#this is throwing me back to highschool where the only way my friends and i listened to music was to download and upload to our phones lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sohnric · 10 months ago

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to. my first – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x fem! reader

genre: 90s au. twenty-five twenty-one au, friends to lovers au, exes to lovers au. fluff, slice of life, coming of age, suggestive. highschool au, football player! sunwoo, baker! sunwoo. cheerleader! reader. first love au. what we call wet cat sunwoo. meeting your ex after years and falling back in love with him kind of thing.

warnings: alcohol, throwing up, swearing, reader has hair long enough for a ponytail, a heated make out session or two that alludes to them having sex but no actual smut happens, finger sucking, the reader moping around a lot, no plot just vibes.

word count: 31k

a/n: inspired by me telling @/csenke that sunwoo is my first love. why am i so soft for this man i truly dont know... thank you best friend for betaing this monster i appreciate it a LOT! also thank you to sana @/heemingyu and izzy @/from-izzy for the help on some parts of the fic and brainstorming the ending w me, as well as beta reading small parts of this.

spin-off to my fic millennium bug because sunwoo deserves love too! the reader from eric's fic is referenced to as MB!Y/N in this. you don't have to read the first fic to understand this one, but there are a lot of references in this and i highly encourage you to do so!

they say you never forget about your first love. you guess that's true. (or– a story about reckless love, first kisses, growing up, ambition, and inevitably, failure.)

August 2007

The laughter all around is electric. The music playing in the background makes you sway and hum to the melody, the familiar tunes making your insides light up with a different sense of nostalgia when you remember the times in which these songs were popular. Your tired limbs make you cut your way through the room and sit down on a vacant chair, not really caring about where your designated seat was anymore, just needing to rest for a second before you either throw up from exhaustion or faint from how tired your legs are from all the dancing. Paying a quick goodbye to Juyeon on the dance floor, you heave out a satisfied sigh when your bottom meets the cushioned seat of the chair, eyes zeroing on the filled dance floor.

Feeling a cramp in your foot, you scowl and lean down, ready to do the thing you’ve been desiring for at least the last three hours– if not the whole day. Hands playing with the strap on your heel, you make the shoe come undone before you slip the uncomfortable footwear off your feet, relaxing when your naked limbs meet with the cold tile on the floor.

You don’t really know who in their right mind would have a wedding in the middle of the summer heat, but you guess there are people that are out of their mind like that– and those people are your friends from high school.

Everything about coming back to your hometown has made you feel unpleasantly nostalgic so far– the streets haven’t changed a bit, your childhood home still looks just the same, furniture unmoved, and the air is still as crisp, yet humid as it always was during late August. It’s only tonight that finally makes the weird bittersweetness turn into joy. You’re back home with everyone you’ve ever known, with everyone who’s made you into who you are today. You’re seeing all their faces for the first time in ages– and frankly, it does feel good.

The satisfaction in your veins stays for a bit until a figure dressed in a suit comes into your point of view. It’s not like you’re seeing him for the first time tonight– he’s a big character, even when it comes to this wedding, so it’s hard to not notice him– but as his legs take him towards you in a wobbly nature, it dawns on you that now is maybe finally the time you get to talk to him. Don’t get me wrong– there are no hard feelings between the two of you (or at least you don’t have any, you’re not so sure about his side of the story). It’s just that seeing him dressed in a tux, tie now a little loose around his neck, the twinkle in his eye still present as back when you were both a lot younger, there’s still a strong aftertaste of your feelings towards him somewhere on the tip of your tongue.

His walk is a little lopsided as he grins at you and takes a seat on the vacant chair next to yours, a huff of air escaping his lungs as his body relaxes, limbs falling freely down the sides of his chair. His cheeks are a little red and his hair a little messy– there’s only so much to explain his composure apart from all the dancing he’s done.

“So I see that you still can’t handle your liquor well even after all those years?” you joke, making the boy turn his head to face you, an amused twinkle appearing in his smile.

His eyes are still the same chocolate orbs you know, still the same soft look adorning them whenever he feels particularly ecstatic. He shrugs, jolting his bottom lip out before he sighs to himself. “Well, it’s not every day you are the best man at your best friend’s and your sister’s wedding,” he muses, shrugging.

Laughing at his remark, once again taking in the state of the room– Juyeon, Hyunjae and Haknyeon each dancing somewhere in the middle of the dance floor, MB!Y/N’s friends from university twirling her around in the right corner, Eric staring at the bride with a warm gaze in his eyes, sipping on a drink while resting against one of the tables, clearly taking a mental image to look at every time he feels the need to– it all feels kind of surreal. Who would’ve thought all those years ago that it would end like this?

Well, Eric Sohn, for starters. He confessed to everyone in his wedding speech that he knew he wanted to marry MB!Y/N the moment she kissed him on New Year’s Eve of 1999– him being this cheesy was only acceptable because it was his own wedding. In any other circumstance, Sunwoo wouldn’t be able to let his best friend live this down.

It’s not like you ever expected those two to break up– it just makes you a little in awe at how fast time is passing. “It’s kinda crazy, isn’t it?” you hum, squinting at the flood of people on the dance floor.

“It is,” Sunwoo hums, tonguing the inside of his cheek, “still can’t believe they’re dating. Hell, they’re getting married right now…”

“You can’t believe your sister is dating your best friend?” you laugh, wiping the sweat that’s accumulated off your forehead, the mist appearing there both because of your reckless dancing and because of the unbearable heat of the August night.

“That, and also the other way around,” he hisses, “but I guess they’re both so insufferable that they go well together, so I don’t know why I’m still so surprised.”

Chuckling at his comment– you guess the bond he has with his sister is never to be changed, no matter how many years have passed– you watch as he shrugs off his suit jacket and throws it over the back of his chair, starting to roll up his sleeves to expose his forearms. Eyes following his motions, you clear your throat and force yourself to look back into his eyes when he asks you a question. “What about you, though? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am,” you nod, no hesitation, “it’s really nice to see all of you after so long. Plus, I’m having a lot of fun, so that’s a nice bonus."

“I can see that,” he grins, “by the way you sat on my seat just now, and all–”

“Oh god– I’m sorry,” you gasp, suddenly feeling a little silly. And here you thought he went up to you because he wanted to catch up… “I’ll move, if–”

The sound of Sunwoo’s hearty laugh lands into your ear– it’s just the same as it was back when you were both high schoolers, making your heart soar– before he shakes his head and urges you to stay with a motion of his hand, putting his large palm on your thigh to keep you from moving. “No, no, don’t be stupid,” he says, “I don’t mind. I was looking for you anyway, so you just made it easier for me by sitting here, actually.”

He was looking for you, resonates in your head, the familiar buzzing in your fingertips alerting you of the effect he has on you even tonight. God, maybe you were the one that had too much to drink…

“You were?” you ask, tone of voice light– not at all suspicious.

Sunwoo nods, shrugging. “Well, I guess we have a lot of catching up to do,” he smiles, “don’t we?”

Eyes meeting his, the contact feels electrifying to the point it makes your head spin when you look at him, taking in his glossy eyes and the flush of his cheeks. They’re less round than when you two were young, but his eyes still stay the same– big, round and tender.

He reminds you a lot of the time when you saw him drunk for the first time.

to. my first time getting drunk

April 1999

Havoc rings in his ears like jingle bells, the world around him spinning like he’s on a rollercoaster. His head feels like someone is installing a nail to the middle of his skull and when he looks around, Lee Donghyuck is staring at him with a glass bottle of soju in his hand, urging him to drink more.

Sunwoo doesn’t have it in him to do much else other than shake his head. It feels like he forgot all his vocabulary, not a single word coming out of his mouth or to the awake parts of his brain, watery eyes begging his classmate to not make him drink any more.

What seemed like a good idea just a few moments ago– see, it’s prohibited to drink on school trips, but Kim Sunwoo is infamous for loving to break the rules– now seems like the worst idea of his whole entire life. He feels so sick he thinks he’s going to die of alcohol poisoning, but the laughter around keeps painfully reminding him that he hasn’t even had that much to drink in the first place. The amount of times he’s been called a lightweight this night is making his pride severely hurt, and even graciously intoxicated, he can’t bear the sting this is putting on his already hurt ego.

“Come on, birthday boy! I’m sure you can handle one more,” Donghyuck urges, uncurling Sunwoo’s fist and placing the bottle into his grasp, making the poor boy wince and battle back tears.

He knows he’s being embarrassing. The choice between not dying and not humiliating himself is rather a difficult one, but the moment he finally finishes the crossword puzzle in his brain and puts the glass opening against his lips, the bottle is thankfully taken out of his grasp and discarded somewhere where his eyes can’t reach.

“You’re done for the night, Kim Sunwoo,” you haul at him, shaking your head at the poor boy, “you’re done.”

Sunwoo wants to open his mouth and protest, maybe ask you what you mean, but the moment his lips unseal, he gets a sniff of the alcohol in the air and suddenly, he feels like throwing up. Your eyes lock with his, a pleading– maybe a warning– mirrors in Sunwoo’s gaze, and even though he’s so drunk he feels like he crossed dimensions, he applauds your ability to know just what he means by a single look into his eyes.

“Oh, Christ–” you curse, hurried steps moving to the corner of the room, swiftly grabbing the trash can and running back towards your friend sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor.

You make it just in time to catch the contains of Sunwoo’s stomach into the trash can, making the boy insanely grateful– he’s wearing the new shoes his mum got him for his birthday, and god knows he’d hate it if he ruined them the very first day he can show them off to his football friends.

The whole world disappears into the background as he throws up while making a mental promise to himself to never drink again. The only thing keeping him from losing it all is the feeling of your hand on his back, comforting rubs grounding him back to earth. Giggles fill his ears and he’s sure everyone’s laughing at him– even in his drunken state, he can recognise the shame filling his veins– but before he can open his mouth to argue with his classmates, the sound of your angry voice makes him seal his lips close and listen to the scolding you offer to his teammates for making him drink so much.

“You know he has a weak stomach, Donghyuck!” you huff and puff, your hand still drawing comforting circles to Sunwoo’s back as his head stays stuck in the bucket, not having enough energy to even straighten his spine.

“It’s his birthday! Come on, don’t be so tight-arsed.”

“Well, do you want him to die on his day of birth? That’s not very cool of you,” you growl, the shuffle of your clothing and a pained “ow” escaping his friend’s lips hinting to Sunwoo that you just kicked the right wing to his shin.

Deserved, Sunwoo thinks.

“Can somebody get Eric? I’m pretty sure he’s in Daehwi’s room with MB!Y/N, Minjeong and Jihoon,” you hum, waiting for anyone to follow your orders.

Sunwoo blinks in and out of it, his consciousness giving up on him with the incredible pain in his temples. He feels incredibly grateful to have someone like you by his side not only now, but all the time. The two of you have gotten incredibly closer ever since he joined the football team– and with you being one of the cheerleaders, you’re always somehow around. Not that he’s complaining, of course. It seems like you are one of the more responsible ones in this room right now, and god knows Sunwoo needs a bit of guidance on his day to day ventures.

“Do you think you’ll be sick again?” you ask, voice soft in his ear. “Or can I take the trash can off you now?”

Sunwoo thinks for a bit, then he nods and lets go of the plastic bucket. He doesn’t know what happens to it after and nor does he care– it seems like the alcohol in his veins took away all his sense of object permanence. He can barely see anything in the yellow lights of the room (which makes him believe he is going blind from all the alcohol he’s had– don’t tell him it’s just his eyes getting hazy and confused with how much his head is spinning), but he’s sure he can feel you wiping his tear-stained cheeks (he wasn’t crying– his eyes were just watering) and pulling him closer to you when he threatens to fall over even in his seated position. Your hand comes up to play with his hair when you let him rest his head against your shoulder, your actions making him sleepy, eyes closing on themselves like a threat for him to fall asleep any second.

Something about the care, the loyal protectiveness you take over the boy makes his heart soften. He breaths in your scent, trying his hardest to focus on your presence and not the weird feeling in his stomach– although it’s settled a bit since he threw up, it’s still a little uneasy– and before he knows it, there’s a tap on his shoulder waking him up from the haze.

Sunwoo mourns, not really wanting to move from his position, too comfortable with your fingers threading through his hair– but much to his dismay, your soft voice appears in his ear, telling him he has to get up. “Can you walk on your own? We’re gonna get you back to your room,” you hum, your lips accidentally brushing against the shell of his ear, making everything in him light on fire. He’s not really sure if this is the effect alcohol has on you, but if it is, he’s certain he never wants to drink again.

“Sunwoo?” you call, the way you say his name suddenly all too angelic in his ears– but still not enough for him to answer. “Alright,” you sigh after the dreadful silence, taking charge of the situation, moving away from the boy and offering him your hands to hold on to as you try to get him on his feet, “I guess we’re gonna find out.”

His fingers intertwine with yours as he stares up at you, his vision blurry, but still sharp enough to make out your tired face. The sight is enough to make Sunwoo worry– is he being too much? Are you mad at him? Do you not want to be his friend anymore? – but before he has a chance to address any of those concerns, he’s being tugged up to his feet. Not ready for the weight of his own body, his knees buckle and refuse to work. There is a pair of hands clutching his arm automatically– yours– as another pair holds him up from behind by his waist.

He’s not really sure who was his other savior, but by the silent curse heard from behind, he thinks he recognises Eric’s voice.

“I know I shouldn’t have left him alone,” he hears his best friend say, voice full of frustration.

“You really shouldn’t have,” he hears you sigh, making the poor boy scowl.

It still feels like he can’t really speak, exhaustion taking a toll on him, but he follows the orders as you tell him to get on his best friend’s back– Eric’s crouching figure ready for the impact, waiting for the taller one to clutch onto him so he can carry him into the safety of their shared room. The operation has to be quick if they don’t want to be caught by their teachers while walking through the hall, and somehow, in the distant crevices of his brain, Sunwoo recognises that and he makes no battle to resist, doing exactly as he’s told.

“Man, you’re heavy,” he hears Eric huff under him as the poor boy carries him through the hall. “You’re gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow, dude…”

Sunwoo’s head rests against his friend’s shoulder, hands carelessly hanging around Eric’s neck. He tries to blink away the sleep, desiring to stay awake, when your concerned face appears in his vision and suddenly, he feels insanely guilty.

“I’m sorry,” the two words escape his mouth with no trouble– the first words to appear in his vocabulary after the few minutes of him being surprisingly mute– only to hear his friend chuckle.

“Well, you’re going to be dying from a headache tomorrow, not us,” Eric hums, “so I think you have to apologize to future you first.”

Sunwoo pouts, bangs falling into his eyes making him blink in a desperate try to get the stray hairs away, attempting to make eye contact with your side profile. “Are you mad at me?” he asks, voice a little groggy from all the screaming and drinking.

“What?” you ask, genuinely surprised to hear his question. Your face morphs into a confused expression, the one where a wrinkle appears in between your brows– and it takes everything in Sunwoo not to poke the little line with his pointer finger in utter endearance.

“Are you… mad…?” he asks again, watching as your face morphs into amusement.

“No,” you shake your head, a hint of a laugh in your tone. “Why?”

“You look grumpy.”

“I’m just worried,” you note.

“About?” Sunwoo asks, his intelligence morphing into a one of a 10-year old with the influence the alcohol has on him.

“You,” you say, sighing and shaking your head as you move two steps in front of Eric and open the door to their room, closing it swiftly behind you and following the duo towards Sunwoo’s bed.

The younger one drops the boy into the cushions of his bed with an exaggerated sigh (that might as well be real, for all we know– god knows you wouldn’t be able to carry Sunwoo on your own), and the comfort of the pillow around his head is enough to make Sunwoo’s eyes start closing again, sleep threatening to take over his consciousness.

There’s some noise interrupting his sleep, though, making the boy tear his tired eyes open to notice you walking through the room. Sunwoo finds Eric putting a glass of water onto his bedside table and watches as you put a trash can beside his bed, hushed whispers sent Eric’s way resonating in the quiet room. “Make sure that he sleeps on his side so if he throws up again, he doesn’t choke–”

“Y/N?” he calls your name, watching as you look at him with careful eyes.

“Hm?”

“Are you leaving?” he asks, maybe a little foolishly.

“Yes.”

The boy nods at your reaction, showing his acknowledgement. In the drunken state of his mind, he knows he doesn’t particularly want you to leave, but he’s also fairly certain, finding the rational thought in the sober part of his brain, that you have to leave, and so he lets it go. The drunken state of his mind wins, though, when the next sentence foolishly escapes his lips.

“Please don’t stop liking me after this,” he mumbles, words slurring.

“What?” you ask– confused because you either don’t fully comprehend what he’s trying to say, or because you truly just couldn’t hear what words escaped his mouth– but when you don’t get a clarification, you just nod at the boy, seemingly desperate to keep him happy tonight. “Okay, I won’t.”

“You won’t stop liking me?” he asks, a big pout playing with his features.

“No.”

“Okay.”

That seems to put his mind at ease– enough to make his brain finally turn off and lead him to sleep. He doesn’t really remember what he dreamt of that night, but the last memory he has of the night of his 18th birthday is that you promised to not stop liking him after seeing him a drunken mess, and how he so deeply wished you’ll continue to like him forever.

It hits him only a few months later that the thing he so desperately hoped for that night was that you’ll keep liking him even at his worst– that he didn’t drive you away and one day, maybe, you’ll like him more than just a friend.

to. my first detention

September 1999

Sunwoo was never the one to break the rules.

Well, if you don’t count that one time he skipped class just because he got too bored of it in the middle of the lecture. And it wasn’t even that hard either– he just asked if he could go to the bathroom, and when he got the approval, he stood up and left, never returning.

Or if you don’t count that one time he climbed up the ladder on the side of the school building with his friend Juyeon and had his lunch there. Or that one time he cheated on an exam and made a scene about it when accused of the act, leading the professor into letting him off just that one time.

Sunwoo is usually too lazy to break the rules. Some days, paradoxically, his laziness is what leads him to break the rules. He can’t really help it, even if he tried.

The one time he does break the rules, expecting to be punished by his teacher for coming late to class, it’s not even his fault in the first place. Morning football practice ran late and he didn’t feel like rushing to change out of his practice clothing– see, the laziness is playing a part in this as well– so when he arrived into his Physics lecture, the clock was already 15 minutes after the bell rang for the first period.

Much to his surprise, his teacher didn’t even punish him. “Well, you’re an athlete, so it’s understandable,” he heard, making his lips stretch out into a subtle smile. If he knew that joining the football club would lead him to have such privileges, he would’ve done it a long time ago.

How did he still end up in detention, you may ask? Well, that’s a funny question.

Your flushed face appears in the doorway of the classroom exactly 2 minutes after Sunwoo does, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Your hair tied up in a ponytail is loose now, stray hairs falling out to frame your face, your school uniform wrinkly, shirt not tucked in properly, as you spit out endless apologies to your teacher about being late for lecture.

“I’m really, really sorry about being late,” you bow, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you look around the classroom with apologetic eyes, “I had cheerleading practice and it ran a bit late, so I didn’t have enough time to–”

“Sit, Ms Y/L/N,” the teacher hums, “if you have time to do any other activities other than being in class, I’m sure you’ll have time to stay after class for detention, am I right?”

“Sir, I really–”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Now, are you seeing the difference in the way you and Sunwoo were treated? That’s right. It may not look like it, because the young football player rarely puts effort into anything (other than the game), but when something angers him, it’s quite difficult for him to keep it in.

And that’s exactly why his ass is currently sitting in one of the chairs of his classroom, legs spread wide as he looks around the silent room in boredom. Accusing his teacher for being sexist and holding to double standards wasn’t the best idea, but it was enough to get him into detention alongside you.

His eyes get caught up with something– someone– sitting two desks in front of him, one to the right, scribbling their homework into their notebook. At least you are using up the detention time for important and useful things, he thinks. That won’t stop him from interrupting you in your task, though. Even better– it encourages him.

Tearing out a piece of paper from his notebook, Sunwoo fishes for a pen in one of his pockets, writing a short note that says: Wanna get ramen after this? before he crumbles the paper into a small ball. After watching the teacher for a few seconds, making sure that he’s not going to get caught, he throws the ball in your direction, aiming straight for your head.

He misses. Well, that’s why he plays football and not volleyball– he doesn’t have good aim when it comes to his hands– but nonetheless, the note ends up hitting your shoulder before it bounces off and falls to the ground.

Confused, you look around before you find Sunwoo staring at you, pointing towards the paper on the ground with a grin on his face. You sigh, sending a telepathic signal of ‘you’re acting like a child again,’ straight into his brain before you reach for the paper ball and take it into your hands, fingers uncurling the thin material and reading out the words he’s sent to you.

Only a few seconds pass before you throw the ball back to him– he catches it in his hands, earning an approving look from you at his strangely fast reflexes, making a sense of victory flow gracefully through his veins. A frown settles on his face when he reads out your reply, though.

can’t. I promised Aeri I’ll hang out with her later. we’re going for frozen yogurt.

Sunwoo furrows his brows. Oh how he hates to be denied.

I can join!! i could use some froyo

You send a tired look to him over your shoulder when you receive the message, rolling your eyes at his comment. It’s obvious that Sunwoo can’t join– he knows it by the look in your eyes. Hell, he knew he wasn’t invited even before he asked– he just likes to see your frustration. Something about the way your face scrunches up, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, amuses him in a way he can’t really describe.

you could’ve gotten yours instead of staying in detention. what was that about, by the way?? I’ve never seen anyone willingly do detention… you must be out of your mind

The message makes him chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. His motives are clear– well, at least in his brain. If he stays in detention, he can see you for some more. Which means he can hang out with you more (or look at the back of your head from afar, whichever you grace him with on that particular day). And he wants to spend as much time with you as he can, well, because… because he just likes to do so. Why?

Don’t ask. He hasn’t thought it out that far yet.

I just like things to be fair. I came late too :((

He writes back instead. Fairness is the last thing he cares about if the world is in his favor. If the world is unfair to you, though– that’s another thing.

weirdo.

You write back. The pen is already in his hand, ink getting hotter as he masters up a reply, when the loud voice of his teacher cuts through the classroom and announces that detention is over and they’re all dismissed. Something in Sunwoo’s stomach drops.

Sighing, he puts the note back into his pocket (and will forget to throw it out. Then, he’ll find it there after a few days, unravel the ball and read over the letters with a smile. He won’t throw it out then either– he’ll crumble it back and keep it there until the paper wears out and forms into litter in the pocket of his pants). Gathering his things into his bag, he swings the backpack over one of his shoulders before catching up with you, already halfway out of the classroom. You seem to be in a rush to meet Aeri– he understands– but there’s still one more thing he needs to do.

Clearing his throat, Sunwoo approaches you from the back. “Hey!”

“Hi,” you hum, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. “Aeri’s waiting for me outside, so I gotta–”

“Wait, I– I have something for you,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. Why does he suddenly feel so nervous? The words his sister said to him yesterday keep resonating in his head, and although he knows it’s not true and he doesn’t see you in that way, his stomach churns and he clutches his hand into a fist by his side, a desperate act to ground himself.

“What?” you look at him, eyebrows furrowed, all confused. Sunwoo’s not the one to give gifts– sure, he pays for your meals sometimes, but that’s only because you share them and he comes to the logical conclusion that he eats more of the portion than you do anyways, so it’s only fair.

“Um… well, my sister… she was making those bracelets yesterday and she made me do it with her, because she’s really annoying when she wants to be,” he mumbles, fishing for the bracelet in the front pocket of his backpack, lying straight through his teeth.

You stare at him with wide eyes, completely unreadable to Sunwoo. Well, he already said it, so he may as well just dig his hole even deeper. The yarn is soft under his touch when he twirls the bracelet in his fingertips, eyes focusing on the shades of red and pink, suddenly too afraid to face you and look you in the eyes. “And, uh… we made too many, so I brought you one, because… you’re my friend, and all,” he mumbles, chewing the inside of his cheek.

His sneakers are oh so interesting to look at in the few seconds he spends waiting for your reply. He feels like he’s in court, waiting for his ordeal– anxiety making him bounce on the tips of his feet, his other hand clutching the strap of his backpack for dear life.

“Did you make that?” you ask, tone of voice genuinely appreciative.

“Yeah,” he shrugs.

He did not.

“That’s– that’s really cute,” you gasp, making the boy finally look up. When he finds that the words are addressed to the bracelet his sister made, not his act of kindness, something inside of him gets irritated, but the little devil in his chest leaves just as fast when you meet his eye and take the yarn from his hands, examining the red and pink knots from a closer distance.

“Yeah,” he hums, not really knowing what to say.

“Can you tie it for me?” you ask, offering the bracelet back to the boy and smiling at him, waiting for him to circle it around your wrist and secure it to place with a knot. It’s a bit long, the ends sticking out to different directions, but Sunwoo admits that it does look quite nice against your skin, and that if he forgets about the fact that it was his sister who actually made the bracelet (even though he begged her to teach him for approximately two hours, going as far as bribing her with his snacks), he does feel quite proud of the gesture.

There’s something possessive about the bracelet, he thinks. It's like a sign to everyone that you have someone who cares about you enough to tie it around your wrist. It’s like saying hey, this is my best friend! No one else enjoys their company enough to make a bracelet to prove it, but me. It’s like a silent translation of the heart’s calling: this person is mine. They’re not allowed to take this off until I die.

Sunwoo feels a bit giddy as he watches you admire the yarn around your wrist. You sport the same expression as Eric did when he forced a bracelet out of his sister yesterday– eyes glimmering, the widest grin on your features. While he may be sure what the face meant when it came to his best friend (although he tries to close his eyes from the obvious crush he has on his sister), he’s not quite certain when it comes to you.

In his mind, you smile like this at everyone. You’re just that kind of person.

But oh does he wish you mirror Eric’s feelings on the matter. Oh does he hope you tell everyone he is the one who gave the bracelet to you– he hopes you boost in front of your friends, tell them just how much you like it.

…maybe his sister was right.

Maybe the bracelet had a deeper intention.

August 2007

“So,” Sunwoo hums, taking a salty chip from the bowl settled in the middle of the table, looking over at you with a curious gaze, “how have you been?” he asks, chewing as he waits for you to answer.

It’s an easy question, one would think– and it’s true, it’s not the most difficult thing to answer. But considering the circumstances, the fact that you and Kim Sunwoo haven’t seen each other since you both graduated from high school, despite telling each other you’ll stay in contact and see each other whenever you have the chance to– it gets a little bit more difficult. It’s been 6 years, many things have changed, you had your fair share of good things happening to you as well as the bad.

What do you tell Sunwoo, though– a friend you lost somewhere along the way, much like everyone? Well, you can’t really blame him for growing distant with you– although to this day, you don’t really know the reasoning. He was the first one to leave, and although you always wished him the best, nobody can really blame you for doing your part at flying out of your nest. Everyone has to experience the outside world before they can find their place in it, no?

It’s not your fault that you weren’t as successful as you wanted to be…

“Well, you know,” you shrug, “so and so. Many things happened, but I guess I’m doing fine,” you conclude, nodding to yourself.

The face Sunwoo offers you is one of concern. You recognise that this is not really what he wanted to hear– not really what he expected you to say. The both of you were always ambitious, shooting for the stars, so it would be nice to know that at least one of you finally chased down the dreams you’ve had since you were young.

“What about you?” you ask quickly, shielding yourself from more interrogation. “How did football go?”

That has Sunwoo chuckling, averting his gaze. He takes a sip of the soda placed on his table before he turns to you again and answers the question, shrugging to himself. “Didn’t really go as I planned,” he says, nodding to himself. “Guess I lost many years on it, but oh well. Can’t really take it back now.”

“Don’t say that,” you hum, chewing on the inside of your cheek. The answer he offered you was not surprising to you– not that you didn’t believe in his abilities, not at all. It’s just that by now, if Sunwoo’s dreams came true, you’d be aware. You’d hear about him everywhere. You’d see him on the news, in the paper… It seems like your friend has disappeared out of the spotlight he always wanted even sooner than he could walk straight into the stardom. You wouldn’t say you were keeping tabs on him, no– you just cared enough to try to look for him in every place you could. “It wasn’t lost years. You did what you loved, and you tried your best.”

“I know,” he says, scrunching up his nose in an adorable manner before he sighs, “I’m just moping around. Besides, I quite like the life I’ve had since coming back home,” he admits.

“You do?” you ask, eyes glimmering in the lights. Something in you shifts– moves to a more comfortable place at the information. It’s strange that hearing that he’s doing fine still makes you feel at peace. It’s been years– you really shouldn’t care by now.

“I do,” he nods, “I work at Juyeon’s father’s bakery now. I didn’t really expect to like it, but there’s something charming about it, I’ll have you know,” Sunwoo says, taking another handful of chips into his hand before feeding them to himself, seemingly trying to chase down the tipsiness in his bloodstream.

That drags out a giggle out of you, shaking your head at the news. “I wouldn’t take you for a bakery kind of guy,” you say, “I can’t really imagine you in the kitchen.”

“Well, times change, Y/N-ie,” the nickname slips out between his lips like a punch to your gut, his teasing tone dragging nails to you in a weird sense of nostalgia, “I’m the best baker in town right now. People go crazy over my cinnamon rolls,” he nods, pointing a finger to you as if to prove his point.

“I find that hard to believe,” you squint at him, shaking your head in disbelief.

“You’ll have to come and find out,” he says, the sentence so casual that the contrast of his following statement has your heart drop a little, “well, if you’re… staying around for a bit, of course…”

Humming, watching as his eyes soften at the shift in your composure, you nod in agreement. “I’ll make sure to add that to my plan.”

Sunwoo nods in acknowledgement. Swallowing down the chips that were in his mouth, he dusts off his hands off the excess salt and licks his lips before speaking up again, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “So you’re staying around for a while?” he asks, a little bit cautious.

He doesn’t really know how sensitive this topic is for you– you don’t even know if he’s aware of your previous whereabouts, if he knows where you left off to and why– but Sunwoo stays caring, no matter the amount of time you spent not talking, no matter the big canyon that slowly formed in between the two of you in the years of no contact. It’s something you’ve always appreciated about him. He liked joking around, but he always knew where the boundaries laid, always knew when the joke went too far. He tried hard to avoid poking around too much, but he always made sure to apologize if he realized he hurt someone’s feelings. He’s a spark of violent fire, but he’s also tamed like a fireplace when he wants to be– warm, comfortable. It’s easy to feel like it’s back in the old times when you’re around him. It’s easy to pretend neither of you ever really left.

“I am,” you nod. “Things… didn’t really work out for me either, y’know,” you chuckle, the dry kind that shows just how bitter you are about the matter. “I went to New York with the internship my aunt arranged for me in KBS, but I guess I just… wasn’t really good enough to keep full-time.”

“Don’t say that,” Sunwoo mirrors your previous statement, an honest attempt at comforting you.

“No, it’s okay,” you laugh, “I stayed abroad for a while, tried hard, but sometimes, it’s just not meant to be, y’know? So after I realized my jobs weren’t making me enough money for a decent living in the States, I came back home,” you say, mouth forming a pout as you speak– the kind that shows you’re lost in thought, making up a plan as you go, “I’ll help my parents out for a while and then look for something to do here, I think.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Sunwoo says, offering you a soft smile. “I… I guess I’d say it’s good to have you back,” he admits, averting his gaze as he says the words, “ever since I came home, it felt like something was missing, so… anyways, you’ll figure it out, so don’t worry too much.”

“Thanks, Sunwoo,” you hum, pressing your lips into a tight smile, heart squeezing a little at his sincerity. It’s strange– it’s been years, having lived through countless different situations that were supposed to change the both of you, shift you into two completely different people– but somehow, Sunwoo still feels the same. Almost as if you two never left. Almost as if you two never drifted apart and instead spent your early twenties side-by-side, just like you always planned on doing.

The boy looks at you from the corner of his eye, a content smile spreading on his lips. You feel the atmosphere shifting, the situation tensing up a bit, and with the discomfort the image of him leaving you alone brings you, the words slip out of your lips with a bit too much ease.

“Would you want to… dance with me? I wanna see if you still remember what I taught you,” you grin, watching as the playful expression mirrors on your friend’s face, a nod eliciting from him that makes you quickly put your shoes back on and get ready for the dancefloor.

“Of course,” he hums, standing up swiftly and wiping his hands on the fabric of his pants before outstretching a hand for you, tone of voice sweet like honey, “my lady?”

to. my first dance

November 1999

“Who are you asking to the dance?” you question one afternoon, the two of you behind the closed doors of his room. There aren’t many times where Sunwoo gets to invite you over– mostly because he’s too shy to have someone around when his sister is home, and his sister isn’t known to have that many friends to hang out with– so the times where he finds you settled on top of the sheets of his bed, he treasures deeply.

“I dunno,” he mumbles, looking up at you from the comfort of his rug, shrugging, “I don’t really think I’m going, actually.”

“Oh?” you gasp, pouting at the boy. “Why not?”

“I don’t really have anyone to go with,” he says. What he really means is– you’re going with someone else. Sunwoo doesn’t really see himself dancing with anyone else but you– that’s just that kind of bond you two have in his mind. Your friendship is dear to Sunwoo, and the boy can’t think of anyone else he’d like to spend the evening with.

When his sister argued with him with logical words, telling him that he treasures his friendship with Eric just the same, but wouldn’t invite him to the prom, he just scoffed at her. MB!Y/N doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t treasure Eric in the same way, no matter the fact that they pretty much grew up together. Some things just don’t feel the same way with Eric as they do with you. He feels closer to you, in a way.

“Well, that’s bullshit,” you scoff, shaking your head at your friend, “you’re handsome. And you play football, which is every girl’s dream. I bet anyone would go with you if you just asked,” you propose, pointing a finger at the boy, not really noticing the way he blinks at hearing the words ‘you’re handsome’ coming out of your mouth in regards to him.

Do you find him handsome? Is that your subjective opinion or are you just objectively saying what you’ve heard in the cheerleader changing rooms?

He’d like to know. Just out of curiosity.

Sunwoo scratches the back of his neck in nerves, now fully seated and facing you. It’s hard to meet your eye when he talks, his words coming out muffled. “I can’t dance anyway, so it would be no fun for everyone involved.”

