
He whispered gently interlacing his hands into yours. His thumb graced the back of your hand as he looked into your expression. “You would look so pretty in the clothes that I buy you and the jewelry I pick out for you. You’d look so pretty just for me.” he continued out trying to get a read on your face.
You blinked back the rest of the tears and held his hand a little tighter. Your lips curved slightly to give him a weak smile and meet his eyes finally. “Well, what would you like in return Mr. Jeong?” you asked softly. To be honest, as handsome as your boss is, you’ve never been the type to see him in such a romantic aspect, at least not yet.
You don’t know exactly how far you’re willing to go in your agreement. Jaehyun’s head turned to the side to stare at you with his attentive eyes. “That’s up to you really Y/N. Just show me that you’re appreciative of what I’m doing for you. Give me your attention. It’ll be enough for me.” he told you in all his honesty.
Jaehyun was like most men in his field. Lonely. Whether they were married in loveless relationships, or divorced and used for others' advantages, Jeong Jaehyun had nobody outside of work. Other than his other extremely rich male friends, they’re always boasting about having sugar babies or models that they spoil.
Some say it’s pathetic, but for Jaehyun, it’s perfect for him. He’s not asking for devotion or a relationship. Just some time. Just some affection. And in return, he’d do what he could to keep you as happy as you made him. Is that so bad?
You nodded understandably. Giving off a small smile you tugged gently on Jaehyun’s hand, squeezing it before meeting his gaze. “I think this is something I’d be interested in Mr. Jeong,” you assured him. Your tone was soft and gentle, but warm and assuring. This is what you want. Money. Spoiling. Gifts. And best of all, the price was your choice. Be respectful and kind, and he’ll do whatever you wish for. This is a dream coming true for you.
Jaehyun’s smile was bright and tender. He acknowledged your words, taking your cheek and cupping it in his hand gently. “I appreciate you so much Ms. Y/N. We can discuss any rules or suggestions you have at any time. You have my number, I’ll be in touch with you.” he stated.
He stood up gently, dusting himself off and grabbing the water bottle you issued to him earlier. “I better get going, I do have a pretty lady to work with early tomorrow morning and I wouldn’t miss that for anything in the world.” he teased jokingly, obviously the pretty lady in question being you.
You stood up as well, shaking your head. “Your flirting is crazy Mr. Jeong.” you softly chuckled, leading him towards the door to your apartment and opening it. “I’ll see you tomorrow sir, please be safe.” you issued your farewell respectfully. Jaehyun made his way towards the door, stopping in the frame to lay a soft kiss on your forehead.
“Like I said Ms. Y/N, I’ll be in touch. Goodnight,” he whispered before heading out the door of your apartment.
You closed the door softly. You sighed to yourself and began to think about everything happening. Your heart was fluttering and your head spun with all the possibilities that could take place with you and your boss. Letting your imagination run free, the rest of the night went by swiftly as you went to bed for your nightly rest.
9:14 AM
The following morning, you enter your cubicle in the office building like usual. Your hair in its signature style, wearing your favorite perfume, and a soft gloss complimenting your complexion. You began the day with a hot caramel-flavored coffee at your side as you typed away at your computer, answering emails and looking at logs and dates for the future. A ring on your cellphone shortly came after some time into your work. The contact was labeled no other than “Mr. Jeong.”
You smiled and took a soft breath before answering it, voice quiet as you didn’t want to distract any of your colleagues. “Hello?”
“Ms. Y/N, could you drop by my office today? I wanted to discuss something regarding our agreement,” he responded softly into the phone. His voice was warm, as per usual. However, hearing it over the phone now with your new arrangement exudes a new feeling in you. Something sudden and seductive.
You slid out of your chair and walked quickly to the office of Jaehyun’s, knocking a few times before you heard his voice telling you to come in. You walked into the office with a bright smile on your face before sitting in front of him in the guest chair. “Good morning Mr. Jeong.” you beamed.
Jaehyun’s dimples were on display, smiling at your presence. He looked at your outfit, your blouse a soft pink shade today with a black pencil skirt. “Good morning Ms. Y/N, you look beautiful today. As you always do.” he complimented casually. “I called you in because I wanted you to read over this, Tell me what you think.” his hands went to his printer, and a few sheets of paper came out.
He grabbed the warm stack of papers and stapled them together before placing them in front of you. The title of the documents is labeled as “contract.” You cocked your head to the side before skimming through the items.
Contract
This document reads the legal terms allowed between the pair of Y/N L/N and Jeong Jaehyun. In regards to the limits, expectations, and direct references of their relationship….
As you read on, a few things caught your attention. “Details of our relationship will not be discussed with colleagues or anyone in our team.” Understandable. “If either factor in the pair decides to leave the agreement, the contract will still uphold any rules regarding discussion of the relationship.” Okay, so basically an NDA right? But the major rule highlighted caught your attention.
“This pair will not conduct any exclusive activities of a relationship, including but not limited to being officially boyfriend and girlfriend, marriage, or sex.”
Your eyes opened widely. Jaehyun took notice of the action, leaning into your gaze. “Anything wrong?” he asked, furrowing his brows. You blinked a few times before clearing your throat and meeting his gaze. “No! Nothing's wrong at all sir. It’s perfect how well thought out this is.” you perked giving an awkward smile. Everything in the agreement was understandable.
You memorized everything that stood out and narrowed your options. “So, everything here is just for legal purposes I assume?” you ask tilting back up to acknowledge Jaehyun.
He nodded accordingly. “Just in case we have any issues since we’re in a work setting, I don’t want to risk being sued or ridiculed in case something happens. Not that it will, but I’m just being smart,” he assured. He rummaged in a cup, hanging you a black pen. “I’ve already signed here, sign down here on the line. You can keep that copy, I’ll just have to copy it in the machine before you go.” he motioned towards the red line. Above, was his signature acknowledging he agreed to all terms of the contract.
You took the pen from his grasp, wrote your signature on the line, and handed him the sheet to copy. He smiled softly, slipping the paper into the copier machine, and faxing out more sheets. He handed you the original copy with your signature. “Thank you. Here’s your pen.” you handed the item back to him with a soft grin, awaiting his response.
He smiled, softly removing the pen from your grasp and setting it back. “Now, Y/N I wanted to show you a bit of my appreciation for signing up to do this.” he began gently, he dipped down under his desk revealing a sleek black shoebox. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped, covering your lips before a gasp could escape. The box read “YSL.” You shook your head and extended your hand out. “Mr. Jeong, I can’t accept this, I don’t even buy this for myself.” you began protesting politely.
His eyebrows furrowed as he shrugged his shoulders. “That’s the point Ms. Y/N. Allow me to buy these things for you.” He extended his arms over the desk, hinting for you to open the box. You reluctantly slipped your hands over the item, lifting the black lid. Inside the box held the sleekest kitten heel with gold YSL embellishment on the center.
You looked up to him with the brightest smile you’ve ever worn in that office. “Mr. Jeong, I appreciate this so much. I can’t believe you did this, I’m so thankful,” you repeated. Your voice was laced with excitement and gratitude and it exuded something Jaehyun, something that he knew he needed to see more of.
“Try them on love.” he insisted, his tone sultry as his voice barely became above a whisper. He lifted from his seat walking over to you. He spun you lightly in the chair to face him. He took the box and got down on one knee in front of you. You weren’t wearing your stockings today, as you had on a long pencil skirt. His hand gently caressed your bare leg lifting to his chest. He gently slipped the black flat off your foot, replacing it with the heel, repeating the same step for the other leg.
His touch was gentle, warm, and seductive. It was enough to spark that rare feeling of excitement and lust in you. This contract would be dreadful if he continued these actions with you. How could he ever expect that you wouldn’t want to have sex with him? Jaehyun looked as if he was constructed to be God’s favorite. His skin was clear and bright. His hair is thick and full of body. The dimples balanced his masculine appearance so well, that his body was toned perfectly. Everything was perfect about him. Sexually endearing.
