#toxic!ryujin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

petrichor-han · 11 months

Text

the city that never sleeps; choi beomgyu

PAIRING | beomgyu x fem!reader

CAST | choi beomgyu, choi yeonjun, yoo jimin (karina), mentions of choi soobin, yang jeongin (i.n), shin ryujin, lee heeseung, kim minjeong (winter)

WC | 28.2k

GENRE | angst, smut, childhood friends to lovers, friends to lovers, neighbor!au, boy next door!au, right person wrong time (sort of)

WARNINGS | explicit language, explicit smut & sexual content, infidelity, toxic relationship, verbal abuse, mc has a present mom and dad, vaping & smoking cigarettes, marijuana mentions

SYNOPSIS | SEQUEL TO IDLE TOWN! // it’s been ten years since you last saw choi beomgyu in the flesh, but a high school reunion prompts you and your fiancé, yeonjun, to return to your hometown one last time. unfortunately, it seems like old habits die hard, and the harder you try to stay away from beomgyu, the closer he seems to get.

A/N | i was not planning on a sequel but sometimes the heart wants what it wants and i just had to write this. idle town readers, welcome back, and if you haven’t read the prequel then it’s linked in both the synopsis above and next to my masterlist below. it’s not required to read part one, but it’s helpful and provides context.

request to be added to current and future taglists HERE!

listen to the playlist here!

MASTERLIST | IDLE TOWN (PT. 1)

TEN YEARS LATER.

The day that you receive the envelope in the mail was the day that everything started going downhill. Now that you think about it, when was your peak? Was it as soon as you stepped foot in the city you’d always dreamed of living in? Was it when you met Yeonjun? Was it when you started working at that publishing company with amazing pay and benefits?

All in all, you’re not really sure. But if you had to pick a simple “best moment,” it would probably be your college graduation.

It was the perfect summer day. You’d aced your last semester of classes and had numerous colorful cords around your neck, showing off your accomplishments from the past four years. You sat between two people that you were semi-close with now, what with being almost forced to talk to them during rehearsals and all. They were alright, maybe you’d have even been friends with them in school if you met them earlier. Maybe being the key word. So instead, you sit between them, exchanging excited words in hushed whispers, making small talk, asking them what their plans are after the ceremony is over with. One of them invited the two of you to an end-of-school party that one of the frats is throwing; you had no clue about it. But as they explain the theme, saying that it’d be fun to end your last year with a typical college party—something that you’d probably never get the chance to do again—you start thinking, why not? What do you have to lose?

The ceremony itself is great. Nothing goes wrong, even though in these sorts of situations you always expect something to go awry. It doesn’t start raining, no one trips or messes up their words, the speeches aren’t too dull (as far as graduation speeches go), and the cheers for you as you walk across the stage are almost deafening. You can’t help the wide, almost cocky grin that spreads across your face as you turn to the crowd and wave once towards the area you know your loved ones are sitting in, spotting Yeonjun’s pink hair right away. He sticks out like a sore thumb, almost neon in the bright sunlight in comparison to the people around him. You hear his voice rise up above everyone else’s cheers, yelling your name amongst praise and sweet words. It makes you blush, how he’s not afraid to say such sappy shit in front of your parents, in front of your friends—in front of your entire graduating class, really.

The rest of the ceremony goes by in a blur. You can’t stop smiling even if you’re a little clammy underneath your cords and robe and cap, and your grin grows even wider once you’re able to toss your cap in the air and then go find your loved ones.

You see Yeonjun first, parting the crowd like the Red Sea. It’s kind of impossible to not see him. That’s something you’ve always equally liked and disliked about him—he attracted attention wherever he went. And not always from those who were sexually attracted to him, though that was, admittedly, a large portion of the attention that he got. No, he emitted this glow when he walked into a room. There was something about him that demanded your attention, even if you were unwilling to give it up. It was partially his looks—god, was he stunning—but also, the charm that basically oozed from his pores. You’d never known anyone that didn’t like Yeonjun. Even if they were apprehensive at first, no one could resist his genuinity, his kind nature that collided with his sharp visuals that sometimes made him come off as the cold or arrogant sort of attractive. But of course, no one ever thought of him as cold or arrogant as soon as he opened his mouth.

You liked this about him because it was easy. Everyone loved him: your friends, your classmates, and most importantly, your family. “He’s such a catch,” your friend Yeji said jealously, eyeing him as he walked away after dropping off lunch for you. “I wish I had a partner that would bring me a homemade meal.”

“And he drove half an hour to get here,” you bragged playfully, shaking your little dosirak full of food, still warm to the touch.

When he met your parents, your mother waited until he left the room before nudging you and smiling. “That’s a keeper,” she said happily, “I couldn’t think of anyone better for you.” The only issue with this was the fact that you noticed her stumble over the second part of that sentence, and it made you think of someone that you hadn’t bothered to think about in years.

But when Yeonjun was there, any semblance of thought towards that someone melted away almost immediately.

You run into his arms, almost crushing the massive bouquet of flowers that he’s holding gently. He holds it above the both of you with one hand and catches you in a tight embrace in the other, laughing and trying to speak through his giggles to congratulate you. “You are the most wonderful person in the world,” he says astutely, caressing your face gently as you part. Before you can get too far, he brings you back in to kiss you softly, his hand dropping to the small of your back to bring your body closer to his. Once he lets you go, he hands you the colorful bouquet that you almost squished. It’s beautiful. The entire thing is so heavy, full of flowers that are almost as big as your head. It hides the bottom half of your face as you hold it in front of your body and he laughs, pinching your cheek and calling you cute before everyone else arrives to congratulate you.

Is it selfish of you to think of that as your peak? Why do you consider it so? Your immediate answer to that is because of how you felt, how happy you were. You were so happy that you had no more room for any other emotion, save for perhaps excitement—but even that bled into happiness, blurring the lines between which was which. But maybe you think of that as your peak because of your achievements—no, that’s not it. You’ve achieved much more since then. Then the last conclusion, and the one that you dreaded to consider, must be correct. You consider it your peak because of everyone else’s reactions. They celebrated you that day, they all paid attention to you and how much shit that you’d done in those four years. And to be fair, it was a well deserved celebration—you worked your ass off in your undergrad years, so much so that sometimes Yeonjun would have to physically stop you from pushing yourself before you collapsed from exhaustion.

Your other option for your peak in life isn’t a singular moment. But it’s happier than considering yourself to peak in college. You consider your life as a whole since you moved out of your parents’ house to be your peak. That time frame between getting on the airplane to New York City and receiving that letter in the mail, that was your peak.

It has been ten years since you left your hometown far behind when you pull that letter out from between a catalog for lacy underwear and your electricity bill, and promptly spit your coffee all over your dinner table.

The address is from your home state, your hometown. It’s the address of your high school, and sure as hell, that’s your full name written across the front of the envelope. The stamp in the corner is of the school mascot—well, the same animal as your school mascot, anyways.

Hands shaking, you wipe your mouth quickly and then use a butter knife to cut a slit in the envelope. A single piece of dense paper slides smoothly into your palm, and you gnaw on your lip until you taste blood as you read through it, eyes following the dark print, chasing it as it registers in your brain. You swear you can feel your tongue dry and your heartbeat slow as the words “HIGH SCHOOL REUNION” echo in your head. You toss the invitation back on top of the opened envelope and busy yourself with wiping up your mess of spewed coffee.

Of course, this is when Yeonjun comes back.

You hadn’t expected him to be gone long; he’d just stopped by the local bagel place to get some fresh breakfast to pair with your coffee (though your cup is now half gone, spat across your dinner table).

“What’s wrong?” he asks immediately.

That’s another thing about Yeonjun—he can read you like an open book. It’s a little annoying at times, when you want to keep certain things private or hide surprises from him, but most of the time you appreciate his intuitiveness.

You don’t say anything, but point towards the invitation that’s still on full display, laying on top of the envelope it came in. Yeonjun kicks off his shoes and sets the box of bagels on the kitchen counter before walking over to you. He kisses you on the temple and picks up the invitation, leaning against the table as he scans it. Sucking in a deep breath through his teeth, he taps the thick piece of cardstock against the solid wooden surface of the dinner table and looks at you, concern clear in his eyes. He takes in your ashen face, bloodless and unsure.

“Well,” he says, “are you going to go?”

You groan loudly and slump forward in your chair, your forehead colliding with the table with a resounding clunk. Yeonjun coos, babying you like he knows you want him to, and drapes his slim frame over your back. His weight is a welcome comfort, like your very own weighted blanket.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. Your voice is muffled, but he understands.

“If it’s stressing you out this much already, then…” he trails off, but you already know that he’s going to suggest not going. For some reason, this pisses you off a little and you nudge him off of you and pick up your head, scowling at him.

“What if I want to go?” you ask, frowning.

“Then go, of course,” he says, walking back into the kitchen to retrieve the bagels. His voice echoes through the hallway, preceding his physical return to you. “I just assumed that you didn’t want to because—“

“Because of Beomgyu,” you finish for him.

Yeonjun stops, freezing up at the sound of his name. You do too. It’s like you’ve been literally frozen—you feel so unbearably cold, and you can’t move an inch even though you’re the one that said it in the first place.

“I was going to say because of your reaction to the invitation,” Yeonjun says carefully. He still does not finish his route back to you. Instead, he stands there, halfway between the kitchen and you, very still. In his slim fit dark pants and sweater, he almost blends into the background.

There’s an uncomfortable silence that settles between the two of you, making itself comfortable atop all the surfaces in your home. Outside, it begins to rain. The only sound is the scattered raindrops that are beginning to pit-a-pat against the roof of your apartment building and the tiny fire escape.

After what seems like an eternity of stunned silence—you’re both still so shocked that you even uttered his name—you clear your throat to break the ice and say, “Well, I probably won’t go anyways. I hate that town.”

“Right.”

You both resume your day as usual, but the air is different. You’re both much more reserved and careful with what you say, something that’s rare for Yeonjun, who usually likes to speak his mind even if it comes off as a bit brash sometimes.

The reunion is not discussed any further until the week of, when you slide two plane tickets across the dinner table to Yeonjun, the destination being your hometown.

“Come or don’t,” you say, “but it’ll be uneventful either way.”

“I know this means a lot to you even if you refuse to say it out loud,” Yeonjun says knowingly. “I’m not an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot, but you’re also unusually good at reading my mind,” you murmur. This prompts Yeonjun to crack a smile.

“Well, since you already bought me a ticket…”

“I can get a refund,” you retort, but he knows that it’s a lighthearted joke.

“Not a chance.” He snatches up the tickets and walks over to you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and holding the papers up to the light. “High school reunion, here we come.”

—-

Maybe you should be more nervous.

Or maybe it just hasn’t kicked in yet.

Because the thing is, it’s not like you haven’t been back to your hometown at all since you left for college. You come home for certain holidays, for special days, for celebrations or times of mourning.

So far, it feels like another one of those times.

In your head, it’s just like you’re going home for Christmas, or for your mother’s birthday. Nothing has been really different just yet, so it has yet to hit you.

It’s only once you’re back in your childhood bedroom, with Yeonjun standing next to you, that you begin to feel uneasy. The only time you’d stayed in your childhood bedroom (after you’d moved out, of course) was for a long weekend during Christmas a few years back. Every other time, Yeonjun had come with you, and the two of you stayed in a nearby hotel. This time, before you could book a room, your mother had called you and demanded that the two of you stay in your childhood home.

“Cancel your hotel room,” your mother said cheerfully, once you’d picked up her call.

“Why?” you asked, stifling a yawn and blinking your dry eyes simultaneously; she’d woken you up from a late afternoon nap. Golden sunshine was pouring into your bedroom like honey, splashing across the length of your shared king-sized bed. It was the first real sunshine to penetrate through the thicket of fog and storm clouds, the last lingering signs of spring before summer took over. The air was warm and heavy, scented heavily with the spices Yeonjun was using to cook dinner in the kitchen. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and of course this is why the smell of food was so strong. You sit up as your mother starts talking again, wrapping a soft throw blanket loosely around your shoulders. It’s only a few steps to the window, but your bare feet are quickly getting chilled from the hardwood floor as you peer out the window at the setting sun.

“You and Yeonjun can just come stay at the house,” your mother prompts, but her tone is a little off.

“You know I love our house, but it’s just too small for me and Jun to stay in my room,” you say, walking back over to sit down on the edge of the bed. “We sort of tried that one year at Chuseok, remember? We tapped out at around eleven after tossing and turning for like half an hour in that tiny bed.”

“I know, but still,” she says, trailing off.

You lean down to inspect a chip in your floor. “But still what, mom?”

“We’re selling the house,” she finally says. You freeze, heart skipping a beat as you lick your dry lips.

“You’re selling it?” you ask hoarsely.

“We can’t take care of it any more,” she explains, and you can hear the pity in her voice, sweet like cough syrup. “We’re going to move to a little complex a few towns over at the end of the month.”

“Oh, Woodbury?” you ask faintly, a flash of a memory of a Woodbury Apartments catalog sitting on your parents’ coffee table the last time you’d visited, around the winter holidays.

“We just thought that you might like to stay here for the last few weeks. We’re mostly cleaned up and starting to pack…”

Your head is swimming in the warmth of your bedroom, suddenly too hot for your taste. The blanket slides off of your shoulders as you mumble an excuse to your mother and hang up before she can even reply. You feel your phone buzzing in your hand and you know that your mother is texting you and asking if you’re alright, but you don’t answer her. You sit there until Yeonjun comes to get you for dinner, and once he sees your frail figure, shaking and clutching your phone to your chest, he scoops you into his arms and you listen to his heartbeat until the words come spilling from your lips.

You grimace, thinking back upon the memory of that phone call, as you yank the zipper on the side of your suitcase, trying to get out the bag that holds your toiletries. You packed it on top of all your clothes for easy access, for this reason exactly. The memory of your mother breaking the news to you wasn’t a good one, and the worst part was how stupid you felt for being upset about it at all. You were nearly thirty years old and you were having a breakdown over your parents selling their house?

“You grew up there, there’s a lot of memories. It makes perfect sense to feel the way you do right now,” Yeonjun had soothed, when you whimpered out your worries about sounding dumb. But you still felt shitty about feeling shitty.

But like you’d said before: nothing really felt different until you actually got back and you were unpacking in your childhood bedroom. You’d specifically asked your parents to leave it untouched so that you could pack things up yourself, and they obliged. Every other room in the house had been scrubbed clean and left simplistic, easy to clear out in just a few hours when the time came to leave for the last time.

Luckily, that wasn’t for a while yet.

First, you had to get through this damn reunion.

It took place the night after you landed, starting around eight thirty. You assumed that people would show up early, so you prepared yourself to arrive at crisp eight forty-five, just so that there was no chance of you being early nor late. You wanted to attract the least amount of attention possible from your old peers.

“If you don’t even want to see anyone, why did you decide to go?” your father asked sharply over dinner that night. A mixture of your annoyance, the tension in the room, and probably some of his pain medication for his back, was all building up. You watch through slightly narrowed eyes as your mother slips another few pills to him, a new wrinkle line appearing on her forehead. She’d tended to your father day and night since he fell off a ladder a few months ago. His tone made your head ache, and you sighed harshly—perhaps a bit too harshly, you realize, as you watch him flinch—before replying.

“I do want to see people,” you say, scowling into your dinner. Even though it’s delicious as always, prepared by your parents, you can’t seem to get much of it down before your stomach starts turning. You put down your utensil and rub your eyes, making your parents exchange an uneasy glance with an awkward Yeonjun. He didn’t really know what to do about the tension between you and your father, so he helplessly draped an arm over your hunched over frame and rubbed your shoulder comfortingly as he made a kind, somewhat pitiful expression towards your father. “It’s just that—I don’t want to see most of them, and I know that most of them haven’t ever left town. What if they ask me questions? What if they want to be friends? What if they expect something from me just because we were in the same class?”

“Woah there,” Yeonjun said, speaking up before either of your parents could offer a singular reassuring word. “Doll, if they didn’t care ten years ago, they probably won’t care now. At most you’ll get a few curious questions but it won’t be from a harmful place.”

“You weren’t there,” you glower at him, “you don’t get it.”

“Did something happen?” he asks, eyes widening. “I didn’t know… You never said anything about… Are you alright?” He stutters, trying to find the right thing to say to soothe you.

You kind of feel bad at this point, with both your parents and Yeonjun staring at you with the same concerned look written across their faces, the food in front of them untouched since the conversation started. You didn’t mean to be bitchy and bitter about it—after all, you were the one that chose to come back and go to the damned thing after all. But this was why you wanted to do it alone. As soon as it was over with, you imagined yourself returning to the playful, slightly more cheerful version of yourself that everyone knew and loved. You exhale loudly, then stand up. Your three loved ones mirror your actions, with Yeonjun straightening up to his full height beside you immediately, as if he could read your mind, and both your parents half-rising, mirroring out of pure empathy.

“I’m sorry,” you state, “I’ve just been stressed about this.” You want to say something more, give them more information about what the hell has been going on inside your head since it really clicked as you were standing there in your childhood bedroom, but your tongue feels glued to the roof of your mouth. Your jaw clenches and unclenches as the three of them stare you down, expecting more, but when they realize that is all you have to say, you watch your parents’ wrinkled faces deflate into a more relaxed expression. One that says, “my child has issues, but they’ll work through it themselves and there’s nothing we can do about it so let’s just stop freaking the fuck out.”

“It’s okay, sweetie.” Your mom says this solemnly.

When your eyes meet, you feel anger bubbling in your chest again. There is nothing but pity behind those old eyes. You know that your mom feels bad for you, her child that’s completely exiled from the hometown that they once lived in. The child that ran away to a big city and never came home again. The child that’s back home for the last time before they finally, really turn into an adult and let go of the last strings of childhood forever.

It settles, though, as she reaches over to place her cool, dry hand over yours. You look down, a little ashamed now that you’re calmer and can think clearer.

“I think I’m going to turn in early, so that I can… pack tomorrow before the reunion,” you explain, and your hand moves to pick up your dirty plate. Before you can lift it an inch off the table, your father swipes it from you and waves you and Yeonjun off.

“We got this. You two go get settled.”

You lock eyes with your father and you give him an appreciative nod. He smiles in return—yes, a sad one that is full of pity for you—and kisses you on the top of your head as he walks by you on his way to the kitchen.

You press your lips into a thin line, a slightly awkward silence emerging between the remaining people at the table. Your mother jumps up before anyone has the chance to attempt to rekindle the conversation, and brings both hers and Yeonjun’s dirty dishes to the kitchen, following your father and disappearing behind the cream wall of your dining area.

“I guess we’ll do what they say,” Yeonjun says, exhaling slowly and standing up. He pushes his chair in and tries to brush off imaginary dust from his place mat, and then looks to you for direction. Though he likes to take the lead, it seems that there is an exception when it comes to your childhood home.

You take the creaky stairs by two and slip around on the slick wooden floor, warped and smoothed down from years of sock hockey and communal use. Your childhood bedroom door is there at the end of the hallway like it always has been, illuminated by the ceiling light that’s clearly just been replaced by the sheer brightness of it. The door, which has faded crayon lines and your name in wooden letters, blue tacked to the wooden frame, is slightly ajar, just how you had left it when you went down to dinner.

The two of you sidle into the room, feeling a little claustrophobic. You spy an old purple bikini string overflowing out of one of your old dresser drawers, and your chest lurches a little as a memory of Beomgyu resurfaces. In the brief flash, Beomgyu is sitting in the middle of your bed, mud-caked high tops kicked off and laying on your shag rug. The browned laces are messy and askew, because of the haphazard way that Beomgyu had untied them messily and kicked them off carelessly. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and baggy, light colored jeans. His white socks have a hole on the left bottom and you can see pale flesh peeking through because of the way he’s laying, slumped onto his back with his feet sticking straight out in your direction. His hair is dark, long, and messy, with those white streaks that you loved so much. His brown eyes are twinkling in the dim yellow light, and just as he opens his mouth to say something to you you snap out of it.

When the image of Beomgyu dissipates completely, you realize that you’ve been staring at Yeonjun this whole time. His stature almost mirrors Beomgyu’s in the memory. But instead, Yeonjun is perched politely on the corner of your mattress, and his pointy-toed, shiny black boots are neatly lined up next to your teenage collection of shoes in your closet. Your own ankle boots had been kicked off and left in the middle of your old rug, just like the illusion of Beomgyu’s Vans had been. Yeonjun’s hair—it’s a mushroom-y shade of brown now, rather than pink—glows warmly in the light alongside his sharp, sparkling eyes, a stark contrast to Beomgyu’s midnight locks and rounded boba pearl eyes.