And watching you dance with his classmate Shotaro would be no fun either. See, it would be easy for Sunwoo to be okay with the fact that you were going to the prom with someone older (which is practically impossible, since you’re both seniors, just for the record…). He would understand your point, then. It’s easy to be okay with defeat when your opponent has the upper hand, but when you put two men against each other that are hierarchically equal to each other, much like Sunwoo and Shotaro, the poor boy finds it hard to not feel as insecure in his position.

But with Shotaro being the same age as him and the same amount of popular as him, Sunwoo can’t help but compare himself to his classmate. What does Shotaro have that Sunwoo doesn’t? Is it his smile? Should Sunwoo smile more…?

It doesn’t really help his case that you’re going to the prom with the head of the dance team. Sunwoo can’t dance… Is it the fact that he can’t dance?

Or are you just going to the prom with Shotaro because he was the one to ask you to go? Sunwoo can’t help but wonder– would you have gone with him, had he the balls and asked you first?

“What do you mean, you can’t dance?” you say, eyeing the male.

“Just… never learned to, I guess,” Sunwoo shrugs, “but it doesn’t really matter, since I’m not going, so…”

“But you have to go,” you pout, putting the boy in a difficult position. He doesn’t know if you’re aware of the fact, but your pleading look does wonders to his decision making. He’d commit arson if you asked him to with those glimmers in your eyes. He’d kill for you. Or die for you. Both, depending on the situation. He’d do anything.

“Why?”

“It won’t be fun if you’re not there,” you say, sighing. Your face looks so genuine Sunwoo almost believes it. It makes his heart squeeze and contemplate his decision. “I know Donghyuck is gonna spike the punch, and there are gonna be fireworks,” you hum, chewing on the inside of your cheek, “and this is our senior prom, Sunwoo… you have to come.”

The words resonate in his brain, making him even more hesitant about his decision. This is your senior prom– the last dance of your high school years. The last opportunity for Sunwoo to enjoy this time with you and his friends, the last chance he gets at seeing you in a pretty gown, all dolled up and smiling from the sneaky sips of alcohol you’ll get with everyone outside of the school gym. The last opportunity for Sunwoo to dance with you, his best friend, and possibly the last time he’ll ever enjoy his evening with the rest of his football team before all of them have to study in order for them to take their CSAT.

Maybe you’re right. Maybe he should go.

“I’ll think about it, I guess…” he mumbles, watching as your face morphs.

“You guess?” you scoff, glaring at him. “You’ll go or I’ll personally come to your house and drag you there by your hair, you get me, Kim Sunwoo?” you threaten him, having the boy laugh at your outburst. You’re really adorable when you tease him, Sunwoo thinks.

“Got it, chief,” he says, offering you a playful look as he salutes and lays back down onto the carpet, eyes pressed to the ceiling. “Don’t expect me to dance, though, because I refuse to embarrass myself. I have quite the reputation to uphold, you see.”

Sunwoo hears you chuckle, the noise of his sheets tousling landing into his ears. Before he has a chance to look at you and see what you’re doing, his view of the white wall above is shielded with the sight of your face, hair framing your cheeks as you stare down at him and put out your hands, waiting for him to take them and get up to a seated position.

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“I’m gonna teach you, come on,” you call him with a motion of your hand, arms still outstretched and waiting.

“Huh?” he squints, watching as you roll your eyes in frustration.

“I’ll teach you how to dance, Sunwoo,” you snicker, watching as the boy slowly takes your hands and lets you drag him up from where he’s laying on his electric blue rug, “so you don’t embarrass yourself.”

That has Sunwoo stuttering, his figure freezing even when you manage to somehow make him stand up in the middle of his room. A million different exclamation marks appear all over his brain, warning him from the upcoming events, but he has no way of denying your proposition now, no matter how hard he tries. “No- it’s- you don’t have to, I’ll just-”

“Okay, so,” you say, dismissing all his previous attempts at stopping you from your quest, “first, you put your hand here,” you order.

The skin of your fingertips touches Sunwoo’s hand, making the boy’s heart stummer in his chest. You drag his palm towards your waist, placing it on the curve of your body. He swears he feels electricity flowing through the contact, warmth radiating off your skin even though it’s shielded by the fabric of your favorite shirt. He gulps as you put your hand on his shoulder, his eyes carefully following your movements, examining every slightest shift of your composure.

“And then you hold my hand with your other hand,” you instruct, but move to do it yourself when the boy doesn’t seem to have it in him to reach for your palm himself.

Your fingers interlock with his, making the boy chew on his bottom lip in a sudden flash of nerves. You’re standing so close he can smell your perfume, the scent making his head spin and feel lightheaded. If you made him turn in this moment, he’s sure he’d fall over, weak legs barely holding him up in your close proximity.

“Sunwoo?” you ask, making the boy gulp before he hums in acknowledgement.

“You have to look into my eyes when you slow dance,” you laugh, the sound soft and airy, but enough to have his stomach feel all weird, like he’s about to throw up. Still, he forces himself to look into your eyes, instantly feeling like you’re hypnotizing him. (He’s convinced he’d jump out of his window right in this moment if you asked him to.)

“Okay,” he nods, standing still, maintaining eye contact. His body is stiff, muscles tense as you just stand there for a moment. Sunwoo battles his inner fight and doesn’t look at any other features of your face– he has a weird obsession with staring at your lips whenever you talk to him lately. He feels like a weirdo every time he catches himself doing it, so he tries to get rid of the bad habit as much as he can.

“Now, you just… kind of sway to the beat,” you say. The boy nods, but his body stays unmoving.

“There’s… there’s no music playing,” he gets out, watching as you chuckle, your lips stretching out into an adorable grin.

“Right,” you nod, sighing, “well, I’ll just… let me just…” you mumble before you start humming a tune– one that makes Sunwoo laugh from how ridiculous it sounds, the notes so unfamiliar to him he’s sure you’re making it up as you go. Before he knows it, you start moving, making him mirror your actions.

It’s not as difficult as he thought it was, he thinks. You stare at him, all encouraging, as you sway from one foot to the other, nodding at him when you see that he’s following your lead well. Dancing with you suddenly feels like the easiest thing in the world, it feels like he was born to have you in his arms, in the middle of his room as you hum an unfamiliar song to him. He thinks going to the dance won’t be so bad– not if he gets to dance with you there for at least one more time.

“Doing well,” you smile, making the boy feel all warm on the inside. A feeling of victory flashes over him for a mere second. He beams in your considerate words, feels fuzzy under your warm gaze. He feels like he just won the lottery. It’s kind of silly, if he really thinks about it.

A boyish grin appears on his face, having Sunwoo shaking his head at how both ridiculous and over the moon he feels right now. The stream of hums coming out of your throat cuts off for a second as you talk to him with an instructing tone, a warm gaze pressed into his features. “So you can either do this, or you can…” the hand that was holding his suddenly untangles itself from between his fingertips (and Sunwoo’s momentarily glad, because his palm was getting quite sweaty– although he admits that it does feel empty now that you’re not holding it), before you place his other hand on your waist as well.

Something about the pose makes Sunwoo feel strangely intimate, a little bit bashful under your gaze. It only intensifies when your hands go up and entangle behind his neck, bringing you two even closer than before. The proximity has him blushing, red cheeks bringing heat to his face. He prays you don’t mention it– he really doesn’t know if he would be able to talk himself out of this one.

“Or you can do it like this,” you say before you lead the boy again, bodies swaying to an imaginary rhythm. You’re not even humming this time, having Sunwoo follow your movements in complete silence, his aimless movements mirroring your own. He’s surprised he hasn’t stepped on your foot yet when you decide to quickly teach him how to waltz (while also mumbling something about this dance being performed with the previous hand placement). He follows your orders– step forward, close, then another step backwards– and before he knows it, you’re leading him into a gentle turn, rising and falling in a ¾ count.

He’s getting lost in your voice– the softest “1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3,” helping him to stay in rhythm– before he’s pulled out of his trance as he feels your fingers playing with the hair on his nape, entangling yourself into his black locks. The motion has him look back up to your eyes (that have been previously glued to your feet, making sure he’s not stepping on your socked limbs), surprised when he sees you staring at him with a sweet smile playing with your lips.

Halting your movements for a bit, you let out a giggle and take him by surprise when your hand reaches up towards his bangs, ruffling his hair as he still holds you around your waist, the two of you almost hugging in his room. “See? Not that hard. You’re a born natural.”

His heart feels like it skipped a beat, a weird sense of panic enclosing around his chest. He doesn’t know what it is, not really knowing how to name the feeling, but it has him nervously smiling and urging him to escape you– escape your touch, escape your scent, your voice and the way you smile at him like you may feel the slightest ounce of the things he does for you, but refuses to accept on most days.

Rushed movements make him break apart from your grasp, quick breathing making him feel like he might spiral.

“Hey! We weren’t done yet!” you call after him when he runs towards the door of his room.

Not looking around, the boy gulps and nervously calls back to you, facing the door. “I’ll be back! I just have to pee!”

The door to his bathroom closes behind him with a loud shut. The boy doesn’t aim for the toilet– instead, he walks over to the sink, turning on the tap and splashing his face with ice cold water. When he’s done, feeling a bit less heated up, he looks up and stares at his face in the mirror. He gives himself some time to collect his thoughts, to hopefully let go of his foolishness.

How many more times will he have to remind himself that he only sees you as a friend?

to. my first date

January 2000

The snow crunches under his sneakers and makes Sunwoo slip on the cold surface– no wonder his mother screamed at him for not wearing his winter shoes before he went out with his friends. He bets it would be way less difficult to walk in the whiteness of the ground if he had more grip in the soles of his shoes, but oh well– he’s not really good at making clever decisions half the time. Nobody can really be surprised.

Somewhere along the way between the moment he’s interrogated his sister about the reason for her bad mood and the moment where he purposefully let her with his best friend at the top of the hill with no way out (he had a hunch the two of them had some things to talk about, from both of their uneasy demeanours for the last day), he realizes he lost both his sister and his best friend, and while he’s quite certain Eric can find his way home just fine, Sunwoo shivers at the thought of not bringing his sister home to his mother. He’s not quite sure he’d survive that.

The quest of finding you both begins the moment the friend group reaches the top of the hill. Given his sister’s impulsiveness, she could’ve ran away from home, and that’s not what he wants to deal with on such a pretty winter day.

Sunwoo finds his plan being successful the moment he reaches the hot chocolate stand. The victory he feels after finding his younger sister alive and healthy is quickly overshadowed with the sight of his best friend’s face close to hers, very clearly going in for a kiss. He thinks he has to do something before he is permanently scarred with the image of them two making out right in front of his eyes as he gathers some of the icy texture into his hands and makes a ball, aiming straight at the head of his best friend.

The snow hits the both of them, right in the middle where their faces are supposed to meet. It’s not quite where Sunwoo was aiming, but he figures it’s good enough– it stopped his sister and his friend in the act, and that’s all he really cares about at this moment.

“Eric Sohn, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” Sunwoo hollers, watching as his childhood friend takes off and leaves his sister alone on the bench to watch the conflict. The rest of the group follows with laughter as Sunwoo gathers more snow, tailing Eric and making sure the boy is punished for whatever he’s been doing.

It’s not like he disapproves. Not at all, actually. He just thinks it’s fun to mess with him a little.

“I didn’t mean to! Hey!” Eric cries out over his shoulder, trying his best to escape the frostbite. Karma is not on his side as he trips over something and falls to the ground, efficiently helping Sunwoo and the rest of their circle to corner the poor youngest, snow hailed on his limp figure.

One would think the group of them were making a snowman with how they’re rolling the poor boy around in the snow. Juyeon and Donghyuck make sure there’s not a hint of skin unhidden by the ice, making Eric mourn and kick around– he’s left helpless, though, outpowered and outnumbered by his peers. If anyone unknowing was watching the scene, Sunwoo is sure he’d be framed for bullying.

He thinks it’s quite deserved. Why? He’s not really sure why. He just has a hunch.

“Okay! Enough!” Eric mumbles, shaking his head when Donghyuck tries to fit snow into his mouth. “I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!” he says, eyes opening wide as MB!Y/N appears somewhere behind her older brother, a teasing pout settled on her face.

“It won’t?”

“MB!Y/N– I– Just help me..?” the boy pleads, making the rest of the group laugh and finally relax, easing the attack. Juyeon hums something about young love, making the rest of the guys roll their eyes on his unusual cheesiness, before Donghyuck taps his teammate’s shoulder, making sure he’s paying attention to him.

Sunwoo raises his eyebrows at him, waiting for what he has to say. “Look, isn’t that Y/N?”

There are a few ways to catch Sunwoo’s attention. First– you have to mention football. He could spend hours on the topic of who’s the best player– Ko Jongsoo or Ahn Junghwan? If anyone asked him to write an essay on it, he’s quite certain he’d do a great job explaining their techniques and goal statistics for numerous pages. Second– you have to mention food. He’s a big fan of junk food, but ever since his friend Juyeon introduced him to their family bakery, he’s been a big cinnamon roll enthusiast. And third– you have to mention Y/N.

Just the mention of your name is enough for the boy to stand alert, suddenly all too knowing of his surroundings. He turns his head to look for you, catching sight of your figure dressed in your long coat, standing all alone at the bottom of the hill. There’s an almost bored-looking expression on your face, although Sunwoo thinks there’s a bit of disappointment behind your eyes, making a cloud shade your them and make them lose their usual glimmer. That alone has the boy frowning, and before Donghyuck can say anything more or try to gossip about your sudden arrival, Sunwoo takes off– trying his hardest not to slip on the snow in his sneakers as he runs down the hill and tries his hardest to get to you quickly.

“Y/N!” he calls for you, getting your attention. You turn to him with expecting eyes, watching as the boy runs towards you and does, indeed, slip on the snow.

He manages to save it. Doesn’t mean you didn’t see him falter, though. “Careful there,” you grin, making the boy mentally kick himself in the shin at being uncool in front of you.

Sunwoo glosses over the comment, ignoring the previous two seconds of his life. If he acts like he’s not embarrassed, it might as well come true. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you’re hanging out with someone else when I invited you on the phone today,” he says, curious to know why you changed your plans so suddenly.

There’s a hint of bitterness in your composure when you shrug, averting your gaze. “That fell through, and I didn’t wanna… I figured you’d be here, so I came…” you trail off, your half-assed explanation enough to bring the boy into an inner conflict– one part of him feels bad for you, his heart clenching when he takes notice of your stern gaze and the disappointed expression on your face, the other one foolishly happy that he got to see you today, that you went here looking for him.

“Oh,” he nods, not really sure if he should pray more information out of you. He tried to ask you about it when he called you this morning, twirling the landline on his finger nervously when he asked you if you wanted to go sledding with him and his friends. He even mentioned his sister tagging along to make sure you didn’t feel as awkward going– you wouldn’t be the only girl there! You’d get along with her well, he said, not really sure if he was lying or not. Either way, his sister does need her own friends… “Well–” he starts, not really sure where his own sentence is going, before you cut him off with a rushed out sentence, spoken so quickly Sunwoo barely registers it in that confused brain of his.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” you ask, eyes big as you stare into his.

The question takes a few seconds to register in Sunwoo’s brain. He can physically feel the auditory waves entering his ears and converting themselves into electrical signals by the auditory system. The signals enter his left hemisphere– maybe he could point towards the area with his finger if you asked him to, the impact of the question so present in his mind– and then it decodes in the Wernicke’s area, slowly, but surely making more and more sense to him. The boy gulps at the invitation. He understands the question theoretically now, he’s registered it in his brain, but the practical implication of your preposition is still unclear– why in the hell would you ask him to go on a date with you?

“I…” he stutters, feeling heat rushing to his cheeks. He feels like a fool– he should’ve said yes a few seconds ago, when you first asked the question– but something inside of him is telling him that maybe his reaction is valid. No one expects their friend to randomly ask them out on the bottom of a snowy hill. Certainly not when he was 99% sure you liked someone else.

“Look, it’s- it’s good if you don’t want to, really, I just… I was supposed to go on a date with Shotaro today, but he never arrived, and I…” you nervously scratch your neck, once again averting your gaze from him, “I guess I was hoping you were in the mood to go out with me, since I got all ready and stuff…” you mumble, your tone of voice breaking something inside of him.

Oh. So you weren’t really asking him out. You just didn’t want to feel like a fool that got stood up. How stupid of Sunwoo to think you wanted to go on a date with him. The two of you were just friends, after all. Best friends.

And best friends are for cheering each other up. So despite feeling absolutely defeated, Sunwoo battles the weird feeling in his chest and puts on his best smile. “Of course! Don’t even mention it. Where… where did you wanna go?” he asks, watching as your face relaxes, shoulders falling back to their natural position.

“Are you in the mood for some ramen?” you ask, eyebrows rising in question.

“I’m always in the mood for some ramen,” he nods. He’s always in the mood for whatever you are.

“Great,” you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Great.”

“So… let’s go,” you say, nodding to yourself as you walk away from the hill, having your best friend tailing you, following you towards the ramen place in the center of the town.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence hanging over you as the two of you escape the sledding area. Sunwoo doesn’t even pay his goodbyes to his friends and his sister, but he trusts that Eric can get her home safely when the time comes to head back. The boy mentally curses out Shotaro for standing you up– how does he dare to ask you out and never arrive? He doesn’t care about the possible circumstances of his classmate’s absence. All he cares about is the saddened look on your face and the unusual quietness enveloping your aura.

“Should I go kick his ass?” he asks, trying his hardest to make you feel better.

“It’s okay, Sunwoo,” you shake your head in disapproval, eyes pressed to the ground.

“Are you sure?” he asks again, not satisfied with your answer. “I’m quite good at fighting, contrary to popular belief, but if things go wrong, I know my friends would have my back,” he says, playfully punching the air.

The little play consisting of him kicking and punching an imaginary figure goes on for a while until he’s satisfied– meaning: until you’re left laughing at his overly exaggerated movements and grunts, shaking your head in disbelief at his boyish antics. Taking his hand in yours to make him stop with the play-fighting, you drag your now interlocked fingers towards your coat pocket, hiding his cold hand in the thick fabric.

Sunwoo’s heart beats fast at that, making him believe it’s going to run out of his chest any minute now– or make him go into cardiac arrest, either or– as he grows speechless, looking at you with big, surprised eyes. You don’t seem to put much meaning to your gesture, going as far as gently caressing your thumb over the back of his palm, his frozen skin growing hot at the contact.

He’s never held hands with you before– if he doesn’t count the amount of times you dragged him around when the both of you were late for the shared cheerleading and football practice on Tuesday afternoons– and so the intimacy of the act makes him feel strangely weak in his knees. It’s hard for him to take his eyes off you, almost looking like a deer in the headlights to anyone watching you two right now. Sniffling from the cold, you shrug.

“It’s okay,” you smile, sending him a quick glance, “I didn’t really like him like that anyway. It just… feels a bit disappointing to get stood up, that’s all,” you nod.

Sunwoo nods at that too, something in him shifting. You don’t like Shotaro like that? When was this piece of information when he really needed it? (For like the last month, every time he couldn’t fall asleep because the thought of you marrying his classmate at one point in the future haunted him too much and made him want to poke the dance club leader’s eyes out?)

“I get it,” he says, walking along with you. Every time he feels the eyes of someone on you two, he feels his chest filling up with an unfamiliar sense of pride. Something about being seen with you as you’re all dolled up and holding his hand in your coat pocket makes him all giddy on the inside– no matter if this is a real date or not.

Because screw it, Kim Sunwoo is tired of reminding himself that he’s supposed to only see you as a friend. Because he doesn’t.

“I’ve never been on a date before, though, so you have to teach me all about that too,” he hums, tonguing the inside of his cheek.

That has a giggle escaping your throat, another shake of your head in disbelief at his words. He doesn’t know what’s so funny, but he decides that as long as you’re laughing, he’s fine with feeling the tiniest bit of humiliation. He’d do anything to make you happy, he thinks. It’s a feeling stronger than him and he doesn’t know how to make it go away– he decided to stop battling it a long time ago.

“Just be yourself, Sunwoo,” you say, “that’s already perfect enough.”

Perfect. Sunwoo’s cheeks grow hot at that. He’s happy that it’s cold out– maybe he could blame his blushing on the weather. The boy isn’t so sure you know about the effect your words have on him. He’s always thought of you as perfect– flawless, funny, friendly, smart, kind and… and beautiful– but the adjective doesn’t quite seem fitting when he looks at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t believe you could hold him to such standards. He’s nothing special. God, he knows he’s not good enough for you– still, he keeps wishing he could be.

“You look really pretty, by the way,” he hears himself say, the words escaping his mouth before he has the chance to stop them. The tone of his voice is quite unnatural in his ears, softer than it usually is, and somehow, the comment makes you roll your eyes, which he finds to be an unnatural reaction.

“You don’t have to say that just because you’re on a date with me,” you hum, eyes not meeting his. (Which might be a good thing. Sunwoo would like to keep his feelings hidden for a bit longer, and he’s not so sure you wouldn’t recognise the tender inkling he has towards you in his longing gaze.)

“I’m not saying it because of that,” he mutters, voice quiet, yet honest.

Watching the side of your face, eyes still glued at every feature of your profile, he knows he’s not lying. He finds you oh so pretty even in the faint hue of the winter sun, with your scarf pulled up to the middle of your chin and hair pinned up with a pretty, silky bow. He finds you nothing short of angelic. Perfect. It’s kind of silly, if he really thinks about it.

Still, he can’t help himself. To this day, he counts the afternoon he spent with you, eating ramen at your favorite place, to be the first date he’s ever gone on.

Somewhere in the corner of his soul, he begs you count it as real too.

August 2007

It’s only a couple of days later when you find yourself in front of Juyeon’s father’s bakery, nervously chewing on your bottom lip and gazing at the glass door. The sun is shining strongly down on your skin, making you feel like you’re going to get a sun stroke if you keep standing in the direct light for any longer, and with the pressure of both the weather and your own thoughts, you decide to stop wasting time and push the door open, entering the establishment.

Not really sure if you’re welcome– who knows, Sunwoo might have just been acting nice and civil for the sake of not ruining his sister’s wedding– you prepared a mental shopping list of things you wanted to get at the bakery. You hadn’t seen your parents in a long time, so you thought a few donuts might make them happy. If Sunwoo just treats you like any regular customer when you walk in, you’ll take it as your sign to act like one and let this whole thing go.

Truth be told, you don’t even know why you’re so nervous. It’s not like you’re promising yourself something more from this… right?

It’s not like you suddenly felt younger again when seeing him at the wedding. It’s not like the memories choked you up when you went to sleep that night, it’s not like the feelings you had for the young boy suddenly waved at you in greeting, reminding you of just how close the two of you were all those years ago.

Not at all. Why would anyone even think that?

The ring above the door makes a sound as you walk in, your insides clenching in a weird mix of nerves and anxiety at encountering Kim Sunwoo again. The store is empty when you reach the counter, but you’re soon greeted by the sound of the staff door opening, a tall figure stumbling in with a tray of pastries, yelling out a quick: “I’ll be right there!”

And as you watch Sunwoo with his bangs sticking to his forehead, an apron tied tightly around his thin waist, you feel like he hasn’t aged a single day and you two are still the same teenagers that ran around your school in order to not miss practice. The boy looks up at you from below his eyelashes, a boyish grin taking over his features as he puts the hot tray down on the counter and throws the kitchen towel he’s been using to shield his skin from the heat to the side, greeting you.

“Y/N! It’s nice seeing you again,” he beams, wiping his hands on his apron, gaze gluing to yours and never leaving, capturing you in a sincere eye contact that you don’t have the heart to break.

“Hi, Sunwoo,” you chuckle, pressing your lips into an honest, yet a little bit awkward smile. “How’s it going?” you ask, desperate to keep the conversation going– afraid that if it dies down, you won’t be able to revive it ever again and you’ll just regret it forever. There’s a weird sense of urgency in you, like you have a time limit to figure everything out– like you have to act now, or everything you ever wanted might slip from between your fingertips– yet, the more you watch Sunwoo in the serene atmosphere of the sweet-smelling bakery, you notice yourself relaxing.

“Good! Better now that you’re here, actually, it’s been a slow day,” he muses, nodding to himself. “What about you? Can I get you anything?” he asks, eyebrows raising, round cheeks on full display as he stares at you with an expecting smile.

“I’m doing well,” you nod, humming, “really well… catching up with my parents, settling in and stuff… You know the deal,” you laugh. “I actually came to get some donuts for my parents, sort-of like a thank you gift for letting me stay until I figure out my own place and stuff,” you say, watching as Sunwoo urgently nods with acknowledgement.

“Say less, darling,” the nickname slips out from him a little too easily, a little too casually for the way it captures your heart. It has you nervously shifting from one foot to another, insides warming up with the impact of his fleeting gaze as he moves to get a box from under the counter, moving closer to the glass vitrine filled with the sweet pastry. “Your mum loves these ones,” he points towards the donuts coated with the pink glazing.

It’s kind of weird– how Sunwoo knows exactly what your mother likes, despite him not being around your house every other day like when the two of you were teenagers. It makes you realize that even though you moved away for years, the time here didn’t stop. Everyone moved on with their lives, everyone continued on as if nothing happened. And you can’t hold it against them– you guess you just hate the weird pit in your stomach that opens up with the realization that while Sunwoo knows which pastries your mum likes (most likely because she stops by to buy bread often, taking some treats with her for her and dad while she’s at it), you don’t.

You try hard not to show it on your face, though. Sunwoo continues to pack more donuts into the box, not really attempting to ask you for what you’d like– he just chooses himself, making sure you bring home the best ones of the bunch, the most delicious ones they carry. Letting him do his work, merely watching as he carefully moves the donuts from the vitrine to the box, you hear him continue on with the conversation.

“You came in on the right day,” Sunwoo hums, “Juyeon works tomorrow, so you wouldn’t be able to catch me if you went.”

Ignoring the fact that he sees right through you– sees that your intention was to see him, to have a way to visit him and attempt to rekindle whatever bond you had when you were young– you just chuckle. You can’t blame him for knowing you so well, despite not being around each other for so many years. When you were young and in love, you used to call him your soulmate, after all. You guess there’s always a hint of truth, even in the most lovesick fantasies. “Well, then I’m glad I went in today,” you admit.

Sunwoo smiles at that– the kind of smile you always loved at him, the one where he shows his teeth and his eyes crinkle up into moon crescents. Once he’s done packing your donuts, he puts the box on the counter, showing you his back just as fast when he turns around, seemingly grabbing something else as well. When he’s facing you again, there’s a sweet pastry in his hand, still warm.

“What’s that?” you ask when you notice him offering it to you, eyes peering into his.

“A cinnamon roll,” he says, waiting for you to take it into your hands, “I told you everyone goes crazy over my cinnamon rolls, so I wanna see if their magic works on you too.”

“Is this how you flirt with girls over here?” you chuckle, but take the bun into your hand nonetheless, taking a hesitant bite of the treat. The sweetness melts on your tongue, the warmth of the freshly-baked pastry enchanting you with its taste, something about its essence weirdly reminding you of home.

“Haven’t tried it before,” he shrugs, “so tell me if it’s working,” he jokes, watching as you chew on the roll.

“Well, is it any good?”

Humming in satisfaction, delight on the tip of your tongue as you swallow down the heavenly dough, you nod. “It’s to die for, Sunwoo.”

“Told you,” he shoots you a cheesy finger-gun, reminding you so much of your best friend from high school, before he turns and takes a paper bag from somewhere, talking to you as his back faces you again, “I’ll get you some more to take home with you. I bet they didn’t have those in the Big Apple.”

“If I knew I was missing out on these, I would have come back quicker,” you joke, watching as Sunwoo turns to you with an amused look on his face, seemingly enjoying the praise.

The eye contact unarms you again, your composure falling just the slightest. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you clear your throat and reach for your wallet, ready to pay and leave so you can think about the interaction on your way home (and overthink every slightest detail, just like teenage you would after every fleeting touch young Sunwoo would send your way). “How much do I owe you?” you ask.

“Oh, it’s on the house,” he says, licking his lips, “consider it a… welcome gift, if you will,” he hums, offering you the box full of donuts and the paper bag consisting his infamous cinnamon rolls, your skin touching just the slightest when you take them from him, but still making electricity jolt through the nerve endings of your fingertips.

“No, Sunwoo, I really can’t-” you shake your head, but get caught off by him.

“Take them, please. You can pay me back some… other time?” he cautiously says, seemingly not really knowing if he’s still within your desired boundaries.

“O-okay, then,” you nod, agreeing to the subtle invitation– the subtle promise to meet again, the hopeful question leading into something more. “Thank you, Sunwoo,” you hum, smiling as you turn towards the door and get prepared to walk out, giving both of you some time to think about what happened in the last few minutes.

As you open your mouth to say goodbye to him, hand landing on the doorknob, you hear him call after you once more.

“Oh and Y/N?” he says, a confident look suddenly overtaking his features. “I end here at 5, if you’d like to hang out after.”

Unknowingly, a grin appears on your features, the one that’s so strong you can’t really mask it no matter how hard you try– as you nod at him, the victorious feeling flowing through your veins maybe even a bit dangerous. Still, you don’t have it in you to turn the invitation down– you wouldn’t be able to even in your wildest dreams.

This is what you came here for, after all, isn’t it?

“Okay,” you agree. “So… I’ll see you later?”

“See you later,” he nods, teeth capturing his bottom lip. It’s kind of adorable. He couldn’t battle the smile threatening to pull at the corners of his mouth, no matter how hard he tried.

Maybe coming here– coming back home– was the best thing you could’ve done.

“Wanna come in?” Sunwoo asks. It’s a few hours later– you followed through with his invitation and waited for him in front of the bakery at 5:05 sharp, catching him after his shift. You two took a walk through the whole town, waltzing slowly through his neighborhood until you reached his childhood house. You remember far too many afternoons spent in the comfort of the walls, and although you think it would be nice to revisit those memories, you notice his mother’s car (is it still hers? You have no way of knowing.) in the driveway, and suddenly, you’re too shy to join him as he drops his stuff off in his house.

It’s like you’re a teenager again– except, you never had any problems meeting his mother before. She was a nice woman, although a little busy (you only heard Sunwoo complain about the fact a few times– mainly when he was feeling sentimental or particularly under the weather about something), and she always treated you very nicely. Almost like you were supposed to join the family one day. His sister once asked you if you’re gonna marry him, and you laughed at her back then– you were so young, you didn’t even think of having a wedding with Kim Sunwoo. The funniest thing was the timing: you weren’t even dating him at the time. Or planning to, really. Sure, you always imagined somehow spending the rest of your life with him, in one way or another, but the thought of marriage didn’t often cross your mind. Life is ironic, you think– MB!Y/N was the first one to have a wedding and here you are, retangling your life paths with her brother again.

So no, you were never really scared or shy in front of his mother. Back then, things were different though. Simpler? You’d say they were definitely easier. You were more extroverted and open, more ambitious and less embarrassed of how your life turned out to be.

Also, you didn’t want to give her any ideas. It’s far too soon for that, you think.

“No,” you shake your head, hesitating a little bit, “I’ll wait for you here,” you say, watching as he smiles at you and nods, walking inside of the house to drop off his things and change.

You two didn’t really have any plans for the rest of the evening. You told Sunwoo he could show you around town, tell you what changed and what stayed exactly the same, since he came home earlier than you– you bet it could be two or three years ago. He eagerly nodded, although noted that not much is different in your hometown and your walk could turn out pretty uneventful. No plans were set in stone, though.

Nervously shuffling from one foot to another, you decide to walk around the yard. Sunwoo’s house was always big– although it seemed more giant to you when you were a teenager. It’s a strange observation, since you didn’t really grow any more inches since you hit puberty. Your eyes study the flowers in front of the gate, the mowed grass, the big tree in the backyard. If you focus hard enough, you could almost see the two of you laying under it, letting the leaves shield you from the sun, both much younger and carefree than now. Sunwoo would show you pages of his favorite comic books and you’d play on your Tamagochi, making sure it doesn’t die in two days like his did when he first got it. When you turn to your right, you see the garden house you two– sometimes with his sister, sometimes with Eric, sometimes with both of them at once– spent many afternoons in.

There used to be an old, red sofa inside. There wasn’t much space, since it was filled with gardening supplies, Sunwoo’s and MB!Y/N’s old bikes, flower pots, packs of soil and all other things you could need for gardening, but it was fun to hide away from the sun in there and drink iced tea, talking about whatever came to your minds or solving nanogram puzzles in comfortable silence (or occasional sigh from Eric when he got stuck somewhere in the middle of his crosswords).

Your curiosity gets the best of you when you open the door, deciding to see if it’s still the same inside. Your eyes widen when you notice the garden house a little less packed than before– mainly because Sunwoo’s mother no longer does gardening in her free time and buys her vegetables on the market like your mum does, you presume– but instead, it’s full of all the things the childhood you knew so well.

Sunwoo’s old bike– red and a little rusty, but you bet it could still work. The rug they used to have in their dining room is now in the middle of the little garden house, stained with dirt. Next to the usual red sofa is a leather armchair that they used to have in their living room for a while, the dark brown fabric now worn out, chapped and peeling off. In the corner of the room, you find a box filled with various sports equipment– tennis rackets, a yellow tennis ball, a jumping rope, and lastly, a half-deflated football. The sight of it has you sighing a little, reminding you of Sunwoo’s composure when he told you about how he never got to pursue his childhood dream fully.

Your eyes glaze towards his old skateboard, having you chuckle, the memories of him riding it down the hill in front of his house appearing in your mind. Sometimes, he would be there with his sister and his childhood friend Eric as well (that more often than not let MB!Y/N borrow the board, watching her with lovesick eyes instead of riding it himself), the young boy trying to teach himself tricks he saw on the TV.

“Do you think I still got it?” you suddenly hear Sunwoo ask from behind your shoulder, making you jump in surprise. The male laughs at your shocked face, shaking his head in disbelief at your easily shaken composure.

“You scared me,” you breathe out, clutching your chest for good measure, to show him how much you really mean it– your heart was racing, and contrary to popular belief, the sight of him in casual attire (a gray hoodie, so similar to the one he used to wear in high school, baggy Adidas sweatpants covering his legs) wasn’t the reason for the little heart attack.