Jaehyun gazed upon you carefully eyeing every ounce of you. How your hair was always neatly styled. How your makeup was soft and warm, your lips always a perfect shade of nude or glossed. Your eyes are soft and endearing. He knew exactly what he was doing when he was writing that contract. He knew exactly why he had to emphasize a no-sex clause. He wouldn’t be able to get enough of you.
You stood up from the chair taking a few steps in the heel. They were surprisingly very comfortable, even though you were good at walking in heels, you weren’t a stranger to the occasional pain they caused. Jaehyun lifted off the floor, tossing your black flats into the box before he bestowed it under his desk. He took you by the waist encouraging you to face him.
“I saw these in the store months ago and they did remind me of you.” he began as he inched closer to your face. His gaze trailed from your beautiful bright eyes down to your slightly exposed collarbone. “I couldn’t help myself from getting these for you once I found out you wanted to partake in this sponsorship,” he whispered.
You met his gaze shyly before giggling a bit to yourself subconsciously. “Thank you, Mr. Jeong. I’ll wear them as often as I can.” you continued. His gaze on you was dangerous. He was locked in, to say the least. The space between you two was slim to none, not that either of you mind. Your chest was to his as his lower body pressed closer against you.
“I want to see you in everything I get you more often,” he explained with a soft smile. His breath hitched gently as he felt the erotic feeling growing in his pants. Once he noticed it he politely turned away, pulling his touch away from you. He walked back over to the seat on his desk.
“You should get going Ms. Y/N, I’m sure your colleagues are wondering about your whereabouts.” he insisted with his regular tone of voice once again. You were caught off guard, but you decided not to overstep. You nodded your head shyly before walking to the door to exit. “Thank you, Mr. Jeong. I’ll see you soon.” you kindly bid your farewell before you are caught off guard once again by him saying your name.
“Yes sir?” you asked while your body stood in the door frame. “Please lock the door on your way out,” he answered as steadily as his voice allowed him to. Your eyes widened slightly but you didn’t refrain from doing what he said. Exiting the door, you made sure to twit the lock to the left heading back to your seat.
After the door locked, Jaehyun unbuckled his pants grabbing out his hard length. He wrapped his large rough hand around his dick and began pumping slowly and tightly. Only one thing on his mind. You.
“Mm… fuck Y/N.” escaped his lips countless amounts of times. For the record, no one saw him for the rest of that morning.
A few weeks pass of Jaehyun texting you and calling you every few days of the week. Usually, these conversations consisted of asking about each other's day, asking you about your favorite colors and sizes in clothes, and occasionally venting from both parties. When you came to your cubicle in the office, breakfast, and coffee would be waiting there for you. When you came home from work, a package from designer brands or flowers wrapped outside would be awaiting at your door frame. Messages would be attached to each gift from none other than Jaehyun of course.
“Saw this and it reminded me of you love.”
“Show me how this fits today Y/N.”
“You look so pretty in this love.”
All signed by J.JH. When it was time for a fill-in for your nails, Jaehyun would pick which color and design he would want you to wear, which you didn’t mind because coincidentally you both had similar tastes. When you wanted to go to the salon for a treatment or new style, he always sent double the amount that was needed. He loved spoiling you. He loved seeing you dolled up for him. And all you did in return was send him photos of you in everything he put you in.
When he bought you that new blazer for work, you wore it the next day. Every salon appointment, you flooded his messages with pictures of results. Even when you got your toes done, you sent him pictures of everything. The flowers he sent were watered daily in your apartment. You were truthfully grateful and appreciative of the life he was providing for you.
What did Jaehyun think of all this? It turned him on. Every picture flooded and his phone was immediately saved to his camera roll. He scrolled through your chats every night before bed, and every morning when he woke up. The smile on your face, the glow on your skin, and the perfume you wore were all caused by him. You were his. His muse, his doll, everything he needed. You were so kind and willing to show how much he was appreciated. The fact that he easily made you feel so loved and cared for was heaven to him.
9:59 PM
It was a Saturday night, you had the whole weekend off. You were sat in a red satin robe and some fuzzy slippers Jaehyun bought you a few weeks ago, in the living room of your apartment eating dinner while watching your favorite Netflix series. You were awaiting a package that Jaehyun alerted you about earlier in the week. It was supposed to have arrived last night but got delayed due to the weather. A message pinged your phone, checking the notification it was from Jaehyun.
Mr. Jeong❤️: hey beautiful girl, check outside your door now.
Mr. Jeong❤️: your package said it arrived about 5 minutes ago, send me pictures whenever you try it on <3.
You texted back an “okay❤️,” before jumping out of your seat to your front door. You opened the door and grabbed the package that was set directly outside. Bringing it into the house, you cut open the box to see that a pink and white striped box was inside. Victoria Secret. Your eyes widened. Jaehyun never bought you lingerie. Nothing even close. Your hands trailed over the box lifting the lid to see exactly what was graced inside.
White and lacy bra and panties set with laced socks to match. The bra was embroidered with gold clips adjustment straps and a bow directly between your cleavage. It was undoubtedly the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. You checked the back of the panties, it was a cheeky style. You took the item with you into your bedroom slipping it onto your body.
You went to the mirror and stared at yourself. You decided to keep your hair down and not put on any makeup since you were just going to send him a picture of your body. The lingerie hugged your curves perfectly and the white and gold contrast brought out your skin tone beautifully. You laid back in the bed and began posing seductively taking a plethora of photos to send to Jaehyun.
You: [sent 6 attachments]
You: wow, I can’t believe how pretty this is, thank you❤️.
10:23 PM
Jaehyun’s phone dinged. He was sitting on his balcony in a relaxed white tee and sweatpants smoking a cigarette while listening to his playlist off his speaker. He checked the phone and saw the pictures you blessed his phone with. His breath hitched as his heartbeat grew faster. He examined each picture slowly analyzing every inch of your body. He examined how your breasts sat perked in the bra. How glowy the white lace made your skin pop. How the thin lace barely covered your nipples.
Mr. Jeong❤️: I’m otw.
It sounded like a threat in all honesty. Jaehyun hadn’t been to your apartment since the day he proposed the sponsorship idea. Your mind was foggy. What do you do? What was he going to do to you? Would he finally break what’s in the contract? After pondering for a few moments, you hopped out of the bed and went into your bathroom. You graced a soft amount of makeup enhancing your features just in case he planned to fuck you. Finally.
Your mind raced vigorously taking in all the possibilities of what he could do to you. Would he be big? Would he tease you? The possibilities were endless. After popping a few dabs of blush and lipstick on, you grabbed your robe and pulled it around your skin. You headed towards your mirror taking more seductive pictures to send to him. If he was already feeling the pressure of wanting to fuck you, you wanted to grow that desire as much as you could before he got there.
You: [sent 4 attachments]
You: I hope u like these too :)
As Jaehyun was rushing out of his home, he checked the mirror pictures you sent him. His pants were tightening every second as he stared at you. You were enticing to him. There wasn’t a part of you that he didn’t feel enamored by, physically and emotionally. Your personality was sweet and polite. But your body was the sexiest thing he could ever lay his eyes on.
Mr. Jeong❤️: fuck the contract.
He jumped into his car and sped to your apartment. He knew your addresses by heart now making the 20-minute drive into 10 minute one. He arrived shortly knocking at your door.
You jumped up from your space in the bed strolling over to the door. As you opened it, Jaehyun’s presence filled the door frame eyeing you. His eyes were dark and hooded, his chest heaved up and down like he was out of breath. “Hello Mr. Jeong!” you greeted innocently with a smile. He smiled softly sizing you up and down. The way your body was out almost completely on display for him caught him in a trance. “Hello Y/N. May I come in?” he asked calmly. You moved to the side allowing him to step into your space, closing and locking the door behind you.