“Hey you,” Yeonjun teases, “where’d you go off to in Dreamland? I missed you for a few moments there.”

You realize that you’ve been fidgeting with your fingers this whole time, picking at your cuticles and peeling the surrounding skin. It’s a bad habit that tends to resurface when you’re stressed, and your fingertips burn now. You regret it, but it’s too late.

You chuckle. “Sorry, I got lost in my memories for a second.” You swallow hard, feeling choked up for some reason.

Yeonjun picks up on your watery voice and your inflamed fingers, and he smiles that goofy smile that always makes you feel soothed before he kisses your hands and starts rummaging for his own luggage to find a first aid kit. You let him baby you for a bit, jabbering over your wounds and gently rubbing in a medicated ointment to soothe the throbbing. He selects the worst wounds to bandage up, reassuring you that the other ones would be fine as long as you didn’t touch them again, but it was too late already. Your skin wouldn’t heal before tomorrow, and after that you hardly had a damn about anyone and what they thought of you. You mentally insult yourself for a moment before feeling weary, pushing Yeonjun away after he finished fixing your last finger but rewarding him with a long kiss.

He’s desperate for something more, for your attention to be solely on him. You again feel bad; your mind has been elsewhere for days now, and you know that Yeonjun can feel it.

So you relent even though you’re exhausted, and you kiss him with what you hope is passion, dragging your nails down the curve of his back to make him groan and pull you closer to him until your front halves are smushed together. Chest to chest, your bare breasts beneath your thin t-shirt brushing against his hard pecs, his groin grinding against yours. You wrap your legs around his slim waist, pulling him ephemerally closer, closer, closer. You suddenly desire him so much that it burns. It hurts in your chest and your stomach and your head and the burn can only be soothed by his touch. Slowly he pulls away from your lips though he feels intoxicated by them; if he could, he’d kiss them forever. He starts at your head, pressing light kisses to your forehead, nose, and lips. He lingers on your lips again, the feather light drag of flesh against flesh driving you insane when you were craving depraved, rough handling.

Maybe Yeonjun really did feel your desperation as you gasped aloud and clung to his frame. That faked passion in the beginning was so foolproof that you yourself feel victim to your own lying.

Yet, nothing more really happens that night. You both take off your clothes, locked in each other’s embrace, and you feel his hot mouth attaching itself to your neck, your chest, your clavicle. His wet tongue laves over the bruises he’s suckled onto your flesh, narrowed eyes looking up to you for approval. You stroke his hair, and the texture is even different from Beomgyu’s—you remember when he would lay his head in your lap during your sleepovers, and every now and then he’d shift and lock eyes with you, grinning foolishly like he always did. You didn’t realize how much you missed him until now, until you found yourself in a place that reeked of familiarity, that reeked of him. If you closed your eyes and tried hard enough, you think you could smell the cologne that he wore all those years ago. It’s musky, yet sharp, and he wore so much of it sometimes that you couldn’t ever hug him without your eyes watering and your nose wrinkling.

Yeonjun’s mouth parts from a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, a string of saliva from his lip connecting to your neck for just a moment longer before breaking. He places a soft, wet kiss on your lips, lingering there for just a little too long before he pulls away and smiles at you.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he says quietly. You fix your gaze on your fiancé, his face smooth and soft in the warm glow from your bedside lamp. That’s the only source of light in the room apart from the slivers of pale moonlight that are barely creeping in through a crack in your dusty butterfly patterned curtains.

“I know.” You place a kiss on his forehead, which he receives gratefully, happy to have your attention. At least, some of it. More than he’d been receiving recently.

“Do you want me to come with you tomorrow?” he asks, following you to the bathroom.

You clutch at the plastic bag holding your toothbrush and toothpaste, along with other toiletries. “Do you want to come?” you ask, as he closes the bathroom door behind him as he walks in. You turn on the faucet, wetting your toothbrush and squeezing a blob of mint green toothpaste onto the bristles. Yeonjun reaches over to turn off the water.

“Do you want me to come?” he asks. “It’s your high school reunion, and if you’re more comfortable going alone then I understand. But if you want me to come—especially because he might be there—I would love to.”

You accidentally jab yourself in the gums with the hard plastic of your toothbrush at the mention of Beomgyu. Even though he didn’t say the name aloud, you knew that was who he was referring to. You groan, spitting out the mixture of blood and foamy toothpaste into the sink as you turn the water back on and watch the mixture go down the drain. “I know I’ve made it seem like a really big deal,” you said, choosing your words carefully, as to not offend your somewhat hot headed fiancé, “but it’s really not. I think I was just overwhelmed because of all the memories here, and the fact that my parents are selling the house. But really Jun, it’s not that big of a deal. I’ll be there for an hour, max.”

“Then you’ll be back and we can finish packing,” he says promptly.

A warm feeling washes over your body at the way Yeonjun always used words like “we” and “us” constantly. It always made you feel like part of a team, like a relationship should be. Such a simple gesture made you feel so safe and loved.

“Yes,” you said, pinching his cheek playfully, “then we can finish packing, and my parents can sell the house and we can go home.”

Yeonjun grabs your hand and plants a kiss on the back of it, making you blush as you pull it away. “I can’t even brush my teeth in peace,” you tease.

“What can I say? If you’re gone for more than five minutes, I start to miss you too much.” Yeonjun winks before leaving you to finish washing up in peace, and you sigh softly as he closes the door. You look in the mirror, and you look tired even though you’ve yet to start packing at all. Really, it won’t be a big job. What’s more exhausting to think about is the reunion.

You can almost picture a devil and an angel on your shoulders as you stare at your reflection in the mirror as you pat in your skincare.

Listen to everyone else, the devil-you scolds. She scowls up at you. Why are you even going to the reunion? You could just skip it tomorrow and help your parents pack up the rest of the house. Your trip home won’t be a waste, and you’ll suffer less. It’s a win-win situation, she pressed.

Because she has to prove to her old classmates that she’s successful now! the angel on your other shoulder pipes up cheerfully. And isn’t it nice to see old friends anyways?

The devil scoffs. If she has to prove that she’s successful, is she really successful at all? And what old friends are you even talking about? She had Beomgyu, and that was all. There is zero point in going to this stupid reunion.

Maybe if we see Beomgyu again, he’ll fall in love with her again and she can live the life she always wondered if she could have if she’d just forgiven him—

You throw a fistful of water at the mirror, washing away the hallucinations. Your eyes are rounded and panicked, from the angel speaking your greatest fear aloud. You always told yourself that if you never thought about it again, it wasn’t real. You didn’t really think or care about it; it was just an intrusive thought.

Now, it was too real. Your angel spoke the truth.

You may not be in love with Choi Beomgyu, but you sure as hell have laid awake many nights wondering what would have happened if you did love him back.

Even more so, what would have happened if you’d never gone to New York in the first place, and stayed with him like he wanted you to.

—

“That’s the last box of books,” you wheeze.

Collapsing on top of a freshly sealed box filled with your dusty collection of Harry Potter books, you stare up at your ceiling. Yeonjun’s sweaty forehead appears in your line of vision, a playful expression on his pretty face. “Tired already?” he asks, pulling you up. You groan loudly as you get back on your feet, squeezing his hand tightly.

“The books are heavy,” you complain.

“That’s your fault for being such a nerd and having ten million books crammed into one room,” he retorts, wiping his brow with his forearm. “But enough of that. We’re done with it now.”

You sit down on the floor, which is bare now. The first thing you two had done was roll up your old flower-patterned rug and take it down to the main floor so that the movers could easily pick it up with the rest of your parents’ stuff once they arrived early next week. A half empty bottle of water sits next to you, and you reach for it and chug the remaining liquid. A bead of sweat rolls down your temple and collects in the collar of your dusty t-shirt.

“We did a lot for just one day,” you praise, as you look up at your newly empty shelves. “It already looks so much emptier in here.”

“It really does,” Yeonjun says, sitting beside you and squinting at the empty bookshelves.

You pick up your phone, and your eyes widen at the time. You wanted to give yourself enough time to get ready without rushing and stressing yourself out further.

“You better get going,” Yeonjun said, noting your reaction to the time. “Don’t want to be late.”

“I won’t be,” you say confidently. You give him a quick peck on the lips before dashing off to take a shower and wash away all of the dust and sweat before getting dressed.

Besides stressing yourself out about going in the first place, the next big thing you worried about was what you were going to wear. You didn’t want to show up under or overdressed, and you’d done countless hours of research on what was usually proper. You even scoured some of your old peers’ social media to see if they’d posted at all about the reunion, any hints of what they would look like. Well, their outfits, at least.

Luckily, it seemed like a lot of your classmates still liked to over share, and you found out more about what others planned to wear that night. Turns out, you had stressed out over almost nothing, as usual. You picked out an outfit from the few choices you’d stuffed into your suitcase, finding something almost new and just fancy enough to put your old classmates to shame. Yes, you were definitely going to outdo your frenemy Shin Ryujin, and without looking tacky too, as Lee Heeseung tended to do. Lucky for him, he was handsome enough that people looked past his terrible sense of fashion and liked him anyways.

You almost tripped down the worn wooden stairs as you tried to multitask and double-check the location while pulling on your left shoe. It wasn’t like you even needed to look it up on your phone; you knew the way to your old high school like the back of your hand. You’d walked there every day for four years, and driven there countless times with other people. You could close your eyes and find yourself there in a matter of fifteen minutes (or less).

Yeonjun had insisted on driving you there himself, and he promised you that he’d pick you up as soon as you texted him as well. You felt your heart flutter as he insisted on escorting you, liking the feeling of being cared for. He played music from a decade ago and sang along, making you giggle and pushing your anxiety to the back of your mind.

Then before you knew it, with a quick kiss, you gathered up your things and left your parents’ car, and stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of your old high school. It’s littered with cigarette butts and old chewed gum, just like it was back in the day, and a wave of nostalgia fills you as you inhale the familiar scent of marijuana and crayons, a jarring juxtaposition that oddly made your heart ache for those years you spent on the cusp of adulthood and the cliff edge of childhood. The very same years that you spent suffering through high school in the very building you were staring at now.

The front entrance is decked out in colorful balloons and a long white banner that reads “WELCOME CLASS OF ‘08” in crooked black paint. You manage a tight-lipped smile at the staff at the entrance, and duck into the main hallway, where a few people are mingling by the sidelines. The gymnasium is booming with music, and it’s almost too similar to your senior prom (which you of course attended with Beomgyu).

You don’t recognize the few people talking outside in the hallway, so you prepare yourself to enter the gymnasium. You have to take a deep breath and look down at your outfit to make sure you’re not in your seafoam green prom dress. The watch on your wrist almost feels the same weight as your oversized corsage made of baby’s breath and small dyed blue buds. Your ankle boots seem to morph into dirty black Converse with scribbles on the toes. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the shiny reflection of the freshly repainted lockers, and your rippled reflection is ten years younger, with unblended green eyeshadow plastered up to your eyebrows and a brown-red lipstick on your lips. Your hair is very reminiscent of the time, and your nails are bitten but painted with matching green nail polish. Underneath your dress, your toenails are slathered with the same shade even though they wouldn’t show with your choice in shoes.

You feel ten years lighter, ten years dumber, ten years younger.

TEN YEARS BEFORE.

You’ve never had a panic attack before, but you think you’re having one now.

In the girls’ bathroom.

At school.

During your senior prom.

You’re breathing heavily, wheezing as your lungs seem to collapse in on themselves. Your manicured hands are gripping the sides of the porcelain sink so tightly your knuckles ache, and you’re staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes are teary, but you know that if you let those tears fall your face will be streaked with metallic green trails for the rest of the night. You grit your teeth and will the wetness in your eyes to go the hell away.

Beomgyu was waiting for you outside the bathroom.

He’d never even asked you to go to prom with him; he just assumed that the two of you would go together. The week before prom, you complained about not having a date, and he’d turned to you with a surprised look, asking why you couldn’t go with him. For some reason, it hurt your feelings a little when he said that you were his best friend, but it healed the wound a little when he said that there was no one else he’d rather go with.

He was so handsome in his suit. You knew that his mother picked it up at Dillard’s and had made slight adjustments herself so that it would fit him perfectly. Even so, the white shirt underneath was wrinkled and his tie was crooked, veering to the right. It didn’t matter to you though, and you’d smiled nervously, blushing from your nose to your toes as he offered you a corsage and you held out the boutineer.

You felt like he was your boyfriend even though you walked the same way to school you did every day. The only difference was that you were all dressed up—and the simple fact that anyone who saw the two of you would assume you were a couple. Especially with the way he had offered his arm to you, and the way you were currently walking perfectly in time as you clutched his thin but muscular arm.

It was too much when you both got to the school and he kissed you on the cheek right before the two of you walked into the gymnasium. Choppy locks of his messy wolf cut fell into his big brown eyes as he grinned at you, cocking his head to the side innocently as you nearly sweat through your makeup.

Then, you ended up in the bathroom. A messy stuttered excuse to Beomgyu had to suffice, and you rushed away from him, clammy hands lifting up the train of your dress so that you didn’t trip as you ran away.

He’s your best friend, idiot, you murmur under your breath, staring at your ragged reflection in the mirror. Stop acting like such a freak. You have a month before you go to school an hour away, and then you won’t have to worry about these feelings ever again.

You place a hand over your heart, feeling the rapid beating start to finally slow as you take deep breaths and reassure yourself that it’s going to be okay. It’s been harder and harder to tamp down the weird bubbling feelings towards Beomgyu, and you’ve never been happier to be attending your back-up school in the fall. Anything is better than here, you think, grimacing. Anywhere away from Beomgyu will help me work out my shit without him interfering.

“Your shit” refers to these odd feelings. Obviously.

You finally let go of the sink and take a step back, relaxing your shoulders and looking at yourself one last time. You look normal. Your face is no longer scrunched up in a confused, panicked expression, and your chest isn’t heaving with shallow breaths. Your hands are less clammy and you feel more at ease. Right before you turn away, you fix the corner of your lipstick with your pinky finger, then spin on your heel and exit the bathroom.

Beomgyu is waiting there, slumped against the lockers, picking at a cuticle. When you come back, his face lights up, and you can’t help but allow yourself to love him more than a friend, even if it’s just for one night.

TEN YEARS LATER.

You practically relive your senior prom in that same bathroom, clutching the sides of the sink and staring at your reflection with a mixture of nausea and anger bubbling in your stomach. This time, all you have to do is take a long drag from your vape before the tension in your head starts to loosen. You exhale, a cloud of white slipping from between your lips as you stuff the little device back in your purse, between your lipstick and your box of cigarettes.

You feel like your old wallflower self again as you lean against the door before pushing it open to exit the bathroom again. For some reason, being in that bathroom again reminded you of the days where you’d skip class and eat lunch alone. You didn’t want to go back out to the crowd, something that you didn’t have any problems with after you graduated high school and came out of your shell for once and for all. But now, surrounded by your past, your hand hesitates a little before pushing the door open and leaving the confines of a place that’s seen you at your best and your worst for the better part of four years.

Then it starts to feel like things are moving in slow motion.

You’re hyper focused on the fact that the heavy bathroom door had dragged a clump of wet paper towels out of the bathroom and across the freshly waxed floors. You grimace as you step around the sodden mess, making a face and successfully avoiding the paper pile.

You look up, the ghost of a scowl still present on your face, and then you see him.

It’s been ten years since you’ve seen Choi Beomgyu, and it’s such a strange feeling that resonates through your entire body that you actually feel bile rising hot in your throat. You swallow hard, tasting bitter stomach acid, and can’t do anything else but stare.

It’s stupid really; you feel, again, like your stupid teenage self. The one who froze up in uncomfortable situations, the one who cried too easily, the one with seemingly permanently sweaty palms that no boy would ever want to touch, especially not when you were around other more radiant individuals. No, you felt like you hadn’t changed at all as you stared at Choi Beomgyu the same way you did when you were eighteen: with nothing but love and pure adoration in your eyes.

But that’s not to say it wasn’t terribly conflicting.

As soon as you saw him and it actually registered in your mind that it was him in real life and not some ghostly memory, you felt your throat tighten as you thought of the last interaction you had with him. Those old familiar feelings of softness and love faded as you remembered the full extent of what he did, and it was hard to just pretend like that didn’t happen. You would never forget that.

But god, was he gorgeous.

Ten years had nothing on him. Even though twenty-eight wasn’t old in the slightest, you could still see signs of aging in your other classmates. Some had hairlines that had receded much further back than they were when they were eighteen, some had the beginnings of smile lines and crow’s feet, and some even had some wisps of gray hair, though it was only a select few.

Beomgyu on the other hand looked exactly the same, yet so oddly different you almost couldn’t recognize him unless you looked very closely. You wondered for a moment how different he’d look in your eyes if you’d been by his side for the past decade and watched him age right beside you, rather than miles and miles away, both physically and metaphorically. Then, you attribute the weird unfamiliar feeling in the pit of your stomach to the fact that you haven’t seen him in years. Because really, you hardly know him any more. You can’t really call him your best friend if you have had zero contact for a decade.

His hair, which you remembered was always messy, shaggy, and unkempt, was cut shorter. Instead of the dark natural black with white streaks, it was a reddish brown. It was just short enough to be acceptable for a professional job, but long enough that it still looked like Beomgyu. His bangs still fell into his eyes the same way as he leaned forward to laugh, and your heart ached as you heard the tail-end of his goofy chuckle. He stood right outside the gymnasium entrance, talking with a guy whose name you think was Soobin. You distantly remember him at the graduation ceremony. He leans against the lockers nonchalantly, making you remember your senior prom again, but this time the way he does so isn’t in a cocky way. He looks genuinely relaxed as his shoulder rests against the cold painted metal, nodding along as Soobin chatters away to him.

This entire time, you’ve been standing right outside the women’s restroom. You’re kind of surprised that no one’s asked you to move out of the way, given how long you were standing there like an idiot with your mouth hanging open like a fish’s.

Luckily, no one really gave a fuck.

People were flying by, most of them on the phone and saying something like, “I was just there! You told me to meet you by the entrance! No, the front entrance!” Others were just standing around, either focusing way too much on their own conversations or typing aggressively on their phones without paying any attention to those around them, which included you.

You fight the urge to whip out a cigarette right then and there, feeling a headache coming on.

Taking out your own phone, you shoot a quick text to Yeonjun, who’s already asking you when you think you might be ready to leave. Unsurprisingly, you already feel exhausted and plan to just stop by the main room and then get the fuck out.

When you look back to the entrance of the gymnasium, Beomgyu and Soobin have disappeared, and you catch a glimpse of Beomgyu’s pale blue dress shirt and Soobin’s khakis rounding the corner to the men’s room, opposite where you’re standing. You breathe a sigh of relief and enter the main room, chewing on your bottom lip as you look around for anyone you know.

It really is like senior prom, you think grimly, as you sidle over to a table with drinks and snacks. You pick up a can of lemonade and pop it open with the little tab, taking little sips from it as you look around some more.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You swallow a mouthful of lemonade and turn to the source of the voice, eyes widening a little in surprise.

It’s Karina, who looks as beautiful as ever. Like Beomgyu, she doesn’t seem to have aged at all, rather, her beauty seemed even more radiant. You knew immediately that she was the type to simply get better looking with age, and you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous at that thought.

She offers you a small smile and stands next to you, looking you over with a satisfied look. “You look really good,” she said honestly, “how have you been?”

You let out a long sigh, ending it with a bitter chuckle. “I’ve been good, finished school, got engaged. After I finish helping my parents pack up the house I won’t have a reason to come back here ever again, so I thought why not?”

“Right, I heard about them moving out. Where to?”

“Some apartment complex, I forgot the name.”

“Was it Autumn Oaks?”

You shake your head no, pursing your lips. “No, that’s not it…” you mumble. trying to remember. Then it comes to you, and you snap your fingers at no one in particular. “Woodbury!” you say, silently commending yourself on remembering the name.

“Oh! I must have been wrong then,” Karina laughs, and you’re again jealous of her because of how delicate and pretty she sounds. It’s like the tinkling of little silver bells. Her eyes scrunch up when she laughs, and your gaze washes over her pretty face. Her laughter subsides, and it becomes just a little awkward as she clears her throat. “So, engaged, huh? Who’s the lucky guy?”

You feel a blush creeping onto your face; your cheeks feel hot.

“Yeah, his name’s Yeonjun. I met him as soon as I got to New York and we’ve been inseparable ever since.” You feel a little sheepish talking about him for some reason, and you’re unsure why. You’re very proud to have a partner as loving, handsome, talented, and successful as Yeonjun. Yet, it’s still weird to admit your love for him. It’s like he doesn’t fit with this version of you. And then you wonder, for a brief moment, if that really matters—have you really changed that much since high school? So much so that Yeonjun doesn’t even fit into the world you used to live in?