“So did you!” he exclaims. “I got outside and didn’t see you there, I thought you ran away for a second,” he hums.

“As if,�� you mumble, “I walked all the way here, why would I leave so suddenly?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs, “you could’ve changed your mind, or something,” he says, his composure suddenly as boyish as when he was just a teenager, something in your heart softening. You guess he sometimes still carries some of the same insecurities he tried so hard to mask when he was young. Some things don’t really change, but you really wish at least this would’ve.

Smiling at him, you shake your head. “I don’t think you still got it, though,” you go back to reply to his initial question, pointing towards the skateboard.

“Well, who knows,” he peeps, “maybe I could do an Ollie, or something.”

“I really don’t think you could, Sunwoo,” you laugh softly, watching him regain his statement competitiveness.

“Wanna bet?”

“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t want you to break your bones, so let’s just say I believe you,” you giggle, watching as the boy mirrors your expression, his gaze softening.

A short moment of silence overtakes you two as you sigh and look around the garden house, instinctively taking a seat on the red sofa covered in dust. You bet it’s been years since anyone’s sat on it, and you’re glad to be the one revisiting its comfort. It’s like solidifying your return– like the old piece of forgotten furniture in Sunwoo’s garden house is the spawn point of your childhood. “Doesn’t this make you nostalgic?” you ask, eyeing your companion.

“Well, I live here,” he shrugs, “so not as much as it makes you, I suppose. Having you here again makes it more nostalgic, though, I’ll give you that.”

His words have you overcome with something bittersweet. Seeing the town you love so much makes you almost regret you ever left. The rational side of your brain reminds you that you gained a lot of experience abroad, though, and so you settle with being just a little bit remorseful of your past self for being so overly-ambitious.

“It’s weird,” you allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of him, the essence of him being your best friend– your first love, the first person you ever felt safe with– overtaking you in the moment of weakness, “it’s like everybody moved on, but I stayed here.”

“Well, not everybody moved on,” Sunwoo hums, referring to himself. “Juyeon stayed, too. Eric and MB!Y/N are moving only a few hours away… Haknyeon lives down the street now,” he points out, a poor attempt at making you feel better.

“Yeah… it’s just… I hoped I would do big things. I hoped we would both do big things,” you say, tone of voice quiet, your eyes avoiding him. It’s hard to keep eye contact with him when you share your struggles– at least that’s the way it always was when you were young. The look he offered you always made you feel so tender, so cared for that you wanted to burst out crying. In your age and state, you can’t afford to tear up in front of your ex-boyfriend anymore.

“Sometimes, things don’t work out the way we want them to,” Sunwoo says, tone of voice considerate. “And that’s fine. I wanted to be a star, and I’m not, but that’s okay, because hey… I’m happy anyway. I’m content. And I know that one day, you’ll be too. It just takes a bit of time.”

Snickering, you play with your fingers in your lap, legs plopping up and crossed, striking an almost defensive pose. “Were you… were you embarrassed when you came back?” you ask.

Sunwoo laughs, the sound so heartfelt it makes your insides squeeze. “Terribly. I mean, look at me in my mid-twenties, still living with my mother. Even back then, I felt like a failure. I felt like a disappointment, but… then I realized not everyone had the opportunities I had. Not everyone almost made it professional, you know, and that’s still something to be proud of.”

“I’m still living with my mother, but hey– she’s getting older and the house is big. MB!Y/N moved out, and I wouldn’t want my mum to get lonely… so I think I’m doing pretty well, given the circumstances,” he says. Pausing for a heartbeat, as if collecting his thoughts, he continues. “I think you should find the positives in your situation too. Not everyone got to live in New York... Work for the national TV… That’s still a huge achievement, and I think you should be proud of yourself for that.”

Rolling your eyes– although grateful to hear the words– you snicker. “It’s hard to do that right now…”

“I know,” he nods, smiling when you finally look at him. “It takes time. And until then, well, for what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you. And maybe… maybe you coming back home is how life’s supposed to go anyways.”

Biting down on your lower lip to stop yourself from tearing up– see, you knew you shouldn’t have looked the boy in the eyes during his little pep talk– there’s suddenly a weight leaving your shoulders, heart softening and growing more tender. Your wounds seem to sting a little less. It’s strange– even after so many years, he still knows just the words you need to hear.

“Yeah,” you nod, voice barely louder than a whisper, a soft smile playing with your lips, “maybe.”

to. my first kiss

March 2000

His eyes stay glued to the TV in your living room, the boy almost looking hypnotized as he focuses on the program running, furrowed brows and all, showing his utmost concentration. A sigh lands into his ears, but goes unnoticed when you enter the room, a scowl sitting on your face. “Sunwoo! I told you to watch the oven! What if the cookies burn?”

“Yeah…” he mumbles, not a single word coming out of your mouth truly registering in his brain.

“Sunwoo!” you grunt, but when you get no reply, you just choose to roll your eyes and walk into your kitchen yourself, opening the oven and making sure the cookies you two have been baking haven’t burned down into coal yet. Not long after, you plop on the sofa next to your best friend, tone of voice still showing a bit of frustration at his carelessness.

“You shit on Eric for watching those, but you’re just as bad,” you hum as you notice the kdrama going on in the TV. It’s one of the ones that hardly make any sense and each scene is overly-exaggerated and repeated at least twice to create impact, but Sunwoo finds himself living for the drama. Each argument has him examining the scene, mentally rooting for his favorite characters– and although he is busy with football practice nowadays, he doesn’t skip a single episode of Happy Together.

It’s not as entertaining as the manga comics he borrows from Hyunjae’s father’s comic shop, but he figures that it’s good enough to pass some time… and indulge over.

“I think they’re gonna kiss,” he notes, pointing towards the screen.

“Oh, good point, Sherlock Holmes,” you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief. If there was something you’d expect out of your friend, it seemingly wasn’t his enjoyance of cheesy dramas that air in the afternoon hours of the week.

And Sunwoo admits, he was never the one to enjoy romance. Hell, it was something he always made fun of when it came to his friend Eric– he was not the one to watch romantic comedies, he wasn’t the one to tell girls cheesy lines or bring them flowers on Valentine’s day. He does seem to be enjoying the laughable scenes rolling on the TV a little too much lately, though.

Maybe he should start hanging out with Eric less.

The scene slowly transforms into close-ups of the two main characters, showing them instinctively closing their eyes and leaning towards each other, eyes trained on each other’s lips. It doesn’t take much to predict the next actions, but Sunwoo still finds himself restless in his seat when they finally kiss, legs kicking up and a gasp escaping his mouth. One would think he won the lottery or was just greeted with the greatest surprise ever, with how he’s reacting. None of the two are true, though.

“Oh, wow,” you hum next to him, seemingly not really interested in the drama as much as your best friend is.

“You’re ruining it,” Sunwoo sighs, looking at you as you roll your eyes and settle deeper into the couch cushions.

“Oh, sorry,” you note, but your composure stays a bit annoyed.

Sunwoo watches the TV for some more– the scene of the two characters kissing stays on the screen, slowed-down and repeated, in the true 90s TV show fashion– before his eyes trail off the device and move towards you, glazing your side profile. He takes notice of your casual attire– you changed out of your school uniform in the time he was supposed to watch the cookies baking in the oven, and something in his stomach churns, making him blurt out the random question that so suddenly appears on the tip of his tongue.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” he asks, genuinely curious. He doesn’t even know why the response matters to him so much– he also doesn’t really know what reply he’d like to hear better, if he’s being honest– but now it’s out in the open and he can’t take it back.

“Hm?” you hum, snapping your head towards him. “Oh. Yeah, I guess…”

“You guess..?” Sunwoo repeats, furrowing his brows. How can one not be sure?

“Well– yeah. It only happened once, though,” you shrug. It takes everything in Sunwoo to not ask who you kissed and when, or under what circumstances, and decide to despise that person until the day he dies. It’s not his business and he shouldn’t even care in the first place… He can’t say he’s disappointed in your answer– it’s your life and your decisions– but something inside of him screams that now, he can’t be your first no matter how hard he’d try. (It’s not like you’d want to kiss Sunwoo anyway, so he really doesn’t know why he’s making such a big deal about it.)

“What about you?” you ask, the question catching the poor boy off guard. He didn’t necessarily expect you to ask him back– so much to his title of Sherlock Holmes– and the reality that he can’t lie to you takes him out in full force as he bashfully stares out of the window.

“No,” he peeps, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

There’s something embarrassing about admitting to the girl you like that even at the ripe age of 19, you’ve never kissed anyone before. Shame creeps up his neck and adorns his cheeks after the simple word slips out of his mouth, eyes refusing to meet yours.

“Really?” you ask, and you sound genuinely surprised– there’s a hint of Sunwoo’s ego recovering, but he thinks the hit was too hard for him to ever recover.

“Yup,” he says, a popping sound heard as his lips voice out the last consonant, the view of him playing with his own fingers suddenly more interesting than anything else happening in your living room right at this moment.

“I thought– nevermind,” you hum, scratching the back of your neck, “why are you asking?”

“Just… just curious, I guess…?” he stummers, shrugging.

A moment of silence overtakes you two– enough to make the boy instantly hate everything he’s ever said on the matter. If there could open up a hole in the ground right now to swallow him, he’d jump in with much enthusiasm. Why did he have to ask?

“Do you wanna try?” you suddenly propose, making the boy’s heart feel like it burst and threw him into a cardiac arrest. His hands start sweating, his cheeks tint red and it feels like all oxygen was suddenly sucked out of the living room, his lungs collapsing on themselves.

You seem to try to save the situation, noticing the utter shock on his face. “I mean– you don’t have to, but I… I wouldn’t mind, and it’s– I don’t know… if you wanted to practice with me, or something, I’d be down to…” you stutter, chewing on your bottom lip as you finish the little tangent, terror evident in your eyes.

Sunwoo feels like a little boy that just found his favorite gift under the Christmas tree. Like he found the most pricey toy there, the one he always wanted, and now that it’s there, he’s scared to actually play with it, because he doesn’t want to break it. Much like your friendship, he thinks. There’s too much to lose if he crosses this line, and he’s very much aware.

But the offer seems tempting. Almost too tempting. God, he doesn’t think he could say no.

He may not be your first kiss, but you’re asking to be his. This sounds like a dream, if he really thinks about it.

“You know what? Just forget–”

“I’d– I’d like that…” he mumbles, trying really hard not to avert his gaze from you.

Your gaze softens, nodding your head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“Okay,” you nod again, moving a little closer to him. Your knees knock into the side of his thigh, your whole figure now facing him on the sofa as his legs still point forward to the TV. He keeps staring at you, a little nervous, but expectant. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do it just because–”

“I’m sure,” he cuts you off, watching as your face relaxes, a smile appearing on your lips at the next addition. “I want to.”

“Okay.”

You move impossibly closer, your crossed legs in contact with his clothed skin. He curses the thin fabric of the pants of his school uniform for making him feel every slightest flex of your muscles when you move, making his skin flare up and burn. He keeps staring at you, watching you as you lean closer to him, your faces now inches away from each other. Sunwoo finds himself focusing on every feature of your face, counting the eyelashes framing your eyes, glazing over the sparkles in your orbs. You stay close for a minute, unmoving.

Eyes locking, Sunwoo finds himself gasping a little, breathing shuddering when he notices your gaze falling to his lips. Your breathing mixes, air meeting his face when you breathe out a minty breeze. His heart is already racing and you’re not even doing anything.

When he finds you finally moving towards him and notices your eyes shutting close, he mirrors your actions, but stays unmoving. After what feels like eternity, he feels something soft pressing to his lips, warmth spreading from that part of his face to the rest of his body. The contact of your lips with his is gentle, like you’re testing the waters, and although the feeling is unfamiliar, Sunwoo decides he doesn’t hate it.

The weird firework show in his stomach actually suggests that he’s quite enjoying it. Your lips break away from his for a bit, rewarding him with only a peck, and before the boy has the chance to think this is it and it’s over, you dive in for more and kiss him again, this time longer, more firmer.

Your hands come up to cradle his cheeks, holding him close. He feels himself burning up, his composure completely crumbling when he feels you smile against his lips.

“You know you can kiss back, right?”

“Mhm,” he hums, opening his eyes to see you staring at him with a tender look.

“Try it,” you say, hands gently coming up to brush his bangs away from his face. If anyone was looking at the two of you now, Sunwoo thinks they’d conclude that you two were in love.

And maybe Sunwoo was, by the way he was looking up at you like you hung the stars on the sky. By the way he was staring at you with such a vulnerable look he feared you might see right through him, see right to his core and call him out on every unconfessed word hiding in his heart. He looks a little scared, a little tense, still, but his eyes don’t lie. They never do. There’s no one else that could make him feel the way you do.

“Okay,” he nods, moving in his position so he’s facing you, ready for more.

He mirrors your previous motions, leaning towards your face. He wets his lips and closes his eyes when he’s sure he’s close enough to not miss your mouth, and after another deep breath in to calm his nerves, he presses against you. He feels you freezing under him, a momentary panic spreading all over his chest as he thinks he’s done something wrong, before he feels you kissing him back.

A whole other sensation takes over him when he feels your lips moving against his, his fingertips buzzing when he drags his hand up and moves your hair behind your shoulder, large hand resting on your jaw. He’s not sure if he’s doing this correctly– hell, he’s never done this before– but after you move a bit and entangle your hands behind his neck, pressing against him a bit more firmly, yet still tender and gentle like the first time, he recognises that somehow, it feels right, and he thinks that’s all evaluation he needs for now.

The need for oxygen makes him break away from you, breathing heavily as he opens his eyes and finds you resting your forehead against his, smiling. “Like that?” he asks, shamelessly staring at your wet lips, already yearning for more.

“Something like that,” you nod, giggling. “You still need more practice, though,” you suggest, making the boy frown.

“Was it that ba–”

Rolling your eyes at him, frustrated at the way he always needs everything spelled out for him, refusing to take a hint, you press your lips against his again, teeth clashing a little when Sunwoo picks up the pace and kisses you back. The TV is a mere white noise in the background now, everything around you two disappearing, all of Sunwoo’s senses focused on you and only you. He could get lost in the way you taste– like strawberry bubblegum you bought at the store on the corner of the street– and the way you feel against him– soft, tender, warm.

He feels like he could burst. He knows his hands are a bit sweaty, but he’s only half aware of the fact when his palms move to hold your cheeks, much like you did to him before, and your hands entangle in his hair, playing with the strands.

He could stay like this forever, blissfully unaware of the consequences of this act. He could kiss you over and over and over again, even if it meant he was still bad at it and needed more practice– he could get lost in your scent, in the tender way you hold him to you, in the way you keep smiling against his lips whenever he does something to surprise you: like get a little bolder and angle your head by your chin with his thumb, getting more comfortable.

He’s glad he’s sitting down, because he’s quite sure his knees are too weak to carry him right now. When you break away from him again, lips swollen and eyes blown-out, he thinks you might just be an angel. He’d love to engrave this image into his memories forever.

Although, he’s doubtful that he could ever forget about this. Or anything about you, really.

And even as you suddenly gasp, finally aware of the world around you, running to the kitchen and screaming: “Sunwoo! We forgot about the cookies!”,

he wonders just what more you could teach him about life. He’d follow you to the end of the world if you asked him to, holding your hand in his and not thinking twice. He’d bring you down a star, if you only so expressed you would like one. He’d do anything.

You taught him what friendship is. You taught him what it means to care for someone. What it means to have someone special. You taught him how to drink (although by scolding him when he was hungover. He felt cared for even with your stern gaze). You taught him how to slow dance– even though you spent the prom with someone else. Just now, you taught him how to kiss.

And although you’re unaware, he’s quite certain that when he’s 19 years old, spending each of his days with you, although unaware, you taught him how to love someone too.

August 2007

You feel kind of silly, standing in front of the bakery as the sun sets over the horizon, the clock striking near 5 in the afternoon as you gnaw on your fingernails and hesitate a little before coming in. Pushing the door open and slipping inside, the male currently sweeping the floor looks over at you, a look of pleasant surprise sitting at his face and a sunny smile sent your way upon your arrival.

You don’t really know why you keep running back to him. The whole town reeks of familiarity to you, every corner and inch of each street filled with the essence of your childhood and your whole growing up. It’s not like you don’t have anything else to ground yourself back to, but somehow, your inner voice always keeps calling for Sunwoo. It’s weird– it’s been ages and you shouldn’t feel like this around someone who you haven’t even properly dated for that long, if you don’t count the few months before he left– but it’s something you can’t control, an essence you can’t hold back.

“Y/N,” he calls for you, “what are you doing here?” he asks as he continues his routinal cleaning, putting the broom away behind the counter.

It’s a stupid question. You bet he realizes it too, but you’re somehow glad he is taking initiative. This way, you don’t have to be the first one to spark the conversation. This way, you know you’re welcome.

“Oh, well,” you shrug, “I’m… looking for you…?” you say, tone of voice suggesting that you’re hesitant, almost a little shy to admit it to yourself.

Maybe you’re foolish for feeling this way. Because you know what all those things mean– you know what the lightness in your stomach is, what the giddy feeling resonating through you whenever the male smiles at you is. You know that thinking about someone constantly, more so before you sleep, isn’t an usual occurrence with someone you pay no attention to, with someone you don’t care about. You’ve been in love before– with the same man that’s standing right in front of you as well, funnily enough. You know what this all means.

But with how he’s inviting you in, letting you into his little bubble, you think it’s not as bad of a thing. He’s not pushing you away. He’s not building bridges. He’s the same way he was all those years ago, and you’d hate to find out that all of this wasn’t something more and was just him being nice.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” he chuckles, wiping his hands on the apron still tied around his waist. “I’m off in a few, though, so if you want anything from the bakery–”

“I’m not here for the food,” you laugh, dismissing him with a wave of your hand. The boldness is unusual for the present you– there’s a hint of your past shining through whenever you are with the boy, though. Maybe you like this sense of familiarity. Maybe you like to feel real again– maybe you like to feel like yourself. It’s hard to admit it, but you did lose your sense of identity after moving abroad. It’s hard to stay true to yourself with so many new people around and with so many expectations and responsibilities. The pressure changes you, and you now rely on Kim Sunwoo to bring you back to default– to where you’re supposed to be.

“Okay, then,” he nods, thankfully not making a big deal out of your desperate visit, “what would you like to do?” he asks, eyes sparkling under the lights when he looks at you. It’s like an open invitation– he gives you the chance to tell him how you’d like to spend your time with him. He did this a lot when you two were younger as well. It felt good to have someone that would make the effort to enjoy your hobbies with you– no matter how disinterested he could be in the matter.

“Hang out… I guess…?” you hum, shrugging. You didn’t really have anything planned. All you knew was that you wanted to be with him. It’s like the heart’s calling– you don’t know when your inner monologue got so cliche.

“Anything specific?” he asks.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shake your head in disapproval. You fear that you disappointed him, let him down in some way– you came all the way here, after all. You could’ve made something up on the way, couldn’t you? But still– just like the Sunwoo you once knew, so lively and full of ideas– he just purses his lips for a second before speaking the suggestion into existence.

“Well… do you want to bake with me? Like the old times?” he says, sending you a look full of warm honey.

You wouldn’t say no to that invitation. You’d be crazy to do so.

The Kim Sunwoo you used to bake cookies with in the comfort of your kitchen back home wasn’t so skilled in making the dough like he is now. He wasn’t so good at knowing the recipe from memory, nor was he gifted with the kitchen appliances he has now, all professional and shiny, reserved just for the use of the bakery. You don’t really know if he even had the love for baking in him back then– you just know you two enjoyed your time together, and when you are young, that’s all you really cared about anyway. It didn’t matter that he let the cookies burn sometimes. It didn’t really matter that they didn’t turn out well on some days– all morphing into one big block, making you cut the dough into pieces so you could eat it when you accidentally added too much butter.

He still looks the same, though. A few years older, but with the same boyish aura to him when he wipes dirty hands on his apron. All grown up now, but still with the same glint in his eye whenever he looks up at you in between your conversations. When you’re with him, you no longer feel the distance between who you are and who you used to be, the distance between you and him. It’s like the old days, but a little better.

Maybe you have more time now.

The two of you work on the cookie dough, enveloped in a comfortable conversation. “You have to add more sugar,” Sunwoo hums from next to you, watching as you work on the mixture.

“Isn’t it funny how I was the one always giving you directions when we baked together and now you’re the one ordering me around?” you laugh, taking the sugar from the counter and sprinkling more in, listening to the opinion of a professional.

“Well, my cookies don’t turn into one big blob of dough anymore,” he jokes, laughing. “Besides, it’s my job now, so you’d kind of expect me to be good at it.”

“You can’t be so sure of that…” you hum, shaking your head.

“Why? Do you have any experience with being bad at your job?”

“Oh you bet I do,” you laugh, nodding. “I was an intern before, Sunwoo. A colleague of mine once tried to console me by saying being an intern means being bad at the job, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but I still cried myself to sleep multiple nights,” you conclude, thinking back to your New York endeavors.

“That bad?” Sunwoo asks empathetically.

“Yeah. Mixed up everyone’s coffee order on my first day. When I was confronted about it, I tried to play it off by saying I don’t have a good memory…” you muse.

“Well, it’s hard to remember a lot of stuff at once, to be fair–”

“I was getting coffee for three people, Sunwoo. Objectively speaking, it shouldn’t be as hard…” you say, now thinking back to the events of your internship with more humor than embarrassment.

Sunwoo laughs at your story, shaking his head in disbelief. “Not worse than my teammate back in Boston. The first match of the season, he scored a goal against our own team. His reasoning? He used to play against the goalie back in high school, so he got confused.”

The boy takes over at making the dough once it’s the turn to add in the chocolate chips, glancing at you momentarily when you laugh at his anecdote. Watching him from the side, you heave out through your laughs. “That’s actually hilarious,” you get out, washing your hands in the sink. “What about some funny stories about yourself, though?”

“Don’t have any. I’m too perfect to humiliate myself like that,” he notes, pressing his lips together and raising his eyebrows at you in an ironic expression, nodding.

“Oh, as if–”

“How is it?” he asks you suddenly in the middle of the sentence, seemingly done with kneading the mixture. Sunwoo puts the cookie dough in front of your lips, waiting for you to taste it. You’d do it all the time when you were both teenagers, but back then, the gesture didn’t feel half as intimate as the mere image of it does now.

Locking eyes with the male, you hesitantly open your mouth and let him put the dough into it, tasting the sweetness on your tongue. Sunwoo’s eyes darken, as if he’s just realized what he’s done, the weight of the situation falling down on him as your tongue comes in contact with the skin of his fingertips. Gulping, he watches as you suck the tip of his digit into your mouth, getting all last remains of the sweetness off of it, something in the air shifting towards a direction you didn’t expect from tonight.

“Good,” you nod, licking your lips, “delicious.”

Seconds turn to what feels like eternities as you stop all motion and look into each other’s eyes, finding any hint of disapproval with the so obvious turn of events. His chocolate orbs peer into yours, making you ignite with something close to an urge you can’t control, his eyes anchoring themselves to the curve of your lips when you decide to let go of all anxiety and insecurities and just go for it. The cookie dough was sweet, but you’ve never tasted anything sweeter than Sunwoo’s lips. You might just have to refresh your mind, you think.

Leaning closer to him, your breathing mixing in the few centimeters left between your mouths, you relish in the déja vu this action brings you. It feels like yesterday, yet also centuries ago since you last kissed the male, and although you’re sure you enjoyed it back then, you wish you could’ve told the younger you to kiss him more often, more firmly, with more passion, maybe even sooner. For longer.

Pressing your lips against his first, almost like always– since Kim Sunwoo was a bit shy with his kisses when you were both just high school seniors– your eyes shut close and everything around you disappears. You guess there’s something about baking that makes the two of you want to feed off each other’s lips– except this time, it’s not practice anymore. It’s not innocent, it’s not clueless. This time, it’s real, alive and passionate. You can’t say you hate the sentiment, the weird parallel your relationship has come to. It’s like you’re reliving your life again, but this time, you know how the story ends– you know how to fix the ending. How to keep him here.

Sunwoo’s more experienced than he was when you kissed him for the first time. He’s less shy and more bold, lips firmer against yours, but still careful and gentle. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw and position you so he has the best access to your mouth as he slips his tongue in, as if chasing down the taste of cookie dough he fed you just a few seconds ago, and although you liked to battle him when you were young, you let him win this time– you let him take you home, bring your mind to where it’s supposed to be.

Hands gripping the front of his shirt, but immediately going to circle around his neck when a particular movement of his makes you moan slightly into his mouth, you play with the hair on his nape and feel him shuddering under your movements, an automatic response that makes fondness spread over your chest. Everything about him is familiar to you– he still reacts the same way to your tender ministrations, he still smiles against your lips when you tangle your fingers through his hair and want to ground yourself in the touch.

You know him like the palm of your hand. It’s easy to get lost in something you are so familiar with, in someone that was once your everything. It’s easy to indulge too much in something that was forcefully taken from you, to get right back where you left with him, because time and circumstances were never on your side.

A touch of his hand on the side of your neck, lips trailing down your mouth towards your jaw. The boldness, the urgency of his movements is enough to have you turn your back against the counter, his body pressed tightly against yours. His palms under the backside of your knees have you sitting up on the cold marble, his lips never breaking away from your skin.

You’re enjoying the shift in the dynamic. You’re enchanted with the way he handles you, like he’s been starved of you for years, wanting to chase down all the time you spent away from each other. Breathing heavily, feeling his plush lips sucking down on the sweet spot under your ear, then trailing down the side until he reaches the juncture of your neck, an involuntary “God…” slips past your mouth.

“I missed you,” he says, words muffling against your skin, “I missed you so much, I felt like I was going crazy.”

The confession makes you dizzy, your whole body growing weak. It’s like he knows exactly what words you wanted to hear. It’s like he knows what haunted you all those years, what you kept asking the universe on sleepless nights over and over, praying for an answer. It’s like he knows exactly how to get you close to him, to have you completely let go of the past.

“I missed your jokes,” he says, planting a kiss on your neck. “I missed your smile,” he presses another one a little more up, “I missed your laugh,” another kiss, now on your jaw. “I missed holding your hand,” a peck planted to the corner of your lips, “and I missed kissing you…” he trails off, pointing his attention back on your mouth, locking the two of you together again, as if kissing you was his new addiction and you were the drug.

Sunwoo’s hot hand creeps up your waist, fingers slipping under the thin fabric of your tank top. The contact makes you shiver in response, your bodies still as responsive to each other as back when you were 19, and when you tug at his bottom lip with your teeth and slip your tongue back into his mouth, you feel the boy tug at the right strap of your top, sliding it down your shoulder. You’re barely registering the bowl of dough to your right, the fact that you’re in the kitchen of Juyeon’s parent’s bakery, or the fact that you only just met the boy two weeks ago for the first time in years. All you focus on is him– his touch, his taste, the way he makes you feel. All you know is longing. The desire.

Before you have the chance to take anything further, the sound of the door opening makes you jump away from each other– your head almost hitting the top cabinets, had Sunwoo not instinctively put his hand there to shield you from the impact. Before you get a chance to register what’s happening, a familiar voice calls for you, their tone a little guilty and bashful.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt, or anything–” Juyeon peeps, clearing his throat.

Glancing at Sunwoo, you see his cheeks redden at being caught by his older friend, yet his eyes still roll in annoyance at the interruption. You can’t help but try to hide your face into his shoulder– it’s not like you’re embarrassed of being with Sunwoo, you’re just embarrassed that it had to happen here, of all places.

“Well, you just did,” Sunwoo grunts, frustration coating his words.

“I’m just here to grab something,” Juyeon hums, almost racing through the room to get to the fridge on the other side of the kitchen, taking out a carton of milk from the inside and showing it to the two of you. “This is gonna go bad soon, so I’m taking it home to use it. Uhm.. anyways, well, don’t let me stop you in anything… bye!”

Neither of you greet the male back, instead sharing a meaningful, knowing look between each other. The view of your first boyfriend with his lips puffy, cheeks flushed and hair a little disheveled makes your senses go crazy, and although you’d like to continue what you started, you don’t think now is the right time or place.

Hopping off the counter, you smile. “So… where were we with the cookies?”

to. my first girlfriend

May 2000

Eyes trained on the ball, feet restless as he runs across the field to retrieve it and pass it to one of the shooters– either Donghyuck or Jinyoung, the more capable ones of the team– Sunwoo finds himself completely focused on the game. It’s one of the last matches of the season, and since he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to play his favorite sport again– he hasn’t received a verdict on the university applications he sent yet– the boy figures he should enjoy each game like it’s the last. Because who knows– one day, it may as well be, and if he’s not prepared for it, if he has any regrets, he knows he’ll take it harder than he’s supposed to.

Kim Sunwoo’s position in football is midfielder. While Eric once told him that it’s a loser position, since he’s not the shooter and he doesn’t score many goals (which is a lie– the boy had him know he scored his fair share despite his defensive position on the field), Sunwoo’s grown to love it. He’s the one that’s supposed to counter all attacks on his teammates. He’s the one that runs after the ball and passes it to the shooters, so technically, he’s the reason why any of them even have the opportunity to score. His position is as important as any other player's, and he takes pride in the compliments he gets from his coach whenever he does particularly well at a game.

Sunwoo loves football. He’d say his first love is football, but something inside of him keeps telling him that that’s a lie (don’t ask him why. It’s a secret.). It’s the first game he’s ever been exceptionally good at, the first thing he could do for periods longer than a few weeks. He’s been playing with the ball since he was young, and although he never had a father to kick the football around with in his backyard, his sister was always happy to be included in anything he was into at the time– when she got older, she even got better at being his designated goalie, although less interested in the play itself. Sunwoo feels like he lets go of all worries when he plays. It’s good to have an escape, something to keep his mind occupied. He doesn’t have many things to worry about, but he finds that kicking the ball around, making strategies in his brain on how to get it to his teammates the fastest, is enough for him to get out both his frustration and get something nice out of it. He enjoys the thrill. He enjoys the excitement, the shared joy of the team whenever someone scores a goal. He is addicted to the ecstasy in his veins whenever his team wins.

It was easy to determine that if Sunwoo wanted to do anything for the rest of his life, it would be football. It’s what he enjoys, what he loves. It’s what he’s good at.

It’s strange to imagine a time when he wouldn’t play football. He doesn’t even want to imagine it in the first place– it makes a chill run down his spine and an unsettling feeling churn in his stomach. In a perfect world, he’s always a football player.

Everyone keeps telling him he could easily make it professional, if he tried.

Football is how he met most of his friends. It’s how he met Juyeon– he was the captain of the high school team when Sunwoo was a sophomore, and he found that hanging out with the older boy was easy and fun. It’s how he met Donghyuck and Jihoon (before the latter dropped out of the team after a few months). It’s how he met you.

His coach always warned the players about dating the cheerleaders. For his coach, it wasn’t right to do so– it would throw off the dynamic of the game. “Nobody wants their ex to stare at them during their game!” the coach had said– not even thinking of the possibility of any of those teenage romances to last. Sunwoo only laughed back then. It wasn’t something he should be afraid of– he never liked anyone on the cheer team.

Until… until he did. Sunwoo met you on one sunny day, at your joint cheer-slash-football practice. You pointed out that the number on his jersey– 03– was your favorite, and the boy felt himself smile. Ever since then, he never wore any other number. He considered it to be his lucky charm. What started as friendship blossomed into something much more for the boy, and somehow, he can’t even remember when the feelings he had for you morphed into adoration. He doesn’t know when they shifted Into absolute enchantment, or Into a silly crush– he doesn’t know when he started seeing you in a light that was more romantic.

Wearing your favorite number on his back, Sunwoo runs towards the opposing player. There’s something akin to an angry face playing with the man’s features, and Sunwoo imagines it’s because of the very clear lead his team has on them. Sunwoo makes sure he doesn’t slip as he tackles the opposing player– he swears he heard someone call the shooter Jaechan– and as soon as he secures the ball, Sunwoo aims to forward it to his teammate.

The screams resonating all around him– although he tries hard to filter them out to focus on the game completely– suggest that it’s only a few moments before the game is over. It wouldn’t matter even if they didn’t score the goal, but something inside of Sunwoo’s heart leaps at the thought of winning with such a lead. The boyish excitement only grows when he watches Donghyuck retrieve the goal and run towards the goalpost, neon-orange sneakers shining through the green grass.

“Come on!” Sunwoo cheers, a hopeful spark lighting within him as the boy prepares to shoot, eyes quickly scanning the field.

And Lee Donghyuck almost never lets him down. Maybe that’s why he liked the boy so much in the first place– Sunwoo didn’t like players that dismissed the chance he won for them. He liked the skillful ones. The ones that knew what they were doing. (He also liked Donghyuck’s humor. He found himself grateful to have a friend so funny. He made even losing feel like it wasn’t such a big deal.)

Choosing the golden shooter proved to be a good idea once again– Donghyuck, number 35, shoots for the goal and the ball gets in. Seconds after, the sound of a whistle is heard across the place, the game over with Sunwoo’s team winning 4:1.

Everyone cheers– yells from the audience are heard, excitement reeking through the air. The whole football team gathers around, sweaty bodies sticking together as they perform some sort of a cliche group hug, arms patting each other’s backs and complimenting each other’s play.

The commotion dissolves shortly after. Sunwoo finds himself trying to catch his breath, eyes looking across the space for someone in particular. His heart leaps even harder when he finds you standing at the edge of the field in your cheer uniform, a big smile plastered on your face. Your eyes are glimmering as they meet with his. Your hair is a little tousled from the routine you just finished doing and there are smears and smudges on your cheeks from the face paint you used to symbolize the team’s colors– blue and gold. Over-all, you look ecstatic.

Sunwoo finds himself running over to you before he even registers that he’s going to do it. He’s like a fast, unguided missile, the goal of getting to you as fast as possible being the only thing resonating through his excited mind.

“Good jo-” you grunt as the boy finally gets to you, words cutting off when he (maybe a little harshly) puts his arms around your middle and picks you up, twirling you around. You screech a little into his ear and he finds himself laughing at your reaction. It’s like a runner's high– he feels like right now, he is capable of everything.