“What brings you here so late?” you asked curiously walking over closer to engulf his frame. He held you closely by your naked waist staring at your frame. “I had to see how beautiful my baby looked tonight,” he whispered inching dangerously close to your lips. Your eyes fluttered allowing him to grow closer, lips barely touching his. Your breath hitched at the contact.
“I look this beautiful just for you sir,” you whispered seductively against his lips. Jaehyun closed his eyes and crashed his lips against yours passionately. His grip on your waist tightened, causing him to pull you against his lower half. The friction between his body and yours created a hot sensation between you too. The tension in the room thickens. The sound of each other's lips smacking against each other filled the room.
You melted into the kiss yearning more for his touch. You wrapped your arms around his neck moaning gently at the friction he was creating by grinding your hips onto his erection. “M-Mr. Jeong,” you gasped between kisses trying to catch your breath. He ignored you. He completely took over your body, engulfing you in a deeper and longer kiss.
“Your bedroom, now,” he commanded. His voice was hoarse and breathing heavy. He only released you enough to have you lead him towards your room. He kept his hands close to your waist as you led the way. “Mr. Jeong, the contract what’ll happen if we break it?” you questioned stopping in your tracks as you stood in your doorframe. His eyes were still filled with lust, but his touch was reassuring and warm.
“We can worry about that later, we both want this. Don’t you Y/N?” he asked gently. His hands interlocked his fingers into yours, rubbing warm circles with his thumbs. “I do, but I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.” you continued quietly. He nodded pulling you into your bedroom and having you both stand adjacent to your bed. He finally let go of your waist staring down at your frame.
“Get down,” he commanded with a low and stern voice. You looked up with eyes widened in shock. You slowly got down onto your knees keeping direct eye contact with him. You kept your head tilted up as Jaehyun brought his hand to cup your cheek. He softly stroked your face with his thumb examining your soft features.
“You’re so pretty baby,” he whispered daringly. He pressed his thumb to your lips pulling them slightly ajar. “Open your mouth,” Jaehyun smirked watching as you obeyed him instantly. You maintained eye contact surprisingly not breaking at the dominance he reigned over you. He leaned down slowly spitting into your mouth catching you off guard. He watched as you reluctantly swallowed the drop he laid into your mouth, smirking at your reaction. “Such a good girl for me,” he cooed strumming your face.
You blushed at his actions feeling slightly embarrassed by how you could easily succumb to his wants. But, you couldn’t deny how much his dominance turned you on. The wetness pooling from your core was more than enough evidence. You slowly raised your hand up to his bulge poking through his sweats, palming everything Jaehyun had to offer.
He hissed loudly at the abrupt touch, grabbing your wrist. “Not yet baby,” he warned sternly jerking your hand away from his length. You whined annoyed at his actions. “Why not?” you questioned cocking your head up to him. He smirked at your whining, amused by how much audacity you had. “Because baby, we’ve established already who’s in control here haven’t we?” he asked rhetorically. He simultaneously pulled his sweatpants and black boxers down to his ankles, letting his erect length spring into the air.
It took everything in you not to gasp his size. You didn’t expect him to be so thick, his tip red and leaking with pre-cum. He stilled his hand under your chin, using his other hand to pump his length in front of you. Jaehyun moaned softly as he noticed you staring at him masturbating. It was hot. How infatuated you were with his body. How enticing it was for him to see you so needy and weak for him. He barely touched you, yet he knew how much of a hold he had on you. “Do you see what you do to me baby?” he hissed stroking himself faster.
“Seeing you get so pretty for me, how you always smell so good. How do I get to spoil you and nobody else? How you listen to me and be so good to me, it turns me on so much having a good pretty girl like you,” he praised breathing heavily in between each stroke. Jaehyun was covered already in a thin coat of sweat and his deep baritone voice laced your ears with pleasure. You wanted nothing more but to show him your appreciation thoroughly, how wonderful he made you feel.
You slowly grabbed his wrist, pulling his arm that cuffed his length directly into your mouth. He moaned hazily at the contact of your wet and warm mouth around his cock. He threw his head back instantly. Jaehyun watched as you took him all the way engulfing his length. He struggled to keep a steady breath or a calm face. Only shaky moans escaped his lips and the furrowing of his brows took over.
He scrunched his face in pleasure, taking the back of our head and bucking his hips roughly into your mouth. Gagging and humming filled the air as saliva drooled over your chin. He rutted against your mouth at a faster pace as you struggled trying to keep up with his desires. “Fuck baby,” he hissed lowly. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum in this pretty mouth of yours,” he warned cupping the back of your head with both strong hands now.
Your eyes were welling with tears as the back of your throat became tense and sore. He was being so rough with you. Like you were just a toy he could fool with and use for his sole pleasure. But essentially that’s what you were to him. A beautiful, loving, fuck toy. Just his. Only his. You hummed gently around his dick causing vibrations to hit around his entire length.
His eyes shut tightly before you felt a trickle of warm salty liquid fill your mouth. You struggled to swallow it, as his length was still fully engulfed into your mouth. He gently pulled away from your lips, wiping your soaking mouth dry with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry I was so rough Y/N,” he whispered timidly strumming your warm cheeks. “Are you okay?”
You nodded assuringly giving a small smile. “I’m okay Mr. Jeong, I promise.” You slowly rose from your knees making your way to sit on your bed. Your robe was slipping, your knees aching from sitting on the floor. Jaehyun eyed you, looking at how gorgeously the sweat from your head caused your hair to stick to your skin. Your shoulder and torso are exposed from the poorly secured robe you adorned.
“Baby,” he whispered walking to sit on the bed adjacent to you. You cocked your head up, noticing how closely he was inching towards your face. He slipped your robe off your shoulders, gently wrapping his arms around you again. You giggled noticing he still had on his shirt. Tugging at it gently you looked into his eyes. “Take this off for me Mr. Jeong,” you politely asked with a kind smile and pleading eyes.
He immediately obeyed doing just as you asked, removing his shirt in one swift motion. He pushed you gently having your back laid against the bed, as she hovered over you. He placed his knee gently before your wet clothed core. “You drive me so crazy Y/N,” he confessed as he placed open wet kisses across your neck.
You moaned softly at the sensation. His lips were soft yet filled with so much passion and force. His fingers laced around your throat squeezing lightly at the sides of your neck. His knee slowly dragged between your legs feeling how soaked your pussy is. “Wow baby, you’re this wet for me already? Were you thinking about how well I was going to fuck you, my love?” he rhetorically asked grinding his knee deeper between your clit.
You nodded your head obeying his words. You gasped as his grip tightened. “Yes, yes sir! I’ve been thinking about you fucking me for weeks. I want you so bad Mr. Jeong sir,” you screamed out each word as he deliberately kissed your rougher down between your cleavage. Jaehyun chuckled in amusement at your confession, placing your legs over his hips. He slipped your white panties to them staring at your seeping core.
“Yeah, baby? You thought about me taking care of you like this?” he questioned before slipping one of his long slender fingers inside of you, curling it feeling the inside of your walls. You arched your back in pleasure as your thighs shook at the feeling. He was already setting you off the edge, hardly even touching you.
Jaehyun watched as you squirmed beneath his touch, the feeling of wanting to completely ruin you was taking over him. Corrupting your perfect body, fucking you like the spoiled slut you were for him. His eyes were fluttering from the intense feeling building inside him. He sat on his knees pulling his finger out of you harshly, causing a whine of ache to escape from you.
“You’re such a good girl. Always showin' off for me,” he whispered looking dead into your eyes as he pumped his cock once again. “You’re so beautiful in this lingerie I bought you,” he continued. “Take your panties off for me darling,” he commanded quietly. You nodded profusely as you slipped the material off your thighs. He took the panties from your hand and swiftly threw them into the pile of clothes that he left on your floor.