Awkwardly, you show Karina the home screen on your phone for reference. It’s a cute selfie of you and Yeonjun from the past winter holidays. When the photo was taken, you and Yeonjun had been on an evening stroll when it started to snow, and heavily. The snowflakes were more like clumps, so many little particles gathered together all at once. In the photo you can see the snow clumps clinging to your winter clothes, your hair, even some resting on your eyelashes and eyebrows. Your noses are red from the cold, a single puff of breath escaping your mouth as you’re caught mid-laugh, mid-smile, permanently in the picture.

At first you hated that picture. You hated that Yeonjun took it when you were caught off guard, hated the way you looked in it. But the more that you looked, the softer your reaction got, and eventually you came to love the photo as much as Yeonjun did. At least, you loved the way he looked in it. With his eyes almost closed from his whole face being scrunched up with laughter, his exposed teeth in his wide smile, and his strong arm wrapped around your shoulders, he looked like the sweetest boyfriend ever.

Karina seemed to think so too as she audibly cooed at the picture. “You guys are adorable,” she declared. Then she stops talking, swiftly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before she locks eyes with you and continues. “Honestly, and I don’t mean this in a bad way at all, I promise—I always thought that you and Beomgyu would end up together.”

There’s a pregnant pause, and it was like everyone in the room held their breath before you remembered where you were and laughed, a little too loudly to be natural. “That’s crazy!” you say between fake chuckles, feeling your stomach turn. You briefly wonder what Karina would do if you threw up all over her, and then pray to any higher being out there that it wouldn’t actually happen. “What makes you think that?” you ask quickly, before she can respond to your exclamation.

She flushes a dark pink. “Oh you know…” she waves a hand in the air. “You two were always together, like always. Everyone thought you were already dating, even if you never were. We all thought so.”

You get déjá vu, remembering the last time you talked to Karina—when she asked you to hook her up with Beomgyu. You get irrationally angry over this, pushing aside the fact that it’s been ten years since she liked him, and you have a fiancé who obviously isn’t Beomgyu.

You force a tight-lipped smile, squeezing your can of lemonade so hard it crunches in your fist a little. Karina doesn’t seem to notice, taking a long sip of her own lemonade.

“Well, it was really nice catching up,” she says, after it’s clear you’re not going to further the conversation. “Good luck. Not that you’ll need it.” She holds out her free hand to you, and you grip it firmly as you both shake. You both burst out into giggles at the odd formality, and the butterflies you get from laughing with a female friend is like nothing else. You wish that you’d had a friend like her in high school. Maybe you even wish that you’d been her friend back in high school.

“Thanks,” you say, “you too. It was so good to see you again.” You find that you genuinely mean it, and a fire roars in your chest. This was what you wanted. You wanted to come back for closure, and now you have it. You saw Beomgyu and he seemed to be doing just fine without you, mended things with the one person you weren’t on great terms with, and you’re folding it all up in your metaphorical box of childhood memories. You can just feel the satisfaction of tying the ribbon and moving on to the next chapter of your life without anything weighing you down.

How mature, you think, to be able to move on from childhood just like that.

You feel accomplished, and a weight that you didn’t even know about has been lifted on your shoulders. You feel lighter than air; you felt as if you could walk amongst the stars if you tried. There’s nothing more for you to do, so you gather yourself and take a deep breath before exiting the gymnasium, giving it one last look. Still, it felt like only yesterday that you’d walked these halls as a student. Those miserable (yet wonderful) years felt like a lightyear and a day away simultaneously.

You’re fumbling through your purse for your phone, to text Yeonjun when your keychain falls out from your vigorous digging. It lands with a loud clink, metal hitting linoleum, and you groan, moving to pick it up, but another hand snatches it before you do.

Standing up, you readjust your purse as the person holds the keychain out to you. “Thanks,” you sigh, reaching for it.

They tug it away then, and you jerk your hand back in surprise. “Where did you get this charm?” the person asks in an accusatory tone.

You finally get your purse back on your shoulder and look the freak in the eyes, but just as you’re about to give them a piece of your mind it clicks. Your breath is stolen from you; you feel like you’re shriveling up on the spot, no oxygen flowing through your veins.

Choi Beomgyu is standing in front of you, frowning at your old matching keychains.

Why hadn’t you gotten a new one, damn it? It’s not something that you regularly thought about; you always made a mental note to get a new one but it always slipped your mind. It was never important enough for you to write down.

You try to say something—what, you don’t know—but your mouth is so dry that you hardly rasp out a single word. Beomgyu finally looks up, dark eyebrows angry and scowling, but as soon as your eyes meet, he melts. You see the hurt, confusion, and warmth flow through his face like waves onto a shore. He drops the keychain again, eyebrows furrowed and hands shaking.

What are you supposed to even say in this situation? You have no fucking idea.

That’s why you run. You squat down quickly to snatch your keys up, and then sprint for the front entrance. The doors are wide open, and you can see the pink and purple sunset, just out of reach. You don’t look back, and you’re soon you’re half running, half tripping down the staircase and then slipping on the dirt pathway all the way back to your house.

It’s stupid. It’s juvenile. It’s immature. Why did you run from him like a maniac? Why didn’t you just say hello and then goodbye like a normal person? No, now things were definitely going to be weird.

Sweat is running down your back when you finally get back to your house. It’s not a long walk, but even though the sun had now fully gone down, it was still hotter than ever. You forgot how nasty summers in your hometown could be.

Musty, muggy air surrounds you as you wipe your moist forehead with your wrist. You feel suffocated in your semi-fancy outfit, and your dress shoes are killing your feet. All you want is to get home, take a shower, and forget that you ever saw him.

So that’s what you do. You don’t tell anyone that you saw him, even though you know they’re wondering. Especially Yeonjun, who was so eager to pick you up from the school and hear all about the reunion. You can see it written across all their faces as you eat dinner together—while they ate, at least. You still felt so sick that all you did was pick at it with your fork and push things around on your plate.

Afterwards, you kiss Yeonjun on the forehead and slip out the door. It’s too early to go to sleep just yet, and you want some fresh air.

Now that the sun had fully gone away, the air had cooled more, but just a little. It was thick and warm, and the buzzing of mosquitoes and other pests hummed in your ears as you itched an already inflamed bite on your ankle. Fireflies danced close to the grass, the flashing yellow lights illuminating the dark blades. Distantly, you could hear big bullfrogs croaking and crickets chirping, and you knew that it came from the small stream that you and Beomgyu liked to mess around in way back when. You lost a sandal there once, you think.

The road from your house to your school started off as black asphalt, but later turned into a winding dirt path, carved by human feet alone, through a small thicket of trees fondly referred to as “the forest.” There were multiple ways to get there though; you and Beomgyu just liked this one best. You stand where dirt meets concrete, staring into the forest, and puffing on a cigarette, exhaling plumes of smoke floating up towards the massive full moon. It’s still too hot out, but you somehow feel more suffocated inside the house. Something about Yeonjun and your parents staring you down, their eyes practically begging to know what happened. You don’t need their damn sympathy, you just needed to chill the fuck out.

“Big city girl needs her nicotine fix?”

Somehow, you knew this would happen. A part of you knows that’s why you came out here tonight.

“Only when I’m stressed.” You purposely take an exaggerated, long drag.

“Because of me? I’m flattered.”

Beomgyu finally stands beside you, heels on the asphalt and toes brushing against the loose dirt. You refuse to look him in the eye. You refuse to look at him at all. The only light is from the moon and your lit cigarette, flashing reddish orange every time you breathed in.

“What do you want?” There’s no softness in your voice despite your opposing feelings inside. You drop the remains of your cigarette onto the dirt ground and stamp it out with your shoe, which you now realize are an old pair of Converse, worn down and caked with dirt.

And, complete with faded Sharpie scribbles made by you and the cocky bastard standing next to you.

“You ran away from me earlier.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“You ran away from me ten years ago too.”

You groan loudly, wiping your face dramatically until the reds of your eyes showed. “I’m not doing this again,” you say, in a voice that’s much higher pitched than normal. You’re getting mad.

“What, you’re just gonna run away again? Very mature,” he said sarcastically. Your heart panged with hurt; there was venom in his words. Clearly, he was still hurting from you leaving. He hadn’t healed either.

“Say what you want to say, I’m only here until the end of the week anyways,” you snap.

Honestly, even though you’re still mad at him, a part of you still cares deeply for him, and it makes your throat tighten when you see the despair on his face. You know you did the right thing back then; leaving, and never talking to Beomgyu again. You never wanted to let him think that what he did was okay, and you knew that if you ever reached out to him and apologized he would assume that. Even so, there were so many nights where you sobbed into your pillow, restraining yourself from calling his number, not even knowing if he ever got a new one. Maybe that was another reason why you didn’t want to call; if you tried to call and couldn’t reach him, it’d be ten times more humiliating.

“You know I’m sorry, don’t you?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it okay,” you mumble, dejectedly. “Just because you said that you’re sorry, just because you are sorry, it doesn’t mean you didn’t try to purposely ruin my future. For selfish reasons too.”

He doesn’t reply for a minute, cocking his head to the side like he always used to do. Seeing him with his old mannerisms makes you feel sick.

“I know,” he says, choosing his words carefully. “I was a stupid kid. I didn’t want you to leave, even if it meant holding you back. It was so damn selfish, and I am so sorry.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Okay. Thanks.” Again, Beomgyu doesn’t reply right away, and instead he turns to face you. The moonlight hits his face perfectly at this angle, and his features are lit up by the beams of silver. You can’t help but look over at him too, staring into his brown eyes that look completely black in the night. They’re so big and dark, but the moonlight reflects sparkles into them. Your scowl softens as you take in the slight signs of aging that you realize he’s beginning to show. His jawline is much more square now; his chin and nose slightly more prominent. There’s faint smile lines traced into his smooth skin, so light that you know you wouldn’t be able to see it in the daylight. The faintest whisper of stubble was only obvious on his chin, if you looked very closely. “Is that all you wanted to say to me?” you say finally, after what seemed like an eternity of you two staring into each other’s eyes.

“No,” he admitted. “There’s so much I want to say, but I’ll forget most of it before I even begin. But I missed you a lot. And I still love you a lot too.”

You wince at the declaration of his feelings, and you hope to any god out there that he means he still loves you as a friend, as someone he’s known for so long. But you know that isn’t what he means. You ask anyways.

“And by love… you mean…”

“I never stopped loving you,” he said fiercely, and his eyes look wet in the pale light. “I never will.”

“You’re crazy,” you say, but your voice cracks, and when you see Beomgyu’s pleading eyes finally spill over at the sound of emotion breaking through your rock solid facade, you shatter.

You’re leaking like a broken faucet; no sobs or cries, just silent tears streaming down your face non-stop. Beomgyu’s crying too, but he’s the opposite. His shoulders are shaking so hard from the force of holding his sobs in, and you can hear his little chokes as he swallows them down. Against your own better judgement, you mentally say fuck it, and walk over to him to take him in your arms.

You regret it and love it at the same time.

He smells just like he did back then; you can tell he uses the same cologne and it makes you smile into the top of his head, where your chin rests softly. And yes, the smell still makes your nostrils sting initially—but you find it doesn’t really bother you like it used to. His body against yours feels different physically but the same in memory. He’s broader, a little taller, a little more squishy now that he’s out of his teen boy phase where he grows faster than he can eat to catch up. But the way his hands clasp around your back, the way he buries his face in your neck, the shake of his left leg (you can tell he’s genuinely nervous because of this), it’s all the same.

You watch your own tears drip down into his red-brown hair, smoothing them away before they can soak in. You sit there on the asphalt in silence, stroking his soft hair and holding him close, as you both cry.

You almost press a quick kiss to the top of his head, but as soon as you look up you see Yeonjun standing there, flowery apron on and an oven mitt on one hand. Right, he’d been in the middle of baking dessert when you’d run out. You push Beomgyu away, a little too roughly, as Yeonjun looks the two of you up and down suspiciously. “Is that Beomgyu?” he asks sharply, and Beomgyu, upon hearing another man’s voice, turns around before you can even open your mouth to reply.

“I am. And who are you?” Beomgyu asks, rather rudely. You shove him again and stand up, walking over to Yeonjun and shaking your head. You bring your wrist up to your eyes and roughly wipe away any of the remaining tears. Yeonjun notices this and his expression softens as he bends down to try to look at your face.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he murmurs softly, rubbing your back gently. “This asshole didn’t try anything, did he?”

“What did you just call me?” Beomgyu asks loudly.

“I called you an asshole because that’s what you are,” Yeonjun snaps. He gently takes you by the arm so he can guide you back to the house, and you let him. “And just so you know, I’m Yeonjun, her fiancé. So fuck off.” He sends one last bone-chilling glare at Beomgyu before he wraps an arm around you and walks you back down the road. Beomgyu can see him leaning down to whisper in your ear, and he grits his teeth angrily, knowing that you’re both talking about him.

“It’s fine, Jun, really,” you say, between stuttered gasps for air. You’re crying again, harder this time. It’s embarrassing; you’re not sad, you’re angry.

“Are you sure? He didn’t try to pull anything? Promise?”

“Promise,” you choke out, and Yeonjun presses a swift kiss to your wet cheek as he closes the front door behind the two of you.

“Then… can I ask what was happening when I found you two?” he asks quietly.

You avert your eyes and stare at the ground. You’ve tracked in some dirt, and you know your mom will be pissy if you don’t clean it up before you go to bed. Yeonjun says your name, reaching over to tilt your chin up so you can look him in the eye.

“He started crying because he felt bad, so then I felt bad and… I just hugged him. He looked so pathetic.” You tell Yeonjun the truth, and he accepts it immediately. There’s no question about it; he trusts you completely.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that alone,” he says, sounding genuinely sorry that he wasn’t there with you. “I would have beat his ass.”

“And that’s why we walked away,” you said, laughing a little and wiping your teary eyes.

“That’s right,” he repeats, pulling you into a tight hug. An immense wave of guilt washes over you as you flinch; your first thought was something terrible.

You like Beomgyu’s hugs better, and you always have.

—

The next morning dawns hot and dry.

Unlike the previous day, in which the air held so much moisture you could feel your clothes clinging to your seemingly permanently damp body, this heat was unbearable in a different way.

You swear you can feel your skin cracking and drying as soon as you step into the direct sunlight, no matter how much sunscreen you apply. Heat waves are practically visible when you look outside; they’re distorting the image of the big tree in your backyard.

This morning, you’re sitting on your front porch with a paper plate and a steaming mug of coffee. On the paper plate is a blueberry streusel muffin; courtesy to your fiancé’s above average baking skills—and also the reason behind the flower-patterned apron he had been wearing when he came across you and Beomgyu having a weird emotional snot-fest. The muffin is a little soggy, as muffins tend to degrade to once they’ve been shut in a tupperware overnight, but the promise of a sweet treat first thing in the morning far outweighed the initial disappointment upon seeing a second morning muffin.

Chewing slowly, you dust off your streusel sticky hands, crumbs rolling off your palms and landing onto the peeling wood of your front porch. You watch one big crumb of streusel roll down the expanse of your thigh and down two, three steps until it lands in a patch of sunlight further down the stairs that lead to the street. It’s early enough in the morning that the sun isn’t directly overhead and therefore burning you as soon as you walk out the front door, and you’re grateful for the temporary shade. Your bare feet brush against the edge of the shadows, toes dipping into light and spreading across the sun warmed wood.

It’s a gloriously individual morning, and you breathe in the smell of trees and warm grass. If only you could freeze this moment in time and revisit it whenever you wanted. If only you had such an escape that you could return to when times got tough.

But really, that morning is the only peaceful part of your day. You’re arguing with your co-worker on the phone as soon as you down your last sip of coffee, which had by then cooled into a lukewarm liquid. You hate the last few gulps of a hot drink, because there is nothing worse than a lukewarm drink that’s meant to be hot. Then, irritable from your row with Jeongin, who fucked up your entire project and needed help restoring a few very simple documents, paired with the misery of living in a house with no AC during the hottest, driest summer months, you end up being snappy with Yeonjun.

Also, your mother made your least favorite dish for dinner, and as much as you appreciated your parents for cooking for you, there was no way in hell you were eating it.

Stomach growling, head aching, and fingers sore from furious emailing (thanks to Jeongin), you curl up on your side in bed. Your hair is still damp from your recent shower, and your face is shiny and a little sore from you taking out your anger on your face when you were washing it.

You’re plucking at a piece of your hair, just toying with it mindlessly, when you feel the edge of your bed dip down as someone sits on it. You freeze, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth to chew on it nervously until you taste blood.

“Long day, huh?” Yeonjun asked softly. You scoot over a little to let him lay next to you, but you don’t turn to look at him. He sidles in carefully, leaving just a little space between your bodies in case you’re not comfortable with too much contact tonight. You shrug in response, the only sound being your t-shirt brushing against your bed sheets as your shoulders move up and down in place of real words.

“I was just annoyed, and everything piled up so quickly after I had to fix Jeongin’s shit.” You spit out Jeongin’s name like it’s poisonous, and Yeonjun can’t help but chuckle at your petty behavior.

“He’s a kid,” he chided, “but he is a pretty dumb one, at that. I thought young people were supposed to be good with technology.”

“Doesn’t apply to clueless idiots,” you mumble, your words muffled from your lips being pressed to your pillowcase.

“It’s been a long few days for you, hasn’t it?” he asked, forgetting about Jeongin and his antics. “Are you sure you don’t wanna fly home early?”

Home. Fly home. Right, this wasn’t home any more, even though you always referred to it as that. I’m going home for Christmas. This girl I knew from back home got married last month. My hometown is a wasteland and I never want to go back. But I don’t want to lose it, either.

“I’m okay,” you start, and you can just picture Yeonjun’s doubtful frown without turning to look at his face. “Fine, I will be okay once this is all wrapped up and over with. It’s a stressful time but it’s something I have to do. I had to come back to my high school reunion for closure. I had to at least see Beomgyu one last time. I had to help my parents clean and sell the house.” You’re laying it out for him, word by word, and he pays attention to your intonation and serious tone, moving a little closer so that he could rest his head right next to yours. His nose poked the back of your scalp as he inhaled the scent of your shampoo, and underneath that, the scent of you.

You swallow hard, feeling all of the anger from your long, stressful day melt away. Yeonjun’s steady breathing and complete attention to your stupid rant had calmed you. Silently, you both stare up at the warm-toned walls, washed with a dim yellow light from the small lamp on your nightstand, the only light in the house left on at the moment. It was late, past midnight, and you two were the only two souls in the house that were awake.

Holding your breath, you slowly move closer to Yeonjun until your bodies are pressed so tightly to each other that you couldn’t wedge a single finger between where you two were connected. He breathes in harshly at the feeling of your hips connecting, flexing his hands into fists to try and control himself. Then, with a shaking hand, you reach over to find him, and once your fingers brush against his, you slip your hand into his hold. His fingers are warm, soft, familiar. Especially from the past few days of moving heavy objects. You bring your intertwined hands up to your chest, and then they part—you press his newly free hand against your breast, letting him feel your hardened, sensitive nipple. He groans softly, deeply, into your hair as he thumbs at the hardened nub over the thin material of your shirt.

You exhale, happy that he seems to have missed you as much as you missed him.

Now you feel his hard length pressed up against your backside, grinding roughly into you and making you slick with anticipation, though you were both still fully clothed. Momentarily, he let go of your tit, and before you could whisper a question he slipped his hand underneath your shirt to grope at them freely, without any barriers. He’s breathing heavier now, soft grunts escaping his lips ever now and then. You’re holding back a whimper as he sucks hickies onto your neck, his hot tongue making you squirm.

All in one quick fumble, you’re facing him now and your lips are pressed to his. Your neck is stinging from his teeth, your nipples burning from his calloused fingers pinching and teasing. Worst of all, your clothed cunt, grinding against Yeonjun’s hard muscular thigh, which he had pressed roughly between your legs as soon as you turned to face him, gasping.

You feel your teeth knock against his as you choke down a moan when your clit nudges against his thigh just right, and he reaches up with one hand to grab your throat gently, just enough to get your attention. He shushes you, and you whimper quietly as his fingers move up from your throat to inside your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the digits, sucking them deeper into your mouth, eager to please as you stare at his gorgeous face, half hidden in the shadows. His lips are swollen and red in the limited light, his eyes hooded and dark as he stares at you sucking on his fingers, desperate and longing. You haven’t felt this way in a long time. When was the last time you wanted to please a man this badly?