“Okay! Okay! Put me down!” you laugh when you start to get a little dizzy. The boy complies, since he’s running out of strength to carry you anyways, and puts you back to your feet. His arms stay tightly wrapped around your body, though, locking you into a secure hug.

“We won!” he cheers, the brightest grin settling to his lips as he announces the obvious.

You beam at him, eyes soft and crinckled into little moon crescents, a dumbfounded smile playing with your features. “I know, Sherlock,” you dismiss him again with the teasing nickname, shaking your head in disbelief, “I was here. Cheering for you,” you say.

And sure, Sunwoo knows that by you, you don’t necessarily mean him in particular– more like cheering for the whole team, the whole 11 players on the field– but something about the sentiment makes his stomach feel all light and a slight blush spread over his glowing cheeks. You were here– cheering for him (and his team) – and although you’re here out of your own will, out of your own devotion to your hobby, he somehow feels grateful for your presence. You never miss a game. You went even when you caught the flu and felt too sick to do your cheer routine– you just sat on the bench and rooted for your best friend. (The team lost that match. Sunwoo felt a little bad for tugging you out of your bed for it.)

The boy studies your face for a while. You look perfectly content in his hold. You fit perfectly into his arms, he thinks– almost like you’re supposed to be there all the time. He should hug you more often, he decides. Sunwoo foolishly finds himself focusing onto your lips– he blames the shiny lipgloss you put on today– the words coming out of your mouth not quite registering in his brain. “As I was saying, good job! The whole team, but you especially. Don’t tell anyone, but I think you really shined in this game. I’m really prou–”

A single peck is pressed to your glossy, sticky lips, cutting you off in the middle of the sentence yet again. Sunwoo surprises himself with the gesture– he was always too shy to initiate something with you, too hesitant to even touch you sometimes– but the euphoria is still playing with his senses, clouding his brain. He doesn’t think of consequences.

He can’t control himself anymore. It’s been weeks since you two kissed for the first time– exactly 4 and a half weeks since you taught him how to do so– and since that afternoon, he found himself thinking about it every single day, every single minute, all. The. Time. You two haven’t spoken about it since, making the poor boy a little disappointed, but he respected your decision. He knew that you didn’t particularly reciprocate his feelings, but he still expected your dynamic to shift. At least a little bit.

And although he should’ve been glad nothing changed and your friendship didn’t crumble because of a simple kiss, he found himself desiring to kiss you every time he saw your face.

You peer at him with eyes wide open, mouth a little agape. Sunwoo doesn’t really know how to read your reaction– you didn’t look particularly happy, but you also didn’t push him away– and so in the moment of panic, he begins to backtrack, his arms untangling from your sides.

“I- I’m sorry if I overstepped any boundary, or if I–”

You’re not fans of letting each other finish their sentences today, it seems. Before Sunwoo gets a chance to put a bigger distance between the two of you, he watches as you get on your tippy-toes and press a tender kiss on his lips– more firmer than the one he dared to give you, a little bit longer, yet still sweetly short. There’s something soft and gentle in your gaze when you pull away and press another peck onto his face– the tip of his nose this time– and Sunwoo almost physically feels his knees turning into jello, his own celebratory firework show erupting in the pits of his stomach.

“So, as I was saying,” you hum, hugging the boy around his neck, “you did well. You looked good out there,” you peep, the sparks in your eyes making Sunwoo’s skin burn with their contact.

That day, you teach him that to be loved is to have someone sharing your achievements with. To be loved is to be adored, to be loved is to have someone watching you and cheering you on, to have someone to run to with good news.

Kim Sunwoo’s football team won the match, but the boy thinks that perhaps, that day, he won something even greater.

to. my first lover

August 2000

The admission papers arrive at his house the morning he’s supposed to sleep over at your house. Your parents decided to take a trip to your aunt’s place for two days, so you invite the boy into the comfort of your home for the weekend– as far as Sunwoo’s mother is concerned, he’s sleeping over at Juyeon’s. He doesn’t have the boy covering him, but he’s also sure his mother won’t try to check if he’s telling her the truth. He’s not banned from having a girlfriend– he just doesn’t want his mum to get any wrong ideas.

He finds the envelope in the mailbox when he comes home from school, and something in his stomach drops when he sees the american stamp on the top right corner of the white paper. He debates on opening it, but every time he hypes himself up enough to tear the top of the envelope off, a little anxious voice on his inside tells him to wait.

Although reluctant to admit it to himself, Sunwoo is a little scared to see the result of his university application. Before he leaves for your house, he puts the envelope into the front pocket of his backpack and tries to forget about it. It works a bit better when he sees your face, hears your laugh– when he spends time with you and you two play the new board game you got from your cousin. Still, the weight of the envelope keeps bugging him in his mind no matter how hard he tries forgetting about it, and you finally notice (or finally bring it up after hours of ignoring his weird mood) when the two of you lay together in your bed in the evening, both facing the ceiling.

“Is everything alright?” you ask.

“Hm?” Sunwoo hums, lost in thought. “Oh, yeah,” he nods, “don’t worry.”

You don’t seem convinced. Shuffling a little in your sheets, you turn towards him and move your body closer to his, your arm suddenly draping over his middle. A tender kiss is placed on his temple, almost making him crumble under the gentle care, and your voice earns a concerned kind of timbre when you speak to him. “You can tell me,” you hum, “boyfriends and girlfriends are supposed to tell each other things.”

Boyfriends and girlfriends. Sunwoo feels himself soften under the possessive title. It has been close to 4 months of you dating– starting with the winning match in April, progressing slowly through the summer break– but the fact that you’re his partner is still a little unbelievable to him. Sometimes, when he hears you call him your boyfriend, he still gets a little bashful. He still feels like he’s been told the greatest news of his life.

Maybe it’s the nature of this sentiment that has him slowly unraveling to you. And maybe, it’s because he’d tell you anyways– you’d be the first to know. He was just waiting for the right time to bring it up.

“The reply to my university application came in the mail this morning…” he trails off, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

You plop up on your elbow, watching the boy from above. Eyes big, you peer into his face. “And?” you ask, an expecting gaze glazing his features.

“I… I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I was too scared to open it alone.”

“O-Oh,” you nod, furrowing your brows at him, “well, it’s okay to be scared. I believe in you, but even if it doesn’t go the way you wanted it to, I’m still proud of you for trying,” you say, a gentle tone of voice cooing at him, like the nature of the way you play with his hair, wanting to make the boy relax from his anxieties.

“I have the letter here with me,” he says, swallowing, “in my bag.”

“Do you want to open it together?” you ask, watching as the boy nods.

He’s getting off the bed in no time, wearing just sweatpants and a baggy shirt to sleep in, grabbing his bag from the corner of your room and unzipping the small compartment at the front. His fingers take the envelope out, legs walking him over back to your bed, your figure now sitting against the headboard. Sunwoo finds himself mirroring your position as his fingers turn the little white thing in his hold with much stumbling, preparing himself for whatever answer awaits him inside.

Glancing at you, seeing you looking at him with an encouraging expression on your face, Sunwoo takes a big breath in and out to calm his nerves before he tears the top open and takes out the expensive-feeling paper. Not stopping his actions anymore, knowing that if he takes another moment to himself, he won’t be able to read the letter, he unravels the note and lets his eyes skim over the words.

Before he even has a chance to register the sentences written down in the letter, before he can even let his mind accept the result he’s given– ‘we are pleased to announce that you were admitted to the athlete scholarship program…’– he feels a pair of arms wrapping around his shoulders, jolting him awake from his thoughts.

“You made it! Oh my god, you made it!” you cheer, excitement taking over your whole body as you shake the boy in your hold from side to side. The reality still isn’t quite settling in for him, so he just lets you do whatever you please– which includes all of the following: screaming incoherent words into his ear when you hug him closer to your chest, planting a kiss to his cheek and throwing your hands up into the air in a winning gesture.

“You made it, Sunwoo,” you repeat, this time a little more collected.

Sunwoo finally allows himself to put the letter away and look into your eyes. “I made it,” he sighs, a soft smile playing with his features.

“You did!” you nod, grinning back.

It’s strange. The first step towards Sunwoo’s dream is now complete. He got admitted to the university of his dreams– the one that’s good for athletes, the one that is supposed to shoot him towards stardom. He has the opportunity to take classes there and train with some of the best aspiring players in the whole world. He has the opportunity to move out of the country, live at dorms in Boston, and most importantly, he has everyone’s support.

There’s nothing more a boy his age could want more. He has everything. His whole life ahead of him, only the brightest future waiting for him at the end– only if he keeps trying hard and improving. He’s happy. Don’t get him wrong– he really is. Somehow, though, it all feels a bit scary.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited?” you ask, a pout taking over your once excited features. The amount of worries you have over Sunwoo gets bigger and bigger the older the two of you are. There are only so many things that can go wrong when you are a teenager, but now that you’re adulting, the list keeps getting longer.

“I am,” he nods, forcing a smile onto his lips.

“You don’t seem excited,” you argue.

“I am! I really am,” he says, trying to battle with himself.

“What is it?”

“What is what?”

“Come on, Sunwoo,” you sigh, “I can tell when something’s wrong. You don’t have to hide it from me, because I’ll know anyway. What is it?” you insist, staring the boy down with an examining look.

The boy sighs, shrugging to himself. “Well,” he starts, “the school is in America.”

“And?” you start, furrowing your eyebrows. “We knew that when you applied. Why is it such a problem now?” you ask, genuinely not grasping the whole situation.

Sunwoo chews on his cheek for a little while, plays with his fingers in his lap. A part of him is telling him that he both looks and seems foolish– because you’re right. It was his dream, he is excited, and this is good news. But still, there’s something he didn’t really think of when applying. Well, he did. He just thinks that the fact that him being accepted wasn’t really a realistic idea, no matter how hard he wished and prayed for it, so he didn’t have the need to think about it so seriously back then. Now it’s here, all real, and it’s a struggle he didn’t really grasp that he was going to have to go through.

“Well,” he starts again, still avoiding your eyes, “that means I have to move. And we won’t see each other for a while.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence following his confession– one in which he contemplates all possible reactions you might give him, some with truly catastrophic endings– but after what seems like eternities, he hears your soft, gentle voice. “Is that what’s making you so worried?” you ask.

“Kind of,” he nods, feeling his cheeks redden. You handle him with so much care– sometimes, he doesn’t know how to react.

“Awh,” you coo, taking his hand into yours, preventing him from picking at the skin of his cuticles until they bleed– an action he always does and you keep scolding him for. “Sunwoo, we knew about this when you applied. I am okay with you going away. Sure, it will suck, but it’s only for a little time, and I can come visit you there and you’ll show me around and stuff…”

Sunwoo presses a tight-lipped, hesitant smile to his lips. He feels reassured.

“And we’ll call, and it’s going to be fine, because this is good. This is good news, Sunwoo, and you’re gonna do great, and you’re gonna be a star, and I’ll be so, so proud of you,” you hum, voice tender and caring, doing your best at consoling the boy.

“I’m already so proud of you now, y’know?” you hum, squeezing his hand. “Everything will be alright, so don’t you worry.”

Sunwoo’s arms reach out to envelop you into a hug. He once again recognises how easily you fit into his arms, how perfectly you shape into his skin, and when he burrows his nose into your neck, breathing in your scent, he feels your lips reach into his hair, planting a soft kiss into it. Your words did more to the boy than only consult him– they gave him hope, they gave him joy, they made him feel like perhaps, this is not such a terrifying occurrence. And it really isn’t– it’s quite possibly the best thing that he’s ever achieved, and the circumstances of him leaving don’t seem as horrifying to him now.

As long as he knows that you have his back, he thinks he can do anything. And what’s 3 years abroad against the 4 years he’s known you?

When you pull away, you press your lips against his, the contact making his muscles finally relax and his mind let go of all the worries. There’s suddenly nothing in the world that could make him falter, nothing that could make him worry or stress or fret or change his mind, because he has your support, and you’re here with him, promising him that you’ll always be right by his side, wherever he is.

Your mouth molds against his, the familiar motion of your lips against his still surprising him sometimes, still making him curious even after those months. He’s been dating you for some while, but he still likes to explore what makes you crumble under him, what makes you hum into the kiss, what makes you tug him closer to you– it’s a fun game to him, trying to figure you out completely.

He still has some time, but it’s like he is trying to engrave those moments into his memory before he no longer can experience them first-hand as easily.

He goes out to explore again– his tongue gently inviting itself into your mouth with a swipe of your lower lip, relishing in the way your composure falters a little bit, letting him be in charge. You were always the more experienced one out of you two, so Sunwoo often shied away from being the one dominating intimate situations– afraid he’s not good enough, too inexperienced, too immature for you– but in the rare moments he does take the lead, your reactions give him a new source of confidence.

His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, nose pressing against your cheek as he angles you so he has more access to your lips. Something about his ministrations makes you forget to breathe, breaking away from him in a search for much needed oxygen, but Sunwoo acts like he’s been starved of you, latching his lips to the trail from your mouth towards your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses to your soft skin. He faintly remembers the time you gave him a lovebite that one time you came over to his house to work on homework together, sucking and biting at his neck (and although he enjoyed seeing the possessive bruise on his skin whenever he saw himself in the mirror, he wore the strings of his hoodies tightly tied to his neck, shielding him from being teased by everyone– but mostly Eric). He tries to mirror your motions, recreating the action to the best of his abilities.

He hears you grunt, making him fear that he’s doing it wrong– a momentarily panic settling in his chest screaming at him that he hurt you– but the worries are quickly dismissed as you move impossibly closer to the boy, straddling his lap and threading your fingers through his hair, keeping him close.

Humming under his touch, Sunwoo gets a kick from hearing the sounds coming out of your mouth. It’s like a reward– it’s like the praise he goes after his whole life, like validation of his actions being satisfactory for you. The pressure of your body against his lap makes him feel hot all over, sweaty hands holding you by your sides. Every slightest shift of your figure against his makes him shudder, composure faltering when you move in a way that has his breathing particularly quicken, a bundle of nerves forming in his stomach from the newly found hypersensitivity. There’s only so much fabric shielding the two of you from each other, and just the thought of it is slowly driving the boy crazy.

Pulling away from your neck, admiring the artwork he managed to portray on your skin, he feels you pulling him up to meet your lips again, heated, firm kisses shared in the silence of the room. He feels your hands resting on his abdomen, feeling him up for a moment before you sneak them under the hem of his shirt, dragging your nails against his skin.

Sunwoo hears a sound escape his throat at the contact, making him instantly feel foolish– until he feels you smile against his lips, following your ministrations by mirroring his previous actions and kissing down his neck, finding all the spots that make him the most reactive– like the place under his ear, the juncture of his shoulder. You revisit all the places you’ve tested before and perfected your aim to make him efficiently crumble under you. Sunwoo finds himself losing the initial control he had over the situation, instead letting you take over and lead him, much like you’ve done in most areas of his life. He likes to be your follower. He likes to see where you want him, where you need him, he likes to comply. It’s more comfortable for him this way. It makes him swell with pride when he makes you happy.

Another shift of your hips against him has Sunwoo digging his fingers to your side, whole body feeling like it’s electrified under your touch. Placing a soft peck to the spot you’ve had your attention on, you mumble into his skin. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo swallows, noticing you leaning your forehead against his tenderly, eyes meeting.

“Are you sure?”

He nods. He’s never been more sure about anything in his life– he enjoys your company, he loves your touch, the way you make his every sense heighten, his heart beat quicker. Still, he feels a bit nervous at the prospected events. “I just– I’ve never done this before,” Sunwoo whispers the obvious, watching as you carefully observe him.

“Sweetheart,” you tenderly call, placing a soft peck to his lips. “That’s okay. Me neither, but we could… we could try and see where this leads us, if you’d like?”

The sweet pet name alone makes the boy let go of all his worries, of the stress and nerves he’s been holding on to for the past few weeks. You hold him like he’s going to break, and Sunwoo’s never felt so loved before. You reassure him that it’s going to be okay. You are there to remind him that life isn’t so hard, as long as you’re by his side.

“Okay,” he nods, smiling at you.

“Okay,” you repeat, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him again– it may as well be for the thousandth time. Truth is, while he tried to keep up at first, Sunwoo lost count a long time ago.

Everything there is to know about love, Kim Sunwoo learned from you. You showed him the childlike playfulness during your dates. You taught him how to kiss, only to take advantage of his newly found skills and keep them all for yourself. You showed him what it is to share joys, dreams, but also worries together. You were his first crush, date, relationship– and now, his first lover.

In the comfort of your childhood bedroom, holding you closer than ever, Sunwoo dreams of eternity with you. He doesn’t realize what a foolish thought it might be. Somehow, he’s got a feeling that no matter what it is, you two will figure it out. You always do.

to. my first love

September 2000

Muscles sore and whole body heaving in pain, Sunwoo trails inside the small bungalow the university gave him as student accommodation, dropping his duffel bag to the floor. His face is pulled into a small frown as he enters the house and his roommate can’t help but notice. “Everything alright?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Sunwoo hums, nodding at the question. He has 3 assigned roommates– all male, all around his age. Sunwoo’s english isn’t bad, but it also isn’t that great either. He knew that this was going to be one of the main concerns of him moving out abroad, but he figured that the more you encounter the language, the more comfortable you get with it. Due to this, though, the two American boys he rooms with– their names are Josh and Sam– aren’t as close with him. Sunwoo doesn’t really blame them. It’s not like he tried to get close with them anyway. He talks much more with Mark, the one year older boy that’s also Korean, but has been living in the States for years now. The language barrier is nearly nonexistent there, and so he feels much more comfortable.

Not comfortable enough to vent to him about his problems, though. It’s good to share a laugh with Mark when they eat breakfast together in the kitchen, but he won’t go on and talk his ear off about his homesickness, for example. Sunwoo wouldn’t talk to him about the weird, unsettling feeling in his gut whenever he takes the bus or walks down the street, not recognising every face he encounters like he did back home, in his small town. He won’t tell Mark Lee about how much he misses Korea– he’s sure the boy has his own things to worry about. Besides, it’s not like Mark talks about personal stuff with him either. After four days of living here, he can’t say their relationship got to the level of going deep with their personal lives.

And so, Sunwoo walks up the stairs in silence, not giving Mark more information about his mood. Each step up hurts, since the training is twice as demanding as it used to be at home, making his muscles sore and his back hurt terribly from the stone hard mattress in the bed of his new home. He is willing to endure it, but he also has the terrific need to complain about it to anyone that would be willing to listen.

He should start writing a diary, he thinks as he stares up on the ceiling, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It sounds good enough to channel his feelings out into while also not being a bother to anyone else. Besides, he doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s having a hard time here in Boston. This was all his decision, his dream, and sometimes, things are going to get difficult. And that’s okay. Sunwoo just… feels like he lacks the support system he once had back home in Korea. Like someone took it from between his fingertips, forcefully kept it away from him, locked somewhere miles away. Maybe the person who did that to him was himself all along…

Which is why he doesn’t deserve to whine about the fact that he feels terribly lonely. He did this to himself. All him.

If he had a diary, he’d write about the terrible mattress first, he thinks. Then, the weird weather around here– it’s always hot, but not humid. It doesn’t rain as much. He kind of misses the rain.

If he had a diary, he’d write about how he misses his old coach. The high school coach that always made sure the game was fun, yet productive. He misses his teammates as well. Their team never did big things, but he felt like they were some sort of a family. They knew each other well on the field. They had chemistry. They had fun.

He’d write about how he misses his annoying little sister. How he wishes she would appear in the doorway of his room and talked to him about the stickers she still collects, or dragged him to make another friendship bracelet together. How he feels bad for leaving her all alone back home, even though he was never the one to share his brotherly love for her so outwardly growing up. He feels a sort of appreciation for her that he didn’t quite understand when they were little. They are right when they say your sibling is your first best friend after all.

He’d write about the second best friend he’s ever made, Eric. He’d write about how he longs for his presence, his encouraging words. His funny remarks, the pranks he’d pull on him. How he always appreciated him being just across the street, how he enjoyed growing up with him by his side.

He’d write about how much he misses you– perhaps the most out of everyone. There aren’t many words he could use to describe how much he wishes for your presence, and so he thinks the pages filled with sentences directed to you would be rather sparse, and it makes him kind of sad to think about. In his mind, you deserve novels written about you. You deserve love letters and poems and essays filled with every little detail of your existence. Maybe if Sunwoo loved you less, he would be able to talk about it more.

When his eyes go out of focus staring at the ceiling, Sunwoo decides to call you. It’s been 4 days since he arrived and he hasn’t spoken to you since you waved him off to the airport. His mother drove him and you couldn’t go to send him off at the gate, but Sunwoo almost thinks he prefers the fact that you only said goodbye to him in front of his house. It would be that much harder if he saw your face the last thing before boarding the plane.

For the last four days, he’s been slowly settling in, taking in the new country and the new environment. He’d say he was just too busy to call, but that would be a lie.

He was just scared to hear your voice. Terribly.

What if you changed your mind? What if you no longer want to stay with him? What if it’s too hard to handle? And Sunwoo knows it’s hard– hell, it’s the most difficult thing he’s ever done– but all he wishes is for you to keep handling it well. To keep his heart in your hands gently, like you always have, sending him your energy.

He figures that if there’s one thing that can help his growing homesickness, it is to hear your voice.

Sitting up from his bed and walking over to the bag he carried with him through the airport and kept with him on the plane, he scrambles through the item to find the piece of paper you forced into his hand on the driveway of his house.

“We changed our landline yesterday, so call me on this number when you get there,” you said, pressing a kiss towards his cheek before you let him get into his mother’s car. Sunwoo promised to call back then– he hopes you don’t mind the delay. Maybe he could blame the timezones…

Hand thrusting into the front pocket of the bag, Sunwoo feels around and tries to fish out the little piece of paper. He’s 100% certain he put it there after he got into the car with his mum, making sure it’s safe and sound. He would hate to lose it– it was some sort of safety net for him. Something to fall back to, something to keep him above the water.

Panic settles in his chest when he doesn’t feel the soft piece of paper anywhere. The boy unzips all other compartments of the bag, turning it around, shaking out everything that’s inside. The phone number to your new landline has to be there somewhere in there. It needs to be.

When he doesn’t find it in his bag, he opens his closet. He throws everything out to the ground– his clothing, his shoes, the notebooks he bought for university– all in the search of the stupid, little, yet so important piece of paper. He searches through all his other bags. All pockets of his jeans, every centimeter of his folded clothing. All drawers of his desk, the whole floor, hell, he even crouches to check under his bed, blowing the dust bunnies out of reach, desperately hoping he could wish the paper into existence. He searches his bed. All possible parts where the landline number could be– some more unreasonable than others. Sunwoo feels like he is losing his mind.

The paper is nowhere in his room. It’s like it vanished. Was it really there at all? Did he dream that moment up?

Running down the stairs towards the landline, he takes the phone off the wall and punches in the numbers to your old landline, the pattern so familiar in his fingertips he couldn’t tell you the number if you asked, but he could recreate it with punching in the buttons in on any other phone in the world. He clenches his fist together, breathing more heavily as he listens in, praying for the universe to stop playing tricks on him and make you magically answer on the other side.

When the phone makes a dismissive sound, signaling that the number he called no longer exists, Sunwoo shuts the phone against the wall and takes it again, putting in your old number once more, like a summoning ritual. Maybe he put the numbers in wrong the first time… Maybe he made a mistake somewhere along the way…

When he gets the same response, he tries again. And again. And again.

He can’t believe it. Tension settles into his shoulders, making him twirl the cord of the landline in between his fingers as a way to calm himself down, listening in to the dull noise on the other side telling him there’s nothing that can be done, nothing more that he can do. He doesn’t have the number, and somehow, although it sounds foolish, it feels like he lost you alongside it too.

“Everything alright, man? You look–” Mark enters the room, peering at the boy with curious, worried eyes. It’s only now that Sunwoo realizes he is breathing heavily, fingers clammy on the cord, heart begging to run out of his chest to get all across the ocean to you. It’s only now that he realizes his cheeks are wet with tears, the solidification of his inner turmoil taking a physical form and appearing on his face, making him feel pathetic in front of the older boy.

Sunwoo once again puts the phone back to its original place, but this time, he doesn’t take it back and tries the useless old phone number again. Simply turning away from his roommate, he accepts his fate as he quickly puts on his shoes and slams the door shut after him, going out for a run.

Is this his punishment for waiting too long? Did the paper vanish out of his possession because he was deemed unworthy of hearing your voice? Should he have tried to look for the number earlier? Would this have prevented it?

It’s hard to run when your nose is stuffed and your breathing hitches with silenced sobs, he learns. Sunwoo doesn’t get as far as he would have liked, crumbling on a bench somewhere next to a playground, picking at the dry skin of his lips until they bleed and the irony taste on his tongue snaps him back into reality.

What was once his dream is starting to feel more like a nightmare. When he calls Eric two days after to ask him to get him your new landline number, he gets the news that you abruptly moved out to New York.

September 2007

“If you really think about it, Y/N,” Sunwoo hums, making you shift your attention towards his serious-looking face, “we never really broke up in the first place.”

The boy is holding a bottle of cider in his hand, one of the four you got on your way to your tonight’s destination. Sunwoo rang the bell to your house a few minutes before 10 PM, and although you weren’t expecting to see him that day and you weren’t even looking as presentable as you’d like, you agreed to take a walk with him. Somehow, the two of you found yourselves climbing over the fence of your old high school, sneaking into the football field, figures settling on one of the benches of the tribune.

“Oh yeah,” you hum, lightness evident in your tone, “you just never called. What’s up with that, by the way?” you ask, snickering when you watch the male avert his gaze in a bashful manner, as if he was embarrassed to tell you his reasoning.

You take a sip of the apple cider, enjoying the sweet, fruity taste on your tongue, watching as the male contemplates his next response for a bit, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I lost your new landline number,” he peeps, voice barely louder than a whisper.

His answer doesn’t register immediately in your brain. The words take a moment to string themselves together into a sentence, taking another few seconds before you understand the meaning of his confession. A soft laugh drags out of your throat, disbelief coating your very essence. “What?”

“Yeah,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck before looking back at you, eyes full of guilt and shame, “I… I lost the number you gave me, and when I called Eric to try to make him get me your new number, he told me you moved to New York, and I guess… I guess I took it as a sign…?” he says, shrugging.

“A sign of what?” you ask, genuinely surprised to hear his answer.

All this time, you thought he didn’t call because he didn’t want to. You thought he didn’t call because he was too busy, too tired to deal with anything else other than his career at the moment. He was trying his hardest and training every day, so you understood that he wouldn’t have time for you every day. When he didn’t call for so long, even after you moved to the States as well– you hoped he’d somehow try searching for your number even then, because in your mind, everything was possible– one day, you just… stopped waiting for him to call. You stopped hoping you would hear his voice on the other side of the line.

And you accepted it. He realized long distance relationships were too difficult to maintain, especially in that time and age, and he had too many of his own worries to take care of before focusing his attention somewhere else. You didn’t resent him, no. You longed for him, you missed him, but you never once hated him for the decision he made. You wished him well, all this time.

“A sign that… that maybe we weren’t meant to be,” he hums, shrugging. “It sounds stupid, really, but…” he trails off, cutting himself off in the middle of the sentence.

Something about his confession makes you feel a bit lighter. Your shoulders feel like there’s no longer anything weighing them down. It’s not like you waited for an explanation all those years and when you finally got one, something in you shifted into a more comfortable position.

“For me, back then, you were the right person, wrong time. And I didn’t want to let you go, I really didn’t, it’s just… everything was already so hard and the world seemed to put so many obstacles in my way of contacting you, that I thought it was the universe telling me to drop it and let you go. So you could… so you could find someone else, I guess…” he finishes explaining. He averts his gaze from you, pointing it towards the empty field, as if scared to see your reaction to his blabbering. He takes another few sips of his cider, snickering. “It wasn’t fair of me to want you to wait for me either.”

So you could find someone else… You think back to all the times you went on dates after you concluded that your relationship with Sunwoo was over. You try to remember their faces, their mannerisms in such detail that you could only make up one of your previous lovers– the one sitting next to you right now– and you chuckle at your foolishness. Remembering how you kept comparing every new person in your life to the one that stole your heart first, remembering how you thought about him late at night, wondering where he is right now and how he’s doing. You used to look through the sports parts of newspapers, looking for his name somewhere, looking for his team name, but never seeing a glance of how he was doing. You wore the stupid friendship bracelet he gave you in your junior year around in New York, having people point it out and ask about it, all until it broke off by itself one day and you reluctantly said goodbye to the sentiment.

You dated around after losing contact with Sunwoo. You don’t really think you found someone else, though.

“I wanted to wait for you, though,” you say, shuffling closer to the male on the bench, voice sincere. “It was my decision.”

“Well,” he chuckles, “life had other plans for us two.”

His sentence makes you think. A few days ago, it would make you sad. Embarrassed, even. Life had other plans for you two and they didn’t align with what you two have calculated during the summer break after your senior year. Sunwoo didn’t become a star. His football career never took off. He finished his degree and came back home, bitter and heartbroken.

Your plans ended just as fast as you came up with them. Not going to university after high school, you were left with nothing to do. When the opportunity to take an internship for a news company in New York came to you so suddenly, you took it without thinking, trying to find your place in the big world ahead of you. You had no plan, but you think that maybe, some part of you wanted to get away from your hometown all along. You wanted to do big things, make everyone proud. Being a news anchor wasn’t even something you dreamed of when you were little, so you guess you weren't supposed to really feel that let down, but the defeat still stings.

Or, at least, it used to. You find that the failure doesn’t hurt as much anymore.

Looking at the male next to you, you think you know the reason why. “It’s okay,” you say, shrugging, “we figured it out anyways, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo sighs, looking at you with a soft smile playing with his lips. “I guess we did.”

The sound of cicadas hits your ears when you two fall into a comfortable silence. Healing old wounds was surely one of the items on your check list when you came back home, but you didn’t expect to get over things so quickly. You don’t think you would have been able to get over everything alone, though– and this makes you twice as grateful to still have Sunwoo by your side. A sense of nostalgia takes over you at the fact, but this time, it hits you with more fondness than longing for the old times.

“Remember how young we were? It’s like I still see you chasing the ball around the field when I focus hard enough,” you say, pointing ahead of you.

Sunwoo laughs, shaking his head at your antics. “Yeah. I almost see you leading the cheer practice in the back there,” he points, “in your cute cheer uniform, with the ridiculous pom poms in your hands–”

“Hey, don’t call them ridiculous,” you gasp, “they were my favorite part of the whole routine!”

“Oh, I could tell,” he laughs, poking fun at you.

“Well, you must have liked the pom poms enough to stare at me during practice all the time,” you shrug, teasing the male back. The fact that Sunwoo had a crush on you long before you reciprocated the feelings wasn’t something you two explicitly talked about before, but you always deemed as clear as day. Or, at least, it was to everyone back then.

“I did not–” he gasps, making you gently shove him with your elbow.

“Come on, everybody used to say you had a crush on me back then,” you hum, “you were pretty obvious with it too.”

“You knew?” he looks at you, eyes big and surprised. Gears clearly running in his head, he tries to piece the information together, running through the memories now so distant, but still so clear.

“Girls always know,” you point out, shrugging. You take another sip of your cider, licking your lips after and speaking up again, tone of voice almost confidential. “I just acted like I didn’t. But then I realized I liked you back, so I was trying everything in my power to make you confess to me first. Which… took you long enough, young man,” you giggle, seeing the male shake his head at you in disapproval.

“You could’ve confessed first, if you were so confident,” he mutters, obviously a little gutted by the revelation.

“That would be below my level,” you nod, pressing your lips together into a straight line, “besides, it was fun watching you act all cute and clueless.”

“Don’t call me cute and clueless–”

“That’s what you were, though! Like the time when you got super drunk on your birthday and begged me not to leave–”

“I didn’t even like you back then!”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“I was in denial,” he furrows his brows theatrically, putting the empty glass bottle to the grass, “but I see that you had a lot of fun watching me suffer.”

“Fine, pretty boy,” you say, catching a glimpse of the boy momentarily shying away, presumably at the endearing nickname, his cheeks tinting pink even in the faint moonlight. “Would it make you feel better if I confessed first this time?”

“Huh?” the boy asks, lips parted, eyes a big, honest pool of honey.

Cute and clueless, you think.

The story comes full circle when you realize that this football field is perhaps what started it all. This is where you ran up to the new addition to the team, saying that your favorite number was on the back of his jersey. As the leader of the cheerleading team, you took it as your job to make every newbie feel welcomed– no matter if they were a fellow cheerleader or a football player. You didn’t expect for the boy to never stop wearing the number– although it was your favorite, it didn’t seem to be so important back then. (One day, you learned that Sunwoo kept the number on his jersey even after moving abroad. You read it in one of the sports magazines you foolishly flipped through in every kiosk you encountered and almost teared up in the busy store after.)

This field is where you watched him play football every week. It’s where you both practiced, sending each other funny faces after the coach was mean to either of you for not being focused on your training.

This is where Sunwoo found his passion– where he found his dream. This is the place that shifted the next couple of years of your life towards all sorts of directions. This is where he kissed you after winning a match, a gleeful confession slipping past his lips. This is where your relationship started, and metaphorically, also ended. The field that kept you apart is now a thousand miles away, but the one that brought you together is now right in front of you.

You guess it’s only right to use it for new beginnings.

“I think… I think I’m still in love with you, Sunwoo,” you start slowly, playing with your fingers in your lap, “well, I don’t know if my feelings for you ever ended… they could’ve, I mean, we were apart for so long… I just… all I know is that I don’t want us to be apart anymore, and I–”

Your words die on your tongue when the boy cuts you off with a kiss, the taste of apple cider mixing on your lips. The way he kisses you didn’t really change even after so many years, still swaying you with the familiarity of his loving. Still, even though you know the way he angles your jaw, the way he presses against you, the way he takes his sweet time, truly showing you how much he enjoys the act, you never grow tired of it. Something in you reacts the same way as when you were young. There’s still excitement, there’s still tender softness in your heart every time you kiss him.