You laid there half-naked just for him to explicitly see you. “Spread your legs and lift them for me.”
The command was so vulgar and dirty. He knew he had so much control over you. You’d do anything he said, anything he could ever ask for. You were obligated to. You were his.
You did as he commanded, legs up having your heat out for display. Jaehyun stared down at your wet cunt, dripping in arousal just for him. His gaze made his way back to your doe eyes. He hovered gently over you to lay a soft kiss on your beautiful lipstick-smudged lips before he rammed into you.
Your back arched instantaneously at the abrupt contact, you screamed out a long pleasure-filled moan as your arms flew to cling onto Jaehyun’s broad back. “Mr. Jeong please!” you begged. Jaehyun began to ram into you at a steady and deep pace, kissing down your neck in an attempt to calm you down.
You were anything but calm. The pleasure was immense. The speed was perfect. He stretched you out so well and filled you perfectly. The pleasure overthrew the pain by miles, it was incomparable to anything you’ve ever felt before.
Jaehyun himself was struggling to keep his composure as well. He was extremely vocal about how good you felt, groaning at every clench your body made. He thrusted deeply into your core causing waves of pleasure to take over him. “Mr. Jeong,” you breathed out weakly, “I-i can’t take it sir,” you complained out. He gripped his strong hand around your neck once more forcing your lips to meet his.
He kissed you deeply muffling your moans and your comments. “You can take whatever I give you baby,” he replied between your sunken wet kisses. He trusted faster into you, causing your face to scrunch up. “See baby? You’re taking it so well, you’re doing so good. Such a good girl for me. My pretty baby…” Jaehyun praised you every single moment he could. This was no exception.
You clenched around him so tightly, that he felt every inch of you. You didn’t run away from the love he was making for you, you were perfect for him. A warm and tight knot formed in your stomach. The sensation caused you to dig deeper, scratching red lines deep into your boss’s back. “Mr. Jeong, I think I’m going to cum, it feels too good!” you exclaimed again, your voice cracking and toes curled in the sensation he was causing you.
Jaehyun grabbed your hips holding you down as he somehow was able to ram into you faster, causing screams from the both of you. His body was covered in sweat. His abs glisten before your eyes, his head thrown back as every inch of his manhood disappears deep into your core. “Take it, baby, take it so well, I’m gonna cum with you,” he praised his voice deep and laced with passion.
After a few more deep thrusts, you felt your cum drip down your thighs. Your cheeks were red and flush, sweat covered your entire body. Curses fled from your mouth as you chased your high. Jaehyun was far from composed. He was a sweaty mess. He managed to pull out just in time before exploding over your abdomen.
He collapsed next to your body, breathing heavily. Jaehyun ran his fingers through his drenched and sweat-filled hair, turning to face you. You managed to cool off enough to meet his gaze and chuckle softly at him. “What was all that for Mr. Jeong?” you teased eyeing the tired man. He chuckled softly blinking a few times at you. “You deserved it silly,” he replied simply.
You shook your head not following what he meant. “I don’t know what you mean sir?”You propped your body up enough to rest your head on the palm of your hand. Jaehyun stared at you in silence for a few moments, taking in everything about you thinking to himself. “My job is to take care of you every way I can. You’re a bit high maintenance you know that Y/N?” he retorted softly engaging his attention on you.
“Ouch.” you fake winced at his words. Jaehyun smiled cheekily kissing your forehead and wrapping his arm around your torso. “You know what I mean baby. Allow me to treat you to the life you deserve.”
It wasn’t an option, he was going to. And he did.
For the next few months, Jaehyun continued doing exactly that. But recently, he treated you to rooftop dinners, movie nights, to wine tastings. Your sponsorship became more exclusive, he invited you over to his house. Sleepovers and dinners became a regular thing on the weekends for you too, and the no sex clause? Consider that good as done.
8:53 AM
It was another Monday morning in the office, in your decorated cubicle, you received an email notification from none other than Jeong Jaehyun, issuing to alert to his office immediately.
You stood up and made your way to his room, knocking politely on the door. “Come in!” he rang from the other side of the door.
You made your way into the office, shutting the door behind you as you sat in your usual spot with a smile plastered on your face. “Good morning Mr. Jeong! You needed to see me?” you cocked your head to the side noticing the blank expression on his face.
Jaehyun faced you and held out a familiar stack of papers, your contract from when you first started being his sugar baby. He cleared his throat before looking into your eyes emotionless. “Ms. Y/N, I think it’s safe to say that I would like to end our contract,” he blankly stated.
Your heart dropped. Why? He was tired of you already? You were so willing and devoted to him. You loved how everything played out for you too, you were even willing to take things further and be more than just a girl he chose to spend his money on. “M-may I ask why?” you stuttered meekly.
Jaehyun’s face somehow did a complete 180, he lowered his body underneath his desk revealing a bouquet of roses. His dimples were on display and his eyes were sparkling.
“Because I want to be with you.”
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Authors Note:
I’m so sorry this took so long! I was very shy about uploading my first Longshot, so any words of encouragement would be greatly appreciated if you guys liked this! Please tell me what you want in the future and send requests!🩷
Love, Mei!
#kpop x reader#fanfic#jaehyun x reader#nct 127#nct x reader#jaehyun nct#jeong jaehyun x reader#nct 127 x reader#kpop aesthetic
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THE POD (short FEEDISM/GOONER story)
If you enjoyed this little story, you might enjoy my ohter series on my DA acc !!!
Some mechanical arms have plastic sleek skinny arms that not only look human, but warm to the touch so you can't tell the difference. The mechanical arms do all the manipulation of the client. Whether rearranging the fat on their body, spreading the fat on their belly or thigh to let another mechanical arm with a mounted fleshlight get between their legs, squeezing their breasts or belly, or sometimes even light spanking if the client is in the mood.
The pod is also equipped with a synthetically adapting chair. This not only follows the client's figure perfectly, but even adapts to their growth. It also takes care of hygiene. And it has the ability to push to simulate touch or movement.
The client themselves has sensors on their head that scan their brain activity for 24 hours. We know what they liked, what they like and what they're going to like. We then send exactly the content they wants to their VR glasses, with realistic sound of course. They have a feeding tube in their mouth, which, like the VR goggles, is connected to the sensors.
So let's take a look at her.
The pod is dark, the flickering colored light leaking slightly from behind the glasses on the morbidly obese person sprawled in the pod. The next source of light was a small display with information:
Name: Abrey Miller
Age: 21
Height: irrelevant
Weight: 638 pounds
Gender: Female
Sex: Male
You can also hear loud electric music and porn chatter coming from the headphones. One mechanical hand holds her belly slightly raised, two then hold the fat from her thighs, one holds the fupa lightly to get the arm to the cock with a plastic libricated toy. It goes up and down in a rapid motion. Whenever the client is on the verge of climax, it slows down.
The other hands play with her nipples and gently squeeze her tits, which look pathetic compared to the rest of her body. Obese hands full of rolls lie limply on her distended belly. Some pink goo runs into her mouth through the hose. Her lips tightly around the hose. She moans into it. her double chin is gently shaking.
Her VR googles play first person porn. In her fantasy she's a skinny, worked out lady who is loading another slightly plumper lady from behind. But both are not in a real place. Their bodies float in a world of rainbow rapidly changing colors. Images of artificially large porn-tits or asses appear in thin air. Or colorful signs like "More" "Give in" "Just a little more"
A synthetic chair simultaneously creates gentle pressure on her ass while a mechanical hand fucks her with a rubber cock.