Yeonjun pulls his fingers out of your mouth, staring at the string of saliva that connects them to your bottom lip momentarily before it inevitably breaks, and then he reaches down into your pants, spit soaked fingers expertly finding your clit, as they have done for years and years. He knows everything about your body, and better yet, everything about your mind that makes your body react.

He’s going to give it to you exactly how you like it, exactly like he’s done for years and years. He’s never let you down before, and he isn’t planning on it now, even when it’s in your childhood bedroom.

He winks at you before ducking under the covers, and you feel his hands grabbing at the waistband of your pants. You lift up your ass, letting him remove your shorts and panties at the same time, and finally, you feel his warm breath tickling your inner thighs as he leans in.

He presses sloppy, wet kisses down your thighs as he works his way to the center, and finally you feel his fingers teasing you with light touches, poking and prodding just to get on your nerves a little so that you’ll pull his hair the way he likes it. And that you do, tangling your fingers in his brown locks as he smiles into your cunt, your wetness dripping down his chin.

Yeonjun reappears once he’s done his job, so well that you had to stuff your fist into your mouth when you came so that you didn’t wake up your parents with the loudest, most pornographic moan you’ve ever uttered. Your legs are shaking as he emerges from between your legs, your slick making his lips and chin glisten in the light. You reach up to grab him by the shirt, dragging him down to you so that you can taste yourself on his swollen, pouty lips. It’s salty, a little bitter and musky, and you can smell it all over his face as you messily make out with him, lips sliding over each other as you fumble with the bottom of his shirt to try and tug it up. Feeling your cold hands on his stomach, he reluctantly stops kissing you to rip it off his body, tossing it onto the floor with a flourish. It joins the pile of clothes on the floor, alongside your shorts and panties, which had made their way closer and closer to the edge of the bed before finally just falling in a sad heap, forgotten about in the heat of the moment.

You watch his muscles flex in the dim light as he tosses his shirt onto the floor, your eyes glowing with lust. He dives back in; kissing you like it’s the last time he’ll be able to taste your lips as he fumbles with his pants. You part once more to rid yourself of the remaining clothing items clinging to your bodies; your shirt and his pants.

You’re already reaching over with a spit soaked hand to grab at his dick before he even gets the chance to toss his boxers on the floor, and he sharply inhales at the feeling of you sliding your slick hand over his cock head. You feel it twitch under your touch and giggle. The effect that you have on him has never dimmed; you are the most gorgeous person in the world to him.

Before you and Yeonjun had officially gotten together, you had just been friends. He was two years older than you, an upperclassman already, and he didn’t want to hold you back with a relationship as soon as you got to school. No matter how much he liked you, he kept his distance just a little as he watched you grow and change as a person in those first few months as an adult. In this time, you managed to rack up a few sexual experiences, some better than others, all being below average at best.

It was hooking up, that’s all it was. That’s the only kind of sex that you had, the only kind that you thought existed. Fucking. Hooking up. Having sex. Such plain, brash terms.

Then, you were with Yeonjun.

Fucking had a different meaning with him. There was affection, an underlying softness even when he was being rough, an overflow of love pouring from his heart into yours every time he was inside of you. It made you feel weird at first, and you actually avoided him for a bit after you started crying during one heated night due to feeling so safe in his arms. It was so new that you got scared; you thought it was wrong.

It wasn’t just fucking any more, you later thought, he was making love to you. It was as simple as that. You had previously thought that fucking, having sex, making love, hooking up—it was all pretty much the same thing; they were all synonymous terms. No, the difference with Yeonjun was that he made love to you, and that was the missing puzzle piece in your previously deeply unsatisfying sex life.

You knew that this is what he was doing now, especially tonight when you were both feeling so vulnerable. His lips hardly leave yours, save for when one of you needs to take a gasping breath, and his hands roam your body, embracing and worshiping every single part of you. It’s driving you crazy, as you’re doing nothing but kissing though you can feel his hard cock brushing against your weeping slit every time he leans forward. To remedy this, you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer to you. Now he’s grinding against you, his length pulsating against your cunt with every movement either of you make.

“Please Jun, please just do it already,” you whine, over and over, crying in his ear.

He teases you endlessly, stuttering his hips to make your breath catch in your throat, smirking at your visceral reactions to him. In the middle of your begging, he angles his hips differently, and his head slips into you, a breathy moan leaving your lips. He bites down hard on his lower lip, resisting the urge to groan aloud and slap your tit to see it jiggle, and pushes the rest of his cock in, warmth enveloping him as he closes his eyes.

Your hands scrabble for something to hold onto, and his shaking hands find your flailing ones. He grips your hand tightly, pinning it above your head as he rocks his hips into you. The covers slip off of his narrow hips at the slow, constant thrusts, exposing all of you in the light. You look down to see where you’re connected, see the ring of your slick around the base of his shiny cock, and throw your head back with a whine as he pushes into you particularly roughly.

Yes, sex with Yeonjun is always full of passion, full of love. It elevates the experience for you, when you feel so deeply and wholly for the person that you’re having relations with.

You can’t help but pull him in for another kiss when he chokes out a quick warning, words spilling from his trembling lips. You’ve orgasmed twice already, from Yeonjun putting off his own orgasm in order to make sure you achieve yours. His neglected cock, edged multiple times, was red and leaking copious amounts of precum by the time his trembling hand directed it back inside of your swollen pussy after your second high.

You feel warmth erupt from his cock as he cries into the kiss, unable to tamp down the soft groans that escape his lungs. Slick, wet sounds are the only thing you can hear apart from the both of your labored breathing, as he keeps thrusting his softening cock inside. You feel his cum leaking down your ass cheeks, and your cunt clenches around him as he stills inside of you.

Somehow, the two of you fall asleep like that. It’s just so warm and fuzzy and sticky, and you’re so tired that when he lays his sweaty face in your chest, you close your eyes and don’t open them again until the early hours of the morning, when you feel like you’re about to piss yourself.

You leave Yeonjun in the cum-stained bed; it’s still just past two in the morning, but you know you won’t be able to fall back asleep now. At least, not while there’s rivulets of dried semen down your inner thighs and you smell like a mixture of saliva and sweat. After you flush the toilet, you stare at the reflection of your hickey covered neck in the mirror hanging on your wall, pressing against one lightly with your pointer finger and grimacing at the purple color. It’d be a bitch to try and cover. You want to shower again so badly, but first you need a smoke. You find a half empty box of stale cigarettes in your purse and a gas station lighter on your nightstand, and you open your window and step out onto the roof.

It’s a cool night. Your bare feet and legs—you only put on Yeonjun’s shirt and a fresh pair of panties when you woke up—scrape against the rough surface of the roof tiles. You’re clutching the box of cigarettes so hard you think you might have dented a few of them. Balancing one between your lips, you light it and inhale deeply, tossing the lighter down and leaning back before exhaling. You watch the exhaled smoke rise up to the dark sky before eventually dissipating.

“I seriously think you have a problem,” a disapproving voice states, and you curse aloud, almost dropping the lit cigarette off the roof as you sit up.

Again, Beomgyu stands there, looking wounded. “Why the fuck are you here?” you ask. Suddenly, the way that you’re dressed makes you extremely uncomfortable. Beomgyu seems to notice this too, eyes following the length of your bare legs, disappearing beneath the oversized shirt you have on. With disappointment, he realizes this is probably Yeonjun’s shirt covering your body. This is quickly remedied when you sit up in annoyance and he catches a flash of your panties underneath. He feels like a teenage boy when a simple glimpse of white panties makes his cock twitch in his pants.

“I wanted to be an adult and say I’m sorry,” he says indignantly, offended at your violent tone.

“At one in the morning?” You scoff, stubbing out your cigarette on the roof tiles even though it’s only half-gone. You don’t feel like smoking any more, not with Beomgyu’s judgemental eyes on you.

“He get you into that shit?”

“Jesus, Gyu,” you snap.

“Fine, fine! I don’t care. I’m sorry.” His lithe figure, bathed in moonlight, moves closer to you, but with a slight caution. You know he isn’t completely sure how you feel about him.

“Just sit down already.”

He sits.

“You called me Gyu again.”

His voice sounds thick, pained. You habitually reach up and touch your chapped, kiss-swollen lips. You hadn’t even noticed that the old nickname slipped out; it felt so natural to say even though it had been so long since you had. The closest you came to saying any variation of your ex best friend’s name was the silent mouthing of the vowels and consonants that made up one of the most beautiful names you’ve ever heard. The loneliest nights, mostly the ones that you struggled through right after you moved away, were spent with the ghost of his name on your lips. You were too cowardly to go any further, as if the simple singular utterance of his name might summon him from across the country and into your dorm room. The wound was so fresh that even the made-up version of Beomgyu that came with the memories was too much for you to bear.

“Remember all the nights we’d come out here and just look at the stars?” he asks suddenly, and all of a sudden you truly feel eighteen and heartsick again—staring up into the dark void of nothingness above you, rendering you and Beomgyu smaller than the tiniest ant, nothing more than two less than microscopic specks on such a vast planet.

“Yeah,” you manage to get out, though your voice sounds oddly strained.

“The night before you left—the last time I saw you—I was looking at the stars and thinking of us.” He laughs a little, and you can’t help but turn to look at him, your dry eyes burning with the possibility of tears. You’re on your side now, facing him; he’s still laying flat on his back with his hands clasped behind his head. His eyes are locked on the night sky, so focused that he doesn’t even realize that the girl he loves is staring at him with tears in her eyes. “And then, you just appeared. It was like I manifested you. You looked fake in the moonlight too.”

“Fake?”

“Yeah, you almost didn’t look like yourself. You were wearing this dress, a floaty looking one with flowers, and you looked so pretty that I thought I was imagining you standing in front of me. I thought I made it all up, until I grabbed your hand and you were warm and solid and real.” Now he turns to look at you and realizes that you’re facing him, paying full attention to his rambling. Slowly, he mirrors your pose, turning to look at you. Your faces were close enough now that if you both leaned in, you’d kiss. The very thought of that makes your stomach turn—with anticipation or dread, you’re unsure.

“Like now.” He whispers this last part, before looking down and taking your hand in his gently. His hands are different from Yeonjun’s; instead of being smooth and soft, they are dry and calloused. You can see how years of work in his dad’s old shop has taken a toll on his poor hands; the days where his hands were young and clean were long gone. You hold his hand up to your face to study it closer, to memorize each little line and freckle so that when you left for the last time you could remember exactly what Choi Beomgyu’s hand looked like, exactly how it felt to hold. Years from now, you will be sick and dying in bed, and you will wonder if the pale, slight freckles on the back of his hand will disappear amongst dozens of age spots. Will his fingers gnarl and twist like his grandfather’s did, falling victim to arthritis? Will his nails grow thick and yellow, like so many other elders’ do? You take in the cracked fingertips, the dirt and oil under his nails.

“Like now?” you ask thickly.

He nods, head slightly bobbing up and down. It was so subtle that you almost didn’t catch it, instead focusing on his full lips and how they glistened. How was it possible for a man to have such perfect, delicate features? You’d never seen anyone so pretty in your life. There’s something about seeing a beautiful man in the middle of the night; the moonlight will illuminate their face in a completely different way than sunlight does. It will make you see an entirely new side of him, and it will only make you fall deeper in love with this unattainable, gorgeous boy. Once you see a beautiful boy in the moonlight, you will never be able to forget about them, and this is when you know that you will never be able to let Choi Beomgyu go. More time could elapse—ten, fifteen, twenty more years—and you’d still think of him too often for it to be normal. You’d still hope that one day, you get another chance to try things again.

That is how you find yourself kissing Choi Beomgyu, nothing but a single pane of glass separating the two of you and your sleeping fiancé.

His lips are slightly chapped. They’re warm, but his tongue is hot and wet as it glides across your lips, begging you to open your mouth. You do so after only a brief hesitance, sighing a little into his mouth as he cautiously puts a hand on your waist. The feeling of his hands on you seems to snap you out of your daze, and you quickly pull away from him, sitting back up and looking at the window, panicked. It’s still dark. No one is awake but you and Beomgyu.

He reaches for your hand again. “Are you okay?” he asks. It’s a stupid question, you think—you just cheated on your loving, perfect fiancé—and he’s asking if you’re fine? Of course, he’s guilt-free in this—Yeonjun’s feelings mean nothing to him.

“I just can’t do this. Not while he’s sleeping right there.” You look away, guilt already melting away as you stare into Beomgyu’s gorgeous eyes. It’s like you forget all about Yeonjun as long as Beomgyu’s there in his place.

Beomgyu ponders your words for a moment, looking off into the distance and pursing his lips. “Then… let’s go somewhere else.”

You bite your tongue. Somewhere else?

“And that means…?” you ask.

“I know a place,” he says mysteriously. “Do you trust me?”

You know you do before you even say it. Before the incident, there was no one you trusted more than Beomgyu. And even after the incident, you know that you would be safe with him.

You quickly climb back into your room and snatch up a pair of shorts that are laying on the floor, pulling them on so that you’re not walking around in your panties. You also slip on some shoes, the first comfortable pair you see.

After you climb back out the window and shut it as quietly as possible, he motions for you to follow him. He shimmies down the side of your house, whispering directions to you when you try to mimic his moves. You slip a little more than halfway down, your panicked scream catching in your throat, reducing it to little more than an exhale, but you land in strong, firm arms. Beomgyu rolls his eyes at your clumsiness, not the least bit phased, but you have to calm your rapidly beating heart before you even think to thank him.

You feel a new fire burning in your chest, the thrill of doing something so daring, so wrong, waking up your hibernating rebellious side. You’re reminded of other moonlit walks you had with Beomgyu, years and years ago. You snuck out the same way, through your bedroom window—you just didn’t fall halfway down.

It’s only when you’re more than halfway there that you realize where Beomgyu is leading you. He helps you across a shallow stream, telling you which rocks are safe to step on and which are slick with damp moss, and then a memory pops back into your head. You land safely on the dirt ground, clutching Beomgyu’s hand, and you grin. “Are we going to Thomas?”

Thomas—the nickname that you and Beomgyu gave to the abandoned boxcar in a clearing in the woods. At the time, you were regularly babysitting a child in the neighborhood, who was obsessed with the animated show about a talking train named Thomas. For a few months, you and Beomgyu watched a little more of the show than you’d like to ever admit. You also both enjoyed it more than you’d like to admit. But something that you were more than happy to admit, you now had a good code name for the train car in the woods.

“You still remember!” he exclaims. “I was starting to think you seriously forgot about him.”

“I did, until we crossed the stream,” you admitted. “It’s been a while.”

“It really has,” he agrees, “since when, junior year of high school?”

“Something like that.”

You only have to walk a little longer before the trees thin out, and you spot the faded old car on the other end of the small clearing. You take Beomgyu’s hand, and you both run over, laughing openly and bumping into each other playfully. He boosts you up into the car first, and then hoists himself up and sits beside you.

The door had been ripped off the car since you’d found it, and it was now covered in moss and broken down into splinters behind the structure. This meant that there was a section of the car that was lit up by the moonlight, so you weren’t stuck in complete darkness. That was where you and Beomgyu sat, legs hanging over the edge, until he nudged you and got up, walking further inside the car until he sat down at the far end, motioning for you to come inside. You follow him, kneeling beside him, heart hammering in your chest as he slowly takes your hands.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asks quietly.

You swallow hard, but nod. You shut your eyes tightly before your lips collide, but as soon as he’s kissing you again you don’t care any more—there’s no more hesitation. You’re bringing his hands to your chest eagerly, sucking his tongue into your mouth.

He pushes you down, so that your back is flat on the floor of the car, and he’s slotted between your legs. He’s groping your tits over your shirt, pressing his knee into your cunt.

You pull out of the kiss, opening your eyes and studying him. His lips are swollen now, and he’s panting. “I want to see you,” you whisper.

“Then look,” he says sassily, cocking his head to the side, shifting his bangs into his eyes.

“No,” you whine softly, “I want to see all of you.”

He holds his breath once he realizes what you mean. You watch intently as he slowly sits back on his heels, taking off every item of clothing carefully. You do the same, making a neat pile so that you don’t lose anything.

You’ve seen him shirtless before, when you’d go to the pool or he’d change his shirt in front of you on the occasion. But now, he looked different. He’s more muscular, more solid. He’s still slim, but it’s clear that he’s worked on his body and grown into it more over the years. You can’t take your eyes off of him as he takes off his pants, gaze fixated on the bulge in his boxers. He flushes a dark pink when he follows your eyes, and gets back between your legs, staring at your naked tits. Your nipples are stiff in the cool night air, and he gently tweaks one of them, smiling when you inhale sharply.

“Is this okay?” he asks, when his mouth is an inch away from your breast. His warm breath ghosts over your skin, and you moan quietly, nodding and pushing your chest against his lips. He sucks your nipple into his mouth, grazing his teeth against it, and you can’t help but place a hand on the back of his head and lean into his mouth.

When he’s done admiring your tits, which he’s dreamed about for years, he places wet kisses down your body, until he reaches the band of your panties. “Okay?” he asks again, just as his fingertips curl underneath the elastic.

“Yes, please,” you gasp, and he pulls them down your thighs, tossing them into the pile of clothes in the corner. He places his hands on your knees, spreading your legs, eager to see you. He leans down, parting your glistening lips in the moonlight, and feeling prideful—you’re wet because of him. He did this, not Yeonjun.

It seems that the differences between Beomgyu and Yeonjun keep growing—the two of them eat pussy differently too.

Beomgyu’s messy with it, spit already dripping down your cunt and down his chin. He’s rough too, pressing his tongue against your clit until your thighs are shaking uncontrollably. His soft hair curls around your fingers as you pull his head closer to your cunt.

You cum, surprisingly harder than you have in a while. You’re whining and bucking your hips into his face, until he finally lifts his face. His lips and chin are wet, and he has a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What?” you ask, suddenly embarrassed at the way he’s staring you down.

“You’re so hot,” he sighs, and you feel yourself blushing at his genuine glee.

“Whatever,” you mumble, suppressing a giggle, but he doesn’t stop smiling to himself as he takes off his boxers.

You think it’s completely, wholly unfair how beautiful he looks naked.

Something about his skin makes him look extra luminous in the moonlight that washes over his body in pale stripes, slipping through the slats of the wooden walls and pouring in through the door frame. His auburn-brown hair looks dark cherry red in the limited light, so different from the fine black hairs that litter his arms, legs, and stomach. This is where your gaze dips lower, towards the one part of Beomgyu you’d never seen before.

His cock, hard and leaking, twitches as he feels you staring. You’re impressed—but really, you weren’t expecting to be disappointed. You’ve never seen him naked before, but you weren’t an idiot. After seeing him in his swim trunks that last summer, you couldn’t help but bring that image to mind whenever your fingers traveled beneath the elastic band of your panties. You swallow hard as he drops back down, hovering over you. He’s breathing heavily, nervously, as he tries to decipher the unassuming expression on your face.

“I hope I’m not disappointing you,” he can’t help but blurt out, not thinking straight.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face close to yours again, kissing him long and deep. He melts into your embrace, quickly reciprocating your excitement. You feel the head of his dick nudge against your slit as he moves closer, and you unconsciously buck your hips up, slipping it inside for just a moment. You both shudder at the sudden closeness, the sensation of being closer than you ever have before, and you part—he stares so deeply into your eyes that you swear he’s staring at your soul. You feel more naked than ever; it surpasses your physical body. You’ve exposed your loves, your fears, your darkest secrets and the skeletons in your closet, before baring your tangible nudity—something you’d never done before.

His eyes drop to your neck and chest, and the adoring fuzzy gaze disappears as he takes in the dark marks left by Yeonjun. His hold on your hips tighten, so hard that you’re gasping from the tingling mixture of pain and pleasure, and he attacks the same spot on the side of your neck, the same one that Yeonjun had been nibbling at as he worked you through an orgasm. It’s sore, swollen—the skin is hot to the touch and bruised already, but Beomgyu’s hard teeth reignite the pain ten times over as he roughly rubs your clit. You cry out, thighs squeezing his hand as you come again, feeling over sensitive already.

He positions himself at your entrance, looking up to you for confirmation. Your chest is heaving as you pant, still woozy from your orgasm, but you know you won’t be wholly satisfied until you feel him completely. This time, you need him in a way you have never had him. You nod, and he reaches up to clasp your hand above your head, rough fingers pinning you to the wooden floor.

He enters you in one fluid motion, so smooth you don’t register it until he’s fully sheathed inside and the two of you let out a simultaneous deep groan.