His lips break apart from yours, a playful tint in his words when he speaks to you again. “Don’t try to take credit for it now,” he says, “because the last time I checked, we never really broke up in the first place, so you could say we were dating all along, all because I confessed back in–”

“God, you’re unbelievable,” you grunt.

“But you love me,” the boy says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is.

“Always have,” you say, pressing a quick peck to his plush lips, “always will.”

The starlight glazes your cheekbones when you rest your forehead against his, as if to send him a telepathic message that is worth more than a thousand words. It’s hard to find the words to explain the mixture of your emotions right now, but when your memory washes up the encouraging monologue Sunwoo offered to you when you first arrived, you finally agree with his sentiment. Perhaps, one word could summarize it all– you feel truly content.

They say you never forget about your first love. At 25 and still counting, you guess you could say that’s true.

#deoboyznet #sunwoo #the boyz #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo angst #the boyz angst #the boyz fluff #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenario #the boyz imagine #sunwoo scenario #sunwoo imagine

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eveningepiphany · 11 months ago

Text

something about the legs | h.s oneshot

summary: something about your best friends legs really does it for you, especially in skinny jeans…

warnings: besties with unexpected and very impulsive benefits, oral sex (mrec), lots and lots of talk about those mfing legs and thighs, dirty talk, h not expecting you to be like that until you are.

a/n: so it’s been a hot minute… hi again🤪 but something rlly just sent me spiralling with this pic of h’s fucking legs. look at them. anyways, enjoy me being a slut and channeling it into some fine literature, enjoy xoxo

———

Ovulation week is a curse. An absolute, utter curse.

Between the multitude of random fluctuating symptoms and skyrocketing hormones, you feel dreaded enough as it is. But the worst part, is every fucking month you become absolutely manic with need.

Some are increasingly better or worse than others, but this month is something off the charts.

There is no warrant for you to be this fucking horny at 9:32pm on a Thursday night. Yet here you are, squirming because you’re around someone that already riles you up enough as it is.

Harry is your best friend. Has been for years. Since the awkward starting phases of middle school. All braces paired with horrendous fashion choices. And into the ages of highschool throughout all the drama and predictable thematics. Into the present, where life throws you curveballs as you enter the world as young adults, and now that he’s in one direction. You can’t imagine going through all that with anyone else.

Actually, maybe it’s fit to mention you’re almost certain that this man never went through an awkward phase… despite the fact possibly everyone else on the planet did. Harry did not.

He was cute from the day he was born, it’s evident in the pictures, up until he hit puberty, then he became some ungodly mix of both cute and ridiculously hot.

It’s disgusting that someone can do both things at the same time. And also revolting that they can have no idea at all.

But tonight, he is all hot. Between the way he’s dressed, the way he’s walking, and the way he’s talking. It’s close to killing you where you’re sat.

Thighs clenched together like there’s a thousand dollar check between them, you sit on a outdoor couch at your family’s holiday house.

It’s just the two of you outside on the large decked patio. It’s a huge house by the lake that your parents and grandparents own, so you invited Harry to come stay for the week. Your family were thrilled you invited him, but have already turned in for an early night. Since they planned to be out on the lake for a day of water activities almost before the damn sun was even fully up.

Harry has a glass of alcohol in his hands— one that is completely dwarfed in his hold. It’s condensation forming small droplets over the ridges of his fingers.

He hasn’t realised the staring you’ve been doing, as he paces the deck talking about something to do with a recent song he’s been writing.

You’re sliding in small hums of agreement at the appropriate times without even hearing what he’s saying. Only the pleasing lilt in his voice that tickles your ears as it enters them.

He’s got those black skinny jeans on, the pair that cling to his hips for dear life. And not only are they fit to his hips, but they hug every single curve on his legs. The thick of his thighs all the way down to the muscle of his calf.

And if anything was the killer for you tonight, it was those.

You’re surprised you’re not drooling on yourself. Which is fucking disgusting, but fact. As there is an over-production of saliva in your mouth right now just looking at his legs.

He is so muscly there. The presumed strength of his thighs makes you actually pant, and you never thought legs did it for you like this. But my god right now, they certainly are.

“But I jus’ dunno Y/N,” he turns to you, causing you to snap your gaze from the curve of his ass which you were shamelessly just staring at, back to his face.

It doesn’t get better for you anywhere you look. The man was built and sculpted by a god. Every feature was painstaking to look at, and not be able to touch.

“What d’ya reckon would sound better?” He asks, nonchalantly, unaware you were just eyeing him up.

You feel some shame now, as you scramble to find an answer for the question you don’t even know the context for.

“Well, i think whatever you feel flows better. Yknow?” You swallow, praying to god it’s diluted enough of an answer that he’ll just take it without question.

He nods, and relief floods through you, “i s’pose you’re right.”

However that relief hardly lasts long, because he’s not as clueless as you’d presumed, “You’re pretty good at giving advice even when you’re only half listening.”

He saunters over from the span of deck he’d been pacing the last 10 minutes, sitting down next to you with a smug look on his face. You feel the cushions dip with his body weight, and you’re so delusioned that even a part of you twinges with desire at the understanding of his weight. The idea of him pressing it down on top of you during—

“What’s on ya mind, love, why are you s’faraway lookin’?” He asks, sipping at his drink with a quirk of his dark eyebrows.

“I—“ Christ. He’s manspreading a bit right now… thighs pushed apart, “I’m just tired. Been a big few days.”

His curly, and boyishly-messy hair is cascading over his forehead and casting a shadow of his green gaze, the same one that’s nailing you where you’re sat right now.

He doesn’t look very convinced. And he’s watching your eyes flicker around, looking guilty of a lie, presumably the words that just came from your mouth.

“You don’t have t’lie, dove.” He laughs, a soft songbird-like chuckle that somewhat eases your tenseness.

You feel so dirty for thinking about him like this. When he can’t tell you it’s okay to be imagining absolutely sinful things you’d do… or let be done when it comes to him. However, you are so hormonal right now, that you don’t have it in yourself to stop.

He was just simply the wrong person, in the wrong place, at coincidentally the right time in your hormonal cycle.

And you feel even worse because there’s years of history behind the two of you. And friends are not meant to think of each other like this, it makes things quickly complicated. And this is not a hallmark film.

“I know.” You sigh out, “it’s not you, H. I’m just… hormonal.”

His first thought was that you were on your period, a look of tender concern flitting across his face.

“Oh, is your period making you feel sick?”

You could laugh at the irony. You are infact neither of the things he thinks. Not bleeding, and not ill.

He has looked after you before when you’ve been in the trenches with your period. He is always so willing to get you anything when you’re not feeling well.

And you can tell by the look on his pretty face he’s about to ask you he can get you anything to help— pain relief, water, snacks or simply a hug.

A gentleman, as always.

But if he asks you if you need anything, you only have one answer and that’s him. You need him, and not in a platonic way. So you interject before he can ask,

“No, quiet the opposite.” You shake your head, pursing your lips.

“But it’s fine,” you amend curtly, “just girl stuff.”

The two of you get consumed by a momentary silence, he was waiting for more information, which you simply were not giving. After a few seconds, he sputters out a sudden laugh.

“You can tell me, if you want, idiot.” He laughs, nudging you with his knee. His very attractive leg being left pressed into yours. “Gross details and personal stuff never usually stop us.”

Your whole body is burning up, overwhelmed. He is so fucking hot, and caring. You want him filling up your goddamn throat.

“No, trust me. This is all left best untold and ignored. I can’t help it, so we’re just ignoring it.” Your tone is certain, and to this he nods. Able to tell that’s as much of an answer he’d be getting for now, so he begrudgingly accepts it.

“Fine, fine, you’re just so stiff. Need t’relax.” He slides his free hand behind your back to pull him into his side.

Tugging you the small distance between you two, your head comes naturally to rest in the crook of his neck. Nose inhaling the woodsy scent of his cologne, smelling like the refreshingly cool breeze on a muggy summer night.

His thumb strokes a delicate back and forth rhythm on the bare skin it’s found between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your fitted top.

It’s killing you, because he’s so gentle with you. Such a sweetheart really, but you’re breaking out a sweat at the feeling of his fingertips against your skin. You need a cold shower.

You try not to let your eyes wander down to the legs in those fucking jeans.

“S’long as ya alright,” he murmurs into your hair, “is there anything you need from me? ‘Cause if I can do anything for ya, yknow I would.”

Your stomach drops, how are you even supposed to answer that. Your face heats with even more guilt.

Your internal voice drops in her two cents on the question— your cock, she confidently stated. That was what she wanted.

“No, nothing you can do that’s reasonable, H.” You say, too dangerously close to him dragging the truth out of your needy mouth for your liking.

He tilts his head down to look at the profile of your face, curiously prodding further, “How unreasonable are we talking?”

“Ridiculously and foolishly unreasonable.”

“Why?”

“Sh. Don’t make me tell you, because I don’t want to.” You state defiantly, rolling away from his hold, since now you’re talking about it— although vaguely— it’s just making it worse.

Focusing on it is making the need more intense, your eyes feasting unintentionally on his muscled body relaxing on the couch.

He’s got this smirk on his lips. One you want to kiss off.

“You’re blushing, is it that bad?”

You scoff, “Yes, that bad.”

“Okay… so, it’s not your period, and it’s technically fixable— since you just said it’s unreasonable for me to do it… not impossible.” he’s wondering out loud, watching your every move.

Which now you’ve stood up and started pacing, trying to distract yourself from the pulsing between your legs and the begging voice in your head that wants to touch him so badly.

“Stop being nosey! God!” You frustratedly whine out, and he laughs at your sudden anger at not only him, but at seemingly just being a woman.

“Just trying to help, baby, don’t get mad.” He teases, and between his suddenly mocking mouth, your resolve snaps like a fickle twig.

“Fuck, I’m horny. Harry!” You groan out, covering your eyes over with the palms of your hands so you don’t have to see his likely disgusted face at your confession.

But now that you’ve started you can’t stop, “You just… your fucking legs and thighs are just… I don’t know! I’m ovulating and you’re just really sexy, it’s frustrating and I really want to die right now, H.”

In reality, his brows had just shot up with surprise, lips parting in shock. He could not believe you just admitted that.

He glanced down to his legs. He’s just in jeans, it wasn’t like he felt as though they were anything to write home about.

It shocked him that you even… well obviously the two of you are best friends. But it was rare that topics of sex came up, so all the sudden the conversation being about that and also about you is making his head spin.

Yet something comes over him, he doesn’t think as he speaks his next words, “Tha’s not as unreasonable as you made it out to be.”

You snap your hands down from your face, eyes locking onto his— he doesn’t look repulsed or uncomfortable as you had originally expected. He looks inexplicably open to the topic.

“I’ve got somethin’ you need, somethin’ that can fix it, love.” He states, shrugging his shoulders, his voice going almost sultry, “An’ yknow what I said, hm?”

At your silence— because you’re too stunned to even speak— he finishes the sentence for you, “Said I’d do anything for ya.”

Oh, is this quickly snowballing.

“Harry!” You shake your head, it feeling so wrong to be talking about this with him.

He abandons his drink on the small side table beside the couch, standing up and breaching the distance between you.

“Jus’ say the words, and then im yours.” He lowly whispers, and this is about to make you pass out. You’re clenching around nothing in your underwear, and the proposition is so tempting.

“We shouldn’t though. It’s not your responsibility to… satiate me.” You gulp out, nervous, yet body flaming with heat.

“Y/N, best friends help each other out… tha’s all it has to be, jus’ me making y’feel better.” he says, hand coming to run down your upper arm. And the second you started talking about this, his cock has been twitching where it’s confined his jeans.

“You can make all the decisions, all the calls, m’kay?” The statement was reassuring.

You lean into his touch, caving without anymore of a fight, “Okay… alright. Just… tell me if you change your mind. Please?”

His lips curl into a satisfied smile, feeling his hand get taken by yours. It’s much to risky to be fucking around with your best friend on the families patio, so you lead him down the steps into the dark, open backyard.

They have a pier, that’s lit with small solar lights, and that’s the first place you can that is reasonable enough to go. You tug him along the wooden decking it has, feet drumming against it.

Against a tree was too dark, and you at least want to see his cock if you’re getting the opportunity to touch it.

“On the pier, hey? That desperate.” He teases, and you push him with your free hand into one of its big wooden pillars.

“I want your cock down my throat, how’s that for desperate?” You scoff, pulling a laugh of pure shock from his own lips.

“I’m serious, H.” You look at him, stone cold expression. You are so riled up and ready to touch him that you need immediate confirmation this is something he wants.

“Go on, said you wanted it.”

Before you sink down onto your knees, you question him further, “you want this, though?”

A smile spreads over his mouth, “baby, you’re gonna be able to feel just how much i want this when you get down there. I was bricked the second you said you were horny.”

That was all you needed, dropping to the ground on your knees— now with his consent, your filter completely disappeared.

“Fuck me, Harry. I don’t think you understand how sexy you are.” Hands immediately coming up to squeeze the muscle of his thighs.

He hums a noise as he looks down at you on your knees, “Never thought legs would do it for you, but here we are.”

“Only thing i could think about is digging my nails into your thighs…”

You drag your hands back up to where the buckle of his belt laid, grabbing at it and undoing it. Slipping it out of the loops in his pants in a swift movement.

Leaning forward, you lift the hem of his black shirt, pressing your mouth against his happy trail.

You’re a slut for that little teasing patch of hair that dips below his low jeans. It causes you to whine out, a wordless sound of appreciation as you peck kisses over it.

The button and zipper quickly got undone by your nimble hands, and you finally brush over the prominent bulge that’s perked up in his boxers.

A realisation that you’re about to see your best friends dick for the first time kind of hits you, causing you to roll your lips between your teeth.

His suddenly strained voice comes from above you, “fuck, Y/N, don’t get shy with me. Y’can take me out.”

He’s almost ready to beg, even though this is all technically for you. But he didn’t anticipate how sensitive he would be when it’s a special girls hands running over his bulge.

However that’s exactly how it is, he’s already biting his lip as you cup him through his briefs, head tilted backwards with a sudden shared need.

You draw his jeans further down, “patience, im just enjoying you, pretty boy.”

The doting nickname earns a small groan from his lips, paired with the fact you’re now mouthing at his inner thighs. They’re warm and firm, dusted with dark hairs. You suck the most inner and upper part of his thigh into your mouth, causing him to grunt out.

You busy yourself with that particular part of his skin for a moment, rubbing the backs of your hands around the flesh of his ass. Still unfortunately covered by his briefs.

“So fuckin’ good to me, H.” You muttered into his soft skin, dragging your nose over to kiss the fabric covering his hard cock.

It makes him twitch, “letting me do this… and touch you where I want.”

You sound so out of it, replacing your mouth with your hand momentarily so you can go back to kissing his thighs, teeth impulsively barring over them. He shudders at the sensation.

After a bit more teasing, you finally start to pull the waistband of his black calvins down.

When his cock is fully out, you moan. You straight out moan at the sight of it. It’s glistening tip is a flushed red, beading out a sliver of precum for you, and it was safe to say he’s well equipped.

The two of you curse in sync as you hold him in your hand, feeling the weight as you stroke gently.

“Christ, tha’s good.” He curses out, hips stuttering forward slightly. You take a moment to look up at his face.

His cheeks have gone a slight red, and his lips are shiny from his teeth and tongue constantly running over them. Not to mention the way his lidded eyes are gazing down at you.

You hold eye contact as you lean in to lick over his tip in one solid stroke, watching his face twist in pleasure.

It makes your core drip. Seeing his cock, tasting it, watching him react to your touch. It fuels you to take his tip into your mouth, giving a gentle suck.

Your fingers take refugee digging into his thighs, and you are already loosing you mind with him between your lips. Somehow, you’re almost convinced you could come just from sucking on his dick.

Your self control is completely shattered now, you draw back and spit over his length, listening to him groan out as he watches the action.

“Drool on me, darling.” He says, the gentle demand makes you eager to impress him. You liked the idea of him telling you what to do… maybe even forcing you.

Fuck, you are sick and twisted, you scoffed internally at your self. Yet proceeding to gather your saliva and let it dribble down onto him.

“Thank you, thank you…” you murmur against him, and he twitches at your still airy voice. He would kill to know just how wet you were between your legs.

It was such a sight for you though, seeing him start to get slicked up with your own spit. Your mouth reconnected with him, sliding further down, hand coming up to massage his balls.

You’re whining around him now, starting to move in a sort of rhythm over his cock. You can’t help it, you were becoming frantic at him filling your throat.

The vibration of your mouth sends his hand flying into your hair, drawing a cuss from his lips, “fuck, Y/N…”

You get his cock as far as you can into your mouth without gagging— you’ll leave that for a little later— stroking the remainder. There’s something about the way he takes up the space between your lips, the feeling of his thick cock atop your tongue.

You glance up at him, fingertips teasing the inner parts of his thigh. Just as you look up, you give a harsh suck, hollowing out your mouth and lathing your tongue on the underside of him. Feeling the vein that runs along him.

His head almost bangs back against the wooden beam he’s leaning on, you feel the slight stutter of his hips.

A moan reverberated around you, filling your ears pleasingly. You draw back for a breathe, “you taste so good.”

His hand curls in your hair, panting out, “You’re such a needy girl…”

“Like that?” He asks at the whimper that come from you, “like being told that I see how desperate y’becoming?”

You nod immediately, “please…”

At your way of asking for more dirty talk he smiles, “becoming my little slut? Warming my cock with your mouth just because you’re so horny for it.”

When you don’t reply with words, and only a senseless moan, he taps your mouth with his fingers gently.

“Show me, baby.”

You part your lips almost instantly at his command, jutting your wet tongue out, ready to take him back into your mouth.

He guides his cock back between your lips, and that’s about as far as he gets before you have to take over from him again. All he can register is how hot and warm you’re mouth is as it wraps around him again.

You start to bob your head, taking him all the way down your throat with a slight gag. You’re whining without warrant now, all over his spit slicked cock.

It’s paired with his own moans of pleasure and words of praise as you suddenly draw back, flicking over his wet tip with your tongue, teasing it and making him grunt.

Your soul existence quickly slips to being just about his cock and hearing his noises. Being able to look up at him and see the sweat beginning to sheen over his forehead, and the mess of his soft hair.

His eyes are squeezed shut, and he has to forcibly open them every so often to see you. A reality check for himself that down on her knees, is his best friend. Drooling all over his prick with a insatiable need.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He states as you take him all the way down your throat again.

“Taking me like the slut y’are. Might ‘ave to fuck you like one later, how’s that sound?” His mouth has gone loose now, brain muddled with only thoughts of you in it.

You suck and nod over him, brain rioting with a yes at his question.

“Probably so wet, so warm.” He mutters in half thought, and the idea of him even thinking of you like that makes you clench multiple times in your panties.

You roll you hips against nothing which he is grateful he caught with his half lidded eyes. The look of sheer desperation that crossed your face.

Moving faster, you starting taking his cock at a pace that immediately made his hand coil tighter in your hair.

“Fuck… im gon’ come faster than I’d like if y’keep— shit— doing that.” He moans, and you draw back quickly.

“Need to taste it… please, Harry.” You beg, forcing your throat back down around him once you’d got a breathe.

You gagged around him in full this time, earning his hips bucking against you.

Strings of dirty talk and cusses were flying out of his mouth, like a litany being repeated over and over. He kept praising you.

“That warm mouth…fuck… fucking me so good baby. Want to keep y’down there for hours, like m’personal little cockslut.”

Your nails dug into the backs of his meaty thighs, making you moan around him. Spit was covering your chin as you moved hastily over his hard prick.

“Like that idea?” He asked gruffly, “making you drool all over me like this until I’m empty, an’ y’ve come in y’panties to the point you’re dripping.”

You feverishly bob your head, sucking hard against him. If his bucking hips and loose mouth are any indicator, he’s getting close.

A few more minutes of your mouth, and he’s swearing, “im gonna come, dove— fuck— where do y’want it?”

Trying not to stop to long, looking up at his flushed face and blown out eyes, you lowly plead, “on my tongue, please…”

“Good slut, good fucking girl!” He slurs out.

You draw back to his tip, eager to taste him properly. You spit messily over his pulsing red head, kitten licking over it while your hand fucks the rest of his length at a fast pace.

It has him a wreck, and before he know it, he’s moaning out so loud he’s almost scared he woke someone in the house up.

“Fuck! I’m going to come, baby, im gonna come!”

You watch in completely infatuation as his eyes screw shut and his mouth drops into a gasp for air. You feel his hips stutter, and his cock pulse and twitch as it releases onto your awaiting tongue.

He tastes so good. You feel ashamed for even liking it that much, but as it spurts out his tip and drips onto your lower lip, your insane over it.

You rub it in with his tip, coating it over your tongue, and he pants as he opens his eyes to watch you.

It’s a sight etched into his mind forevermore. The fact his come is painted all over your tongue right now.

“Swallow it, pretty girl, let me watch.” He exhaustedly instructs you, voice raspy and deep in his post orgasm haze.

You do as told, and realising some has spilt even onto the corner of his thigh now that you’ve let him go.

Not letting it go to waste, you clean it off with a lick of your still eager mouth. Gently kissing over the spot as well.

“Taste so good, H.” You whisper against him, moving over to kiss his tip a final time.

“Thank you, again. For letting me do that…” You almost feel more satisfied than you would have if you had gotten to come as well.

“Made me feel amazing, baby.”

Or so you thought, because once he raised the point again… “If you want, since I can only imagine how desperate your little cunt is, I can return the favour somehow?”

And it was impossible to say no when he looked like that, boxers still half down his beautiful legs and face flushed that sexy shade of red.

You were in for a night, that was for sure. So much for an early morning.

———

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #he’s so #fuck me I need him so bad #anyways #hope you enjoyed #ily #last oneshot of 2023

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reshinless · 2 months ago

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──── ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა day 3: rock my world !﹒⟢﹒

ᯓ★ ── . summ. in which you were offered a job by your highschool bsf, geto, to be the manager of their newest rockstar boy band cursed souls; but they're a little short of money this time.

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ director's note. bye not me deleting this the first time..

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ pairings. sukuna, suguru, and choso x gn!afab!reader separately + tgt

ᯓ★ ── . warnings. nsfw, filming, foursome, masterbation-ish.

"sugu— can we even.. are you even listening?!" you watch as your best friend geto simply chuckle at you furrowing your brows at him. "this is serious! and i'm concerned as your manager and as your friend." you crossed your arms, a subtle scoff escaped your lips.

he simply shrugged and leaned back into his seat. "look— pretty.. you shouldn't worry too much about it." tuning the bass guitar in his calloused palms, scars scattered across on his forearms. you can't believe you accepted this job..

"you two! come on, suggest something for funding your next concert. this is for you guys, not me." the loud, blaring sound of music plays outside, "and 5 minutes 'till you guys go onstage. and take it seriously this time, 'kuna." you glance over to choso, and sukuna who're getting ready to perform in front of their fans.

"yeah yeah, whatever we know." sukuna simply scoffed at you, picking up his electric guitar and throws the two drumsticks into choso's hands. "right. we'll do our best, don't worry." a breath of relief exits your throat.

after a long duration of time, of coffee and napping— seems as if they finally finished, waving off to their fans and walking backstage. "great job, guys. but we still haven't figured out a stable source of our money. or at least we aren't getting any revenue. what do you think will be our solution to that?"

sukuna was the leader of the 3 person band— claiming the title of most biased among the trio as well. and understandably as well, he certainly had a charm to himself. and definitely looked like he could treat you right (in bed). one time when you were leaving your apartment complex, you spotted sukuna an apartment away. he just hadn't recognized you in the uniform you used today... he was just waiting at a different door.. he lives here?

he walked inside, hands still in his pocket. you shrugged it off, not thinking too much of it. until you see the next day you leave for manager work, your neighbor is limping the next day.

it was quite similar to the time you ran into an old classmate, briefly watching her as she went home after you drop her off; but.. seeing suguru there wasn't something you were expecting.

it looked like he took his.. shirt off.. and headed off to where she described her bedroom to be. huh.. okay. probably a regular occurrence. but maybe what you saw a week later is a shock.

neither did you expect the shock of seeing choso with someone in the bathroom of the party. you never took him to be the party kind in all honesty- but he was there, what can you do.

he was fucking a pretty girl so good she turned dumb! sounds familiar. her sounds echoed even into the mere hallway you roamed to while attempting to find another bathroom. you'd definitely be lying if you said it didn't turn you on.

especially when you realize he moans your name instead of the girl's when it comes to his sloppy thrusts. did he know you accidentally passed by? did he know that you saw the way you gripped her waist, and fuck her like it was you instead?

probably not.

"hey— are you okay? did you get hurt?" you offered a hand to your neighbor, as she almost slipped trying to get her parcel. "ah? i'm quite fine, don't worry. please.." you shook your head, ringing her arm around your shoulders, picking up the package for her, and helping her inside. "did you get injured? i didn't see you go out yesterday.."

you were puzzled at first, but piecing everything together.. sukuna definitely had a fling with her, she mentioned how she was stressed from work last week, and you can only guess who came over, and got her limping. (spoiler its sukuna.)

it could be the way choso groaned your name, even if it was just simple dry humping.. he moaned.. your name.. the loud plop plop plop of his cock definitely coaxed an orgasm out of the poor girl.

or maybe you remembered the scene of overhearing suguru fuck a girl so good in his room- against the door. you could feel how rough he was with her against the door. small mumbles of your name were hear- your name?

"hey. manager." you're snapped out of your thoughts. "huh?— what's wrong? did something happen?" you turn to him with your body fully. "i appreciate your concern, but we have to talk." he looked a lot more serious than before.

dragging you by your arm— his hold was a lot more gentle than you thought. you could feel his hand tense a little as he brought you to the side. "you said we needed.. a money solution since the agency isn't giving anything right now, right?" "mhm. you have one?"

huh. getting fucked by all 3 of them at the same time? on film? was not on your bucketlist but you weren't gonna complain. every other man that has tried to make you climax has failed. terribly.

"..you were really serious?" he walked over to you, placing a blindfold over your pretty little eyes. "mmm— you bet i was." sukuna who looks over to choso, "we'll give you a little surprise."

wherein you were sat up on the bed, your back getting supported by sukuna, who was massaging your chest, toying with your nipples, but mostly concentrating leaving marks all over your collarbone. as choso moaned, the thought of finally getting to eat you out got him hard as hell.

one hand on the soft plush of your thigh, and the other slowly stroked his cock, hearing the way you'd moan, slightly pulling on his hair. "mmf— 'k-kuna.. who's between my.. legs right now.." "how about you guess, pretty?"

one of sukuna's hands snake to work right above where choso was. eating you out had to be the best thing you've experienced as far as you were into the night.

as you massaged choso scalp, you could tell it was him (he's the only one who was really really silky smooth hair). "haah.. choso.. s'good— doing so good.." you whine as he continued to lap your juices up, not caring whether or not this was 'just for the money'. he's definitely going to make the most of it.

too late to back out, especially when sukuna has a leg over his shoulder, his cheek leaning onto your thigh, watching how pretty your expressions were, the way your entrance reacted to his length. "damn— sweetheart you're tight.." his nails marking crescent shapes on your waist, your body covered in sweat, he definitely was a lot better than those losers back in college.

"ahhn- suku- i can't take it!" you try to close your legs, but the strong grip on your thigh pries it back open. sukuna simply chortles "I know you can, c'mon.. for me?"

watching how your tummy would bulge, watching your hole take in all of his girth at once, loud squelching echoes in the room, looking over to the camera in the corner every now and then. as you were laid down on the mattress, your eyes were close shut until you started to feel hands over chest, rolling your nipples between their fingers. it was geto, as you felt that little scar on your body, you immediately recognized it, and eyebrows knitting in pleasure

"a-ahh— fffuck! t'much, wait!" the way they both were overstimulating you felt great, and overwhelming (in a good way) at the same time. feeling your body flush into his touch. "ah.. uhuh? what was that, pretty?" sukuna looked at you mockingly, teasingly putting one of his hands over your stomach to feel his cock inside you.

"but you don't really want me to stop do you?" you didn't give a reply, ashamed to admit that you really did want him to continue.

"good cumslut." "c'mon, you're taking me so well." are the compliments(?) you heard throughout the time that he fucked your hole, he lifted your hips a little to get a better view, the hand previously holding your other thigh trails over your clit, rubbing it at the same speed his strokes went at

"ssshit- f- ffuck i'm g'na-!" without warning, sukuna finally lands his last hit into you, penetrating your g-spot so well, making you arch your back in pleasure, about to fall over, before geto supports your back, still rubbing your chest, landing his head in the crook of your neck.

"such a dirty manager, aren't you?" he teases, still rolling your nipple around with his fingers, as sukuna grabbed your hips nearly the same time you came; feeling his load pump all up into your stomach.

you couldn't lie- if this wasn't for the money, you probably would've agreed anyway. especially when your long-term crush (being your best friend of 8-ish years) finally fucks you into seeing stars.

without much thought, he flips you over onto your stomach, while your ass is up in the air, letting your face sit in the cushions below you. the sound of skin slapping only made your hole throb more. feeling his thick length get sucked in by your pussy.

"s- sugu'!" you could barely speak of his name, let alone any other words than slow down.

the camera stopped recording awhile ago.

as you woke up the next morning, you received almost 5 calls, oh- another one just now- what's with all the calls?!

"yes- hello?" ... "yeah this is them." ... "my offer for the venue's been accepted?! oh my gosh! yeah totally! today will work out just fine!"

turns out they (sukuna, choso, suguru) had the money all along though :)

dunno i just wanted an excuse to write about 3 of them in one go

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mvrkieboo · 2 months ago

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Old Bloodhounds

P40 | i see the end

You were trying so hard not to fidget, not to let your smile drop even though Xiaojun and Haechan were being really funny right now. At the back of your mind, you can just see Yoonsu coming closer and closer, wearing Junyoung's face only to distort it, to ruin it, and the memories of Junyoung you have only ever allowed yourself to keep.

Poor Junyoung, buried somewhere in an unmarked grave.

You practically jumped in your spot when a hand gripped on your shoulder. Mark flinched, standing just right by your side when you let out a sudden yelp at the contact. Both of you turned around, and you automatically let out a fake enthusiastic smile as you reluctantly let Yoonsu wrap his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace that lifted you off your feet.

He pushed you away so he can look at your face more closely.

"Junyoung! Oh, it's been so long. I'm glad you made it." You hoped your voice didn't sound too stiff, unconvincing, and terrified instead of happy.

Junyoung's face smiled back at you, but the glee he expressed through Junyoung's soulless eyes was venomous instead of genuine.

This was pure torture.

Yoonsu said he was doing you a favour, but you knew how aware he was in what he's doing with you. There was pure horror and repulsion in your eyes that made Yoonsu the happiest man on earth right now.

Mark looked between you and Yoonsu, wondering why your eyes didn't match your words. When Yoonsu finally let you down, sincerely in love with the way your hands almost desperately clawed at his chest to pull away from him. Mark's eyes didn't miss the way you pulled away from the embrace too—fingers curled at the front of his hoodie, nails attempting to dig in past the thick woven fabric and into his skin.

"Now who's this?" Ningning chirped, and you turned around back to them, the smile still carved into the corner of your lips, making the muscles in your cheeks ache.

"Everyone, meet Lee Junyoung. He was my senior at my highschool in Gangnam, and he helped me out a lot back then when I needed it."

"Hello, everyone. It's nice to see that Y/N actually has so many friends now." He mimicked Junyoung's signature smile that pushed his eyelids close, making the knot in your stomach twist inwards.

You wanted to kill him. With your own bare hands. You wanted to take a knife and carve his face, to pull Junyoung's face away from such a repulsive man.

"Where were you all this time then?" Yangyang spoke almost monotonely, face set straight.

Where were you when Y/N needed you while she was forced to work for a loanshark?

"I moved overseas 3 years ago, to the Philippines, because of my mother's job. I wished we never moved though." Yoonsu turned to you, giving you a meaningful look, eyes telling you all sorts of warning.

"It's okay, I never blamed you for leaving me. You're here now."

You felt like throwing up. You felt like Junyoung's ghost was pulling on your noose from behind, but when you glanced at it, the locket was still hanging off your neck like it usually did. It just felt so much tighter and heavier now.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

"Your friends are more annoying than I thought. The guy who asked me that question—that's Yangyang, right?" Yoonsu didn't even bother to glance at you, still inspecting the music themed accessories on the counter.

"I'll manage him. He's harmless, Yoonsu. Don't mind him." You quickly quipped out, and the palpable fear in your voice made him scoff.

He really loved how scared you were at the moment.

"You know, you should be thanking your stars that your godfathers are practically untouchable. Members of the Min clan—a prominent old money chaebol family—owe them a favour. They're powerful enough to crush me like I'm some sort of roach and flush my body down the toilet without getting caught. Do you know why they're so indebted to Geonwoo and Woojin?" Yoonsu turned to you, bending his body so his face was close to yours.

You shook your head. When you were still working for him, he once slapped you for having bad breath. Markhad let you finish his americano earlier, and you're not taking the risk of getting another slap from Yoonsu in public.

Yoonsu smirked at your meek behaviour and stood up straight again.

"Kim Myeonggil, who used to be a prominent loanshark, had humiliating blackmail material over a member of the Min clan. Thanks to Geonwoo and Woojin however, that blackmail was literally incinerated and Myeonggil is now behind bars—after getting his ass beat by Geonwoo."

You knew Geonwoo and Woojin had connections to the Min clan, but you didn't think it was because they did them a great favour. Yoonsu grasped your cheek, feeling your stone cold skin under his cold palm.

"Now, here you are, someone Geonwoo and Woojin care for, under my mercy for the blackmail I have over you. It'll be real poetic once I kill you. You're their karma, Y/Nnie."

oooooooooooooooooooooo

You entered your unit, startled to see your brother in the kitchen area together with Geonwoo and Woojin. They were cooking dinner altogether, and for a while you stood there at the doorway. Watching your family cook dinner in the kitchen, wearing silly aprons, working in tandem. Yuno always wondered what it would feel like to have older siblings above him that would take care of him just like how he takes care of you, and now his wish was fulfilled, in this short moment that will forever live on in your memories, seared into the back of your mind.