Abrey, I mean, the client's been living like this for a year and a half. Every six months, we have to ask if the clients want to be clients. And this client cried herself to tears trying to get back in. We always welcome new clients, and we cater to their every need! https://www.deviantart.com/pleasuredrunk05/art/The-pod-SSBBW-NEET-GOONER-1151313249
#feedee belly#feedee encouragement#obese feedee#sexy obese#corruption kink#obese gainer#hot obese#feeding kink#extremely obese#intox belly
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"I Missed You"
Masterlist | Gareth Emerson Masterlist
Gareth Emerson x Fem!Reader
(Both Gareth and Reader are in their early 20s)
This fic is for: birthday boy pop-up event by @corrodedcoffinfest ; the prompt is “birthday”
Prompt: Birthday | Word Count: 3100 | Rating: E | POV: Reader | Relationships: Gareth Emerson x Fem!Reader | Content Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Mentions of Starting a Family | Tags: Gareth Emerson, Corroded Coffin, Life on the Road, Pre-Established Relationship, Birthday Boy, Celebrating Gareth's Birthday on Tour, Soft and Sweet Sex
Warnings: 18+ mdni, Pre-Established Relationship, Lovey Dovey Gareth (He just wants to make you feel good because, he missed you), Smut: Oral (Fem Receiving), Fingering, Cum Eating, Unprotected PinV, Soft and Sweet Miss You Sex (seriously you're just talking the whole time), Creampie, afab reader
Synopsis: Gareth's birthday occurred this year while on tour with Corroded Coffin, which meant that it looked a bit different. Instead of the normal breakfast in bed and day spent together you were miles apart. But, the boys of Corroded Coffin step up to help you surprise your favorite boy on a day that's all about him.
Word Count: 3.1k
Today was a day that always meant so much to you: Gareth's Birthday.
Normally, you would get up early and make your loving boyfriend some homemade pancakes flavored with some sweet almond extract and cinnamon powder, some crispy bacon and some sunny side up eggs. You'd bring him an entire feast in bed with a cup of freshly brewed hot coffee flavored with that sweet caramel creamer he enjoyed too much. Like, seriously, how did he drink his coffee that sweet?
Normally, you would be making a cake at this time, double checking that the homemade red velvet cake was perfectly moist and baked before starting that homemade cream cheese frosting that Gareth would literally do anything for. No, really, if you left that fluffy, sweet frosting unattended on the counter he would be taking tastes of it all day, until the bowl was empty again.
This year, however, was anything but normal. No, this year Corroded Coffin was off touring the country, sharing their music with so many people. And, while you were extremely happy for your boyfriend and your friends, that meant that Gareth's birthday would look a bit... different this year.
So, instead of taking a perfectly baked cake out of the oven to cool you were rushing through the airport in Los Angeles, trying to find Jeff. He said he would be waiting for you when you landed while Eddie and Grant kept Gareth occupied so you could surprise him for his birthday while on tour.
And you were so grateful that you had such amazing friends that were willing to help you still give your boyfriend a special birthday, despite the circumstances. Those boys really loved you and Gareth, or maybe they were just sick of Gareth being an annoying lovesick boy who missed his girlfriend; either way it didn't matter to you because it meant that today you were able to see your boyfriend.
You heard your name being called and turned your head, looking in the opposite direction of where you were heading. You smiled when you saw Jeff walking towards you, arms open for a hug. "Hey you," he smiled, wrapping his arms around you. "How was your flight?"
"It was... different," you replied, looking up at Jeff. "I don’t remember the last time I had a flight on my own and today has just been weird, you know? Not really what I'm used to for Gareth's birthday... and I missed his phone call because he called me as I was walking out the door of the house and I just hope he's not mad at me." You sighed, taking a step back from Jeff.
"Oh, he won't be able to stay mad when he sees you in his hotel room. Which reminds me, we should go. You know how Gareth is, he cannot stay in one place for too long. Eddie and Grant promised they would keep him as busy as they could but, something tells me he's ready to be back in his hotel room thinking about you all alone." Jeff teased, grabbing your bag from you. You rolled your eyes and smiled, playfully hitting Jeff on the arm as you followed him out of the airport and to the taxi he had waiting for you both.
"So, how has the tour been?" You asked Jeff as you turned towards him in the backseat of the taxi. He looked at you and smiled, shrugging his shoulders.
"It's been fun, it's also been different because I feel like we are just going nonstop; I’m tired.” He admitted, “but, it’s definitely been a lot of fun.”
"Well, I hope you know that everyone back home is so proud of you guys and we all miss you like crazy," you smiled softly.
"Yeah, yeah," he said, looking at you. "You're just trying to butter me up because you want to see your boyfriend."
You gasped, placing a hand on your heart. "Come on, now. A girl can't compliment her friends?" Jeff laughed, shaking his head.
"No, she can. But, we both know as soon as you and Gareth see each other that the rest of us won't see you for the remainder of the night. You’ll be in each other's arms until tomorrow morning." He winked, smirking slightly. You blushed, trying to come up with an argument but you couldn't; Jeff was definitely right.
It had been far too long since you and Gareth had last seen each other in person. The phone calls while he was away on tour only did so much; you just longed to be back in the arms of your boyfriend for at least a night. Sleeping next to him, smelling his cologne, feeling his arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer to his body subconsciously in the middle of the night, listening to his little snores that escaped his body through the night.
Seeing Gareth would make everything feel right again, at least, for a little bit.
So, when you finally made it to his hotel room, you set your stuff down and looked around. Yeah, this was definitely Gareth's room. There were clothes everywhere, pairs of his Converse and Vans were thrown about next to his suitcase on the floor, the little pink stuffed teddy bear you and him made together at the store in Hawkins sat on the bed perfectly. You smiled to yourself, tidying up his room slightly.
“Yes, I know,” you heard Gareth say through the door of his hotel room, you looked to the door and giggled to yourself, looking for a place to hide. You found the tiny closet and hid inside, closing the door slightly. “Thanks, guys,” Gareth added, opening the door of his hotel room. He walked inside and closed the door behind him, locking it quickly.
Gareth walked into his room, setting a box down on the little table in the corner before he sat on his bed, running his hand through his fluffy hair. “Happy birthday to me,” he mumbled to himself, lying back on his bed. You peeked your head out of the closet door, watching him as he closed his eyes, resting his hands on his head.
You slowly tiptoed out of the closet, quietly moving towards the bed where your boyfriend was lying. You sat on the bed carefully, lying back next to Gareth. He felt the bed dip, turning to look at you with a raised eyebrow. When he saw you his eyes widened and a smile appeared on his face. He rolled towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you towards his body. Gareth held you close to him, burying his head into your neck gently, “I missed you, princess,” he mumbled against your neck.
“I missed you too,” you hummed. “And, happy birthday, Gare,” you said softly, smiling as you kissed the top of his head gently and ran your fingers through his fluffy hair. He pulled away slightly and rested his head on your chest, smiling up at you like an idiot.
“What’re you doing here?” He asked, his fingers gently running up and down your side lazily.
“What am I doing here?” You repeated, smiling at him as you pushed his soft hair out of his face. “It’s your birthday, why wouldn’t I be here?” You asked, kissing his forehead gently.
“Well, yeah, but; okay, how did you get here?” He asked, closing his eyes at the feeling of your fingers running through his hair.
“Jeff picked me up from the airport while Eddie and Grant were with you.” You smiled, looking at him.
“Well, I’m really glad you’re here,” he said, moving his head closer to yours. “I thought maybe you forgot my birthday.” He admitted softly, looking at you.
“I could never forget your birthday, babe,” you replied, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips. “Never,” you mumbled against his lips. He smiled into the kiss, his left hand moving up your body before stopping at your face. Gareth held your face softly, rubbing his thumb over your cheek as he deepened the kiss slightly.
You smiled into the kiss, your right hand moving to the back of his head, your fingers tangling through his locks gently. You tugged on his hair slightly, a small groan escaping his lips. “God, I missed you,” he sighed, pulling away from the kiss. He kissed down your jaw, leaving soft and sloppy kisses on your neck. He made it to the spot on your neck that always drove you crazy and nibbled on it gently.