“Does he fuck you as good as I do?” Beomgyu can’t help but spit out between moans, slamming his hips into yours so roughly that the slap of skin on skin echoes around the empty car.

You’re getting annoyed at how you keep comparing Beomgyu to Yeonjun, so when his thrusts differ from your fiancé’s too, you completely block the thought of your loving partner out of your head. You forget that he’s asleep in your childhood bedroom, cuddling with your favorite stuffed animal, surrounded by the smell of you. You forget that it’s too late to ever go back, to ever regain what has been broken. And you forget that you ever hated Beomgyu, because it was hard to hate him when your mind was so clouded by lust you couldn’t think of anyone else.

The last thing you think about before you fall asleep in the early hours of the morning with another man’s cum leaking out of your sore cunt, is how angelic Beomgyu’s face looked when he filled you up. It made you want to wrap your legs around his narrow waist and let him fuck it into you, so that he would never be apart from you again. You never wanted to see another face ever again, after you saw his delicate features scrunched up in pleasure.

You’re so exhausted by your sneaking around, so sore from the splinters and scrapes, that you curl up right next to Yeonjun without showering off your night.

It’s a pity, that when Yeonjun wakes, long before you do, he doesn’t suspect a thing when he sees a twig clinging to the back of your shirt, or fresh mud on an old pair of your shoes. He trusts you, so wholeheartedly, that he pressed kisses on top of your exposed hickies—though not without noticing that they looked a lot darker than they did the last time he saw them.

—

“Excuse us, ma’am!” Two children—no older than ten and twelve—squeeze past you in the crowded aisle, the younger one brushing against a box of uncooked pasta and knocking it to the ground. Without a glance backwards, they speed off towards a tired looking couple with a shopping cart full of sugary cereal and cheap plastic toys. It’s then that you register the name that one of the kids called you, and you’re disgruntled—do you really look that old? You catch a glimpse of yourself on the reflective surface of a colorful advertisement standee, and frown at your appearance, feeling older and more out of place than ever.

You toss a box of uncooked pasta into your cart and go forth, braving the chilly aisles of the grocery store without your jacket, which you stupidly left in the car, thinking that you’d be fine. You make a mental note to never trust the temperature again.

As you’re studying the nearly identical packages of grapes, a pale hand reaches for the same bag you were going for. The both of you spring back, surprised, and you lock eyes with Karina.

“Oh!” you exclaim. You try to make yourself say hello, but there’s already been an awkward silence after your surprised outburst.

She smiles, unaffected, and says, “Hello, (Y/N). How have you been?”

Damn her perfect ability to navigate a conversation.

“Hey, Karina!” you say, crossing your arms to try and mimic a comfortable position. “I’ve been good! Just busy, moving and stuff, you know. What about you?”

She laughs, the same delicate laugh that makes your stomach jump with excitement, before replying. “I’m good too! Trying to soak up the last few weeks of summer, then everything starts up again. This place really revolves around the kids, you know? When school starts again, it feels like the whole town just wakes up after a long sticky summer nap.” She pauses. “Oh, I’m rambling.” A little embarrassed even though you’re clearly not offended, she places a delicate hand over her chest. A pretty silver ring sparkles on her fourth finger.

You shake your head, assuring her that it’s fine, that she’s right anyways, but you’re staring at her ring the whole time. She notices, gaze following yours and quickly flickering down to her hand, and smiles broadly. “Oh! Did I tell you last time? I’m married now!” she exclaims. Her cheeks are pink, flushed with excitement. Clearly, she was very happy in her relationship, eager to talk about it. The very thought of your own relationship now made a rock appear in your stomach—a heavy, dark, massive boulder that weighed you down and made you sick.

“Congratulations!” you say, and you both share a little moment right there in the fruit and vegetable aisle—it makes you miss your girl friends from back home, and you again wonder if it would have been possible to be friends with Karina way back when. If that would have made things different. Better, even.

“Thank you, thank you.” She looks down, trying to hide her wide smile, and brushes a long lock of her dark hair behind her ear. “He’s the best.”

“That’s sweet, I’m really happy for you,” you say, and you find that you actually really mean it. You exchange goodbyes as the conversation naturally trails off, and head off in opposite directions—both of you carrying a bag of grapes, neither one being the initial same choice.

As soon as you get into the car and place your hands on the steering wheel, your phone starts ringing, and you groan and reach over to fumble around in your purse for the vibrating device.

“Hello?” you ask, answering the call, which you now see is from Yeonjun. You feel the rock in your stomach press down harder on the sensitive walls of your stomach lining, and you wince.

“Hey, babe,” he coos, “are you on your way back yet?”

“Yeah, just finished grocery shopping,” you say honestly, propping your purse back up. You work on tossing the mess back into the open mouth of the bag; you ended up spilling an expired container of Tic-Tacs all over the passenger seat when you tried to feel around for your phone.

“Good! I was thinking that maybe we could go on a drive tonight?”

You freeze up, a handful of fruit flavored mints falling from your hand. “Why?” you ask carefully.

“No reason, I just… I guess I just miss spending time with you alone,” he confesses. “As much as I love your parents, and this place, it’s not the same. I’m excited for us to go back home, and for things to go back to normal.”

Your heart aches at the melancholy, tired voice on the other end of the line. “We leave soon, babe,” you assure him, “we’re almost done here.”

“I know, I know—I’m sorry, I’m complaining. This is a lot for you, I shouldn’t be wrapped up in my own feelings.”

“No, no! I understand, I do, and I miss you too. Look, the drive sounds good. I’ll be back soon, and as soon as I finish putting the groceries away we can leave. Does that sound okay?” Your grip on the phone tightens, and you feel guilty. If not for the complete betrayal, then because you’d genuinely been neglecting him since you got home too.

“Yes, it does.” He sounds content, relieved even, and you smile to yourself as you say goodbye and hang up. You place your hands back on the steering wheel, and take a deep breath as you head home, away from Mr. Kim’s grocery store—which is now owned by his son. Another small change, another thing that makes you feel like you never knew this town in the first place.

Outside, the sun is setting. Orange and pink bleed through your cracked windows, painting warm stripes across your body. The air is warm and thick, almost soupy from the humidity, but it feels familiar and comforting.

Yeonjun is baking again when you return, the same flowered apron that’s too short on his lanky frame tied in a messy pink bow at his back. He’s pulling a tray of cookies out of the oven when you push the door open, hands full of groceries.

“Welcome back!” he exclaims, quickly putting down the cookies to rush to your aid. Gratefully, you hand off a few bags. Yeonjun bustles around the vanilla scented kitchen, putting things away quickly as you dust off your hands and sneak a cookie from the tray. Sweetness floods across your tongue as you bite into one. It’s still a little too warm, the center burning your tongue a tad and the rest of the treat falling apart in your hands. “They’re not cooled yet!” he scolds, finally noticing your struggle.

“Couldn’t help it, they looked too good,” you say around a mouthful of cookie, and he rolls his eyes before walking over and planting a peck on your messy lips.

“I’ll finish up here, you do what you need to do,” he says, kneeling down to sift through the remaining few bags. He shoos you away as you cram the rest of the cookie into your mouth, giggling.

Really, you don’t need to go off and do anything. You already had everything in your purse. So all you did was check your reflection quickly before walking back into the kitchen, where Yeonjun has finished putting the groceries away and is hanging up the beloved frilly apron.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Sure am.”

He grins, wraps an arm around your shoulders like he always does, and presses a kiss to your temple. The two of you don’t bother to close the windows or lock the door, because it’s a small town where everyone knows everyone. It’s still a bit unnerving for Yeonjun, who has always lived in the city. He was brought up sternly, always told by his parents that if he ever left a door unlocked or a window open, someone evil would surely get in. And in the city, that’s not too far of an assumption. That was probably Yeonjun’s least favorite part about you—if he had to choose. Though you were much better about it now, for the longest time he saw you as a little country mouse lost in a big city. You would leave the door of your dorm room open all day after leaving for class. You would often leave the windows unlocked overnight. One warm autumn evening while going out for dinner with some friends, you left your window completely open and Yeonjun was the one that found the intruder under your bed. To be fair, the intruder was a rather chunky squirrel who didn’t have the gymnastic ability to hurl himself back up onto the window ledge, but still. You remember all of this fondly, as you watch Yeonjun double check that the front door is closed in the rear view mirrors before pulling away from your house.

The sun seemed to be taking its sweet time, wanting to give a magnificent show to anyone who spared the time to watch. You stare down at the small clouds of reddish dirt being spit up by the wheels of your car, then refocus your attention on the splendid landscape before you. The warmth of the setting sunlight bled golden everywhere, turning the green grass a springy hazy shade and shining rays of sparkles onto any moving creature. A pair of songbirds flew by quickly, twittering and warbling a good night song as golden light danced across their waxy feathers. You squint at the tree that the birds have landed in, and you gasp as you recognize it. “Jun,” you plead, “can we stop by the blackberry bushes? It’s just the right time to pick them.”

“Blackberry bushes?” Yeonjun exclaims, “you don't have to tell me twice.”

“You sound like my dad when you say stuff like that,” you groan as he pulls off to the side of the road.

“I am honored. He is a fine gentleman,” Yeonjun insists goofily, watching you with adoring eyes as you leap out of the car and into the meadow.

“It’s just past this tree,” you claim, pointing to the very same tree that the two birds landed in earlier. “I used to come here with—I used to come here all the time,” you said, stumbling over your words. Your mouth feels dirty, almost saying Beomgyu’s name aloud, and in front of Yeonjun too.

If Yeonjun notices, he doesn’t say anything about it. He lets you lead him past the tree with the gnarled bark and further into a thicket of younger trees. Your grasp on his hand tightens as you spot the patch of bushes, their branches heavy with fruit. You bound ahead, letting go of his hand and plucking a few large berries, the dark juices staining your fingertips. Yeonjun walks up beside you, pulling a large handkerchief out of his pocket and holding it out to you. You pile on blackberries immediately, knowing that was why he was offering it.

“Your lips are purple,” Yeonjun says accusingly, using his free hand to point at your face. You feel your cheeks heat up slightly; you’re embarrassed for acting so juvenile and stuffing your face with blackberries.

“And yours aren’t,” you say in the same tone. His eyes flicker from your lips then back to your eyes. You feel your heartbeat speed up as he gently sets the handkerchief of berries down on the soft grass before scooping you into his arms and pressing his lips to yours.

“So sweet,” he murmurs against your purple lips jokingly.

“I told you it was blackberry season,” you retort, giggling as you feel him squeeze your hips.

You keep the handkerchief of blackberries in your lap for the rest of the ride, crying out when Yeonjun would reach over and slap your fingers away as you tried to sneak another berry into your mouth. “I want to use those in some scones!” he insisted playfully.

The lightheartedness of the banter and the gorgeous golden light painting your hometown in nostalgia was an escape. It was almost like you were back home with Yeonjun in your apartment, looking back on fond memories you shared together. The setting outside your window looked fake because of the dreamy haze, and you wished you could freeze in this perfect moment with the perfect man. Everything in the snapshot would be perfect; it wouldn’t capture the thoughts that plagued your mind as soon as you stepped out of the car and looked up at your childhood home. Guilt, pain, and hurt bloomed in your chest as Yeonjun parked the car and took you by the waist, so that the two of you could walk back inside together. You masked the guilt of another man’s touch behind a smile, but it didn’t last long. As soon as you looked up, your blood ran cold. An ambulance was parked right in front of your house, and the front door had been thrown wide open.

Yeonjun grabs your hand as you both run up the front stairs and into the house. You see your father sitting on the floor of the kitchen, an oxygen mask covering his lower face. Your mother sits a small distance away from him, her face gray and her lips pressed into a thin line. An EMT pats your father on the shoulder before mumbling something to your mother and nodding at you and Yeonjun on his way out. The ambulance pulls away, luckily without a patient inside.

“What was that?” you blurt out, running up to your father, who is having trouble standing up on his own. His face looks gray too.

Your parents exchange worried looks before they look back at you. “Sweetheart,” your mother coaxes, “remember when your father fell off that ladder a few months ago?”

“Yes, but you told me everything was okay. Isn’t it?” you ask in a small voice that sounds childish, naive, and stupid—even to you. You feel Yeonjun stiffen beside you, and you turn to look at him. He’s always been bad at hiding things, so you immediately know. “You knew this whole time,” you say to Yeonjun, pulling away from him.

“Doll,” he says pleadingly, his eyebrows furrowed with pity and regret.

“We didn’t want to upset you,” your mother clarified, “it happened right before you and Yeonjun got engaged, and we didn’t want to spoil anything.”

“That wouldn’t have spoiled it!” you say shrilly. “I would have come to help you and Dad if I knew!”

“We knew you would, that’s why we didn’t tell you. It took so much planning and time and effort for Yeonjun to plan things out for the proposal and we didn’t want to ruin the mood before or after, and by then months had already passed…” your mother trailed off.

“I’m your daughter, I’m supposed to help you when things like that go wrong,” you say, feeling your eyes starting to well up with tears, though you’re not completely sure why. “And why does Yeonjun know, and I don’t? It would have been his planning that got ruined, not mine.”

“It was an accident,” your father says abruptly, and you see that he’s been able to stand up on his own. He leans against the kitchen table heavily. “Your mother accidentally ordered my medication to your address and Yeonjun was the one that found it.”

“Autumn Oaks will be good for them,” Yeonjun pipes up, trying to help. “They’ll get all the help they need there.”

Your eyes almost bulge out of your skull. “Autumn Oaks? The assisted living facility in town?” you ask. You pick your brain for the moment you first heard the name, and then you get it—Karina. “Even Karina knew before I did?” you fret.

“Karina? Nurse Yoo?” your dad asks.

“You know her?”

“She works there. She’s actually the one that showed us around. Do you know her?” your mother asks. She seems very nervous now, clearly due to your building emotions.

“I went to school with her,” you mumbled. Your head absolutely aches, and you stare out the front door, still hanging wide open, into the dark night that had crept up on the four of you since you got home. “I need to go for a walk,” you say. Your parents again exchange looks. “I’m not mad,” you snap, “I just need a minute to process everything.”

You feel Yeonjun start to follow you timidly, but you look back at him with narrowed eyes. “Alone,” you emphasize, and he shrinks back and lets you go.

Luckily, you had the sense to hang onto your purse the entire time, and you fumble through it for your cigarettes and a lighter. You shove one into your mouth and light it, tossing the box and the lighter back inside the mess of your bag. You don’t know where you’re walking, but the night is warm and muggy and you can feel insects swarming. You want to go back home and take a long hot shower, especially as you feel a bead of sweat slip down your back, but you don’t want to face everyone again. You feel like an idiot for acting like an emotional child, and you don’t know why you have been ever since you got back to your hometown. It was like you were reverting back to the person you were the last time you stayed that long. As if simply breathing the air and drinking the water were enough to take away ten years.

You stop walking naturally in front of a house. A large, old tree stands strong in the front yard, casting a large black shadow over the whole space. Though it’s been repainted a new color—a light beige, instead of the misty blue it once was—it still feels like your second home. You’re very sure that Beomgyu doesn’t live here any more, mostly because he said he hated bland paint colors and you simply couldn’t picture the Choi Beomgyu living in a beige house of all places. But also because your parents had told you that his parents moved out years ago and retired somewhere sunny and warm, leaving the family business to Beomgyu, who was more than willing to take over it by then. They had no news about where Beomgyu had moved to.

You feel like a freak, just standing outside someone’s house like a stalker, so you turn on your heel and start to walk away, when someone says, “hey,” in a low voice.

The front door of the blue-turned-beige house opens, and Beomgyu stands there in pajama pants and a thin white t-shirt. “Why the fuck are you here?” he says, mimicking the voice you used when he appeared on your roof.

“Shut up.”

“I’m joking. Come inside already. Aren’t the mosquitos pissing you off?” He steps aside and opens the door wider, motioning for you to come inside.

So you do.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting when you step inside. Maybe, you expected it to look exactly how it did the last time you saw it, with his parents’ furniture and decorations and family pictures on the walls. There’s a few hints of the old decor as you look around and focus on a few minor details, but for the most part it looks completely different. New furniture, more modern and young, paintings on the wall that definitely weren’t there before. There’s even an entire wall missing, the one that separated the kitchen and the front room entirely. Something about an open concept, you think solemnly, recalling an episode of HGTV you watched when you were too drunk to get up and get the remote to change the channel.

“It looks different in here,” you say bluntly.

“Well, my parents don’t live here any more, do they?” he asks cockily. “Come on, let’s go up to the bedroom. The old house still doesn’t have AC, but my bedroom has a really good fan.”

The stairs creak the same way they did when you ran down them sobbing the last time you were there. It’s bittersweet, and you hold yourself back from rolling your eyes at your old dramatic self.

Beomgyu’s right about the fan, at least. The bedroom is much cooler than the rest of the house, and it’s cast in a cold bright light from the flatscreen TV mounted on his wall, facing the foot of his bed. “Nice place,” you say, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Did you get an interior designer or something to help you with all this?”

“Or something,” he says, shrugging. He gets in bed too, patting the spot beside him once he got comfortable. You inch forward, a bit awkwardly. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel like a middle school girl sitting next to her crush at the movies or something equally as corny and butterfly-inducing.

Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you and pull you in closer, so that your legs are draped over his and his hand rests on your waist. His big hand starts to slip under your shirt, toying with the hem and teasing you. He already knows why you came to him; he can see that you’re upset. He rightfully assumes that Yeonjun is a part of the reason, and he knows that you want him to take his place, even if it’s just for a night.

Boldly, you take his hand that’s teasing you and place it firmly over your breast. Beomgyu stops pretending to watch whatever is playing on his TV and looks at you, a crooked smirk on his face. “That’s why you’re here,” he says, wanting a verbal confirmation.

“‘Course it is. No one knows how to comfort me better than you do.”

“Not even Yeonjun?” Beomgyu can’t help but ask, venom lacing his words. He can’t hide his jealousy, even when he thinks he can. It always comes spilling forth from his lips like sick word vomit.

“Not even Yeonjun,” you whisper as he closes the distance between your lips, unsure if you’re lying or not.

It’s not as frantic this time, because you know you have time. No one is expecting you home anytime soon, and Beomgyu doesn’t seem to have anything going on either. It’s a sudden but welcome change; the soft sheets instead of the splintering wood of the train car, the cool controlled breeze instead of the sweltering mugginess, the silence of closed walls instead of the risk of open air.

You let Beomgyu take off your shirt and shorts, and you settle between his legs as he whips off his own top. You pull down his pajama pants and boxers in one fluid move, taking his cock in your hand and suckling on the head. The saltiness of his precum coats your tongue as you swallow it down, your nose pressing against his crotch as his hand gently presses on your head, wordlessly begging you to take it all. It’s better than you imagined, and you’d imagined it many times.

His breathing grows ragged as you start jerking him off, his dick slippery with your saliva, and you take one of his balls into your mouth. His eyes roll back in his head as you do so, and he groans loudly. “I knew you’d be good at this,” he pants as you take his length back into your mouth.

You make a noise of confusion, the vibrations making him whimper.

“I just wanted you so bad,” he babbles, “I knew—I knew no matter what, I’d never forget—” His eyes squeeze shut as he cums, and you hollow your cheeks and swallow, eliciting a high-pitched squeak from him due to the slight overstimulation. Shaking, he opens his eyes to look down at you, and you sit back up obediently, using a finger to push a small pearly rivulet of cum into your mouth; it had been dripping down your chin.

“You’d never forget?” you asked, crawling up to him on all fours. Beomgyu feels his cock jump again as he stares at you taking off your underclothes, and he grips your hips tightly, squeezing the flesh there and exhaling deeply.

“I won’t,” he says breathily, as if he’s making a promise to you, “I won't ever forget.”

You press your forehead to his, feeling his sweaty bangs stick to your skin. The two of you stay like that for just a moment as his heavy breathing slows, and then he slowly reaches up to caress your cheek and pull you in for a kiss. He shifts beneath you, his muscles flexing as he lifts you up and tosses you down onto the soft mattress so that he’s the one on top now.

“I was having fun up there,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist. You can feel his dick, half-hard, nudge against your clit.

“I think you’ll have fun down here too,” he says with a wink, as he presses sloppy kisses down your neck. Your toes curl as his warm breath ghosts over your nipple; he’s making his way down your body, making sure to worship every inch of your skin with his slick lips. He can’t help but flick your nub with his tongue, watching your reaction as you flinch at the unexpected contact. He envelopes your nipple and the surrounding area into his mouth, suckling hard and making your toes curl with pleasure as he grinds against you simultaneously. His teeth graze against your skin, eliciting a low moan that erupts from deep inside, so animalistic you hardly recognize yourself. You realize that with Beomgyu, unfamiliar parts of you emerge and take charge—both parts that remind you of your youth, as well as parts that you’d never met before, or even knew existed at all.