Geonwoo was washing the dishes while Yuno was following Woojin's orders on the steps to making the perfect eggroll. Yuno looked like he was enjoying himself.

Yoonsu will break this family apart. He swore he would, and you knew he always keeps his word.

When Geonwoo turned his head and saw you, you smiled. A genuine smile, for the first time in three days.

Yoonsu was going to kill you after ruining your life anyway, and let you reunite with Junyoung. What's the pain in enjoying this small moment of happiness as it is?

prev | masterlist | next

A/N : if my writing is all over the place here, please excuse it. im kinda high on sleep deprivation rn

oooooooooooooooooooooo

taglist [CLOSED]

@spiderm444rk @morkiee @xiuriii @solvrse @neozon3nha @herebyaccident0 @injunnie-lemon @mystverse @dearmonamour @v-6893 @sehunniepot @bee-the-loser @nessaassen02 @luluvhs @sunghoonsgfreal @docilismo @neocrashed @soobinbunnie5 @cigarettesafterjae @dudekiss3r @kittydollzz @urlocalbeaner5 @polarisjisung @conwunder @wonupuppy @jae-n0 @413ktz @kimsaerom @meowtella @aerivrs @swanyvess @morkleesgirl @sthwaaberry @nominzn @grassbutneo @spicyryujin @koizekomi @sunflowerhae @markeroolee

#nct fanfic #nct smau #nct scenarios #nct mark #mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee x reader smau

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dazed--xx · 2 months ago

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💘When Hearts Collide💘

Member: Non-Idol! Hyunjin x Reader

Word count: 9.9k +fake texts

T/W: angst, mentions of puberty, stereotypes of male and female friendships, teasing (friendly), Underage drinking (PLEASE BE CAREFUL wont say don't do it in my culture its pretty accepted if its a sip or two), jealousy, mutual pining, suggestive behavior but no smut (Theyre minors...like ill imply or mention that they've had sex or not cause their age range is 16-17 years old which is over the age of consent if its with another minor in the same age range but as a 26 year old I wont be writing teenagers having sex just seems odd to me), mentions of suicide but like in a joking way, arguing, Jungkook is legit voice of reason character. anything else that could potentially be a trigger.

A/N: wow i actually like loved this story and I was such a bitch about it. man the "groups chats" gonna love this one.....lol but nah fr I really appreciate the requester for this. i legit wrote it every chance I got these past few days so I hope you enjoy it. Also I might do another one from Li-Rin’s perspective cause it might be really cool and good too do

Can men and women be just friends?

Y/N thought so, for many years, she held her best friend Hwang Hyunjin close to her heart. Seeing him as more of a chaotic twin brother than a romantic partner. They had met at the tender age of 5 years old in kindergarten. She could remember it like it was yesterday when he extended the half-eaten candy bar to her as she wailed about not having a snack. His bright doe-eyed smile as he helped her wipe her tears. The soft pat on her back as she nibbled on the candy. She hadn't realized how this small interaction would develop into the most important friendship of her life.

Y/N will admit, unlike the other girls, she hadn't noticed Hyunjin was a guy until her second year of high school. While plenty of girls in middle school would fawn over him, she never really saw the appeal they had when it came to her best friend. This was the boy she saw cry for hours when his favorite anime was cancelled and he screamed like a final girl when he was tossed into her pool by her older brother. He was the kid she spent her summer nights in a tent collecting fireflies and telling ghost stories with. She saw him throw up on Choi Soojin when they kissed at a birthday party in 6th grade, and cry like a girl when Kim Mina broke up with him to date his friend in 7th.

How could she ever see him as a man?

She would have sworn that she never could if he didn't disappear the summer between the first and second year of highschool. Dance camp was what he had told her when he finally could answer her calls. His voice was deeper than it normally was and Y/N shrugged it off, not bothering to think much of the explanation until she saw him. That's when she realized it wasn't only his voice that could change when he hit puberty. Though she had developed before she started high school, she forgot the changes that came with puberty. No longer did her best friend have a chubby-cheeked baby face, his features were much more defined. Y/N wasn't sure how to handle the way her heart raced when he smiled at her. The way he ruffled her hair before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into a tight hug.

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as her breath hitched in her throat. She hugged him back after a moment, before quickly trying to pull away from him. Her eyes avoided his as she continued to rack her brain for some kind of explanation as to why she had felt that way toward her best friend. While she had, had a boyfriend before, he never made her heart flutter like that. She was surprised when she felt Hyunjin's grasp on her waist tighten as he inhaled burying his face in her neck. "Where are you going? I missed you a lot, let me hold you for a second" He whined. She knew her face was a bright scarlet at his words. How could it not be? Her heart was pounding against her chest. "I-I missed you too but I don't want to be late..." She stammered shyly as she went to pull away from him again, this time turning away from him and he kept his arms wrapped around her waist letting his chin rest on her shoulder.

A pout sits on his lips as he stares at her "When did class become more important than me?"

"Will you be able to make my mother not be on my ass about college?" Y/N questioned as she raised her eyebrows as she tried to pry his arms from around her waist. "Stop treating me like a creep let me hug you I haven't been able to annoy you for almost three months" He groans. Y/N shakes her head as she palms herself at his words.

"You are a creep if you hold on to a girl without her consent"

"You're a girl?" Hyunjin asks in disbelief his hands resting on her waist as his eyes travel from her face down her neck, his teeth involuntarily taking his bottom lip as his eyes linger on her chest and hips for a moment. Y/N rolls her eyes at his words not noticing his wandering eye. "I can remind you if you'd like..." She teases playfully. Hyunjin's eyebrow raises in amusement for a moment before he shakes his head to himself before letting her go.

"How's that?" He whispered in her ear. He pressed his chest against her back, and Y/N turned her head to face him. She bats her eyes at him flirtatiously. "Wouldn't you like to know?" She teased as she scrunched her nose at him and walked toward the entrance to the school. Their sophomore year continued with flirty touches and whispers filled with unofficial infatuation. But they were still just friends and nothing more in Y/N's eyes. Nothing too different than normal teasing between best friends, they didn't really mean anything by it.

Right?

The summer proved to be confusing.

While she spent her days either with Hyunjin or at her part-time job, she found her eye wandering in her best friend's direction more and more. She found herself more excited to be at work than hanging out with Hyunjin the more summer went on. The close proximity she and Hyunjin typically kept when they hung out seemed to become overwhelming for her for some reason. Her friend, Li-Rin, swore she was developing a crush on him. Y/N could remember vividly how adamantly she denied the claim.

How could she have a crush on Hyunjin? It's Hyunjin...She never thought she would see him that way, and how could she? They've always been closer to siblings, so much so that their birthdays were separated by only a day. She never once thought that she would feel her heart flutter when he smiled at her. Nor had she expected her cheeks to turn a bright crimson every time he leaned in close to watch a video on her phone or when their finger brushed as she handed him something. She hated it honestly, how could she be one of those girls. She needed time away and felt picking up more hours at work would help her clear her mind and figure out how she felt about him. Spending that time away was helpful but she couldn't avoid him when she got out of work. He was practically part of the family, due to his living at the sharehouse her parents rented out to her and her friends. Her parents adored him and always invited him to holidays.

Y/N thought the party Li-Rin invited her to would finally be her escape. A way for her to get away from Hyunjin and her confusing feelings for him and clear her mind. Maybe even meet a cute boy in the process. But the moment she saw that familiar onyx mop of hair and lanky build with a petite brunette on his arm, she felt her comfort completely extinguish.

How could he be everywhere? she wondered as she made a beeline for the kitchen to indulge. The cluster of colorful glass bottles that sat beside the sodas drew her attention as she reached for a clear bottle with a red seal around the top. "Vodka....You sure that's a good idea?" An unfamiliar male voice questions from behind her. She groans in frustration as she turns to the person "Is that really your--" Her words are trapped in her throat as her eyes meet his. He's almost like a work of art and you weren't talking about the tattoos that littered his right arm.

He chuckles with a smirk as he raises his eyebrow in amusement. "Wow...You're actually speechless. I've never had this happen to me before" He comments. She shakes her head pulling herself out of her trance as she grabs a red solo cup, "I-I was caught off guard..." Y/N murmured twisting the cap off the clear bottle. The guy stares at her worriedly as she pours a large amount of vodka into the cup filling it almost halfway showing her inexperience. "Woah.. that's probably not a good idea" He warns as he tries to grab the cup from her.

Y/N's movements are faster than his as she quickly tries to drink the whole thing but the moment the stinging liquid hits her throat she feels herself gag. "Yup. That was probably a bad idea...." The stranger nods as she coughs at the burning sensation in her throat. She felt the stranger pat her back, comfortingly as she coughed up her lung. "I'm Jungkook by the way" He states sarcastically "You know? Since I have to take care of you now" his lips curl into a flirty smirk. Y/N groaned at his words "Nah, I'll be okay.." His eyes widen for a moment as she goes to walk away from him and embarrassment fills her gut. The lack of experience with alcohol made her body tingle with warmth, the room felt wavy. "W-wait!" Jungkook calls as he grasps her wrist. She stares at his hand as if it was a foreign object and he pulls his hand away.

"Sorry, but you just took a lot of alcohol to the head...you should probably sit down." He states as he lifts his hands in surrender. You stare at him with nervous curiosity. "No funny business and I'll just help you to the couch." He states calmly.

"Why?" She questioned nervously.

"You looked like you didn't know what you were doing when you were trying to get something to drink. I mean you clearly didn't even know that even for a heavyweight that was way too much to drink all at once.." He confesses.

"So what? You're some knight in shining armor or something?"

He chuckles at your words. "Nothing like that. Just want to make sure a pretty girl doesn't get taken advantage of or hurt herself because she didn't have someone to help her learn how to drink" Y/N smiles kindly at him as she accepts his offer.

Maybe she could get over Hyunjin...

It had been a little over an hour and Jungkook being the nice guy he was, he didn’t leave Y/N’s side.

The room no longer spun as she and Jungkook talked about everything and nothing at all. Y/N regretted not being a couple of years older, losing any chance to get with him when she told him her age, and as much as she wanted to forget about him; Hyunjin and his little friend wouldn't leave her mind. What were they doing? She wondered. Who was she? His new girlfriend?

Jungkook playfully taps the rim of his cup on her forehead. "You still in there?" He questions with a chuckle. Y/N smiled as she rolled her eyes at him. "I'm sober now, you know?" She replied brushing over her spacing out. Jungkook raises his eyebrow in amusement "Really? Wanna take a couple tests to prove it?" Jungkook questions with a smirk as he rests his arm across the back of the couch adjusting himself to face her. His free hand reaches out for her chin taking it between his forefinger and thumb as he examines her features. Y/N gives him a look saying 'Are you serious?'

Jungkook nods at her, smiles, and brings his hand down as he notices her relaxed state. "Not completely sober but tipsy, so that's better than before," he says calmly. Y/N was about to say something when someone sat between her and Jungkook. Y/N's eyes widen as she recognizes her best friend, who sloppily leans on her shoulder.

"Baby..." Hyunjin whined as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Y/N sighs as she's greeted by the strong scent of liquor. "Hey, Jinnie..." she coos soothingly. Hyunjin's face lights up as she rubs his back. She gives Jungkook an apologetic look and he gives her a reassuring smile as he lifts his beer toward her before taking a sip. Y/N giggles at his gesture and Hyunjin looks between the pair. His eyes burned holes into Y/N's cheek. "Who's he?" Hyunjin slurs before leaning into Jungkook's face "Who are you?" he questions, a hint of bitterness in his tone. Y/N grabs Hyunjin's sleeve tugging him out of Jungkook's face.

"Sorry, Jungkook oppa...This drunkard is my best friend" Y/N apologizes as she gives Hyunjin a warning look, who stares back at her with a look of disgust as he feels jealousy filling his stomach. "Oppa? Since when have you known each other?" He questions, his tone laced with annoyance. Jungkook answered him this time, "Met Y/N earlier tonight, She was....experimenting and it backfired" He chuckles.

"Was I talking to you?" Hyunjin questions as he gives Jungkook an annoyed look. Jungkook's eyebrows raise in amusement "You're talking about me and in my vicinity, Best Friend Hyunjin" Jungkook's tone is playful and sarcastic as he begins to find amusement in Hyunjin's reactions seeing how red his face turns. Hyunjin scowls at Jungkook as he goes to stand up before Y/N grabs the sleeve of his hoodie.

"Sit." She grits. Hyunjin gives her a look of disbelief, his mouth hanging open partially. "But bab--" Y/N holds her hand up, cutting off his words. "No, apologize...he's our sunbae and he helped me out a lot tonight" Y/N explains. "You're drunk, Jinnie..." She gives him a look of concern as she caresses his cheek lovingly. Hyunjin leans into her touch for a moment before nodding, with a guilty pout. He turns to Jungkook, bowing politely "I'm sorry, I-I've been drinking and I was rude..." He mutters reluctantly. Jungkook gives him a reassuring smile "Don't worry about it, I've done way worse"

"You want me to bring you home, Jinnie?" Y/N asks worriedly as Hyunjin reaches for her hand, taking it into his as he leans on her shoulder and begins to play with her fingers, trying to stop the room from spinning. So cute...Y/N thinks as he pouts as he tries to snuggle into her. "Come on, Let me bring you home." She coos as she stands up. Jungkook helps lift Hyunjin off the couch and escorts him outside. "Y/N, you aren't driving right?" Jungkook questions worriedly. She shakes her head, "No, thank god our share-house is only a 5-minute walk so I didn't drive." She states as the crisp autumn air kisses her skin. Jungkook sighs in relief "You need me to help get him there?"

"No, trust me I'll be fine"

Jungkook doesn't protest as he leans Hyunjin back against her and she lifts his arm over her shoulder. Hyunjin immediately wraps one of his arms around her waist pressing his chest against her back, his other arm wraps around her shoulders and he nuzzles his nose against her temple. "Hmmmnnn..." He sighs "So pretty...."

"Thanks, Jinnie but lets get home, 'kay?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Hyunjin questions as he continues to cling to her; making their walk a lot harder than it needed to be. Y/N shakes her head "I don't have to report to you, but I also didn't even know I was coming until I just did" She shrugs.

"I would have come with you. we could've had f-fun together though baby...I wouldn't--i wouldn't feel so worried...right now" He slurs as he tightens his grip on her waist. Y/N raises her eyebrow "Worried? Why?" Hyunjin just shakes his head "You don't get it... you won't understand..." He whines his voice cracking as he rests his head against the back of hers.

"When don't i understand you?"

"Always! you always ignore everything I'm trying to do and think I do things for stupid reasons like because I'm your best friend!" Hyunjin shouts. Y/N feels surprised at his declaration as she tries to hold onto his arm. "What are you talking about?" She questions as she feels him rest his chin on the top of her head. "hey! I'm not your crutch stop, you're heavy" Hyunjin ignores her as he stops their movements hugging her tight.

"Why did you have to be with that guy? Why not me?"

"Jinnie, what are you talking about?"

"That guy! Why were you with him? How long have you known him? Is he your boyfriend now? He's not, right?" Hyunjin slurs his voice full of worry as his grasp on her tightens. Y/N shakes her head "No? I just met him, I drank too much and he helped me sober up. Besides Jungkook oppa isn't interested in a minor, he's 5 years older than us" She retorts. Hyunjin lets out a sigh of relief as he loosens his grip on her and leans in kissing her temple. "Good...you should be mine. Not anyone else's" He mumbles into the kiss.

"God, how much did you have to drink?" Y/N questions. "Not a lot in the beginning..." Hyunjin slurs and Y/N raises her eyebrow, turning her head so she can face him. Her cheeks heat up as the corners of their lips touch and she pulls away slightly.

"And after the beginning?" She asks her voice laced with concern.

Hyunjin hangs his head "I was gonna pace myself, I know I should b-but--why were you with him?" He asks again cutting off his own explanation due to his intoxication. Y/N felt unease settle in her stomach and a subtle sense of guilt. "I just told your drunk ass that I drank too much earlier...Thank god I'm sober enough for this right now" Y/N groans as she tries to get Hyunjin to continue walking but he stands his ground and holds her in place. "Why were you all over him then?" He questions, pain and jealousy laced in his tone.

"I was drunk...you're all over me right?"

"I could be..."

"You are...." Y/N rolls her eyes at his ignorance. "No...not the way I wanna be...can I show you?" He whispers as he presses himself against her. Y/N goes to turn to look at him to scold him, his hand moves from her waist to her cheek as he leans in and presses his soft lips against hers. Y/N's eyes widen as she freezes, Hyunjin's eyes flutter closed as he groans against her lips. She hesitantly responds to his kiss, letting her lips move against his for a moment. She felt her heart swell as he kissed her deeper his tongue brushing over the entrance to her mouth. Y/N goes to pull away, her sobriety making everything seem way too overwhelming.

"No.." Hyunjin whines as his lips chase hers and he turns her around so she is facing him. "Taste so good...don't make me stop" He slurs. His drunken state is more obvious and Y/N can pry herself away from him. "You have to. I need to get you home and you're being a pain" Y/N pouts as she takes his hands in hers comfortingly. Trying to brush over his previous actions, her heart raced a mile a minute as he furrowed his eyebrows. His angelic features looked completely flushed and she felt her guilt grow stronger.

"Kiss me..." Hyunjin whines as he takes his hands from hers and holds her face as he leans in, brushing his lips over hers. Y/N leans back and hurt flashes across Hyunjin's face. "You're drunk..." Y/N reasons as she grabs his wrist finally able to get him to start walking back to the sharehouse. "So?" He questions with a pout.

"I'm not kissing you when you're drunk..."

"I'm not a girl..."

"Being a guy doesn't make it consensual, especially not when you're this drunk. you still don't have a solid mind to consent to anything so don't make me a pervert."

"You just did..." He murmurs as he trudges behind you. Y/N sighs in frustration at his brattiness. "You kissed me, which I will be overlooking because you're what?...say it with me here, Drunk" Y/N jokes but it sends a painful shock straight to Hyunjin's heart.

"So if I kissed you sober? Will you stop me then?"

Y/N freezes for a moment. Her face heated up. "You won't..."

"I want to..." Hyunjin confesses as he reaches out to caress her hip. “If I try to, will you let me?" Y/N raises her eyebrow in amusement. "You'll have to try and see..." she replies, trying to sound nonchalant but flirty. Hyunjin leans over her shoulder, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

"You think I won't?"

"You've never shown interest in doing it before," Y/N giggles, trying to lighten the mood as she grows nervous. Hyunjin scoffs, "That's a lie. We kissed at Nam Hyunjoo's party." A look of frustration sits on Hyunjin's features as Y/N shakes her head.

"That was 4 years ago, Jinnie, and a dare" She retorts as she sighs in relief as they finally walk through the gate of the share house. Hyunjin trudges behind her "It doesn't matter it happened..."

"Yeah, Yeah. go to bed" Y/N waves him off as they enter the house. Walking toward the couch she sits down allowing her muscles to finally relax; her head rests against the headrest. Hyunjin places both of his hands on the back of the couch as he leans over her "Stop doing that, Let me kiss you now" He whines as he leans in closer and Y/N leans forward for a moment brushing her lips over his teasingly before shoving him back by his shoulders and gets off the couch opting to escape to the sanctity of her bedroom.

"Sober up first" She states with a wink as she disappears up the stairs.

Y/N thanked GOD that Jungkook helped her out the night before, completely avoiding a hangover and being able to make it for her shift today. The fast-paced environment of the diner on a Saturday morning, the hectic and ridiculous amount of tickets, and not enough coffee to go around. But even in the chaos, Y/N finds herself grateful to find her mind occupied with something other than Hyunjin like it had been for the past 12 hours. She didn't sleep a wink, her heart in her stomach from the moment she went upstairs.

The ghost of his lips lingered on hers. She had a hard time remaining in her room and not taking care of her best friend, but his persistence in her kissing him made her feel butterflies rise in her stomach. She had a hard time accepting how much she enjoyed it, it was Hyunjin; He was her best friend. They'd kissed before, how could it feel so different when he kissed her this time? How could everything be such a mess? She had drifted off into a restless slumber in and out throughout the night until she had to get up for work at 4:30 am.

From the moment she opened the doors, she no longer had time to think about anything but breakfast items and coffee orders. As it began to slow down, she heard the familiar chime from the bell. She greets the customer as she wipes down the counter. "Take a seat anywhere.." She instructs them kindly as she turns around and is greeted with a familiar face. Jungkook stands there with an amused smile and another guy next to him pats his shoulder as he walks toward the bar. Y/N sighs as Jungkook presses the bell, she notices him leaning over on his elbow and he waves playfully giving her a teasing look.

Grabbing a coffee pot she walks over to the pair, a service smile on her lips as she stands in front of them. "How can I help you today?" She asks, professionalism laced in her tone. Jungkook smirks and raises his eyebrow "Half a cup of vodka" He teases. Licking her lips, Y/N looks around for her boss. "Go fuck yourself" she retorts when she doesn't see him nearby.

Jungkook places his hand over his chest as he scoffs in faux offense "And here I came to check on you and everything..."

"No, you didn't. you literally said you were gonna harass me at my job last night"

"Damn, thought you'd be too drunk to remember" Jungkook chuckles as his friend scrolls on his phone completely uninterested in the conversation. "Speaking of being too drunk to remember, You have a hard time with your friend?" Jungkook asks as he flips the mug in front of his friend and himself over and gestures for her to give them coffee. Y/N complies filling both of the mugs as she shakes her head trying to avoid talking about Hyunjin too much. "Nah, it's not the first time he's been blacked out. Kinda always his caretaker" She shrugs. "Are you gonna eat too?" She asks as she pulls her pad out of her apron, clicking the pen. Jungkook raises his eyebrow "Is it free?"

"Broke College student meet broke highschooler" Y/N snorts as she waves her hand in front of her, gesturing toward herself. Jungkook rolls his eyes before scanning over the menu placed in front of him.

"Can i get a bacon egg and cheese bagel?" Jungkooks friend asks and Jungkook nods along with him. Y/N writes their order and goes to enter it in the POS. She feels a tap on her shoulder and turns to see her manager standing there. "Sir?" She questions puzzled.

"Go on your 30 after you put it in, Hera's gonna cover you" He states calmly before turning away from her. Not needing any more instruction you quickly finish entering Jungkook's order and clock out for your break. Walking toward the break room, she stops in front of the lockers grabs her phone, and walks out the back door to get fresh air. Turning her phone on it comes to life with messages from Hyunjin.

Y/N felt her cheeks turn a bright scarlet as she read the pet name. How could such a simple request make her heart race so much? How could she be feeling so excited to go home now? The memory of their kiss lingers in her mind. Brushing her fingers over her lips for a moment before she realizes her behavior. Her eyes widen as she quickly brings her hand away from her lips.

Oh Fuck....She likes Hyunjin.....

Y/N didn't know how to handle her epiphany.

The more she spent with him, the more her feelings seemed to blossom. She felt her eyes searching for him and her heart racing faster when he called her name. Even when the school year started she figured her heart would finally settle now that they were in separate classes and they would only see each other in passing due to her cram school. But she should have realized how persistent her best friend could be, he and Li-Rin rarely got along besides a few tipsy interactions and taking care of the other hungover self until Y/N was available to take over. To say she was surprised to see the pair now getting along swimmingly would be an understatement.

Due to Li-Rin's budding friendship with him, Hyunjin no longer breaks away during lunch and would come with Li-Rin to hang out with them. Every once in a while, he and his friends would disappear for who knew what and Y/N would finally gain the ability to breathe again. She sometimes dreaded these days when Hyunjin needed to be extra clingy before going to his class in the morning. How should she keep trying to play things off how she normally would? For years she would have brushed off his flirty remarks and clingy actions but now she found herself reciprocating. She knew how dangerous this could be, how crossing the line with him beyond a drunken kiss and flirty words could ruin everything they'd built over the years. But as the weeks continued to go by she found herself not caring as much as she once had.

She finds herself feeling more and more eager at the idea of giving in to her emotions and just confessing to Hyunjin. What could be the harm? He was her best friend for a reason. They understood each other on a level no one else could reach. "Y/N, Li-Rin" Hari calls the pair over as they look around the cafeteria. Y/N smiled feeling a sense of relief as she didn't see Hyunjin and his group of friends seated at the table. Walking over to where Hari was seated, Y/N smiled at the 3 other girls who gave her a friendly wave. "Y/N, Hyunjin finally let you off the leash?" Sol-i teases as Y/N sits beside her. Rolling her eyes Y/N chuckles softly "So I'm a dog now?" She raises her eyebrow. Hari giggles as she joins in on the teasing "I mean with the way you two cling to each other you'd think they're married" The girls laugh at the joke.

Y/N feigns disgust "You realize he's just my best friend right?"

"Is that why you guys made out at the party Friday?" Hari questions with her eyebrow raised and Y/N feels her heart drop into her stomach.

"What? What are you talking about?"

Hari rolls her eyes as she leans in closer "I saw you guys, completely sucking face right down the street from Felix's place" She giggles and Y/N's eyes widen as she begins to stammer in a panic "W-what? N-No. No, it wasn't--we weren't sucking face it was just a kiss." The girls gasped "So, it's true?" Li-Rin questions, an unfamiliar look on her expression. Y/N looks at her for a moment "Hyunjin was blackout and feeling clingy so he kissed me. But it was just a stupid kiss, that Hyunjin probably doesn't even remember so it doesn't matter." She argues trying to change the subject. "You guys should totally go out, you guys would be cute" Aera comments cheekily. Y/N groaned in response as she hid her face in her hands.

"Can I just die right now?"

"Why? Because you LOOOVVEE him?" Sol-i teases.

"No, because you guys are embarrassing" Y/N states as she softly throws a fry at her. "Don't get mad at me because you like him"

"N-No, I don't" Y/N lies, trying to keep her feelings private while she tries to work them out. However, She feels a real relationship could possibly work out with Hyunjin. She wouldn't want to ruin any chance she had by involving her caring and loving but nosy friends in the mix. Y/N felt herself grow anxious as Ji-Rin's face lights up at her refusal. "You don't?" Ji-Rin asks her eagerness for the same answer evident and Y/N complies. "N-Not like that. H-He was drunk so..."

"Good." Ji-Rin sighs placing her hand over her chest as if she's relieved. "So, what's everyone gonna do tonight wanna study at my place." She asks trying to change the subject, Hari's eyebrow raises and the other four's eyes meet each other as they feel an awkward tension settle over the group.

Before Hari speaks up "Nah, put that shit in reverse and park it. The fuck do you mean good?" She challenges. Ji-Rin gives her a puzzled look "What do you mean?" she questions with a confused pout her head tilting to the left side slightly.

"What I just said. What do you mean good? Do you like Hyunjin or something?" Hari asks with shock and a defensive tone. Ji-Rin smiles giddily as she covers her face with her hands. "Maybe~" Ji-Rin replies "Kinda..." Hari scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest as she goes to say something to her, Y/N kicks Hari under the table as she notices Hyunjin and his friends making their way over to their table. "But--" Hari tries to argue, and Y/N turns her head away from Hari "Not the time."

"This looks intense." Hyunjin's friend, Jisung comments as he raises his eyebrow in amusement. Y/N gives him a kind smile "No, Missy, why do you look so grumpy" Jisung questions as he ruffles her hair and sits beside her and the rest of the guys go to sit down. Hyunjin stands behind Jisung with his eyebrows furrowed as he stares between the pair, jealousy fills his stomach. "Hyunjin, there's a seat here" Li-Rin calls him gesturing for him to sit beside her, his mouth hung open for a moment wanting to protest but in the end, he slumped his shoulders and trudged over to the seat beside Li-Rin. He grumbles something under his breath toward her and she rubs his arm comfortingly as she whispers something to him and he nods with a sad pout.

An uncomfortable feeling fills Y/N's stomach as she stares at the pair, when did they get so close? Hyunjin said they had gotten along a little easier after Y/N had left her to watch him; but could things have gone further than a friendly understanding being built? Y/N tried to focus on the conversation Jisung had dragged her into but with Li-Rin's previous confession, Y/N could not drag her eyes off the pair. She felt betrayed, how could Li-rin do this to her? No matter how often Y/N denied it, there was a reason the girls always made jokes about her and Hyunjin being together. Li-Rin could see her closeness with Hyunjin, even if she didn't have feelings for him, liking Hyunjin would be crossing the line for any of her friends and they knew this.

Li-Rin was a newer addition to the group, Y/N had met her in her first year and they quickly hit it off. Y/N's longest female friend, Hari, always held a small dislike for Li-Rin. Sol-i and Aera held a neutral stance never showing her disdain but also never getting too close to her. Y/N was the one who trusted her wholeheartedly and accepted her.

how could she like Hyunjin?

Was she messing with her? She had to be. It had to be a joke. How could Y/N confess to him if her friend likes him? That would be so cruel to Li-Rin, no matter the line crossed Y/N wouldn't stand in her friend's happiness. Li-Rin didn't choose who to like, these things just happen. If anyone understood that it was Y/N, but why did it have to be now? Why couldn't it be last year? Long before Y/N really understood how she felt about him and she wouldn't feel like she's being a terrible person if she were to confess. Now that she knew Li-Rin liked Hyunjin, Y/N felt panicked as she watched the way he smiled at her while they talked. While he kept a small distance between himself and her, Y/N could see some form of a connection built between the pair. It left her unsettled as one question lingered on her mind.

Does Hyunjin like her too?

Y/N felt herself panicking during her cram school.

Hyunjin went to study with Li-Rin and Jisung. She felt herself growing nauseous at Li-Rin confessing before Y/N could talk to her about her expose at lunch. She watched the clock as the time continued to drag on. It felt like an eternity as she watched the clock a minute away from 10:30 pm.

As soon as her cram school ended, Y/N quickly made her way to the bus stop and pulls out her phone to text Li-Rin.

As she reads Li-Rins last message, Y/N feels her heart sink into her stomach and she drops her phone as if the device had burned her. Looking around in embarrassment hoping no one saw her, she quickly grabs her phone off the ground in front of her as the bus pulls up and she gets on. Walking toward the back of the bus she sits in a seat in the second to last row, leaning against the window her mind races,

What did she say?

Y/N read the message over and over again, hoping it would change. She felt bile rise in her throat as she contemplated what to reply. She wasn't sure what to do. How should she respond? What could she do? Was being a good friend saying yes? She wasn't sure if she even wanted to. How could she set the guy she likes up with anyone, let alone her friend? She felt tears prick her eyes as she struggled to find an answer as she felt someone tug on a strand of her hair.

Chalking it up to an accident Y/N stares out the window at the bright lights of the city. She almost loses herself in her emotions when she feels the person behind her tug on a strand of her hair again. Feeling irritation swell in her gut she turns around to cuss out the person. "The hell is your--Jungkook Oppa?" She questions her eyebrows scrunching together in confusion as the older male sat there with a mischievous smirk. "Finally you notice me. You know you're quite elusive" He comments with a chuckle. "I tried to say hi when you sat down but I don't think you heard or saw me"

"And you thought harassment was a good way to get my attention?"

"It's fun to annoy you. You look like crap though what's up?"

Y/N rolls her eyes at his comment "Cram school. Why do you always seem to piss me off every time I see you?" Jungkook shrugs as he shifts to sit next to her. "What's up though? Cram school sucks but it doesn't usually make you cry." He questions worriedly. Y/N crosses her arms over her chest and shrugs. "Nothing...Just stupid stuff I guess." She groans. Jungkook shakes his head "Every problem seems like the end of the world at your age but if you talk to someone older they usually seem small" He tries to convince her to open up as he bumps her shoulder with his.

Feeling her resolve crumble to dust, Y/N rambles "Ugh, It's nothing--just you remember my best friend?"

"Vividly"

"Well, my friend said she might like him and ever since the night of the party I've been freaking out because he kissed me and I liked it" She states as her speaking speeds up slightly "But I never used to like him like that before so I wouldn't have cared if my friend liked him before but now I do like him so I do care that my friend likes him" Jungkook stares at you blankly. "Jesus fuck I think you gave me a stroke trying to keep up with all of that" Jungkook jokes as he rubs his temples. "So what you're saying is you and your friend both like Hyunjin?"

"Yeah..."

"Okay? and why is that your problem?" Jungkook asks seriously raising his eyebrow. Y/N's eyebrows furrow in confusion "What do you mean? We both like the same guy, that's wrong..."

"Who told you that?" Jungkook questions with a puzzled look on his face. Y/N stares at him dumbfounded and he sighs "Look kid, there's nothing wrong with you both liking the same guy. It's how you both handle it that will determine if it's wrong to like him or not. Does she know you like him?" Y/N shakes her head "She asked me but I just figured out how I feel so I told her no, but it's cause I thought I would have time to figure out what to do"

"Then you can't be mad at her for anything. You lied so you should fix that first, then you should tell him how you feel and let him determine who he wants to be with before you girls go fighting each other." Jungkook advises.

"She asked me to help her go out with him....am I a bad friend if I don't do it?"

"You are if you lie to her about it" Jungkook shrugs as he sighs "To be 16 and only worry about stupid shit like this again" He states in a wishful tone. "You aren't that much older than me" Y/N comments. Jungkook lifts his hand placing his index finger over her lips as he closes his eyes "Shhhhh....I'm reminiscing"

"Well, Ahjussi, you said you went to Seoul national and lived on campus right?"

"Uh-huh, why?"

"Cause we're driving past it" Y/N points out the window and Jungkooks eyes snap open as he jumps up from his seat staring out the window before he pushes the button signaling a stop and it pulls to the side of the road when it can. Y/N stifles a laugh as she covers her mouth with the back of her hand. "You're embarrassing Oppa" she comments.

"Shut up! but remember what I said" Jungkook waves her off as he rushes off the bus.

Jungkook was right....

It was childish to expect for friends to not eventually like the same person one day. It's a normal obstacle while growing up and people can't control who they develop feelings for. Is what Y/N told herself, but for the past two days every time she saw Li-Rin and Hyunjin together; she wanted to put her head through a wall. It didn't help they were paired up for a project in their class and the time they had spent together doubled as Y/N's time with him dwindled more and more.