You moaned softly, closing your eyes as he continued to kiss up and down your neck. “Fuck, Gareth, I missed you too.” You said softly, fingers continuing to tug on his hair.
“I missed you so much,” he mumbled through kisses. Gareth played with the hem of your shirt before he tugged it up, pulling it over your body. He trailed kisses down your collarbones and over your chest, mumbling along the way. “I missed seeing you,” he said as he kissed across your chest. “I missed holding you,” he added, kissing down your stomach. “I missed making you feel so good and hearing you moan my name,” he muttered, kissing further and further down your stomach. He stopped at the waistband of your jeans and looked up at you, a small smirk on his face as you squirmed underneath him.
“Gareth,” you moaned softly, looking down at him.
“Just like that, baby girl,” he said with a small cocky grin as he undid your jeans, sliding them down your legs gently. He pulled your lace panties down next, placing soft and lingering kisses up and down your thighs as he spread your legs open wide for him.
He kissed up your thighs and across your lower stomach before leaving soft and sweet kisses on your clit gently. You moaned, your fingers moving through his hair again as he looked up at you with a smile.
Gareth moved his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer to him before he licked a small stripe up your folds. He groaned as he tasted you, mumbling to himself. “God, baby girl, you always taste so good, missed being able to taste you.” You blushed at his words, moaning as you watched your boyfriend go back to licking up and down your folds.
“Gareth,” you sighed softly, watching him. He hummed against you, moving to leave more kisses on your clit. He kissed it softly and sucked on it, baby blue eyes watching you as he moved his fingers to your core. He swiped up some of your slick and teased your entrance before pushing his pointer and middle finger into you slowly. You gasped at the feeling, falling back onto the bed as your fingers tightened their grip on his soft locks.
He groaned against your clit, pumping his fingers into you slowly. “Yes, baby girl?” He asked, looking up at you.
“Feels good,” you mumbled, eyes closed as he continued to pump his fingers, curling them slightly. “Missed you, fuck, I can’t make myself feel good like you make me feel good,” you sighed, grinding against his fingers.
“Aw, baby,” he muttered, picking up the pace with his fingers. “You flatter me,” he added, sucking softly on your clit again. You moaned louder, the grip on his hair so tight that he groaned against you. He curled his fingers again, pumping them at a faster pace as he watched you come apart above him.
“Fuck,” you moaned, “ah, Gareth, gonna cum,” you warned, grinding against his fingers more. He moaned softly, curling his fingers again.
“Come on, beautiful, cum for me,” he said, “let the boys and everyone else in this hotel know who makes you feel so good.”
You moaned his name loudly, grinding against him as you clenched around his fingers releasing all over them. You loosened your grip on his hair as you fell back against the bed, breathing harder.
“Fuck, baby girl, I missed hearing you,” Gareth said softly, removing his fingers from your core. He looked up at you and winked, sucking your juices off of his fingers. “God, I missed tasting you too,” he sighed, trailing kisses up your body before he placed a soft kiss on your lips.
You groaned when you tasted yourself on his lips and moved to tug his shirt off. He pulled back from the kiss and removed his shirt before unbuttoning his jeans, sliding both them and his boxers off in one quick movement.
Before long he was crawling back on top of you, placing another kiss on your lips. The tip of his cock teased your entrance, slotting through your folds before he slowly pushed himself inside of you. You moaned into the kiss, moving your arms around his neck as you deepened the kiss.
“Gareth,” you moaned, looking up at him. He smiled at you as he pushed inside of you fully, staying still for a second.
“Hi,” he said softly, leaving kisses on your neck gently. You giggled at him and moved your head to the side, allowing him more access to your neck.
“You’re a dork,” you replied, playing with the hair at the base of his neck.
“Mhm,” he hummed against your neck as he started to slowly thrust in and out of you. “But I’m your dork,” he replied, nipping at your neck gently.
“Yeah,” you gasped, feeling him move slowly. “Unfortunately,” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.
“Hey,” he pouted, pulling away from your neck. You giggled at his pout, leaning up to kiss it gently.
“Sorry, you know how much I love you,” you mumbled as Gareth continued to rock his hips slowly, thrusting as slow and deep as he could. “You’re such an amazing boyfriend, and I love you so much,” you said, looking up at him. You moaned softly at his movements before continuing, “and, I missed you so much. I’m so happy for you and I’m so glad you’re doing what you love but it’s so lonely at home,” you added.
“I know, baby girl,” he said softly, kissing your lips again as he thrusted deeply, staying there for a second. “I missed you too, there were countless times where I just wanted to hop on a plane and come home, you know? Say fuck the tour and come fuck you instead.” He groaned, kissing you again as he started thrusting more.
“Mhm,” you hummed in acknowledgment as he continued thrusting. “But, baby, this is your dream,” you said softly, looking up at him. “You’ve always dreamed of touring the country, sharing your music with your friends.”
He nodded, moaning softly. “You’re right, it is. But you’re also my dream.”
“That’s sweet and all but.. elaborate?” You asked, leaving some kisses on his neck.
“We’ve been together for as long as I can remember,” he started, thrusting a little faster now. “And, I just, I don’t know. I want to settle down with you at some point; you know.. get married, have a family, live a perfectly happy life together. And, if I’m on tour with the guys I just feel like I can’t do that.” He sighed, looking at you with a small frown.
“Oh, baby,” you said softly, pulling away from his neck. You looked up at him, kissing his lips lovingly. “Don’t worry about that; you know how much I love you. I want you to chase your dreams and be happy. I’ll always be right beside you cheering you on the entire time. Plus, we’re still so young; maybe we enjoy our lives for a bit before we try to throw some kids in the mix,” you suggested softly.
“Aw, come on, you don’t want to be pregnant with my kids?” He chuckled, thrusting more.
“Maybe someday, just not.. today,” you replied, looking up at him.
He grunted, picking up the pace of his thrusts. “Mhm, so then, where am I cumming?” He asked, leaving kisses on your neck and chest again.
You groaned, closing your eyes. “Fuck it, inside. It’s your birthday, after all,” you giggled softly. He moaned against your neck, his thrusts becoming sloppy.
“Are you sure?” He asked, looking at you. You nodded, biting your lip to suppress a moan.
“Yeah, please,” you sighed, closing your eyes. Gareth moaned loudly, thrusting deep inside of you as he came, ropes of his cum coating your walls. You groaned at the feeling, clenching around him as you released around him yet again. His thrusts turned slow and sloppy, riding out of both your highs before he collapsed on top of you with a huff.
“Fuck,” he groaned, nuzzling his head into your neck as he stayed buried deep inside of you. “God, you’re perfect, I love you so fucking much. I missed you..” he sighed, wrapping his arms around your body gently.
“Mhm,” you giggled as his hair tickled your neck. “I love you too, and I missed you too. Happy birthday,” you smiled, playing with his hair gently.
“Best birthday sex ever,” he admitted, looking up at you. “Want some cake?” He asked, grinning up at you.
“Cake?” You asked, looking at him.
“Mhm,” he nodded, slowly pulling out of you with a sigh before he stood up. “I was really bummed I wasn't going to see you today but I was extremely bummed I was going to miss out on your homemade red velvet cake,” he explained as he walked towards the bathroom to clean himself up. He returned seconds later with a washcloth to help clean you up as well. “So, Eddie and Grant took me to this bakery that is supposed to be really good, but I'm not sure if anything can beat your cake, princess.”
After cleaning you up Gareth handed you your panties and his shirt before he slid his boxers back on. You quickly got dressed and followed after him, pulling out a few small candles and some matches from your bag. “A birthday cake needs some candles,” you smiled, placing the candles in the cake.