A string of saliva, glistening in the faint bluish light, connects his lips and your breast for just a second before it breaks. He looks up at you with big doll eyes and smirks, a juxtaposition of innocence and naughtiness, before mouthing the valley between your breasts and kissing his way down to your navel, then between your legs. Beomgyu’s words echo in your mind as you flush with slight embarrassment, realizing he’s staring straight at your sopping cunt with great interest. The fact that you’d both been taking your time this time around made you much more aware that he was perceiving you just as much as you were perceiving him, and that thought was making you just a bit anxious.

After all these years, he can still read you like a book. He feels your thighs tense up as he gently slides a calloused finger through your slick, and though he thinks your pussy might be the prettiest one he’s ever seen, he stops, and makes eye contact with you. Your brow is slightly furrowed, your lips pressed together—a sure sign that you’re worried about something. “Everything okay?” he asks, wiping his finger on his sheets. “You look like you’re thinking long and hard about something.”

“More like I’m thinking about something that’s long and hard.” You catch his eye for a split second before you start to grin and he bursts out laughing.

“You had me there,” he admits, settling back between your legs. “I thought you were having your reservations.”

“What, you thought I wouldn’t want to double dip or something?”

Beomgyu shakes his head, trying to suppress a smile. “I’m trying to go down on you and be all sexy, and you’re making jokes that align with the humor of an immature thirteen year old boy.”

“Sorry, I do that when I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be. It’s just me.” You lock eyes with him, but this time it sends a real chill down your spine. Different from the chills that you got when you saw him at the reunion and he handed you your keys. It was so much more than just those five words that he spoke aloud—in that phrase, he cemented the fact that you two have history, and that there is so much meaning in the actions that you’re committing together. It’s just Beomgyu—but how can he be “just” Beomgyu when your feelings about him have been the exact opposite forever? It’s never been simple. He’s never been “just” Beomgyu.

Your clouded mind is suddenly cleared when you feel his lips connect to your clit and he starts suckling roughly, similarly to how he was attached to your nipple earlier. You can feel his teeth biting at your cunt, teasing it with little flashes of pain that make your back arch and your thighs start to close in on his face. He holds your legs apart, devouring you like he’ll never have the pleasure of tasting you again, and knowing that that could be the reality. You feel a mixture of his spit and your juices running down your inner thighs and soaking the sheets beneath you, but you hardly care. You want to leave a mark in his bed, in his house—in that moment, you want it to be known that you were there.

You finish as he plunges his thick fingers into you and curls them upwards just right, and your moan catches in your throat. You almost choke on it, a few stuttering gasps being the only thing that escape your lips as you come down from your high.

Before you can fully reorient yourself, Beomgyu’s sliding his cock against your slippery pussy, whining like a bitch. He’s too embarrassed to ask if he can fuck you, but you know he wants to. You want it too, but unlike him you’re not afraid to say it. “Please,” you whisper, just like you did in the woods, “please.”

Without another word, he’s pushing into you, which is quite easy given how much lubricant there is. He grips the headboard of his bed, his knuckles turning pale from the effort, as he waits for you to tell him to go on. You reach for him and he listens immediately, almost giddy as you pull him close. You want to feel his sweat on your skin, have his spit in your mouth, feel his stuttered breaths as he gets close.

He slips a pillow under your hips before readjusting himself, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable, before he starts drilling his hips into you.

The way he fucks reminds you a bit of your hookups in college, before you got with Yeonjun. The desperation, a bit of inexperience, and the quick but deep thrusts are all too reminiscent—but in a good way. It’s different, than the way that you’d been fucked by Yeonjun all these years, and you realize that you’ve missed it. The carnal urge to just fuck like animals, without caring about staining the sheets or worrying about someone hearing you.

You don’t realize just how far you’ve shifted until your head is hanging over the side of his bed, and your eyes are level with his nightstand. You can feel him getting close already—which you’re not surprised by, given how long he’s been waiting for it—and you’re getting close yourself until you lock eyes with a framed picture sitting beside his lamp. He groans loudly as he slams his hips into yours one more time, and you can’t help but gasp as you feel him filling you up, but your eyes are focused on the picture. It’s upside down, because of the angle you’re at, but it’s pretty obvious what it is. You don’t need to be right-side-up to know that it’s a wedding photo. And not just any wedding photo either—it’s a picture of Beomgyu and Karina.

It hits you like a ton of bricks. You’re the other woman, just as he’s the other man. You try to sit up, forgetting that he’s still hovering above you and trying to recover from having two orgasms quite close together, and smack your forehead into his.

“Ow!” he exclaims, pulling out of you and sitting back.

“You’re married!” you blurt out, scrambling away from him. His gaze drops to the photograph on his nightstand, and he wrinkles his nose guiltily.

“Well—yeah… But you’re engaged.” This time, it’s your gaze that drops—and you look down at the diamond ring on your finger. There’s a deep, gnawing pain that’s arising in your stomach, and you know what it is immediately. Guilt, so thick and dark you swear anyone who looks at you could see it seeping from your very pores, is tearing you apart. You feel yourself tearing up, which is somewhat ridiculous because you’d known this whole time that you were cheating. You weren’t an idiot and you weren’t manipulated either—you were a completely conscious and self-aware asshole that chose to cheat on her fiancé with her first love. And so was he.

You furiously wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand and stand up, crossing your arms over your chest as you scan the room for your clothes. You go around and pick up your garments one by one and put them on, and Beomgyu watches you solemnly. Neither of you say anything until you’re fully dressed and he’s at least pulled on his boxers and pants. You stand there at the foot of his—no, his and Karina’s king-sized bed, and glare at him. It’s hypocritical to be mad at him for cheating when you’ve been doing the exact same thing, but for some reason that’s how your brain is functioning.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” you asked, staring at the floor. You don’t know if you’ll cry or fall for him harder if you look into his eyes again. You fear that it might be both.

“I don’t know. It just never came up,” he says lamely. You narrow your eyes at his half-assed reply.

“I helped you cheat on her.”

“So what? I’ve been helping you cheat on Yeonjun. How’s this any worse than that? In the end we’re both just assholes.”

“Because I know Karina! She was the closest thing I had to a girl friend here in town!” you exclaim, “It's not like you know Yeonjun—you don’t care about hurting him. I care about hurting Karina!”

“But you don’t care about hurting your own fiancé?” Beomgyu rubs the back of his neck, confused, and stares at the floor. “I don’t get you.”

“That’s not the point,” you mutter, “but it doesn’t matter. Whatever. It’s already done, and like you said, we’re both the assholes in the end.” You can feel his cum leaking out of your cunt and pooling in your underwear. You want to go home and shower, without anyone seeing you or talking to you. You briskly walk over to his bathroom while rummaging in your purse for something to touch up your disheveled appearance.

You’re wiping at the makeup that’s started to slide off your eyes with a dry makeup wipe you found at the bottom of your purse when Beomgyu appears behind you in the mirror. He’s still shirtless, and somehow still beautiful in the shitty bathroom lighting. You stop your futile attempts to fix your appearance and stare at his reflection with weary eyes. He wraps his arms around you and presses a long kiss to the top of your head as he inhales your scent and takes it all in, knowing that you won’t return. You let him.

“I just got you back,” he mumbles, “and now you’re leaving again.”

“I wasn’t ever planning on staying. I wasn’t even planning on seeing you again,” you say firmly, though it’s obvious when your voice shakes that you hardly believe your own words.

“But you did,” he whispers. “Doesn’t that mean something? Doesn’t—doesn’t the fact that you’re standing here in my house, in my shirt, with my cum leaking out of you, mean something?”

You look down. You are, in fact, wearing his shirt. Somehow you must have pulled it on instead of your own. Even worse, you recognize it as an old band t-shirt that he used to wear in high school. You shake your head and pull it off, throwing it aside as you walk back to his bedroom and find your own shirt crumpled in a mess on his floor.

Looking wounded, Beomgyu appears in the doorway, clutching his abandoned shirt. “Are you really leaving?”

“Well, I don’t know when Karina will be back but I don’t want her to see me sleeping on her side of the bed,” you say coldly, “and I have a fiancé I need to get back to.”

“A fiancé who doesn’t know his future wife is a dirty cheater,” Beomgyu says, glaring at you. You see tears in his eyes, the hurt evident on his face.

“Don’t start that shit with me,” you snap. “And don’t contact me ever again.”

“I did a pretty good job avoiding you for ten years. What’s another ten, twenty, thirty more?” Beomgyu spits back, but his tears start to spill out and he turns away, not knowing you already saw them.

But you don’t care. You don’t want to care. So you gather your things and you go, slamming his front door so hard that the stained glass wind chimes hanging on his front porch fall and shatter on the wooden floor. You don’t even give the mess a second glance as you stomp down the stairs and down the path home.

The lights are all off, except for one. Your bedroom light is on, and you know that Yeonjun must have left it on. Whether he’s awake or not, he was waiting for you, and that makes the guilt sink into your stomach even further. You didn’t know it was possible to feel even worse than you did while you were laying in Beomgyu’s bed.

As quiet as possible, you unlock the front door and close it behind you, re-locking it and wincing as the heavy iron lock clicks into place. You creep up the stairs and peek around the corner, sighing with relief when you realize that your bedroom door is closed. You’re allowed to slip into the bathroom and wash yourself of all the evidence of Beomgyu before being confronted by anyone. Usually, you’re plagued with thoughts in the shower—whether that’s stress about work or dinner plans for the night, your mind is always running as you shampoo your hair. Tonight, it’s the opposite. You feel blank and numb as you rinse yourself and step out of the tub, toweling yourself dry before tiptoeing down the hallway and letting yourself into your bedroom.

Yeonjun is wedged against the wall in your childhood bedroom, leaving space for you in your little twin bed. You’re realizing just now how bare the room looks—everything is gone except for the bed and the little nightstand, where Yeonjun’s glasses and your cup of water live every night. He’s scrolling on his phone but he looks up immediately when he hears the door, and his face lights up when he realizes it’s you. “Welcome back,” he says carefully, not wanting to breach the subject unless you propose it.

You leap into his arms, feeling the guilt twisting your stomach into knots as he presses warm kisses to your clean skin. “I went to a friend’s house,” you clarify, “and we just smoked and sat there for a while. I just needed to get away for a minute.”

“Okay,” Yeonjun says, rubbing your arms comfortingly, “thank you for telling me.”

“It was an acquaintance from high school. Her name is Minjeong.”

Though he didn’t ask who the friend was, you can see relief flood across his face as he realizes it wasn’t Beomgyu—or even another guy. “I’m glad that you feel better now,” he says, pressing a kiss to your naked collarbone. You slide off his lap and get dressed, tossing the towel onto the floor.

“Come to bed,” he coaxes, “it’s nice and cozy.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you reply, sidling in next to him. As soon as you lay down, he wraps an arm around you and kisses your cheek. “I love you,” you say, desperate for him to say it back, even though you know he will—from his knowledge, he has no reason to doubt you at all.

“I love you too doll,” he mumbles sleepily, and then he’s gone. Asleep, dead to the world, no nasty thoughts plaguing his mind.

Unlike Yeonjun, you lay there awake for hours, unable to fall asleep for a multitude of reasons. Even worse, you know that most of these reasons are your own fault, and that guilt is eating you alive. Every single thought that you had managed to avoid in the shower was haunting you now, forcing your eyelids to stay open and keeping your heartbeat racing.

—

On the last morning that you will ever spend in your childhood home, you are awakened in the early hours of the morning by a massive moving truck trying to parallel park right beside your driveway. Yeonjun is already stirring, both from the noise outside as well as your movements, and he blinks hard as his eyes adjust to the bleary light. It’s so early that the sun hasn’t fully risen yet, and you can see from your window that the late summer has given birth to a smattering of dewdrops stricken across the greenery, giving it a haunting, blurred look. The palest of sunlight spreads across the land, a subtle “good morning” before the dry heat that’s sure to come once the quiet early morning hours wither away. Your parents are shuffling about downstairs, pushing all of the boxes and furniture into the front room so that the movers can have easy access and you can all hopefully be out by the designated time. The faint smell of dark roast coffee reaches your nose, and it reminds you of the youthful years you spent here, and how you got so used to that smell of coffee in the morning. When did you forget about it? When did you adopt a new norm?

Yeonjun presses a sleepy kiss to your cheek before climbing over you and claiming the bathroom first, and you hear the shower turn on. He’s always been a morning person, whereas you prefer to bathe during the night. It works out well in your apartment, where you only have one bathroom. You glance down at your phone, which has coincidentally given you an update on a few places the two of you had been looking to move. The crowded apartment, though now nostalgic and homey, is simply too small now. You’ve outgrown it.

You busy yourself with cleaning up a few stray clothing items scattered across the hardwood floor, your bare feet making small pattering sounds as you walk about. It’s hard to sort between your clothes and Yeonjun’s clothes—you tend to share a lot of garments, and you have a similar taste.

As soon as you zip up your own suitcase and sit down with a huff, Yeonjun strolls back into the room, a towel clinging to his waist and another slung around his neck. He uses one end to rub at his dripping locks, and you jump up to escape to the bathroom, suddenly very aware of where you were last night, as well as the fact that you’re unsure how to further explain yourself if anyone asks. “I’ll be down in a few,” you say to him, “I’ll help bring down our suitcases and everything.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it,” he says, shaking his head. “Take your time. Your parents have coffee on the table too if you need some.”

“When did you have time to go and say good morning to them?” you exclaim, your voice echoing down the empty hallway.

“I didn’t! I just know!” he yells back, and that makes your skin prickle. The ease of Yeonjun becoming a part of your family—it makes you feel that guilt even more. How could you take him away from your parents now? How could you take your parents from him?

Once you’re done washing the sleep away from yourself, you get dressed and frown at the room that’s now completely empty. You’d heard people coming up and down the steps, but you didn’t think they’d touch your room. Now, even the bed that you’d just slept in was gone. For a moment, you stand there in your bedroom alone. Though, you suppose you can’t even really call it that any more—you don’t possess it. How long has it been since it was really yours anyways? A decade? More? Less? You try to hold your emotions back, because it’s just a house, but it’s to no avail. You have to return to the bathroom and wipe your tears carefully with your sleeve while staring in the mirror and realizing just how much your reflection has changed.

“Are you sure? We can stay and help, it’s no problem,” Yeonjun’s voice echoes up the stairs. You sidle into the kitchen and stand in the doorway, looking at your parents and your fiancé. They’re standing across from each other in the kitchen, all holding steaming mugs of coffee.

“Oh, don’t worry about us. We don’t want you to miss your flight,” your mother insists, “the movers said they could help us just fine. They’ve been moving a lot of folks into Autumn Oaks lately.”

Your chest clenches a bit at the thought of your parents in assisted living—were they really that old already? They seem perfectly capable, aside from the incident with your father. You suppose that’s reason enough to consider assisted living.

“Okay, but call immediately if you need anything,” Yeonjun says warily, placing his empty mug down on the kitchen counter. “I’m going to call a car.”

He ruffles your hair when he notices you standing in the doorway, and then walks out. This leaves you with your parents, the both of them standing there and smiling at you. You know it’s because of Yeonjun. You know they wholeheartedly think you’re safe with him, and that he’s your forever. Who are you to say he isn’t?

“We really can stay and help you guys,” you offer again, but your father shakes his head.

“And we told you we can handle it,” he says softly, “you have a flight to catch.”

Your shoulders sag as you sigh. Perhaps, you weren’t only wanting to stay for your parents. You don’t want to let go of the house, of your aging parents, of Beomgyu. You don’t want to let go of your hometown, even though you hate it so much. And even though Autumn Oaks was just a drive away, hardly even separate from your hometown, it still felt like the end of an era, a disconnect, a severing of the last attachment you had to your childhood and everything that came with it. You got your closure, and that was what you wanted—so why did it feel wrong? For the first time in so many years, you feel like you’ve made bad decisions that you cannot come back from.

“Okay,” you say. “It was really nice seeing you. And I guess—to see the house one last time.” You will your emotions to stay under control. “I’m going to miss you.”

“We always miss you too,” your mother says, pulling you into a hug. “But we’ll see you come Christmas, won’t we? Maybe we can come and visit you and Yeonjun in the city this year.”

“That would be really nice, Mom,” you whisper as she lets go. She stands back, still holding onto your arms, and looks at you.

“You’ve grown so much. We’re so proud of you,” your dad says, and it’s like he’s reading your mother’s mind as a tear trickles down her face. The three of you briefly embrace, a final wordless reminder of every memory that you had together in that house, and then you blink and it’s all gone.

Yeonjun comes for you when the car pulls up outside, and before you know it you’re staring out the airplane window, looking at all the miniature houses down below. You’re finally going back home, but you know you left a piece of yourself in your hometown, and you’ll never see her again.

Maybe that’s for the better.

EPILOGUE.

Yoo Jimin, known most commonly by her nickname Karina, is fucking exhausted.

It’s the first snow of the year, she’s worked two double night shifts in one week, and she’s trying her damn best to get the household ready for the holiday season. She’s a woman who knows what she wants, and though this means she takes charge and gets shit done, it also means she burns out. Fast. And frequently.

Her vision is slightly blurry on her drive home from Autumn Oaks, where she’d been busy tending to two new residents. They had made sure to try and shoo her away, claiming that they were just fine on their own and getting settled in, but it was her job to check in on them every now and then. She groans aloud in her car, thinking about how much she wanted to sink into a hot bath and just be alone for a while.

The windshield wipers obediently push the fat snowflakes gathering on the glass away and out of sight as she pulls into her driveway. At least it looks cozy from the outside, as she’d made sure to tell her husband to put up the Christmas lights outside. He did, and they were twinkling warmly at her as she stepped out of the car.

She knows that Beomgyu is sleeping. He sleeps a lot, and not just because she tends to work nights and he always works days, but because he’s been avoiding her.

It was a natural conclusion that she came to, and that would be just fine with her because she knows that marriage isn’t some perfect fairytale, but there’s something that’s been nagging at her for months now. Beomgyu had been acting normal until the end of summer, after the reunion. It was quite popular amongst the gossipy folks, mostly because of a certain quiet individual who had become vastly successful in her market after leaving town about ten years ago. She was by no means a celebrity, but her success and emerging personality was a pleasant surprise to a lot of people—Beomgyu included.

This was worrying for two reasons.

One, because everything lined up pretty perfectly with the last time she was in town.

And two, because she knew damn well, more than anyone else, of that individual’s history with Beomgyu.

Maybe that’s a bit of a stretch. Everyone who knew Beomgyu knew about her too. Everyone thought they’d get married and stay in town forever, so it was quite a shocker when they ended up fizzling out and she left for New York so abruptly. It’s a little odd that everyone’s still so obsessed with their failed love story, but small towns tend to hold onto any bit of drama they can get. When tornadoes bring in people from the past, it’s inevitable that a rainstorm of gossip will come along with it.

The house is quiet when she walks in. She sees Beomgyu asleep on the couch in front of the fireplace, which is only dying embers now. They glow a faint red, barely sparking, but are still exuding a fair bit of warmth. The entire house smells like firewood and sugar, the latter scent being courtesy to Beomgyu’s newfound hobby. Baking, of all things! Karina simply didn’t understand where it was coming from. This too began at the end of summer, when he declared that he was sick and tired of store bought treats (he’d never had a problem with them before) and that he was taking on the task of providing the two of them with fresh baked goods whenever they wanted.

He was horrible at it, for a while. He’d never baked anything edible in his life, and he went through a fair bit of money buying ingredients because of how often he would mess up and want to try again. If anything, his determination was what linked banking to his other interests. He had always been a stubborn asshole, especially when it came to working at the auto shop, previously owned by his father, and before that his grandfather.

But eventually, he got better. He liked to make muffins, and he would leave them out for Karina when she returned from her night shift, still warm to the touch—he’d often be awake well into the early hours of the morning to try and get a new recipe right. It was enough overlap that Karina, who got home around four in the morning, was able to get to them while they were still fresh. Eventually, this was the only was she ever felt warmth from her husband.

She walks over to the couch quietly. She had slipped off her shoes as soon as she walked through the door, wanting to keep the floors clean.

Beomgyu looked peaceful when he slept—a facial expression that never occurred naturally around her any more. She smoothed a lock of reddish brown hair out of his eyes, and he winced at the contact. She removed her touch from his face, but the damage was already done. Her husband opened his eyes, one before the other, and frowned in the firelight. “What time is it?” he asked. “Did you just get back?”