While she still occasionally was able to hang out with him in the mornings and at lunch, something felt different about their interactions. They were distant and withdrawn and it felt odd. Y/N wasn't used to not having her best friend cling to her. But for the past few days, she couldn't remember the last time Hyunjin had any physical contact with her. Y/N found herself drifting off into thought as she sat at a table in the library, Li-Rin asked her to study with her earlier in the day and Y/N felt the need to talk to her about her request.

Y/N struggled to find a way to bring it up. How do these types of things usually go? What was it Jungkook said again? She contemplated as her mind went a mile a minute. Honesty. start with honesty she sighs to herself.

"Li-Rin...." She gasps. And the girl perks up lifting her eyes from the textbook "What's up hun?" Li-Rin gives her an innocent expression as Y/N feels her heart sink into her ass. "Uh, S-so you remember what we talked about the other day?" Li-Rin gives her a confused look "What? Hyunjin?"

Y/N nods "Well i wasnt exactly honest with you guys"

Li-Rin shrugs "Kinda figured..."

Y/N looks at her lap in shame "I'm sorry but I don't feel comfortable setting you up with Hyunjin." Li-Rin's eyes widen in surprise "Woah! no it's fine, we already talked and are hanging out alone Friday and stuff" She confesses almost as if she is rambling. Y/N feels her heart stop "Oh? Y-You confessed?"

Li-Rin looks around, a look of panic on her features. "Uh--Y-Yeah...sort of..." She states as she nervously looks down at her textbook, mumbling something under her breath. Y/N's blood runs cold "O-Oh..." she stutters as she bites her lips hesitantly.

Li-Rin looks at her apologetically "Y/N..--Don't let this get in the way of our friendship okay?" Y/N cuts her off as she chokes back her sadness and gives her friend a reassuring smile. "You said you sort of confessed so, I'll take a step back and if he officially says yes to you then I will work on moving on." Li-Rin feels guilt eating away at her. "I'm so sorry, Y/N..."

"Don't be. If he says no to you, then I'm gonna confess...it won't be right after and I'll be there for you wholeheartedly, and you'll still feel complete support from me no matter what okay? But I do think that, if he says no to you, then I deserve to have a chance to see if something could work out between us.....because with our history I really think it can..." Y/N confesses. "So, I'm going to be a bad friend for this one time and this one time only, because you surprising me with your feelings like that wasn't fair, I hope things don't go as you planned and whatever you plan on doing a bird poops on your head while your confessing and he laughs"

Li-Rin gives her a bewildered expression "A-are you alright in the head? You want a bird to poop on me when I confess? What if I'm inside?" Li-rin questions teasingly.

"Then I hope you fall....wait no that's mean no I don't. umm" Y/N struggles to think of something bad enough that she could laugh at her friend but not too bad she could be hurt. "I hope you pee yourself" Y/N exclaims excitedly. "Shhh" The librarian whispers in her direction and Y/N hides her face in her textbook as Li-Rin stifles a laugh.

“You’re an idiot”

Y/N felt her face fall at Hyunjin's obvious anger toward her. It had been two weeks since Y/N and Li-Rin had talked. while Y/N wanted to support her two friends' budding relationship, she felt nauseous and annoyed whenever Li-Rin and Hyunjin appeared together. Why not me? She'd wonder Why couldn't it be me? She felt guilt rising in her stomach. She had been avoiding him for longer, something about this year had changed her. Y/N didn't understand, before the idea of not talking to Hyunjin would be painful but since she had spoken to Li-Rin; talking to him hurt the most.

How was she supposed to move on? How could she be with someone else when, to Y/N, no one else could compare?

She couldn't handle it, and in the nature of honesty, she had kept her feelings for him to herself. Though every day she felt herself struggling to refrain from just marching into his bedroom and confessing. A snap in front of her pulls her out of her thoughts. "Polynomials are frustrating but not that much, which means you're not paying attention so you owe me 5 bucks" Jungkook states sarcastically. Y/N's eyes widen "5 bucks?! We agreed on a dollar"

"You weren't paying attention for 5 minutes"

Y/N gives him a look of disbelief "You took my job! You should know I'm broke." she exclaims. Jungkook shakes his head as he wipes the counter, raising an eyebrow at her "I'm literally working, tutoring you, and reading your texts at the same time" Her mouth hangs open as she goes to argue and Jungkook places his finger in front of her lips. "Shhh. Thank you, Jungkook"

"For what? Being nosy?"

"Being smarter than you"

Y/N rolls her eyes as Jungkook gives her a knowing look. "Don't okay? Hyunjin and I aren't your business" Jungkook snorts as he tosses the rag over his shoulder. Leaning back against the prep line "From where I'm standing there is no Hyunjin and you." Y/N shakes her head as she lifts her math textbook. "Not what we're supposed to be focusing on" She states as she gives the book a gentle tap on the counter. "You got distracted first" Jungkook puts his hands up in surrender. Y/N sits there, staring up at him expectantly and Jungkook raises his eyebrow "What?" he asks crossing his arms.

"Come on out with it..."

"Out with what?"

Y/N gives him a look saying 'Are you serious' with a tilt of her head. "I can literally see you trying not to combust. Holding back from just giving me advice because you know you're too damn nosy" Jungkook scoffs holding his chest in offense. "First of all missy, I'll have you know that you should feel lucky I care enough about you to be nosy." he narrows his eyes. "Oh thank you, I'll appreciate all the gold produced from your touch...."Y/N mocks. She jumps in surprise as she feels a sharp sting on her forehead as Jungkook retracts his hand away from her face. "Did you just flick me?" She exclaims.

"Anyway, why are you here with me, studying math when you could be with the guy you're in love with?"

"Because you'd miss me too much" Y/N smiles and Jungkook rolls his eyes "As much as I appreciate your presence, soul-sibling, I've known you for like 4 months at best and even I know that's bullshit" Y/N groans and covers her face in her hands. "Ugh, I just don't want to see him all over Li-Rin." Jungkook shakes his head giving her a disapproving look "If it was gonna bother you this much then you shouldn't have told her you'd support her if she confessed"

"You act like I knew it would bother me this much!"

"Is that why you haven't clarified our actual relationship to him?" Jungkook raises his eyebrow. "I'll tell him..."Y/N trails. It was Jungkook's turn to give a look of 'Are you serious?' "When? When he and Li-Rin stop hanging out?" Jungkook quips and Y/N smirks "Exactly"

"Bullshit! You're a minor that shit aint happening with my name"

"I'm kidding, Jesus old man take a joke." Y/N scoffs as she closes up her textbooks. Jungkook gives her a stern look "Clarify it or stop coming around me" Y/N's mouth hangs open in disbelief and Jungkook shakes his head in response "Don't give me that look missy. You not clarifying that we only see each other in a sibling way, makes me seem like a pervert." Y/N furrows her eyebrows in frustration "Can't I just make him jealous a little bit? I never insinuated that we like each other"

"No. I'm a fucking adult, Y/N. That's petty kid shit and honestly, you're above it too. You told Li-Rin you'd support her so keep your word or go to her and tell her how you are feeling about it." Jungkook shuts down her suggestion firmly but his tone held a caring concern. "Why do you have to be so annoying?" Y/N scoffs. Jungkook's eyebrow raises "Because I'm right?"

"Yes..." Y/N grumbled as she rested her chin on her hand looking away from Jungkook. "Stop avoiding your best friend too. It's stupid and gonna hurt his feelings. You already hurt him and pissed him off. Do you want to do more damage?" Jungkook lectures and Y/N rolls her eyes. "You do know you're not my real brother, right?"

"Really? You harass me like you're my sister though?" Jungkook scoffs as he shrugs "I mean, it's nothing for me to turn the register back on and cash this out"

"Okay, raising the white flag...hurry up so you can bring me home" Y/N raises her hands in surrender as she gestures for him to mop the kitchen. Jungkook rolls his eyes and shakes his head grabbing the mop

"I should've called out..."

One second....All it takes is one second for a calm peaceful day to turn into a storm.

Y/N sat in Jungkook's passenger seat feeling her drowsiness kicking in as he drove onto her street. The radio was playing some random playlist from Jungkook's phone, but Y/N felt herself finally relaxing for the first time in a while. Her mind sat free of worries and stress as she stared out the window. She felt excited as Jungkook pulled into the driveway. "wow you weren't lying..." Jungkook quips as he parked the car. "You really run a share house with your parents?"

"They come to manage it but they live like 10 minutes away in the same town as Hyunjin's parents. I usually decide residents after background checks since I live here and right now it's just me and Hyunjin and one other guy that's like always at work but he cleans up after himself and doesn't bother anyone so"

Jungkook shrugs as he nods "Want another tenant?"

"And live with 3 guys? I'd rather you hit me with your car." Y/N retorts. As the pair hears a knock on the passenger window, Y/N jumps in surprise. She turns to see an upset-looking Hyunjin peering into the car and she opens the door slightly. "Jinnie?" She questions "What's up?"

"Who is he?" Hyunjin asks as he stares directly at Y/N accusingly and she raises her eyebrow in confusion. "I'm Jungkook, we act--Was I talking to you?" Hyunjin cuts him off and Jungkook snorts "We've gotta stop meeting like this Hyunjin." Hyunjin narrows his eyes at Jungkook as he raises his eyebrow at him "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not fighting a child. I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N" Jungkook waves Hyunjin off as he holds out his fist for Y/N, who returns his fist bump and exits the car. Y/N stands there as Jungkook drives off and gives him a wave. Hearing a scoff from behind her she rolls her eyes and turns to her best friend. "Jinnie,--no. I'm pissed right now. like are you dumb or just oblivious?" He cuts her off and Y/N stares at him confused. "Hyunjin, what are you talking about?" A figure sitting on the stairs draws her attention, Li-Rin gives her a guilty smile and waves and Y/N looks back at Hyunjin even more confused. Why was Li-Rin here?

"Why are you spending so much time with that guy?" Hyunjin questions. "Like, can you not see that it's bothering me? How long do I have to sit there and just deal with this shit? What do I have to do to get you to look at me? Be your best friend? Support you in everything? kiss you? Oh wait, I've done every single one of those things, and still! still, I'm not enough for you? What is it going to fucking take, Y/N seriously" His voice growing more and more erratic as he stares at her with desperation on his features. Y/N feels her heart race at his rant, what does this mean?

"J-Jinnie...I didn't realize it was bothering you so much. but I don't know w-where this is coming from..." Y/N trails "You're more than enough for me. I don't understand?" Hyunjin groans in frustration "Can you seriously not tell I like you?" Y/N feels butterflies in her stomach her eyes widen and her cheeks turn a bright scarlet, but just as soon as she feels her excitement, guilt replaces it. Her eyes drift over to Li-Rin and she feels Hyunjin's hands encase her arms "Fuck Li-Rin..I'm talking to you!"

"Wow...Thanks dude" Li-Rin retorts sarcastically.

"You know what I mean!" Hyunjin snaps at her "Why are you still here?"

"Jisungie told me to be nosy" Li-Rin quips as she leans back on her hands. Y/N stares at them puzzled. As Hyunjin turns to her "Go home. It backfired and I'm not in the mood right now." Y/N furrows her eyebrows as her ears perk up. "What backfired?" She questioned as she stared at the pair. "Nothing...Li-Rin just agreed to help me and it didn't work" Hyunjin grits as he scowls at Li-Rin who scoffs "It was a stupid plan. How am I supposed to pretend to have a crush on you when I'm dating your friend?"

"Jisung did fine...." Hyunjin argued.

Y/N feels like a bucket of ice was poured over her head. Li-Rin pretended to have a crush on Hyunjin? To help him? Y/N couldn't help the feeling of betrayal that welled up in her chest. Tears burned in her eyes "Y-You guys made a plan?" She questioned in disbelief, her voice just above a whisper. Hyunjin looks at her with guilt in his eyes "I-It wasn't anything bad I promise you...I just wanted to know if you felt the same way" Y/N ignores him and stares at Li-Rin "Am I a joke to you?" taking a couple of steps so she is directly in front of Li-Rin and Hyunjin grasps Y/N's arm pulling her slightly back "Its not her fault..." Y/N shoves his hand off her as she steps back in front of Li-Rin and nods waiting for Li-Rin to answer.

"Of course, you're not a joke to me..."

"So you're expecting it correct?" Y/N asks and Li-Rin nods. Y/N brings her hand across Li-Rin's cheek harshly. "Y/N?!" Hyunjin exclaims in shock as he pulls her back from Li-Rin, who stands up and waves him off "Don't.....I deserved that" Hyunjin shakes his head "No, this is my fault I'm the one that asked for help" He argues to Y/N. Y/N looks away from him as she rolls her eyes "She's a big girl that can make her own decisions." Li-Rin nods as she pats Hyunjin on the shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Y/N" She waves as she walks down the street.

Hyunjin and Y/N stood there in silence for what felt like an eternity before anyone spoke. "Baby,--oh you thought you were pissed." Y/N cut him off and Hyunjin's body deflats. "You manipulated me..."

Hyunjin's eyes widen in a panic "N-No, it wasn't like that I swear" He stammers as he steps closer to her. His heart sinks as she takes a step back "Y/N..." She sighs at the dejected tone in his voice. "Jinnie, Just-just give me a second okay?" she states as she takes a deep calming breath. "Can I ask why you couldn't just talk to me?"

"You always think I'm joking or drunk or bored.." Hyunjin pouts. "How could I ask if you liked me like that? You always said I'm your best friend so I never thought you'd look at me like that" Y/N sighs as she rubs her hand over her face. "We're dumbasses....just straight-up fools I swear" She mutters, and Hyunjin raises his eyebrow in confusion "Huh?" "Nothing, we just both are stupid people who forget the other is our soulmate. Jinnie, of course, I like you that way, how could I not? You're literally everything I would want in a guy" She confesses as she goes to walk inside to bring the conversation out of the cold before it dawns on her "Hold on," She points as she turns back to Hyunjin with a quizzical look "You said I always think you're drunk or joking" a panicked expression flashes across Hyunjin's face.

"You were drunk that night right?"

"I--Well, you see what had happened was..." Hyunjin trails and Y/N's mouth hangs open as she closes the front door. "Nope, you stay in the cold until the conversation is over now. Hwang Hyunjin, I swear to god if you made me basically carry you home and you were almost completely sober I'm telling you now that I will disown you" Hyunjin shakes his head "Was tipsy at best I promise" He puts his hands up in surrender. "Wasn't as drunk as I made it seem 'cause I wanted to kiss you and you always let me when I'm drunk" Hyunjin explains cautiously. Y/N rolls her eyes at him "So you're manipulative? You realize that's a giant red flag right?"

Hyunjin nods "I'll be color blind if you do..."

"You already know, basically born that way" Y/N jokes with a shrug and Hyunjin rolls his eyes at her as he wraps his arms around her waist. "So, we are like, dating now right?" Hyunjin asks as he rests his chin on her shoulder. Y/N shrugs as she doesn't respond pretending to contemplate her answer. "Babyy~" Hyunjin whines as he begins placing soft pecks along her neck. "Don't torture me" Y/N shakes her head and turns around wrapping her arms around his neck "So don't ask a stupid question" She retorts as she scrunches her nose at him.

Hyunjin gives her a small chuckle before pressing his lips to hers engulfing her in a passionate kiss. Their lips danced together before Y/N pulled away "I knew you'd be a better kisser sober..." She joked

"Shut up...."

taglist: @yangbbokari @lovesunshinefelix @tr-mha-fan @threeopossumsinacoat

#skz angst #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids reactions #hyunjin angst #stray kids imagines #skz fake texts #hwang hyunjin angst #skz hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyujin imagines #hwang Hyunjin request #hyunjin fluff

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anton-luvr · 1 year ago

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hi ! can i request bf!eunseok giving fem!reader special treatment and friend group!riize realising it and teasing him about it ? thank youu <3

# ANYTHING FOR YOU.

⚝ bf!eunseok x fem!reader | fluff | highschool au, secret relationship au ⚝ note ; im so sorry that this took so long anon T_T im also not sure if its what you were hoping for, so im sorry if its not :') but thank u for requesting! <3

Along with the end of the year, comes final exams, last minute cleaning out your lockers, and of course - school parties.

And with your class being famous for throwing the best school parties, almost everyone in your year had crowded into your classroom.

Tables were pushed aside to make space, only leaving a few in the center for the best game of all - rock, paper, scissors.

But there was a twist, thanks to Sohee's genius but devious mind.

"Whoever loses has to drink my special drink!" he shouted across the noise, waving a plastic cup in the air.

It was definitely special with whatever the hell Sohee mixes in to it.

There was a combination of every soda in the room, along with a spoon of nacho cheese, a splash of chili sauce, dumplings stolen from Anton's lunch, pizza crumbs, and a concerning amount of pickles.

Not only did it smell disgusting, it also looked disgusting.

But hey, you only live once.

So here you were, up next after Wonbin to play the game against Sungchan, who had been winning five games in a row.

"Hey, are you sure?" Eunseok whispers, gently tugging you back towards him by the elbow.

"Yeah, why?" you ask, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Well, don't get me wrong, but you usually lose in rock paper scissors." your boyfriend says sheepishly, laughing when you jokingly punch him in the stomach.

"I'll win this time, just watch." you boasted, practicing your skills by throwing random signs in his face to show just how prepared you were.

"Sure, you'll totally win." Eunseok teases, pinching your cheek lightly.

You'd punch him in the stomach again, but Sohee announces that it's now your turn.

"Wish me luck!" you squeal before walking up to the table, a determined smile on your lips.

"Ready to lose?" Sungchan asks, looking relaxed.

You scoff, stretching your hand out. "You should ask yourself that question." you retort, challenging him.

"Alright, Sungchan vs Y/N! Start!" Sohee shouts, making another cup of his special drink for the loser.

Things get intense the moment Sungchan starts the game off, the brown haired guy mumbling the chant before throwing out the sign of his choice.

You win the first two rounds, and sweet victory was just one more round away.

Until Sungchan won the following two rounds, the results of your game all relying on the final round.

Your lips are pursed together nervously, confidence slipping away as you try to focus harder.

"Rock, paper, scissors... shoot!" he shouts, and you throw a scissor sign.

Sungchan throws out a rock sign at the same time, instantly winning over you while everyone screamed in surprise and disappointment.

Dread fills your chest when you realize you have to drink Sohee's special drink, the boy already making his way over to you with the cursed plastic cup in his hands.

"Chug! Chug! Chug!" the crowd cheers as you take the cup from Sohee, shifting nervously on your feet.

You peer cautiously into the cup to see a marshmallow from god knows where floating above the greyish-brown liquid, a smear of chili sauce at the side while a bittersweet smell hit your nostrils.

"I added more things! Enjoy!" Sohee sings out before joining in with the crowd to cheer you on.

All you can do is sigh and take a deep breath, eyes closing shut to prepare yourself for the mess you got yourself into.

But the cup has barely touched your lips when you feel someone snatching it right out of your hands, and your eyes fly open to see Eunseok downing it all in one go.

The crowd cheers even louder, screams of 'That's so sweet!' and 'He's so cool!' bouncing off the walls.

You're still blinking in shock as he sets the cup down on the table, wiping at his lips with the back of his hand.

"Not bad." he says casually, shrugging.

The crowd just about loses it at this, and you see people shoving Sohee around and telling him to amp up on the next drink.

"No, no, wait!" he shrieks, waving his arms around for everyone to shut up.

"Why'd you drink it for her? She was going to drink it." he asks, eyebrows raised suspiciously at his best friend.

Eunseok freezes with an awkward smile, face slowly turning red as he tries to come up with an explanation.

"I-I just wanted to try it. That's all." he coughs, eyes glued to the floor.

"Really?" Seunghan butts in, smirking at the both of you. "You and Y/N are starting to look like the fire hydrant outside."

"Well, it's hot in here!" you protest, fanning at your flushed face.

"Yeah, and the drink might make her sick!" Eunseok adds.

The crowd lets out an amused 'Ooooh!' at this, and it's Shotaro's turn to say something.

"Don't you think the drink might've made Wonbin sick too? But you didn't drink it for him. What, are the both of you dating?" he teases, giggling.

"Well, so what if we are?" You blurt.

Eunseok turns to look at you so fast, you could hear a small snap go off in his neck.

Everyone starts screaming at this, the noise making you wince.

"You are?" Anton repeats, eyes wide with surprise. "You're capable of love after all!" he cheers, patting Eunseok on the back.

His face turns impossibly redder as he smiles, scratching the back of his head.

"I knew it! I always knew something was going on between the both of them!" Sohee screeches, running over to squeeze Eunseok in a hug.

"Alright, stop bothering them!" Sungchan hollers, knowing the unwanted attention was probably making the both of you slightly uncomfortable. "Who's next?"

He successfully diverts everyone's attention back to the game, and you let out a sigh of relief when the both of you are left alone.

"I'm so sorry about that, I didn't mean to shout it out like that and I was just surprised because you drank it, and I was-"

Eunseok cuts off your ramble with a kiss to the lips, strong and passionate.

"Don't worry about it," he whispers, smiling softly at you as he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. "It's about time they knew anyway."

His words make your heart race, and you can't help but avoid his intense stare.

"W-Wasn't the drink bad?" you stuttered, trying to change the topic.

He shrugs again, slowly backing you against a corner of the wall.

"It was fine." he says, so close that you could feel his breath against your lips.

"I'd do anything for you." he whispers, and he presses his lips right against yours.

The fact that there are almost a hundred of other people in the room with you fades out of your mind at the feeling of his lips, so warm and so soft but so aggressive at the same time.

It would be embarrassing if you got caught, but as long as it was with your lovely boyfriend, you wouldn't mind.

He'd do anything for you, and you'd do anything for him too.

taglist: @wonbons @mxlly143 @keehobaldboy @shawyle @yenart

#sarah's 400 ! ☆#riize #riize fluff #riize fics #riize drabbles #riize imagines #riize x reader #riize eunseok #eunseok riize

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letstalkhockey · 9 months ago

Text

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤.

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: Sometimes people wait too late, and lose the opportunity. So what happens when Jack and Y/n find themselves in that exact position?

Y/n, being Jacks long-time bestfriend, has been in-love with the boy forever. What happens when she’s about to get married to another man?

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: cursing, not proofread, other than that just pure angst and sadness ): (poor jack)

-Hi loves💕 I’ve missed Tumblr, and being on it with you all, but in my recent free time I took some time to write this fanfic, I haven’t decided on what I will be doing as of right now, I’m still staying away from my blog, but for now here’s this! Sorry it is not the most detailed, I haven’t wrote in awhile. Love you all. Xoxo

“Don’t marry him.”

“What?”

Taken aback, your head turned at the boy who sat next to you on the doc, his legs up too his chest whilst he held a beer in his hand. The only light making things visible was the bright light reflecting from the moon and whatever lights had been on the railings of the doc. The warm breeze of the mid-summer air blew over your bare legs that hung over the doc, your feet grazing above the water.

“Don't marry him y/n.”

This time, you'd heard the boy much clearer, although you couldn't help the way your mind went blank.

You shook your head, not being able to hold back a laugh, “No- no, Jack. you don't get to do this to me.” You stood up from where you'd sat. Twas the night before your wedding, Which was being held in Michigan, your best friend Jack, and the rest of the Hughes family were kind enough to allow you and your fiance, Brad, to stay with them for the wedding at the lake house. Even throwing a party for the two of you just a few hours prior.

And that's what brought you too now, sitting on the dock of the lake house, with your long-time best friend, Jack Hughes, whom you've loved ever since he shared his juicebox with you during 2nd grade recess. Going through highschool years later, only sparked your feelings that you held back. After highschool, when Jack got drafted, that same night, you confessed your feelings. But of course, Jack being Jack, he brushed you off and acted like nothing happened. Not one of you has brought up that night since. Yet, it still haunts you to this day.

But now, out of all times, he decides to tell you not to marry the man you loved. The night before your wedding.

“You're not doing this to me. Your not ruining My wedding.” You cry out, your arms flailing, Jack, placing his beer down, stood up in front of you. Looking at you with pleading eyes.

“Y/n-”

You push him back by his chest, but he grabs ahold of both of your arms.

“No! No- no.” Tears filled your eyes, quick to roll down your cheeks. One of your biggest fears was for this too happen, and well won't you look at that.

“You had 3?- 3 Years! 3 whole years to tell me. To Tell me why I shouldn't marry him- and I wouldn't have. 3 Years and you didn't. It's too late Jack.” His eyes glossy, your cheeks stained. His mouth empty, yours filled with pain.

You felt his grip loosen to either side of your arm.

“You don’t get to break my heart just because you can’t fix yours. I’m marrying him.”

He said nothing. For a good two minutes. It was silence, the only noise being the water splashing up against the shore

“I love you.” Jack whispered.

“Your drunk.” You scoffed, eyes switching down to the beer bottle that sat next to his feet.

You wiped the tears off of your face, turning around and making your way up to the house from the doc.

“I mean it- I’ve been in love with you since we were in highschool, and I- I’m an idiot for no telling you sooner-.” Jack said to you, but you continued to walk.

“I’ll see you at the wedding Tomorrow jack.” You yelled back. Your voice cracking.

He said nothing.

The rest of that night you spent awake, not only because of what Jack said, but also because now you weren’t sure if this wedding was a good idea. You loved him, but not the way you loved Jack.

“He’s not coming y/n,” Quinn spoke. The wedding music playing softly just past the door you stood behind with Quinn, and your bridesmaids.

He wasn’t seriously not going to show up, was he?

Quinn held his arm out for you to take. It was supposed to be Jack. He promised to walk you down the aisle.

The door opened, you looked around, no jack. Looking to your right, you watched as Quinn mouthed an ‘im sorry’, you have him a half heartedly smile, your eyes watering, grabbing onto his arm, which was supposed to be jack.

Walking down the aisle, you watched your fiancé, the man whom you loved standing at the alter waiting for you. In that moment, you realized you may never love him the way you love Jack, but that he always loved you. More than jack ever did.

Fuck you, Jack.

#jack hughes #j. hughes #j.hughes #nhl imagine #jack hughes x reader #hughes brothers #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #quinn hughes #hockey fic #nico hischier #nj devils

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wingamy24 · 9 months ago

Text

a lot of jeff/annie shippers have said that i'm just a no-fun anti that fixates on their age gap and, like, yeah, obviously. that's the main problem. but i also think jeff/annie go against both of the character's development.

annie constantly tries getting her "dream man" because she feels the need to be loved. she needs someone to love her and give her approval. she sees that man as jeff because, in her words, she believes that if she teaches someone like him to love, then she'll be loved forever. i think that jeff/annie could've been used as a way to make annie mature and realize that she doesn't need a 35 year old man's approval or attention and that she can love herself the same way... of course, this doesn't work if you try to make them endgame.

and jeff, well... basically, community finale. jeff sees annie as his youth, the one he desperately wants back. and, also, he feels lonely. he's a cold guy that constantly needs to look cool in front of his friends. he's VERY lonely. he doesn't want annie: same as her, he just wants to be loved. he's not used to loving. he wants to experience it, but as annie said in his weirdass fantasy where she was married to him... "is this what you really want?"*

i don't know, i feel like shipping jeff and annie is the equivalent of throwing their characters through the window of a 13-floor building.

*that's the translation of the spanish subtitles, i can't exactly remember what annie actually said in english.

5/3/24 update (i forgot that i wanted to add this)

in general, it just feels like they both want a completely different relationship with a completely different person, and they're trying to force the other to be that person. im mostly talking about annie here. if your favorite community character is jeff winger, you probably are his #1 hater, like me. annie doesn't deserve jeff. she deserves way better. and im not saying this in a "they are so silly hahaha annie deserves so much better than this silly guy" no, annie would get hurt in a relationship with jeff. she has high expectations for him. she has high expectations in general. my girl is FRESH OUT OF HIGHSCHOOL and the only 2 guys we've seen her canonically date are grownass men she met when she was 18/19. jeff just isn't her guy. can you imagine them actually living together? can you imagine jeff sleeping on a bed full of plushies? can you imagine annie groaning as she saw jeff's magazines of women? (jeff canonically has those, by the way) etc, etc. annie deserves SO MUCH BETTER than jeff. also, she doesn't really... get jeff. i know this is weird, i mean, they're friends. but jeff never really opened up to annie or went to her whenever he had personal issues. i don't think they'd be closer than friends (close friends).

there's also a whole thing in their potential relationship that could be harmful to annie: jeff's addiction to alcohol. i reblogged a post about it a few days ago that you might wanna check out

kk guys it's been like 3 days and i found it it's right here!

#im doing a post on why jeff and britta actually help with each others character development #community #community nbc #nbc community #jeff winger #jeffbritta #annie edison #anti jeffannie #anti jeff x annie #jeffannie anti #anti jannie #wingamy rants #community meta

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tenkasato · 6 months ago

Note

could i rrquest some highschool drama with kise ryota? thanks a bunch!

High school drama it is. Please grant me the privilege of being the pettiest, most cliche I could be with this request. Again, sorry for the very long wait. And thank you for sending this request and always being supportive of my work. Enjoy! ^^

Pairing: Kaijo!Kise x reader (implied)

“What did you say?”

Shinohara Tomori looked you straight in the eye as if taunting you. And you were so close, SO CLOSE, to scratching those judgemental eyes out of their sockets and throwing them across the corridor. But you kept your temper at bay and instead waited for this classmate of yours to repeat herself.

“I know you heard me clearly,” Tomori took a step closer and you had to lift your head a bit to keep the eye contact with the taller girl, “Kise-chan doesn’t want to have anything to do with you, so I suggest you stop following him like some lost puppy, because you’re just making a fool out of yourself.”

Seriously? Such a girl existed? You thought you only saw these kinds of scenarios in the movies.

“First,” you took a step closer, squared your shoulders in an effort to look tough in front of Tomori and her group of (tall) friends, “I don’t follow him around. I’m his tutor and friend. Second, if you’re trying to pull me into a fight and get me to the principal’s office, then you should give up, because I won’t cause a scene.”

A smirk crossed Tomori’s face as her eyes glinted with an almost giddy glee. “You don’t have to pretend. Everybody in this school knows how madly in love you are with Kise-chan. Hate to break it to you, but he’s not interested in someone like you.”

The statement caught you off guard. You bit your lower lip. After graduating from Teiko, you had set your eyes on going to Kaijo for high school. At the same time, Kise was scouted by the Kaijo basketball team. That was a bonus. You were close friends after all. You didn’t follow him here.

That was the truth, but somehow that wasn’t how others saw it.

Gathering up your thoughts, you gulped and said calmly, “You know what, you can go and make silly gossips about me. I don’t care. Go and have your fun.”

Pivoting on her heels, you decided to just let them be. You knew the truth to yourself. There was no point in bickering with mindless girls about Kise because in the end, it was up to them to believe in what they wanted to believe in.

Tomori grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. “Aww, don’t cry. That’s why we’re here, right girls? We’re going to help you move on from your not-so-little crush on Kise-chan.”

“Can you stop calling him that?” you hissed, still struggling to keep your cool, “What are you, close friends or something? I bet Ryouta doesn’t even know who you are—”

You didn’t realize what was happening until you staggered a few steps back after being shoved by Tomori. You weren't given the time to properly recover when the girl started shouting into your face.

“I’ve dated him several times before, you little bitch!”

One of the girls behind Tomori piped up, “Tomori here is Kise-kun’s type, so stop dreaming for something impossible to happen.”

Please, Kise never dated the same woman twice. There was no way Tomori was telling the truth.

You shrugged. “He doesn’t really pick up girls, just so you know. So I’m not sure where you got the idea that you’re his type.”

That did it. Ohh, boy. Tomori’s face was bright red now—almost as red as her lipstick that you wanted to laugh. She grabbed the front of your shirt forcibly. The rest of the girls were now slowly surrounding you in a circle.

“Let me get this straight,” Tomori spat hatefully, “You’re just a little bitch who’s hungry for attention. No matter how hard you study, no matter how much you help Kise, he will never look at you the way you want him to. He’s just using you. Wonder why Kise’s never dated you before? Because you’re just a little bitch with a hideous face!”

Despite the situation that you got yourself into, the impending danger you were about to face from these monstrous witches with unimaginably long talons, you found yourself giggling a bit even though you were a breath away from retaliating physically.

“What’s so funny, little bitch?”

You shook your head in amusement. “Is ‘little bitch’ the only insult in your short list of vocabulary?”

“HOW DARE YOU!” came the blood-curdling screech.

You braced yourself from the upcoming blows from the girls. but none came, much to your astonishment. What was even more surprising was the arm that was now wrapped around your shoulders. You raised your head sideways to meet the gaze of a pair of golden irises.

“What’s going on?”

Shifting your attention from Kise back to Tomori and her band of friends, you noticed how their expressions flickered from smug to surprise and puzzlement just like a light bulb.

Catching up on the way Kise’s eyes now flaring furiously, you tugged on the sleeves of his shirt and murmured, “Nothing. Let’s go.”

“You can’t just let it slip like that,” he said tiredly, looking back at the girls who were still speechless because of his sudden appearance.

“It’s okay. Let’s go.”

You wanted to tell him all the mean things they had just said. You wanted so much to see how Kise would put these girls in their place, and Kise would if you told him to, but Kise should not be dragged into this mess.

As you were about to pull him away from the circle, Kise opened his mouth, “I heard everything you told her. I don’t exactly know when we dated, but don’t you ever talk to her that way again.”

Alarmed, but also slightly please, you started to drag Kise away hastily. This was bad. What if that ruined Kise’s image or something?

“Go ahead! Run! Nobody wants a stupid model like you when you can’t even pass your exams in—”

Shinohara Tomori wasn't given the chance to finish her sentence and not even Kise was able to react on time despite his quick reflexes, because you had tackled the poor girl to the floor with fist raised.

~ O ~

“Why did you do that?”

You made a noise and chose to ignore him. You sulked on the bench with your favourite cup of milk tea. You looked up and gazed at the setting sun.

“Hey you, look at me,” Kise urged, sitting down beside you with a worried expression marring his face. “Look what happened to your face. That girl did quite a number on you.”

You chuckled and turned to him, giving him a full view of the length of the now bandaged scratch you had on your cheek. You gave him a conceited smile. “Not as much as I did to her. Didn’t you see her two black-eyes? Also her busted lips and bruised—”

Kise groaned loudly. “Lucky you were just given a warning. If it were someone else, the principal would’ve given a week of suspension.”