“Where did you get the candles?” He asked, looking at you.
“Jeff gave them to me,” you replied as you lit the candles carefully. You looked at Gareth and smiled as you wrapped your arms around him. “Make a wish, Gare,” you said softly, kissing his cheek.
“Oh, believe me, my wish already came true with you, baby.” He replied, kissing your head before he looked at the cake and blew the candles out.
gareth tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @keeryhours ; @darkyuffie-blog ; @luveediary ; @the-witty-pen-name ; @bastardstevie ; @pupwrites ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia
#gareth emerson#gareth#gareth emerson smut#gareth stranger things#stranger things#gareth x fem reader#gareth emerson fanfic#gareth emerson fic#gareth x reader smut#gareth x you#gareth x reader#gareth emerson x you#gareth emerson x reader#gareth x you smut#punkrockmlchael#corroded coffin fest#gareth emerson x fem reader#gareth emerson x fem reader smut#corrodedcoffinfest#corrodedcoffinfest: birthday boy
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out of reach | knj
pairing. kim namjoon x gn ghost!reader
genre. paranormal, angst
contains. themes of grief and loss, hallucinations (?), mentions of mental instability, this is just so sad <\3
wc. ~520
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Namjoon doesn’t even realize he’s left the studio until he’s standing at the door of his house, his keys trembling in his hand.
His brain has been static for what felt like hours — notes on paper that didn’t make sense, lyrics that felt like they were written by someone else.
Nothing fits anymore. Nothing feels like his.
Not the music, not the house, not himself.
Not his life.
The moment he steps inside, the air changes. It’s kind of. . . heavier here. Colder. Like the place is holding its breath. Like how devoid it is of life blooming inside.
His bag slides from his shoulder to the floor with a thud, but he doesn’t move to pick it up. His eyes are already searching the dimly lit living room, scanning for something, someone.
He sees you.
You’re sitting on the edge of the couch, your figure faint in the half-light, like a smudge on glass that he can never quite clean. Your hair falls around your face like it always used to, and for a split second, Namjoon forgets.
He forgets you’re not supposed to be here.
“You. . you’re still here,” he says, his voice hoarse from hours of silence, the words slipping out before he can stop them.
Even his voice feels like it doesn’t belong to him.
You lift your head slowly, your expression unreadable, your hands clasped loosely in your lap. “You always say that,” you murmur. “But you know I can’t stay.”
His heart stumbles in his chest, and he takes a shaky step toward you. He can’t remember when did his heart beat this fast the whole day as it is now. “Then why do you keep coming back?”
The ghost of a smile crosses your face — something soft and sad, something that cuts him deeper than any blade could.
“Because you keep calling me.”
Namjoon swallows hard, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “I’m going insane,” he says, the words falling out of him like a confession. Like a burden being lifted off his shoulders. “I feel like I’m losing my mind, and I don’t know what’s real anymore. You’re here, but you’re not. You’re talking to me, but . . . but you’re not.”
“I never wanted this for you,” you whisper, your voice like the wind, fragile and fleeting. Something tingles in the back of his head at how soothing your voice is, to him. “I wanted you to live, Joon. To live. To . . forget. To move on.”
“How?” he demands, his voice rising, cracking, breaking. “How am I supposed to move on when you’re still here? When you keep showing up like this, like . . like you’re haunting me on purpose?”
You stand then, your figure flickering faintly, like a candle about to burn out. “I’m not haunting you,” you say softly.
“You’re haunting yourself.”
The words hit him like a punch to the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. He takes another step forward, his hands reaching out toward you, desperate to feel something, anything.
“Please,” he begs, his voice pleading. “Stay. Stay with me. Just a little longer. Please.”
You look at him for what feels like an eternity, your eyes full of all the things you’ll never get to say. And then he watches with unblinking eyes as you fade, your outline dissolving into the cold, empty air.
Namjoon falls to his knees, his hands clutching the space where you used to be.
Where you’ll always be, just out of reach.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
a/n : hello ! i miss joon a lot (◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ) . .
thank you for reading. i’ve been struggling a lot with life lately and the writing block has been draining my energy since quite sometime, so, your feedback means a lot to me.🩶 take care x
#namjoon smut#bts smut#namjoon fics#bts angst#bts x you#namjoon x reader#bts x reader#bts fics#bts au#namjoon imagines#namjoon angst#namjoon fluff#bts fluff#bts fanfic#namjoon scenarios#bts scenarios#namjoon fanfic
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have you ever thought, "what if vox isn't a sinner? what if vox is a construct of alastor's that accidentally gained sentience?"
no? ok well... um... read it anyway it's G R E A T. anyway this is one of the 52903523325 things i'm planning for after my two human AUs
alastor builds vox out of spare parts
A sprawling junkyard, just a hop-skip-jump away from Alastor’s home, is the landmark with which he uses to orient himself in the expansive and ever-growing Pentagram City. The very peak of it towers above many of the buildings in his little corner of the pentagram, somewhere in the unclaimed in-between next to Cannibal Town.
It’s a rusted monstrosity, an eyesore on the horizon, but Alastor has grown quite fond of it over the decades. It started as nothing more than a broken-down car, half-melted and abandoned in the nearby wastes—before it had been built over—and over the course of the next twenty-or-so years, people have taken to dumping any sort of metal or mechanical or rusted-up piece of trash into that very same lot. So many things here wilt and shrivel and fade, but the junkyard only grows.
He passes it on his way to Rosie’s Emporium, a trek he takes more than a couple times a week, or to the hidden gem of a speakeasy built underneath a whorehouse on the border to the entertainment district. He’d normally not head that way, what with its shining lights and the façade of modernity trying to cover up the filth of this place, but that little underground bar is the only one that has the whiskey he likes and the music from his time up-top.
He's on his way to Rosie’s, today, to consult on some territory dispute. Very official-sounding, until you learn consultation is slang for making food out of whichever lesser demon is stoking an overlord’s ire. As always, he glances toward the junkyard to see what new things might have been tossed away and abandoned. It’s rarely anything very interesting, really, but when it is, it’s snatched up near immediately by nearby demons looking to make a quick buck or take advantage of whatever treasure they’d found in the mound of trash.
Today’s additions are a set of rusty knives, one of those Fizzbots meant for sexual relations—that one isn’t going to stay there for long, surely someone will snatch it up right quick—and a cardboard box of what appears to be spare parts, some of them gleaming. It’s the gleaming that is odd—most things dumped here are at least half-rust or covered in some sort of unknown substance.
He checks his pocket watch. He’s in no hurry, and he has time to spare, so he wanders closer, taking care to step over anything particularly hazardous looking. He pokes at the box with the end of his microphone stick, startling a little when it breaks apart and the pieces spill out.
Even more startling is that he recognizes some of these parts. “Oh my,” he says, crouching down to look closer. A near mint-condition chassis to an old Philco 90, sadly gutted of its insides, and a variety of other bits and bobs and circuitry. How interesting.
He hesitates. What would he even do with these pieces? He has no need for radios, reconstructed or not, and he hasn’t done any tinkering in ages. But, well, he is growing rather bored since running out of compelling victims for his radio shows.
None of the parts look rusted and dangerous, nor are they covered in dirt or strange fluids. Maybe he’ll find something interesting. He magicks them back into the box and sends it on its way to his apartment. On a whim, he sends the old television that had been sitting in a corner, untouched and unwanted, back as well. He might not care to watch them, but it may have some electronic bits he can use for whatever he ends up doing with the spare parts.
Satisfied he’s gotten everything he needs from the junkyard, he continues on to Rosie’s to conduct his consultation. It’s some sort of venison, today, and Rosie knows how much he loves to consume creatures not unlike himself.