“Four fifteen,” she confirms, “what did you make tonight?”

“Blueberry streusel,” he replied, sitting up and yawning. He did not, however, move to go to sleep in their bed, with her.

“Muffins,” she said quietly, staring at the muffins, still steaming from the oven.

A silence settles upon the couple, in which nothing is heard but the howling winds outside and the faint crackling of the dying embers in the fireplace.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed—“

“I can’t live like this any more—“

The two of them stare at each other, both cut off by the other. “What do you mean you can’t live like this any more?” Karina asks sharply, any semblance of sleepiness immediately gone from her body. “What does that mean?”

Beomgyu rubs the sleep from his face and groans into his own grasp. “I just—I don’t think I’m happy like this.”

“With me,” Karina says, though it’s more of a question than anything. She already knows the answer.

“Just with everything. I feel like I’ve done nothing with my life,” he explains, ruffling his own hair. Her fingers twitch, wanting so desperately to run through those soft locks.

“What does that mean for us?” she asks in a small voice. She hates how meek she sounds.

Beomgyu shrugs, as if she’s simply asking him what he wanted for dinner. “I don’t know.”

She’s suddenly angry more than sad, but she feels tears coming to her eyes either way. “It’s because of her,” she spits, to which Beomgyu’s eyes widen. He already knows who she’s talking about.

“Who?” he asks, eyes darting around wildly.

“You know damn well who.”

Beomgyu doesn’t respond to his wife, and instead they stare at each other as a frigid cold settled over them. She couldn’t undo what she said, and he couldn’t undo what he did—that was that.

Silence ensued for the rest of the night, and in the morning when Beomgyu awoke again his wife was gone. He had a voicemail left by one of her friends, stating that she’d be around every now and then in the coming week to pick up Karina’s things little by little. Karina, it seemed, did not ever want to see Beomgyu again.

He understood that decision—honestly, he did. He felt guilty after he realized just how much warmth and love she had provided him, even if he never picked up on it before and surely took it for granted. There was a cold void left behind, and it was slowly overtaking the entire house.

Beomgyu didn’t know what else to do—what else could he do? With his wife gone, his auto shop mediocre at best, and no one important left in his life? Other than his parents, who had already retired and moved away years ago, he had absolutely no one left. All he had was shattered remnants of past relationships—and in grasping onto those shards desperately, not caring whether or not they cut into his flesh, he sold the house and used his funds to move to the city that never sleeps, in the hopes that someone somewhere would be able to wake him out of the waking nightmare he’d been living for the past decade.

DIVIDER CREDIT | @firefly-graphics

#kflixnet #k-labels #k-vanity #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu smut #txt x reader #txt smut #txt imagines #tomorrow x together imagines #beomgyu imagines #txt hard hours #beomgyu hard hours

675 notes · View notes

rosiehrs · 11 months

Text

mutual misunderstanding — kim chaewon

kim chaewon x fem!reader

yn: "it was a mutual decision." chaewon: "no, yeah, she dumped me."

SUMMARY ⤻ in which two exes understand their breakup differently; one thinks it was a mutual decision and the other thinks she got dumped. ultimately leading to two different stories being shared which in turn led to denial, then to animosity, then to unnecessary flings, then to jealousy, but essentially and predominantly – leading to heartbreak.

CONTENTS ⤻ smau, non!idol x reader, wlw, university au, angst, crack, mutual pining, exes to lovers, slow burn, miscommunication trope

WARNINGS ⤻ dark jokes, strong language, suggestive jokes, self-doubt, suggestive content, somewhat toxic relationship, will add more in the future!

FEATURING ⤻ le sserafim, hwang hyunjin (skz), ning yizhou (aespa), shin ryujin (itzy), no yunah (i'll-it), son jiwoo (r u next), chanelle moon (r u next), nishimura riki (enhypen), special appearances from aespa, ive, p1harmony and more!

STATUS ⤻ planning and ongoing

UPDATES ⤻ whenever i have time!

PLAYLIST ⤻

PROFILES! HOT BY SVT. mummy daycare.

CHAPTERS

01. glare

02. ignore her

03. hostile..?

04. sister help

more to come...

taglist (closed) comment on this post or send an ask to be added! @fuckkkkkklol @unforgivenangel @sserabey @sewiouslyz @beepboopeeboo @winieter @wallfl9wer @dodokus @petruchiosstuff @pandafuriosa60 @yoontoonwhs @yizhoutv @sxnooluvr @haerinkisser @dni-unavailable @bbanghanni @eccobe @isanggayfrog @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback @skriri @pinxeajin @haerinsloverr @chaerybae @limbforalimb @urfriendlylocalidiot @perfectsunlight @chaesgirl @kyuusberry @masuowo @newhairnewjeans @uzumakioden @thefckghost @sanajuicee @realrintaro @flolio @emphobics @jeindall777 @justme-idle @xen248 @lilacura @aeriniee @ryujinbrat @vampcharxter @juliesblogs @lovefooi @doodlelibrary @gayforalll @heavy12345 @kpooper-wya @wonyoluvr

#chaewon x reader #kim chaewon x reader #le sserafim x reader #izone x reader #kpop x reader #mu!smau #mu!masterlist #Spotify

712 notes · View notes

rosemaeridream · 1 year

Text

seem to need you. || aespa - kmj

kim minjeong x reader

warnings: jealous!minjeong, extremely mild thoughts of death, oblivious!reader? (or are you?), non-idol au, college? au, mj just wants you to herself, should ryujin be a warning??, mj can be toxic about you a teenie tiny bit but she knows

A/N: HAHA ik i said jealous!minjeong but mj is a sad-jealous person it cannot be helped (she's a loser in my mind) :) sorry for the wait, i was too busy playing minecraft

Synopsis: 'Seeing you with Shin Ryujin was definitely making her mind reel.'

wordcount: 4.8k

Minjeong watched you from the other side of the room. It was murky, a haze of smoke — thick against the walls, and the bitter smell of weed permeating the air. The couch where she sat was sticky, whether it be from its leathery skin or from some kind of liquid spilt, seeping into the surface and leaving her mildly uncomfortable, she wasn’t exactly sure. Parties weren’t particularly her thing, it was always hard to breathe through the layering grey of the marijuana and the thud of the bassy speakers forced her mind to claw at itself, wanting just a moment of silence.

Nor were parties something Minjeong attended very often, preferring to stay at home playing Animal Crossing or Mario Kart with her roommate. Strawberry Milkis on the coffee table, drifting joysticks shared between the two of them as they throw playful insults into the space between them. But, (and this was a rather large condition), if you asked her to kick it at a party with her?

Only heaven knows the date and time she’d say no to you.

And so, Minjeong is at a party, despite it not being her thing, despite not being able to breathe properly, despite her tasks to do in her Animal Crossing island, despite the beginning of a pounding headache, and especially despite the fact that you had ditched her an hour earlier to talk to, (‘more like flirt with’), Shin Ryujin. She grumbles at the sight, no - the near mention of Ryujin’s name.

What did she have that Minjeong didn’t?

A driver’s licence? Pshh, she knew you liked taking public transport to places, seeing the world from the ‘ant point of view’. And she knew you liked taking the train from the student accommodation to the gardens just for her to walk around and point out flowers to you. Or rest your head on her shoulder aboard the bus home from university, practically shifting your entire weight onto her after an especially confusing lecture. So a driver’s licence wasn’t the sticky gold star that you were looking for on Ryujin’s suitor report card.

Sulking in the confines of the couch cushions, Minjeong watched as you laughed at a joke Ryujin made. The brash way your laughs pierced through the thumping beat of the music made her stomach roll with queasiness; but it wasn’t that either. She could make you laugh till the sun rose. She could make you piss your pants or laugh hard enough that a stitch would form in your side. That was easy stuff. But the way your eyes sparkled, like the glitter you applied to your upper eyelid, or the snowflakes in your beanie at last year’s Christmas party, practically confirmed to Minjeong that Ryujin had something on her.

She eyes the way your hand travels to rest on Ryujin’s collarbone, allowing you to lean part of your weight on her while you recover your breath from her joke. The girl has a smug, relaxed grin spread across her mouth and looks completely enamoured with you. Ryujin’s hair had grown out over the summer, back to the length it had been when you were freshmen; glossy black hair stark against her skin. Minjeong had considered growing her hair out too, but you’d been so adamant that her bob was perfect on her, that she’d chopped it off all over again - well, you had chopped it off. The hair had danced and twirled around her as you perfected her fringe, your eyes focused on the strands, while her own darted back and forth between the wall behind you and the shiny lip gloss spread across your bottom lip. When you had finished, she’d looked down at all the trimmings on the floor and mourned her loss, until you turned her around to look in the mirror and whisper in her ear that she looks ‘perfectly handsome’. Handsome? It wasn't usually a comment she took as a compliment. But whispered from your lips? Your voice? Her heart stammered, skipping not one but two beats, then making them up in double time.

Minjeong would compare her appearance with Ryujin more often, if not for the fact that you complimented her every day. Making sure to slip little notes into her textbooks or her pencil case scribbled with words of encouragement or doodles of puppies and rainbows. Her absolute favourites were the ones that made her cheeks sunburnt, even when she has an eight step skincare routine that most definitely includes sunscreen. They’re the ones she hides away in an old banged up shoe box she keeps tucked under her bed. The notes littered in the box like they’re littered in her mind and she pulls them out when she’s feeling stressed or anxious... or anytime you weren’t around.

Like now, Minjeong would kill to read one of your notes. She pictured your neat scrawl, fit with blue, not black – it was too harsh, pen and your name signed at the bottom.

‘Hey Jeongie !!!!! *doodle of a Maltese terrier* I know I’m not around right now, but you’re always my No. 1. No matter what, as long as the moon and stars chase the setting sun. P.s. There’s beer in your fridge.’

That’s the sort of thing you’d write, she muses, or something like that, probably less melodramatic. Maybe there is beer in the fridge of whoever’s house this is.

She rolls off the couch - it sticks to the skin of her palms like velcro - avoiding looking at how close your face is to Ryujin’s through the haze and walks into the kitchen, making a beeline for the fridge. There’s a six-pack, well- five-pack of beer shoved at the back behind a cabbage. Clearly someone had tried to hide it from the non-residents of the house, but failed to realise that the shelves in the fridge were transparent and the beer cans were bright green. Minjeong shoves the cabbage to the side without care, fingers grasping one of the cans and giving it a tug to pop out of the packaging. Maybe the alcohol would offer relief from the turbulent reeling of her mind. And seeing you with Shin Ryujin was definitely making her mind reel.

Knowing she wouldn’t have the guts, nor the ability to be sloshed enough to separate the two of you, Minjeong retired back to her spot on the couch, sinking squeakily between the faux leather armrest and the still sticky cushion and nursing her beer which is dripping with condensation. The droplets wet her hands while she glowers at Ryujin; it makes her uncomfortable. She’d glower at you too if you’d just stop smiling so much.

The rest of the night continued that way. Minjeong’s eyes glued to you, your eyes glued to Ryujin. So much for enjoying spending time with you. Her eyes droop, the rest of the six-pack empty and crumpled at various spots by the foot of the couch, having snatched the rest of them after a rather tense moment when Ryujin had squeezed your arm. Maybe she was being melodramatic now. Maybe she was-

Your face appears in front of hers, happy and smiling wide. “Hey Jeongie!” You giggle.

Minjeong grimaces in response.

“Not feeling so good?” Your voice lilts with laughter and she can see you glance at the multiple cans of beer scattered around her, then to the one in her hand. “You’re a lightweight, Jeongie, you know better than to down... six? No-” Your hand lightly points as you count the rubbish around her. “Five cans of beer.”

Instead of fighting back or even giving an explanation, she just holds her tongue. There’s a trail of beer dripping down the side of the can making her hands wet and sticky. You wouldn’t understand it. You’d just get more disappointed if she told you why.

Your eyes continue to twinkle with humour as you take in her slovenly figure sunk between the couch cushions. “Come on, drunkard, let’s get you home.” You offer her your hand, dainty but there was a certain confidence and strength to them. It multiplies in front of her, your real hand is the one on the left, no, the middle, then she blinks and it’s back to one.

Minjeong wants to sulk more. Clearly she was only worth your time when on the borderline of passing out in some random person’s house, where you had taken her even though she really just wanted to be at home buried under her weighted blanket while cursing at Tom Nook’s 3D sprite. But she can’t reject your hand. Not when you’re actually paying attention to her for the first time that night. So she grumbles and whines but she slips her hand into yours and feels her butt being ripped from the mildly uncomfortable clutches of the cushions.

You walk her through the house and out to the footpath, dodging far drunker people than Minjeong, her hand clutching yours while blindly stumbling behind you. The air out here only barely smells of weed, every couple of breaths it’s strong again but then it simmers back to nothing. But with the haze of the room gone, the fog in her mind began to thicken, forcing Minjeong to concentrate on where her feet were landing. Taking in a deep breath as you pull her along, she watches the way your smile sticks to your face, even when you stumble a little. She desperately wants to know why you were here with her, instead of sucking faces with Ryujin. It makes the alcoholic fog of her brain worse. Why? Why? Why?

“What happened to Ryujin?” And it’s left her mouth before she could stop it, like a runaway train hurtling down the tracks and she doesn’t even have a stupid lever to pull to save five people instead of her own measly existence and maybe she-

“She saw you were a little bit... okay, a lot drunk and excused herself. Ryu’s really nice you know and I think you two would-...” Minjeong immediately stopped listening to you when ‘Ryu’ dropped out of your lips. Ryu. R. Y. U. A nickname. A cool nickname too, not some cutesy shit like Jeongie or Minnie or Mindoongie. If Ryujin gets a cool name like a senior or a jock, where does that leave Minjeong? Why didn’t you call her Min? And the way the corners of your lips twitched when you talked about her? And the way your eyes almost glazed over dreamily like you were imagining some intimate scene between the two of you?

“Hey! Are you even listening to me?” Your voice pierced back through her haze of nicknames. You look concerned like when you had found her crying in the bathroom over her marks in Grade 10, a mix of pity and worry, swirling in your eyes like sand in the waves crashing to the shore.

78% is perfectly acceptable, Mindoongie. You just have to study harder next time. Your hand had brushed through her hair then fallen to rest on her cheek, thumbs brushing at the stream of tears. She remembers stopping the salty trails from running down her cheeks only when she got a glimpse of your own paper crumpled in your spare hand. Red pen was harsher than blue and black, and so was the shape of ink, forming a scratchy 53%.

Minjeong gives a weak nod and gestures for you to continue with an indiscriminate nod of her head. Most of this was going in one ear and out her ass, like it always does when Ryujin was brought up.

“Anyway, she asked me to go see a movie next Friday!” You check the street right to left, then take a step out, pulling her along with you. Ryujin’s going on a date with you. Wait- Ryujin’s going on a date with you. Minjeong’s eyes bulge and she stops, standstill, in the middle of the road you were crossing. Her hand falls out of yours, despite the strong grip you kept on it. The fresh air begins to feel murky against her skin, like she was still inside the house, wisps of smoke invading her senses.

“What?!”

“Ryujin? She asked me to hang. See, you’re not even listening to me!” Your laugh fades into the background again as Minjeong mentally throws darts at a board with Ryujin’s face taped to it.

And all Minjeong can force out of her mouth is a pitiful, “Oh.”

Minjeong sits at the precipice of murder. Whether that be herself or Ryujin she hadn’t figured out yet. She also sat at the edge of your bed, legs swinging back and forth in a rhythmic motion, like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. Tick. Tick.

She always liked your room. It was cosy, walls lined with shelves lined with plushies and CD cases. There were always CDs around, one in the player you saved up for, a couple carelessly laying on the table outside their cases, the wall behind your bed was a mosaic of painted discs, a project you completed with Minjeong’s help. Today’s album on repeat was something she didn’t recognise. Her mind had glossed over when you had explained to her the genre, all she knew was it had guitars and it sounded sort of ethereal; like she was half asleep listening to a band through a wall.

You stood in the mirror, looking at yourself. This was a normal activity for the both of you. She would sit on your bed, watching you watch yourself getting prepared for a night out. Usually, she pre-prepared, showing up to your home and trudging to your room complaining that you’re forcing her to go out again. It happened like clockwork every Friday night. Always the same motions; it’s muscle memory now, the same way that Minjeong can find the right frets on her guitar she can find her place by your side.

Except this time Minjeong isn’t coming with you. This time she’ll watch you get picked up by a taller, more confident girl and then hold back the prickling sensation of tears as she traces her steps back home.

“Jeongie, do you think she’ll like this top or the other more?” You voiced your concern, holding the top you previously had on to your chest, then moving it away to show the one tight on your body. Minjeong looked up from the floor with a tired huff, studying both of the shirts. Did she really care about helping you impress stupid Ryujin?

“The one you’re wearing now is fine,” And it was. It hugged your body nicely, highlighting your figure rather than hiding it like the other one would. Minjeong traced the outline of your chest, naturally following it to the small amount of cleavage the shirt created before removing her eyes and focusing on the top in your hands. “It’d go nicely with that necklace I got you last year.”

You twirled to gaze in the mirror again, standing tall and checking how you look from various angles. “Mmh, I don’t know. Isn’t it too much?” Your eyes find hers in the mirror and she just lifts her shoulders in a lazy shrug.

“If you like her then it shouldn’t be too much.” Minjeong’s voice is small and it twists in an unfamiliar way. It slides through a couple tones before landing on nonchalant. “And you’ll be wearing a jacket, the temperature drops after six.”

She hears an amused chuckle from you, looks to see the corners of your mouth twitching ever so slightly and Minjeong feels her stomach clench again. “You take care of me so well, Minnie.”.

Her lips slip under her teeth as she chews on them, an anxious habit she’s never been able to kick. “You’re my best friend.” And the answer slips out of her grasp again, much before she was able to stop it; sticking to her mouth like the strong taste of alcohol, everlasting and unpalatable.

Staring at the floor, she holds back another set of jumbled thoughts she’d regret. She already wanted to take back these words, adding more would just complicate things. And they were true too. What were you if not her best friend?

Your eyes meet through the mirror again and Minjeong rises from the bed, padding over to you, her red socks muffling her footsteps on your bedroom floor. The display of your CD player adds a number as the next song starts to play. Still the layered guitars, still the gritty, hazy sound. She cocks her head as she analyses your outfit. “The black denim jacket.” She suggests with a flash of her eyes, looking up and down.

Minjeong reaches under, past your body, hand colliding with one of your jewellery boxers on your vanity before finding the necklace she’d gifted you the year before. It was sterling silver; dainty, but not flashy. At the end of the chain was a hollow star embedded with tiny moonstones that glittered in the light of your room. The necklace had barely even dented her bank account, having impulsively bought it from a market, two weeks before your birthday. It reminded her of you, the glitter akin to the sparkle in your eyes when you smiled.

The chain was freezing in her hands, colder than the air in the room. She steps behind you, lifting her arms to move the necklace over your head. The movement was slow, deliberate, her breaths sending tingles up your ear. Notes of citrus and lavender wafted over your shoulder as her scent surrounded you. She wanted to hold the chain in her hand, warm it up so that the ice of the silver wouldn’t make you gasp when it laid against the skin of your collar, but there wasn’t time for that. Ryujin would call, or text, or honk the horn from her stupid Mustang, and you wouldn’t be with her anymore. Instead she moves your hair over your shoulder, out of the way of her workspace.

Minjeong keeps her eyes away from your gaze, as she pulls the necklace around your neck. Letting out a small gasp when the chain cascades against your skin, you leant back into her body, just an inch. It slithered down to your cleavage then back up as she brought the clasp closer to her eyes to fiddle. The hook and loop was small and her hands were clammy enough that they slid and wiggled through her fingers, making it harder than necessary for her to catch the hook. The hairs on the nape of your neck rise a little out of the corner of her eye and she has to force herself to ignore it otherwise she’d ask you to stay.

She’d blurt it out. Don’t go. Stay. Please, with me? You’d turn and give her the smile she always gets. The one when she picks you up after university classes or when she buys you ice cream, even when you bugged her all day. You’d nod your head, wrap your arms around her waist – the smile still dancing on your lips, and press your forehead against hers. It would be a light touch, something only for her to experience. The music floating about the room would switch to something slower, softer, matching her lovesick expression. Your breath would puff against her lips as you accepted her request.