Shrug. “Lucky they like me then.”

He scratched his head in frustration. “We were about to walk away, you know? And you just had to.”

“She called you ‘stupid’,” you grumbled, staring at the cup as though it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Kise watched you play with the straw quietly and waited for you to elaborate. He was only met with silence. This wasn’t the first time you let hell break loose. There was another time in Teiko when you violently kicked a guy in the groin after finding out that he was hurting the basketball players when the referee had not been looking. If Aomine hadn’t pulled you away in time, Kise knew that you would’ve choked the guy to death.

Instead of reprimanding you, Kise placed an arm around you instead, leaning closer. “Don’t go that far for me again, will you? I can handle myself.”

You huffed in response. “Well, tell your girlfriends to stop bothering me then.”

Kise raised his free hand defensively. “Hey, I can’t tell them to unlove me, you know. It’s not my fault they’re obsessed with me.”

“You should really get a ‘real’ girlfriend,” you rolled your eyes and elbowed his ribs gently, “Maybe your fangirls would back off a little.”

His eyes glimmered the slightest at that, but you didn’t see that quick flash as he leaned his head on top of youra.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll get one soon, and you’ll be the first to meet her.”

#kise ryouta x reader #kise x reader #kise ryota #kise ryouta #kuroko no basket #knb fanfic #knb #request #i told you it was going to be cliché #i used to and still do love these kinds of fics #mean girl tropes are kind of bread and butter in fanfics °^

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woneuntonzz · 9 months ago

Text

competitive academic rival!eunseok x overachiever, afab!reader

“ started with a spark,¹ now we're on fire.² ” ; (2/2)

warning/s: cussing, violent thoughts

content: songfic, enemies to lovers, academic rivals, fluff, incy-wincy bit of angst, very lovey-dovey i'm actually attached, mention of other idol names for world building !!

wc: 7.4k!!

⋆⭒°｡⋆ i feel like we've made it pretty far, now we're stargazing ☄️ ; inspired by The Neighbourhood's Stargazing 🎶

It was a joke when Yunjin said Eunseok might take her place as your one and only best friend, but you figured there might be a slight truth to it. It wasn't that you'd dismiss Yunjin entirely, it's just that overtime, one instance of being project partners will become a sort of regimen for the two of you, him trailing behind you, calling out, “Partner, wait up!” as you walk to wherever you're headed.

You would still exchange playful banters —some not sounding very playful at all— and would still contest each other during class recitations, but it was all fair and square, unlike before where it'd be blood, sweat and tears, not in a literal sense of course.

“You should write this part. You're great at expressing your opinion.” This time, you two partnered up for statement writing —that supposedly was for a group of three.

“You really think so?” you tilted your head at him, jestful taunting hinted in your voice.

“Yeah. You're beautiful.”

You knew he wasn't finished speaking, but a part of you wished it had ended there.

“—your narrative I mean. If there's anything I'd like to correct, I'd say you take a little too long to get to the point, but overall your writing is great.” you nod, flailing away the lost hope in your eyes.

It's been three months since you've grown to treat each other like a friend. It was something your past selves would've never foreseen, like a switch had been accidentally turned on.

You wouldn't change a thing, though. Even if everything was only by chance, you wish it would stay till after highschool graduation, or, till all of your senses died out —till you were sure there was no way of seeing or hearing him ever again.

The thought was so unhinged for you at first, but denying is for underdogs, and you were no loser.

Considering the time you've spent with him, a big part of the blame is on him. Well how could you not blame him? when your conversations were at its tamest, he would resort to saying things that made you think more than when your history teacher would throw around riddles for you to figure out what he was trying to teach.

“You really like green? that's kind of gross.” you scoffed at his comment after he'd observe that most of the things you owned were of your favorite color.

You hold up your phone, showing the back of your fern-colored phone case. “It's fern. Maybe you're thinking about a gross shade of green —why does it matter to you anyways?”

“I just thought you'd like a different type of color, like blue.” he slightly shrugged, his eyes wandering to the keychain dangling at your bag's zipper.

“I like blue, but I see it all the time, everywhere, so my eyes are kind of tired of it at this point.” you gave him an innocent smile, one that would soon falter when he replied,

“You see me all the time, I hope you like me too.”

What kind of idiot says that? —you were determined not to emit much of a reaction, you feared it might be too much for the both of you, and that he might be just that friendly with those he considered friends. Of course I like you. —you weren't sure though, if it was only harmless feelings you'd have for a best friend, or if it was this almost electric sensation that made everything else around you fade away from the void of your mind as you isolate yourself with the thought of him.

After two weeks of somewhat careful reflecting, you realized that it was the latter.

He'd accept his feelings around the same time you did, but he most certainly caught it first. He'd tell himself that you never minded his incidental wording, not realizing just how bad he was at reading people. He just wouldn't catch the way your eyes would linger from where they last situated after he spoke because he was too afraid to look at you long enough to catch your reaction.

You were both so convinced that you did such a great job of hiding from each other, but the people around you could say otherwise.

Eunseok would start biting the inside of his cheek when Shotaro told him, “You know what you two remind me of? like a very, painfully slow basketball game.”

“Come again?” his friend laughs at him, poking fun at the confusion plastered on his face.

“She likes you too, I mean, why else would she stick around you and always be your partner?” The idea made him bite into his bottom lip, reminiscing about the way things used to be before the near fallout —the essay incident.

She's a people pleaser —but he couldn't just say that, and he knew you struggled with it too, he just wouldn't figure out why just yet. “She just finds it hard to say no to anyone.”

“Okay, partner.” Shotaro's teasing had him shaking his head.

It was something he wanted to help you with, saying no, taking care of yourself first. You kept giving and giving, it was something he never understood about you when he knew it's normal to be tired, angry, sad, and it's most certainly normal to refuse to save yourself from the anguish.

With you, he chose to be careful. He wanted you to be comfortable with him, to be ready when you finally him why you would always say yes to everyone, why you were so stubborn and so willing to give so much of your time and energy for the benefit of someone else who wouldn't even bat an eye if you got hit by a speeding truck.

It pained him to see you fake your keenness whenever Yuri, Ahra, or some other piece of shit chased after you in the hallway. They'd never directly say it, but they were basically asking you for their grades, all while you had to make sure yours were better than last quarter's results.

If you weren't taking care of yourself, he would, as much as his courage allowed him to.

The end of the school year was just right around the corner, you were busy all month preparing, elections for next year's student council were being held before the end of the year.

Eunseok was already a part of the student council, he was a public information officer, a very recognized one at that, but this time he was running for president.

He wanted you to run alongside him, as his vice president, but you were afraid that it was way beyond your limits. You have been a part of the student council before, the year he transferred in your school, you were a peace officer, but that's the farthest you've gone. You've lost elections the next year, and the current year, you lost the public information officer position to him.

Still, he was able to encourage you to run for secretary. And like he promised —though not verbally— he helped you throughout everything.

“I haven't gotten much sleep last night, sorry for drooling on your sleeve.” you lazily tried to wipe off the wet stain on his forearm that you had accidentally napped on whilst he explained something about initiatives, you couldn't quite recall.

He had actually stopped speaking when he saw the way you tried to fight your drowsiness. He felt bad for almost laughing, but the way your eyelids would shut itself and you forcing them open only to fail seconds later, he thought it was adorable.

“It's okay.” he moved his forearm, it was a signal to tell you to lie your head on it again. “You can rest.”

Your mind was still a bit hazy. You wiped your eyes and you would keep doing so, progressively becoming more forceful until he stopped you by taking ahold of your wrist. “Hey, stop, your eyes will hurt.”

He looked at them. He could almost feel your exhaustion, but even through it he could only see how lovely the color in your eyes were.

“Sorry, I was just up all night doing…” What did you do? oh, right,

“Someone else's work? don't be sorry. Give yourself a break, please.” you would lock eyes with him when he said please, his voice was pure silk, gliding through the very cracks of your soul, it almost made your eyes brim with tears.

The elections would roll around. You two would be inseparable by then, leading people to think you were running for vice president since he was with you more than he was with the actual running vice of your partylist. Even then, if they were being honest, they'd vote for the two of you. The pair of you were like a premium package in the market, two perfectly flawed individuals promoting your ambitions to the whole school.

Your confidence flourished like never before, and the stutter you always had when speaking, you were way past it. You received so much support and encouragement, not only from him, but also from your best friend Yunjin who ran for vice president and other candidates in your partylist.

You were happy with how everything was turning out, and so was he. He was confident you'd get the spot, not even caring any longer if he lost. He just wanted to see you succeed in something you've worked so hard to achieve for so long.

“I hope I get it this time. I've been beating myself up for not having enough confidence to get myself into bigger opportunities.” he heard you say to Yunjin when you were all getting ready to go home.

He didn't need to say anything because your friend was already there to assure you, but his stare was enough to tell you that he cared. He wanted you to know that he believed in you, more than you believe in yourself.

The sequel to your odyssey wouldn't be announced till the next school year began, but until then, you two would keep contact. It would start off with him popping up in your notifications with a little, hey how r u —which would shortly be followed by, it's eunseok btw.

yeah ik it's u —you laughed quietly to yourself, legs against your chest as you got comfy on your living room sofa. i alr have u saved in my contacts.

he would immediately reply, oh right

—lmao

You would subconsciously pucker your lips as you typed, whats up?

the sky? —you physically cringed at his reply, funny for being so unfunny.

bro? 😭

bro…

idk it's been two weeks

since school ended?

yeah

and it'll only take like less than a month till we're back

but suffering is for the weak 💪

right 💪

kinda miss it too

props to u for missing school ig

i meant to say you

lmao

It was normal to say things like that to your friends, you and Yunjin say it to each other when you reunite after a considerably long time of not seeing each other, so, this must be… normal, right?

that's oddly sweet of u

hbu?

same

it's not the same w/o ur annoying ass

annoying or not

i know u love my ass

eww????

Maybe not his ass.

You two would go on with your little convos every other day, that would soon turn into everyday, to every other hour, into phone calls.

would it be weird if i asked to call rn

why

u wanna?

yea

feeling lazy to type jus saying

call me then

You thought maybe you sounded too sure of yourself than you actually were, cause when he called, you fumbled, trying to fix yourself before you answered —it was pointless since it was an audio call and he won't even be able to see the pillow lining marked on your face from laying down for so long as you chatted with him.

He also had no reason to feel lazy at all, in fact the only activity he'd been up to is on his phone, talking to you. He just wanted to hear from you again, because at that point you two still had sixteen days left before you got to see each other again.

“Y/n” he spoke as soon as you picked up.

“Eunseok.” you said back, imitating his tone.

“The voting results are out, I'm looking at it right now, on my laptop.” you could almost hear him gulp before he spoke again. “We got it.”

You yelped, but rushed to cover your mouth. “Shit, is that for real?”

“Yep. It's for real alright.” his smile was wide, like the one he wore when you finally accepted his offer to be his project partner.

“Oh my fucking —thank you Seok. I love you, I love you guys so much, holy shit.” his eyes were wide open as he listened to your celebratory exclamations.

You loved him? He knew it was your utter excitement speaking, but deep down he just wished he could hear it again, just those three precious words.

──────────﹒★﹒﹒──﹒﹒★﹒──────────

Time flew by, but not like how it usually would. This time it actually seemed to be a little slower. Maybe it was because you spent the majority of your break talking to him, which you didn't even think was possible. What was even there for the two of you to talk about outside of school? you two had never gone below surface level conversations, then suddenly he was approaching you in school all smiley while holding a cup of iced coffee?

“Drink up Sleepy, my favorite dwarf.” he sounded so sweet, but it was a tease.

Suddenly your height became a topic of discussion, comparing you to one of Snow White's seven dwarfs, and he'd pinpoint the one who was most like you. Sleepy, always sleepy —and also pretty small. You weren't even that small, he was just a bit —no, he was a total tease. You'd mention it was your dad's genes, then it would turn into you telling him that you and your dad weren't really close at all.

It was a drastic shift, but he learned to appreciate the trust you've granted him by telling him those things, and he would find out about the emotional neglect that went unnoticed by you yourself.

You carefully took the cup from his hand, and with a smile you said, “Thank you, Seok.”

If back then he hid his emotions from you and everyone else, now he had his smile on full display, facing its very cause, you. He had learned how to read you now, and he knew he was getting somewhere when your voice had started to soften at certain times. Your voice that was usually dominant, almost sounding demanding in a way, he would be one of the few who would hear it completely disappear, and taking its place would be a sound he could only describe as his sweetest dreams.

Hearing you speak again in face to face for the first time after a while felt unreal almost, he felt ecstatic from your voice alone, so much so that he almost forgot that he was to be announced as student council president that day.

During orientation, you would be declared as student council secretary, and he's the president —the president who stood next to you instead of his designated place, next to the vice president. Yunjin stood where he was supposed to be, you noticed and whispered to him, “Hey, go back to your position.” but he'd just chuckle at your furrowed eyebrows. “Seok?”

His gaze was fixated on you, and it was like the whole world stopped for the two of you. “Hmm?”

“Congratulations, and, thank you. I really owe you one.” he chuckled again, and all you could see was him.

“You don't owe me anything, but thank you for trusting me, congrats Sleepy.” his smile caused your mind to almost lose itself, eyes wandering down to the glint on his lips.

Suddenly you wondered if they would feel as soft as the words he had spoken to you. You were ashamed that you would think that about your best friend, but he was thinking the same thing, eyes fixated on your velvet lips.

Nothing would come out of it, for fact, it would be as if nothing ever happened. But you both knew, the way you looked at each other was different. Heck, you could never even spare anyone else a second of eye contact. At that point, you two knew each other well enough, as opponents, and eventually as close friends. Now he just had to figure out how to know you as his lover.

──────────﹒★﹒﹒──﹒﹒★﹒──────────

The two of you would be busy as ever and being together in those situations served as a perk, for even with the urge to just throw away your paperwork and drop out of school, you were able to continue with each other's motivation, each other's smiles, each other's voices.

—each other's touch. “Are your hands okay?”

He eyed your fingers that had green guard bandages on them. You've been writing a lot, not only for being a secretary, but also for the ridiculous amount of school work you had piled up and had to finish before the end of the week.

He was hesitant, but you kept yourself busy and it gave him a push to just go for it. Moments later, your writing would be interrupted as a hand reached out for yours.

“Rest for a while. We have plenty of time before the next period.” was all he said as he enclosed your hand in his grasp.

His touch felt warm, relieving you of the pain and the pressure everything's been giving you lately. When he moved his thumb against your skin, you just wanted to drag him with you and run away from everything and everyone.

Realization would only hit you when from a distance, you saw a few of your classmates looking at the two of you, then whispering to each other.

“Hey Y/n, I hope you're not too busy—”

“What?” Ahra had approached again, but this time Eunseok answered for you.

“Oh, I just needed help with the gen bio activity.” she eyed your linked hands.

“Right, just give me your paper, I'll sort it out for you.” Ahra handed you her activity sheet, but it was Eunseok who'd snatch it from her hand and retort,

“You people can't do anything for yourselves? Jesus.” he had an ill-tempered glare that he kept on the paper he held, but he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “If you need it so badly, I'll do It. Fifty bucks.”

“But I don't have fifty bucks on me right n—”

“Then go find someone else to pester.” he says as he hands Ahra's paper back to her.

Ahra takes it and walks away in shame, and spite. Why did he have to be there to ruin everything?

You were worried Ahra would be up to speaking ill of you to others like past classmates have done to you before, but he reassured you.

“They don't have to matter, besides, you're not obligated to take responsibility for their own.” just think about you and I —he finishes his words in his mind, not afraid to admit, but afraid to say it.

Even if he didn't say it, you were already thinking it. Because why would anything else matter when you had him and he had you. The summit of your dreams used to be these superficial things, and now it would be a future, a future of a better life, living off of pure contentment and bliss. A future together.

It would all remain unsaid, but you could feel it with each other.

Through him, you would learn to say no without much thought of the consequences all you had to think about is his fond eyes greeting you once you've successfully overcome your struggles.

And through you, he learned to be more open and considerate. He would finally see things from others' perspectives, helping him understand what he needed to do as the president of the student council, and as your…

Well, what was he to you? What were you to each other?

The label would be unclear to everyone, and to you both, but you were sure that you had something. You shared the same feelings and the same longing whenever your time with each other was cut short.

It was almost as if your only reason to go to keep attending school was to see each other and be with each other. It was easier to stick around with one another since you were both major parts of the student council, so when people asked if you two had a thing, there was only one answer.

“Well, we run the student council.” and apparently you ran in each other's minds too.

sleepy

don't force yourself to go to school tmrw ok?

but there's literally a presentation

and?

if u present with a stuffy nose and phlegm in your throat would that be any better?

no…

good

u better rest and not tire urself with ANYTHING else

oki

thanks seok :>

miss u alr lol

u know i miss u more

it's so hard to bear with these ppl without u around

see? this is why i need to go to school...

hell no

get ur ass some rest

i'll see u when u feel better <33

It was usually you who would be too sick to go to school, and he quickly picked up on your routine of going to school with allergies that'll turn into a fever by the end of the day, and you would be out of school for a day or two, and he'd always make sure to check in on you through messages or calls.

Soon enough though, he'd show up outside your house. It was a risky move, but he was always lucky enough that your parents weren't around to see him.

“You're really outside my house? Are you crazy?” you sneezed into your phone right after you spoke.

You heard his sweet chuckle from the other line. “Yeah, cutie. I have something for you, can you go down? or is there a way for me to get in? Is it through the doggy door or your bedroom window?”

Your laughter was weak due to the phlegm in your body. “Wait, wait, I'll open the door for you.”

Somehow, the thought of seeing him gave you enough energy to rush down the stairs to welcome him.

You ended the call on your phone as you opened the door, and there he was. “Hey Sleepy, looking real groggy there.”

A playful glare made its way onto your face, and he'd laugh loud enough for you to hear despite the distance.

“Can I come in?” of course you let him in.

He had about two hours before your parents came back. He got you food, very warm and comforting seaweed soup and a cup of warm lemon tea.

He watched you eat a couple bites, very slowly and feebly. He grew worried about the way you struggled with just holding the spoon up to your mouth. “May I?”

Honestly, why'd he even ask? he would do it anyway even if you refused —in this case you weren't even able to utter a reply. He takes the spoon, and feeds you, being very gentle, even wiping away some stray soup from the corners or your lips and your chin.

Luckily, you weren't too sick to miss his enamored eyes and for a moment he'd stop feeding you, wiping your bottom lip, allowing his gaze on it linger. Flustered, you'd bite down on it with the strength you had.

He chuckles, looking down for a brief moment. “You're so adorable.” —and a soft pinch to your cheek.

──────────﹒★﹒﹒──﹒﹒★﹒──────────

Your final year in highschool has finally ended. Elation coursed throughout your body when you received your medal as salutatorian, and of course, he was your valedictorian.

All those years he thought he was graduating with not much to look forward to. It was life, he graduates, and graduates again, then he'd be out making big contributions to the economy. But now, you would be in his list of aspirations, because at that point, none of you have ever thought of confessing, but still looked in each other's eyes like they were the only ones that existed.

The day of your graduation, he'd run to you —which startled you a bit— and carry you by your sides, spinning you once before settling you back down again. All you could hear was each other's laughter, and he'd engulf you in his embrace.

“We've made it pretty far.” —and you both wanted to go further, further from what you already had, a reassurance, a settlement.

You two would keep constant contact the whole time you prepared yourselves for college. It could be a miracle, or maybe it was truly meant to be —you two got into your dream university.

In all honesty, he never had a dream university. He'd only have one when he heard it from you. “Yonsei seems like a great university.” —his dream will always and only lie with you.

You spent your days talking, daydreaming about college life. You both knew it wasn't something to daydream about since it would only get harder from then, but it was driven by the thought that all this time, you would still be together. Still, none of you would outrightly say it.

“Imagine we'd get forced to drink with our seniors.” you let your phone lay close to your head on your bed as you spoke to him on call.

And to that he replied, “I'd never let that happen.”

You laughed, and it was the most beautiful song he's ever heard. He ended up laughing with you.

“I'm serious.” he adds, still laughing.

“I know, Seok. I know.”

The time would come eventually. You two would be in two different departments —he was in computer science— but fortunately, your seniors seemed to only know one place where they could pressure the freshmen to their favor.

Eunseok walks up to the table where you're at, you two have had your eyes on each other ever since you've step foot in that place.

He held onto the strap of his shoulder bag, looking into your honeyed eyes. “Let's go home.”

Everyone had their eyes on him, then on you. “Woah, woah, and who's this pretty boy? Why are you cutting our Y/n's fun so short in the night huh?”

“Y/n doesn't drink.” your seniors looked at you and you nod, keeping your eyes on him.

You extend your hand out to him, and soon you would feel sanctuary.

No other words were said as he pulled you along with him to the exit, not minding to spare the others another look. His hand still held onto yours as he walked you back to your dorm room. You were both quiet the entire time, your social batteries drained to its very limits from the orientation activities and the higher-ups pressuring the both of you to join them waste away.

Before completely letting go of you, you would both stop in front of your door, facing each other.

“See, I told you so.” you laughed at his playful jabbing.

“Okay, my firefighter. Thank you for saving me.” his eyes wandered down to your lips once again, but they would shift back up to your forehead.

He wipes the bit of sweat on it with his thumb, letting his palm slowly glide down and rest on your cheek.

“I said no, you know, but they kept insisting I come with them.” his hand went from your cheek to your chin, gently taking a hold of it.

“I know Sleepy. It's alright. It happened to me too.”

You wondered what would happen next. The tension had only grown stronger, it was only the two of you in that hallway, it was you, him and the desire dispersed throughout the silence of the halls —but nothing was salvaged from it. The looks in your eyes yearned for the feeling of each other's lips, but he held back.

His hands cupped your face, slightly squishing your cheeks together. “You kinda look like Keroppi.” a bittersweet chuckle leaves his mouth. “Good night, Y/n.”

Before he could walk away, your embrace would stop him, and he'd hug back, almost not wanting to ever let go. His hand wandered to the back of your head, gently caressing your hair.

“Good night Seok.”

That night was definitely one to remember, one that made you realize, he's always loved Keroppi, does that mean he loves me too? —maybe you were taking it too far, but it wasn't impossible. You saw it, you felt it, his amore through the feeling of his skin against yours.

Every moment you've shared with him felt like a push, just say it, just do it, but none of you would budge.

Your best friend Yunjin was in the same department as him, she didn't see you as often as he would, but when she did, she wanted to just push your faces into each other, just kiss already —she'd think to herself as she observed the two of you just being so lost in each other.

At one point you'd feel bad for not spending as much time as you used to with her, but after talking to her about it, she reassured you that she wasn't an obligation for you to worry about, but she'd always be there when you needed her, and of course you would be there for her too.

You thought you were lucky that both of your favorite people were in the same department, shared the same classes, that way it was easier for you to see them and hang out simultaneously.

Doubt would start swimming around the oceans of your thoughts —one day you were set to meet them in the campus library. Your pace was a bit speedy, wearing such a gleeful smile, you walked to meet them again after the longest week of your life. The campus library was huge, but it wouldn't take you a while to spot them.

Your first instinct was to run up to them, but maybe it was your exhaustion that had stopped you from doing so and instead just stand there for a while, watching them laugh together from a distance, and they would get so close to each other that your breath almost hitched.

You felt insecure, but also hated yourself for even allowing these feelings to surge. They're also good friends, your best friends, you were more fond of one of them for sure, but you both loved and cared for them just as much.

Your worries would subside once you were finally seated next to him. Your eyes lingered on each other's allure, it was quite clear that you two had this certain look reserved for each other.

“Oh, look. The project partners are back again.” —your harmonious laughter would fill your ears.

At first it came easy, but then it wasn't.

Being in different departments meant seeing them from afar walking side by side, and you would find that they would be together a lot more than before.

When they'd meet with you, they were together, almost all the time. At first you thought, it was easier that way for them, and for you especially.

Then love month came around. Everyone was busy preparing booths for the Feb Fair celebration. It was three days long, and everyone wanted it to be perfect, single or not, it was three days of just love, love for friends, family, for him.

Just a few days before Feb Fair started, despite your efforts of searching for him everywhere you could, sadly, your efforts would be futile.

hi seok

been looking for u everywhere

u busy? —delivered, 4 hours ago.

sorry

shit sorry

i am kinda busy

but not like usual

it's for something vv special :))

that's nice

you have any plans for feb fair?

anyone asked u out yet?

even if anyone did i would reject them lol

would u reject me then? —read, 10 minutes ago.

it's okay roppi lmaooo

tbh i'd say yes w/o u even asking

really?

so it's settled then?

you got it :3

shit

i got the prettiest date for feb fair 🙈

You seemed to have forgotten about the roots of your agitations once you've gotten a chance to talk with him again.

You made sure you would look the prettiest when you were with him. You wore a blue dress, he never said it was his favorite, but you did see it quite often in the items he owned, and some in his wardrobe.

But maybe you should've gone for green. The first day of Feb Fair, entering the area of festivities, a band playing some overrated love song would serve as soft background music for everyone else indulged in the love, it's in the air as they'd claim.

Maybe this would be the day, the day you would finally admit to each other's feelings, confess.

You walked around, taking in the luminous fairy lights, and the fake flowers that accompanied them. Even if they were artificial, they were still really pretty, and you would be the living depiction of those flowers, your dress flowing with the cool breeze as your eyes glimmered with the stars.

When he saw you, his whole world stopped. You were suddenly the only one he could see. He wished he was quick enough to rush over to you, hold your hand, but you were gone, like the wind.

You had seen him handing over a bouquet to your best friend —Yunjin, and at that moment you thought she looked so perfect that you thought your presence was unwanted.

Maybe it was a mistake, maybe he didn't mean it at all. Maybe you were only meant to be a bridge for them.

That night, you would lock yourself in your room, ignoring the calls and messages in your phone and your own roomate. You just kept yourself under your covers.

“Hey, um, Y/n, Eunseok's outside.”

“Please tell him to go away.” you cried out.

And your roommate would do just that. His heart would sink, but it was a lot worse compared to when you had first rejected his efforts of asking you as his project partner.

It was like the past all over again. There you cried all alone, then, it used to be because of an essay and his egocentric self, now it was because of a bouquet, and his fleeting promise.

He just hoped he could talk to you again.

y/n it wasn't what you thought it was

i'll explain to you when we meet again

please

i'm sorry

i'll wait for you by the water fountain tomorrow —delivered, 10 hours ago.

be my partner, please? —delivered, 30 minutes ago.

It was the second day of the Feb Fair. You were still isolating yourself in your room. You wondered where they could be. You still hadn't opened your phone so you thought, maybe they're together, like they always were.

You hopelessly sat on your bed, munching on some snacks. Suddenly it would hit you that all the food you had in your pantry was from him. Holding back your tears, you would let the packet of gummy worms fall down on your bed, with you feeling defeated.

Feeling like you needed to move, you got up from your bed, weakly opening your closet.

I should've worn the green dress. —unlike the blue one, it was more casual, and the most important detail of all, it had a cute little frog on the right chest area. You let your finger trace the frog imprint, almost tearing up again.

Closing your closet, you turned around, ready to plop yourself back down onto your bed, but your phone lit up again.

maybe tomorrow? :)) —read, 4 minutes ago.

When he saw that you had read his message, he wore a hopeful smile. Maybe, just maybe, you'd show up the next day, or maybe in the night. He promised that this time, he won't skimp on his words, he was going to tell you everything.

It was already dark, nearing 9:00 pm when he had messaged you. You were admittedly worried and guilty for making him wait till that time of the night.

Reading through his messages again, you knew you needed to show up. Because you trusted him. Trust, you almost forgot. You have given him so much of it.

The next day, you got up relatively early, at least earlier than your roommate. She'd wake up to you already dolled up.

“That's a cute dress.” she said, she had her hands against her sides, looking around for a while before asking, “Um, if you don't mind, are you and Eunseok… okay now?”

“We'll be alright.” the tiredness in your voice was still evident, and so your roommate would just give you a smile, nodding as she left to go to the bathroom.

You were going to make it right. This was the final push, you would finally tell him how you've felt about him, from the very start of it all up to now when you longed for him.

Still at the water fountain, Eunseok sat there anxiously. He sat there, and in his hand was a box. It was all, and everything he had kept of you, and if ever he lost you —and he prays to God it would never happen— he'd have your memories in this box, his most cherished ones.

6:00 pm, his eyes grew a thin layer of water as he watched everyone else with such loving eyes and sugared laughter. He looked up at the sky, and he thanked it for being so full for that night, full of glittering stars. He took it as a sign that you would come soon, because last night there were no stars at all, and you didn't arrive.

“I'll be your partner.”

He froze in his spot, stare still fixated on the constellations above him.

He stood up, bringing his gaze down to you. You eyed the box he held with both his hands, “Y/n.”

Your eyes lit up, hearing his voice emit your name very faintly. You let him walk closer to you, just enough for you to see his eyes glisten against the fairy lights.

“The flowers, well, I helped Yunjin look for them. They were meant to be for someone else, she won't tell me who. I'm guessing it might be Chaewon since she kept asking me about her, if you remember, Chaewon's my cousin.” —well shit. Isn't it just so easy to be stupid?

“Sorry.” he hurriedly used one of his hands, hesitantly reaching out for the one he's been dying to hold since the day he thought he'd lose you, for the second time.

“Don't be sorry. Please. I should've…” he glanced down at your entwined hands, your hand was cold. “... just told you that…”

Again, he'd struggle to find his words and you'd bring your hand up to his cheek, “Seok?”

“I like you and I think I'm in love with you —no, I am. I…” he was almost breathless, and you'd gently move his head to meet his soft eyes.

“Song Eunseok, I want to be your partner, in the long run, and maybe, till I can no longer write essays and make grammatical errors, will you be my partner —for life?”

Eunseok had always dreamed of going to space and seeing the shimmering little specks of wonder up-close. He knew they were just fiery rocks, but unlike him, who others would describe as still and emotionless, these rocks shined, and they were beautiful. You are so beautiful. He'd finally have a star to himself. His dreams, driven by his childhood imaginations, were coming true, in the form of you.

Finally, he would lean in, finally feeling your plush lips against his. You're as sweet as he imagined.

“Till I can no longer correct you, I'll be your partner.” he uttered against your lips.

Later that night, you two would be seated on the ground, leaning your backs against the base of the water fountain —he'd let you use his arm as a cushion for your back, well, he insisted. The fireworks had already died down, and you two were still there.

You were going through the box he had prepared for you.

“You kept this?” It was the essay, the nameless copy.

“Yeah, but look, look.”

He had written stuff all over it, and drew a bunch of Keroppis. And he had checked it like how your English teacher back then would, with one singular correction where he wrote, you missed a word miss know-it-all, doesn't matter though, i miss you more.

“When did you do this?” he watched fondly as you chuckled, reading through his little notes and doodles.

“I checked that essay the day you rejected my 'partner proposal' for the second time.” you looked at him wide-eyed.

“You… missed me then?”

“Yes?”

Then you'd see receipts of every breakfast coffee, every ice cream meeting —you never called it a date because you were just being professional, every candy packet and every wet wipe purchase he had ever made for you, all stapled together with little tmi's on them, y/n really likes green. i should buy more green shirts.

You chortled. “Don't laugh!”

“No! I just think it's really cute!”

wait holy shit, i wish i could draw well THE WAY SHE SMILED AT ME. i won. fuck everyone.

“You've liked me for that long?” looking into his eyes again, you'd melt into his loving stare.

He had been watching you smile through his sweet little shenanigans that you never would've thought he'd been up to this time. “Yes, I have.”

You bit your bottom lip, still your smile showed through it. With a gulp, you'd place a quick kiss on his lips, making him freeze once again.

With an innocent smile, you went back to rummaging through the box. “Wait, this was my favorite pen. You hid it?”

“I've been using it around you ever since I got it, I thought you'd notice.”

“I just thought you used the same brand. Shame on you, thief.”

You would laugh together for the rest of the night, reminiscing about the past, how you both hid your painfully obvious liking for each other, and then a moment of silence.

You admired the array of stars that shined throughout the body of the sky as you laid your head on his shoulder, his hand holding yours like it was its only purpose.

“Thank God Yuri plagiarized your essay.”

You playfully hit his knee, laughing out, “What do you mean?”

“Just imagine, If I never realized my feelings for you, I'd never make an effort to ask you as my project partner, and we'd stay the same, me still a jerk, and you…”

“Still saying yes to everyone? Well, that makes sense, but, what if we're really meant to end up where we are now?”

“We are meant to be, aren't we?” You felt him place a kiss on your head. “So, what's your opinion on officially being my girlfriend?”

You sat up, startling him a bit, but he'd chuckle once he saw the cheeky grin on your face. “You know how you've always taught me how to say no?”

You giggled when you saw his smile diminish.

“Well, you're no idiotic low-life, so yes, Eunseok, I'll be your girlfriend.” he leans in and hugs you, and you both fall over. “Wait what the fuck.”

“Sorry, sorry.” he helped you get up.

You would get lost in each other's eyes again, and eventually your lips were linked once more. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands on your waist. You pulled away, and you'd laugh at each other's breathless states.

“I honestly don't know why you still asked me to be your girlfriend when I asked you to be my partner for life.”

“I'm an anxious man, okay? but I just really wanted to be sure, and I wanted to ask for myself, that was the initial plan anyways, I can't believe you ruined my plan.”

“Excuse me? you seem to sound so offended now.”

“So what if I am?”

The stars were once only a tiny glimpse of hope for him, now drew the two of you. First two very distant stars, one shone blue and the other shone red, the blue star almost died, but the red star gave some of her flame, and soon they would ignite the fire they would share.

She said yes, finally. —he knew you'd ignite his flame again, and with an unspoken promise to himself —and to you, he'd grow to love you more and more, every single day.

Fin.

would you like to go back?

> take me back

> no :)) (thank you for stargazing with me)

#riize #riize au #riize fanfic #briize #riize x reader #riize fluff #riize eunseok #song eunseok #riize imagines #Spotify #songfic

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