×
He fiddles around with the spare parts he’d gathered over the course of the next month, uses his magic to solder what needs soldering, to transmute scraps of copper coinage into traces on circuit boards and bend stubborn coils when his hands won’t do the trick, but nothing really comes of it. He’s got no inspiration, no purpose for any mechanical creation he might be able to put together with the miscellanea scattered atop his worktable, so he throws a dustcover over the entire thing and forgets about it.
×
Alastor meets his muse in an antiques shop. He’s perusing for a gift for Rosie. She likes cute little clockwork things from before electricity was so widespread—they remind her of her childhood, or so she says. He’s having very little luck finding anything, unfortunately. The overflowing shelves of the dimly-lit store are filled with trinkets more modern than what he’s looking for.
He turns a narrow corner, nearly knocking down a precariously perched bowl full of dusty marbles, and finds himself face-to-face with one of the most ghastly little creatures he’s ever seen in his entire life. A marionette hangs from the ceiling, a few strings missing, half of its faced burnt off and what looks like limbs from an entirely different puppet stitched onto its left side. Its remaining eye, glossy and deep, blood red, sparkles in the single ray of sunlight filtering through the murky windows. He tilts his head curiously and steps closer.
“It’s garnet,” somebody says behind him.
“Hm?” Alastor asks, twisting just enough to meet the speaker’s gaze. One must be polite, after all. He expects a sinner or one of the higher Hellborn, but it’s an imp who has caught his attention.
“The eye,” the imp says, gesturing. “Kinda creepy lookin’, ain’t it?”
Alastor’s smile thins and he nods, then turns back to the marionette. “How much for it?” he asks.
“The puppet?”
“No, the eye,” Alastor clarifies.
“I got the other eye that fell offa it, if ya want,” the imp offers. “Two for the price of one.”
“What’s the other eye made of? Garnet as well?” Alastor asks, turning to face the imp fully.
“Aquamarine,” the imp answers.
After a moment of thought, Alastor responds, “Sure, why not.” Five minutes later finds him outside the shop with two gemstones, no gift for Rosie, and an idea stuck in his head. He’s never made a puppet before, and certainly never a mechanical one, but he’s just bought two eyes for it so he might as well figure out what other parts he needs.
#radiostatic#staticradio#voxal#alastor x vox#vox x alastor#hazbin alastor#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel#radiostatic fanfiction
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Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road. Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go. ~ Green Day, 1997
My apartment building has always been lively. In the early days, when I was up at all hours and usually stoned, it never bothered me. When Nine moved in, it was a nuisance, but we were almost always able to deal with it. But now...it sucks when we finally get Etta asleep and the neighbors are blasting music, fighting, or banging their headboards against the wall. And it came to a head the other night when Nine went to ask the neighbor to quiet down and she told him it's not my fault you don't have a life.
We talked it out and decided that it's time to move. Not only because of the noise, but because Etta is eventually going to need her own room, and, ideally, a place to play.
I kinda like the idea of Ciudad Enamorada, Nine said. It's got the same urban vibe as San My, but more artsy and funky.
What about the Backyard? We can't really commute to the record store from Enamorada.
We'd have to sell.
We were both quiet for a moment. Then our eyes met and we said the same thing at the same time. Herman.
He'd been at loose ends since Kim died, and he loved spending time at Nine's Backyard. We knew the special place we'd built would be in the very best hands with him.
I'll make the call, I said.
Herman said yes without hesitation, so now I guess we have one more decision to make. Which house should we buy?
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a man, a man, a man!!!
frat!bokuto x chubby!reader
summary: who cares if she has a little bit of tummy and big thighs, just more to love!
(lightly inspired by this reel)
You didn't exactly hate parties. In fact, you loved going out with your friends, getting ready before, coming home after and taking off your uncomfortable heels.
College was the time to party, obviously. You were going to party. There's something so cathartic about screaming the lyrics to some 2000s trash pop song.
But this party was not your cup of tea. You always refused to go to frat parties with your friends, doubting you'd even be let in. The frat guys on campus were... to put it simply, assholes.
You saw their sideways stares and snickers with their friends. They never tried to hide it. And really at this point, you were used to it. Too long have you been the punching bag.
It was a miracle that you got in, although it was likely because of your friends. They were both super gorgeous, like, model pretty. You weren't jealous, of course.
That's the thing, you knew you were chubby, you knew you weren't skinny but you didn't care. People can judge you all they want, you think your hot and that's what matters, right?
You followed your friends through the large house, the music reverberating against the walls and banging against your ear drums. The ground shook under your feet, your sneakers were weirdly... sticky? Ew.
Either way, you and your friends found the drinks and made yourselves a random mixture of alcohol in shitty red solo cups.
Your friends had on short skirts and tank tops. They looked amazing, as always. You opted for a pair of jean shorts and a white t-shirt. Simple, and easy. Right?
Wrong.
As you were following your friends through the crowd, you heard laughing and soon someone "accidentally" bumped into you, spilling their drink on you. It was red, of course.
The guy laughed, "Shit- My drink, watch where you're going, hippo"
You rolled your eyes, about to go find a bathroom before,
"Apologize right now," A loud voice spoke, standing in front of you. You looked at him, you could barely see him. All you could see in the darkness was his silhouette and his booming voice.
From what you could see, he was... well, he wasn't too bad to look at.
"What? You seriously asking me to apologize? Maybe if she didn't take up half the room, I wouldn't have ran into her"
You almost laughed, it was a good insult, honestly. A little dramatic, but still.
The man in front of you didn't seem to feel the same. He shook his head, "Fuckin' asshole-"
Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist and was dragging you away from the small crowd that had formed.
Were you about to get murdered? Possibly. But, like, yolo? His grip on your wrist was firm, but still gentle enough to not hurt you.
As you were dragged away, you heard the same voice shout,
"You wanna fuck that fat bitch so bad"
The man stopped, turning back to look at him.
"And so what if I do? Makes me 10x the man you are."
Eventually, you were upstairs. In a room, which was surprisingly clean. Nice job, mystery man.
Once the door was closed, he looked at you
"Hey! Sorry- Hey, uh, sorry about that."
He was somehow more shy now that the two of you were alone. And now that you got a good look at him, he was actually really fucking attractive, and was pretty muscular.
"My names Bokuto, by the way. Or Kou, maybe Kou is better- I'm not a fan of formalities anyway"
His back was turned to you, searching around in the closet.
"I'm y/n, and, why did you drag me up here? And why did you defend me- I've never met you before"
He looked back at you, "Well, I dragged you up here to get you a change of clothes. And I defended you because no one should talk to a person like that,"
He turned back to look in the closet
"Specially when its a pretty girl"
Did you hear that last part right?
No you were probably hearing things.
You stood awkwardly for a few more seconds before he pulled out a hoodie. It was black with a school crest on the back and some writing on the front.
"This good?"
You looked at the hoodie, sighing.
"Its fine, I'm just gonna go back to my dorm. I don't fit in guys clothes."
He smiled, "You'll fit in mine."
You raised a brow, a small smile forming on your face.
"Really?"
"Really."
You shrugged, taking the hoodie. He turned around and you took off your ruined shirt and put on the hoodie and..
It was actually kind of, big on you?
You looked at it, fighting the smile on your face. "Huh, what do you know"
He turned around, "Told ya"
You rolled your eyes, "I won't admit your right,"
You paused for a few seconds, looking around the room before looking back at him.
"Unless, you go on a date with me?"
He grinned, "You have yourself a deal, pretty girl"
a/n: lowkey also wrote this bc I was SICK of seeing hq x chubby readers where the reader is super shy or not confident, so yeah! The outcome might be a little more cringe than I wanted but whatever!
Reblogs always appreciated!
btw my requests are wide open...
#haikyuu#haikyu#jadebat7#fanfic#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#anime#hq#bokuto x reader#haikyu x chubby reader#bokuto x chubby reader#hq x chubby#chubby reader#frat bokuto#frat haikyuu
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