The hook finds the loop and Minjeong takes two small steps away from you. Enough space for her to breathe, but close enough that she could still feel your presence. Stay. She watches you in the mirror, the fond manner in which your fingers brush at the star before curling around to hold it. Like you were sentimental. Like you wanted her the same way she wan-

Your phone chimes and she takes another step back. Minjeong can feel a tugging in her stomach, rising to her chest and clawing up her throat. It’s like she’s being dragged away from you and she’s desperately scrabbling, her nails digging into the floorboards, filling with dirt and grime. You move across your room to pluck your phone from your nightstand, looking down at the bright screen. She knows it’s a picture of the two of you on the lock screen. Happy smiles staring up at you from behind the obstruction of her text. “I have to go now Jeongie. Ryujin’s about to pull up.”

Minjeong swallows the lump in her throat and watches as you carelessly throw your phone onto the bed then drift about your room, gathering the last of your accessories. Check your earrings, rings, look yourself over in the mirror, pack your ID into your handbag. I want you to stay with me.

You don’t even spare her a glance.

Time seems to slow down as she chews on her lip. It wasn’t fair. What did Ryujin have that she didn’t? The room plunges into silence as you eject the CD that was playing. It was too empty now but she didn’t have the guts to fill the silence with words.

Minjeong didn’t have the guts that Ryujin did and she never would.

Staring at your back walking out of your bedroom and towards the front door was all she would be able to do. She didn’t have the guts to stop you.

Your phone chimes again, this time louder in the now silent room. You don’t walk over, instead you vaguely make a motion for Minjeong to read it out to you instead. It’s a normalcy between the two of you, she often allowed you to read her texts too. Everything was shared, it was within the boundaries you had placed years ago. Maybe you didn’t even have boundaries together anymore. She reaches for your phone with clumsy fingers, one leg on your bed the other rooted to the floor.

The new notification blocked her vision of your lock screen. A pesky little notification. But, she was right; the wallpaper was the two of you smiling into the camera. And, she was right. It was her text message. Minjeong can’t stomach reading the text, nor does she even try. Instead she studies the picture behind the notification, swiping down to get rid of it. The two of you were at a fair, flowers in your hair with your hands wrapped around her shoulders, and hers around your waist. She wanted that back. She wanted you to stay with her. You were her best friend, isn’t she more important than some girl?

“Minjeongie? Everything alright?” She grunts and swipes the notification back into view.

“Ryujin’s two blocks away.”

Minjeong gets up and puts your phone in your hand. The action is more aggressive than necessary and it creates a little slap noise when the silicon of your phone case meets your skin. You look back at her with a slightly surprised expression, finally perhaps picking up on her annoyance for the other girl.

“What‘s wrong?” You mutter, your voice annoying Minjeong; it’s worried and she hates it. She hates it all.

“Nothing. Enjoy your night with Ryujin.”

You pause at her words, maybe she’s said too much. She trudges over to your bed and falls on it, stomach first. She can feel your eyes burning to the back of her hair. Her hair that you cut. That you called handsome. Handsomely perfect. Perfectly handsome.

Fuck you.

And fuck Shin Ryujin.

She doesn’t however hear your footsteps, and only notices your presence when there’s a dip in the bed and the sheets under her are tugged taut, making an uncomfortable bunching near her hip. She ignores it, like she ignores you.

“Jeongie, come on, you tell me everything. Anything. What’s up? Do you have an exam soon that’s stressing you out?” Your hand clasps her shoulder, then gently runs through her hair. From her scalp down to the ends and back through it all again. Her head tingles pleasantly and it takes all her willpower to continue to stay angry with you.

And stay angry with Shin-fucking-Ryujin. Who’s probably waiting outside in her dumb Mustang right now. She would bet $100 that it doesn’t even have seatbelts, and you were all about safety. Ryujin has nothing on her.

The more she thinks about the colour of the Mustang matching your purse or the way you had dreamily told her about your date or the way Ryujin pushed hair behind your ear at the party, the more Minjeong seethed in anger. It bubbled up from inside, heating up her skin and making her flush a sweaty, sticky red. They multiply and bond and break until her mouth opens and her voice splits in a bratty way.

“I bet Ryujin’s hot bod will keep you warm tonight.”

Instantly, your calming petting stops. Minjeong deflates, too scared to look over her shoulder and into your eyes. She just said something beyond stupid, probably something that didn’t even make sense. And she said it with the most clearly jealous tone possible. Hot headed and grouchy and stupid Minjeong.

The sound of laughter stops her thoughts in their tracks. It’s quiet but she’s completely sure it’s a laugh. So she looks over her shoulder and meets eyes with you. They’re crinkled into crescents, the glimmer still present, the one that gleams like your necklace. And the eye contact breaks when you can’t hold back another laugh. It’s pretty, however pretty a laugh could ever be, but then again, Minjeong’s whipped for you.

“Ryujin’s hot bod?”

Another laugh.

“Minjeong, are you jealous?”

Minjeong reddens and buries her head back into your pillows. She knows you’ll take it as a yes. You've always been able to read her well, sometimes even noticing her mood swinging before she can. Knowing she's already been caught in the deep, deep hole she's pre-dug for herself over the past couple months with her feelings, she mutters into the pillow. "I don't like her. She's not-"

She stops herself before saying another thing that she can't take back. It's not right for her to dictate your emotions and your relationships and she knows it. But the desperate feeling clawing at her flares up again when your phone chimes its reminder notification. Oh fuck it, can’t make it worse than it already is. And so she says the words she had been wanting to say since she trod into your room.

Well, sorta.

“If I asked you to stay, what would you do?” Her words are still muffled into the pillow, half-sure of themselves. She can’t just ask you to stay, at least not straightforwardly. If she asks and you don’t want to stay then... then what?

You don’t respond immediately, but your caresses start up again, and Minjeong doesn’t know whether it’s a negative response or not. The delicateness of your fingers and the rhythm in which your movements restarted themselves keep her from bursting out into tears. Four counts downwards, then two for replacing your hand at her scalp, then another four, then another two then...

“Can you sit up? I don’t like it when you mope into my pillows.” She knows it’s a joke, the tone of your voice light, infused with a hint of jest, but it makes her stress out more. Minjeong wanted to hide from you, melt into the mattress and start a new life in her pillowy prison. But she also wants you to stay, so badly.

And that’s what pushes her to sit up, slightly ungracefully, with the determination to look into your eyes, seeing nothing but affection swimming in there. A tiny spark of hope alights in her chest and swallows, ready for your words.

You hesitate a moment more before letting go of your perfect posture and relaxing under her gaze. She always loved to see you this way, a level of comfort and familiarity put back into place. When the moment of hesitation passes and you take a final breath in, the words finally hit her ears.

“Minjeong, I like her but she’s not you.”

She’s not you.

Something takes over Minjeong, maybe the look in your eyes or the way your inflection changes when you talk about her and without a beat, she smashes her lips into yours. She’s so sick of being a coward, not having the guts. It’s about time she got what she wanted, you. Your lip gloss makes it sticky but she’s not uncomfortable, in fact, the subtle taste of strawberries made her want more, and you weren’t pulling away, so neither would she.

Your phone chimes once more in the silence. Minjeong knows it’s Ryujin, but she doesn’t really care about her anymore. A lovesick grin spreads across her face, invading her eyes and creating smile lines in the corner of her eyes. It's her forehead resting against yours and as much as she wants to push away the feeling of accomplishment, her competitive streak is too strong; she's won.

“You should get that.”

Her lips brush your's as you gently push her down on your bed.

“Five more minutes, I'm staying here with you.”

A/N: fun fact! i rewrote the ending like 6 times (once was spicier sorry lol) and i still don't like it but i don't want this to haunt me anymore so :)

#!! dreamy’s pieces #aespa #winter x reader #kim minjeong x reader #kim minjeong #kpop oneshots #kpop imagines #idol x reader #kpop x reader #aespa imagines #aespa x reader #aespa winter #aespa winter x reader

563 notes · View notes

onlyjaeyun · 1 year

Text

𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒

⤲ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤲ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐀𝐔, 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐀𝐔, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

⤲ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧...

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐘/𝐍: Sunghoon's younger sister, finally managed to save up enough money to leave her toxic home town, move to Seoul and attend the same university as her older brother. works at a café close to campus and lives alone. her best friend's are ryujin and yuna, develops a tiny crush on her coworker jiung

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍: Y/N's older brother, business major, works at one of seoul's biggest sports clothing brands' managment department as an intern, lives with his best friend of fifteen years (LHS), has absolutely no contact to his family besides his sister

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆: Hoon's best friend and roommate, full scholarship student, business major as well, works at the same company as hoon but in the PR-department, captain of the university's basketball team

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍: heehoon's best friend 1/2, physics major, works as a private tutor for rich private school kids, lives right across the street together with Jay, vice captain of the basketball team

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆: heehoon's best friend 2/2, culinary school student, works as a chef in a hotel's restaurant, also part of the basketball team

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈𝐍: Y/N's childhood best friend 1/2, moved to Seoul a year earlier, roommates with yuna, dance major, waitress at the same restaurant as jay

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐀: Y/N's childhood best friend 2/2, roommates with ryujin, education major, barista at a coffee shop on campus

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍: Y/N's ultimate best friend, moved to Daegu to study, Heeseung's cousin, engineering major

𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐇𝐎: ryuna's friend, also an education major, lowkey comedic relief, "yonsei's cupid"

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐉𝐈𝐔𝐍𝐆: ryuna's friend, dance major, y/n's work crush and roommate's with the basketball team's no.11, Choi Taeyang

𝐁𝐀𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐍: heeseung's best friend, manager of the basketball team, communications major, lowk rich and spoiled so she only helps out at her dad's company every now and then, unnecessarily obsessed with heeseung and his friends

(A/N: I lit couldnt wait any longer so here we go! Thank you so much for the love on the masterlist already, can't wait to get this big boy started. pls be ready for a LOT of angst, hype boy is nothing compred to this 🤭🤞🏼)

TAGLIST: @soonigiri @thvhannie @enhaz1 @kpoprhia @abrazosolorcereza @deobitifull @mixtape-racha @certifiedmoa @jungwon-xo @hoonieluv @enhamysunshines @jaehoonii @lilxbambi @softforjungwoo @neocockthotology @heerinnie @onionzzzs @hee-pster @3amstarlight

(No addition to the taglist without an indication of age on your blog and pls make sure I can tag you, if after three chaps it still doesn't work I'll take you off the list! 11 spots remain!)

#enhypen social media au #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung social media au #lee heeseung #enhypen writers #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #; poison

393 notes · View notes

pyramid-of-starrs · 1 year

Text

Don't be Mean to Sannie

Pt 2 of stay with me

Pairing: Clingy San x Black/Poc Fem reader

Genre: Fluffy, angst, Smut

Warnings: Jealousy, clingy boyfriend, cheating, kinda?, cursing, arguing, possessiveness, San is kinda Toxic idk lol, mentions of other idols (Wooyoung, Hyunjin and Ryujin)

Smut warning: Kissing, licking, rubbing, public sexual acts, oral sex (F and M receiving), mentions of asshole??, Hard sex, breeding (tbh it was bound to happen I love breeding lol), mentions of pregnancy, Switch San, Switch reader, uh- if im missing something lemme know

A/N: Pt 2 is finally here lol, San has been driving me fucking mad with his selfies they look so fucking good fuck.

Bad smut under the cut

Minors dni

It was around 4pm Friday afternoon, you had the day off today due to some random holiday and you were determined to go out with your friends this time because your besties laid into you last time about ditching them. Not this time, you needed to go out and experience life again, and you were going to, but the only issue? The blood sucking leech that was laying on your bed wet and covered in a towel from the waist down. San was off as well so he came over early this morning to bring you breakfast and he stayed the entire day, you let him know your plans and he agreed to back off, you got into the shower, and he of course started to feel lonely and go in with you. You were still on track to go out despite him fucking you in the shower until the water turned cold, even then when you got out, he felt the need to fuck you on top of the bathroom counter, you felt tired but grabbed a red bull from the kitchen to keep yourself awake. You got dressed in plain grey jogging pants with a cropped jacket to match it, you dried your hair and kept put on your favorite Von Dutch hat (Sans Von Dutch that you stole), and a pair of socks. Then you started to pack up an outfit and your make-up and hair supplies, your plan was simple, the more time you spent around San the more of an opportunity he had to seduce you into staying with him that night.

“Woah, woah where are you going? I thought you were going out tonight?” he said as he leaned up on his elbows.

You continued to gather all the items you needed as you replied. “I am, I’m getting dressed at Erica’s house.”

He tilted his head. “Why? What about our tradition of you letting me watch you get dress?”

“You mean the tradition of you watching me get dressed until you get horny and jealous then fuck me until I’m too tired to leave?” You turned to him and folded your arms.

“Well, yeah? It’s the best part of my Friday night.” He said smiling with his sneaky little grin.

“Well, it’s not the best part of mine, I want to actually go and experience my youth for once San. I can’t keep spending every day and night with you, I’ll go stir crazy.”

“I go stir crazy when I DON’T spend every day and night with you.” He sat all the way up at this point.

“You’ll live, I promise you will, it’s not fair that I can’t see my friends because you want me all to yourself, they want time with me just like you do. I’m sure your friends miss you too.” You said as you placed your bag next to him on the bed to zip it up.

“I don’t give a damn about that; I only care about you.” He said giving you a duh face.

“That’s not good San, you should care! Even if you don’t I do and so do they. I’m not sure what you’re going to do tonight but I’m going, you should call your friends and see what they are doing. Wooyoung texted me earlier saying he wanted to invite you out anyways.”

“Why are you texting my best friend?” He said with a bit of irritation in his voice.

“First of all, you can’t be clingy AND jealous it’s not good, second of all, we text because you never answer the damn phone when you’re with me.”

“I can be as jealous as I want when my girlfriend looks like you, either way why are you even going out, what does a club have that I don’t? Besides your friends.” He got up to take off his towel and start getting dressed.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head “Don’t do that, don’t make this something it’s not.”

“I’m not making it anything, I’m just saying why are you getting all dressed to go to some sweaty club and be drooled over by people when you could be home with me getting drooled over.” He said as he looked at you while he buttoned his pants, he hadn’t put on a shirt yet because he knew you had a weakness for his broad shoulders and chiseled abs, even now he was still trying to seduce you.

“Maybe because there is more to life than sitting in my boyfriends face all damn day, I really shouldn’t have to explain this to you.” You had a bit of an attitude in your voice that he immediately picked up on.

“Don’t get an attitude with me.” He said with a serious look.

“I can get whatever I want with you.” You rolled your neck and bit and folded your arms, you shot daggers directly at him and he did the same.

“So, you’re really starting an argument because I want to spend time with you?”

“You know damn well it’s not about that.”

“Then please tell me what’s it about?”

“It’s about the fact that you are suffocating me, all I want is a day out with my friends and you can’t put aside your weird ass insecurities to let me enjoy my night if it’s not spent with you. You always manipulate me into staying with you everyday and night and the shit is getting old as hell, I had a life before you, and I damn sure am going to have one with or without you.” You said, anger filling your voice.

“What do you mean without me?”

“Exactly what I just said, if I can’t go out and enjoy my life without you doing too much then…well...” you paused, trying to avoid saying something you would regret.

“Well what? Say it Y/N, say what the fuck is really on your mind. I get it, I can be clingy, but you knew I was clingy going into this relationship, even when we were talking, I was clingy and told you that. I understand that I can be a lot but don’t sit here and act like I’m oh so manipulative all of a sudden. If you want to go out and get felt up on by some sweaty guy at the club then go do that, but don’t be mad if I go do the same thing.” He put on his shirt and started to gather his items so he could leave as well.

“Fuck you San, you know I’m not going out to be a hoe, but you’re right 2 can play that game, if you wanna go and find another bitch good fucking luck. I hope she deals with all your goofy ass bullshit and when she doesn’t don’t fucking call me.”

“Whatever Y/N” he started to ignore you and walked out the room, you followed behind him.

“Whatever nothin’! If you walk out that door right now, I hope you know I’m going to do exactly what you said and act single as hell tonight.” He froze in front of the door as you stood behind him.

“What the fuck did you say?” he said in a monotoned voice. The air seemed like it got thin, and your heart started to pound, you could feel the anger radiating off of him.

“I-I said if you walk out that door, I’m going to act single as hell tonight.”

He nodded his head and licked his lips; he didn’t say another word just put on his shoes and walked out the door.

“FUCK!” you yelled as you sat down on your couch, this whole situation spiraled so far out of control for no real reason.

…

You decided to not let you and Sans argument ruin your night and still went out with your friends, Ericka got a section so luckily you didn’t have to be bothered. Of course, you wouldn’t want any guys talking to you, you were just saying that for argument sake. You were sitting babysitting your one drink and looking like a sad puppy.

“Come on girl get up and dance, stop being sad I’m sure San will get over it.” Your friend Katrina said as she pulled you out of your seat. You sadly danced along with her as she swayed your body back and forth. You looked off in the distance, all you could think about was-

“San?” you heard Ericka say, Katrina released you from her grasp and everyone stared in one direction, and you looked over to do the same. That’s when you saw it, the worse site ever, your boyfriend with his friends across the club sitting and giggling with a group of women, they were sitting so close, and one even had the audacity to out her hand on his thigh. You started to see red and wanted to march over there but then you felt your friends hand touch your shoulder.

“Don’t do it girl, it’s not worth it.”

She was right, and the best way to get back at him was to get even and even do a bit more.

“You’re right, lets go dance, Fuck him.” You said with a vengeful smile that your friends shared with you.

Your friend group entered the dance floor and started to dance, you attracted a lot of attention and it felt like the entire room was staring.

A group of guys walked up and offered to buy you and your friends a bottle for your section. You all gladly accepted and sat back down to mingle, one of the men specifically came over to talk to you while you were sipping your drink.

“Hello beautiful.” He said flashing a gorgeous smile.

“Hi” you smiled back.

“May I ask your name beautiful?” now that you were looking at the man, he had longer black hair wit a half pulled back ponytail and half down, he was very handsome his self.

“Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You reached your hand out to offer him a handshake.

He grabbed your hand and kissed it instead then looked into your eyes.

“Hyunjin, and the pleasure is all mine.”

He was a taller man, maybe an inch or two taller than San and had a slender and long build. He took at seat next to you.

“So, Y/N, are you seeing someone?” he asked, you looked over to the other side of the club and saw San still giggling and laughing with the woman, they seemed to be having a great time, he was giving her all the attention he usually gave you and it burned you up on the inside. You were never the jealous type but to see someone else touching all over what was yours really set a fire inside of you. There wasn’t anything you could do though, but you were single for the night, and you made sure to not let that go to waste.

“No, well not really, he’s an idiot so now I’m here.” A little more honest than you wanted to be but that was your truth.

“Well, if he lets a beautiful woman like you out of his site then you are absolutely right, he is an idiot.”

You giggled at him, you two talked for about 15 minutes, your friends and Hyunjins friends went back to the dance floor while you two hung back. San and the girl he was talking to could also be seen still getting chummy, at this point she was damn near in his lap, as if things couldn’t possibly heat up more you saw her lean into his neck, and it took all the strength in your body not to go drag her off of him.

“You know, if you want, I can help you forget about that guy.” Hyunjin said, you focused back on the conversation.

“Huh, what ?”

“That idiot guy, I can help you forget all about him, a sexy woman like you shouldn’t be stuck feeling lonely and excuse me if I’m overstepping but a body like yours shouldn’t go a day without being taken care of.” He said as he glided his long fingers up your thigh, naturally you would have told him to fuck off at this point, but you were pissed, you were hurt and just wanted to take your mind off of San.

“How so?” you replied in a seductive voice.

He smiled and placed his hand on your other thigh to grip it and pull you closer, he was actually pretty strong for such a smaller man. He placed his hand on the side of your jaw and brought his lips to your ear.

“Let me treat you like how you deserve beautiful; I can take you back to my place and fuck you so good the only thing you would be able to think about is me.” He whispered into the shell of your ear, his smooth voice sent chills down your spine, damn maybe San was right to be worried about the guys in the club.

“And how do I know you can do that?” you gave him a flirty little smile and took your hand and placed it over his crotch , it didn’t take long for you to feel his almost fully erect length, you started to breathe a bit heavier and bit your bottom lip.

“Does that feel like something you need baby?” he said into your ear, he started to drag his soft lips down your neck, you put your neck back a bit to give him more access and closed your eyes. The feeling was new and eased the hurt you were going through, you wanted to focus on the sensation but the only thing on your mind was San, you just wanted him to be touching you like this. You started to imagine it was him starting to slowly kiss down your neck. Imagining it was Sans fingers sliding up your dress and gripping your ass, it was San not Hyunjin telling you “Let me treat you right baby.”

“Y/N!”

You shot your eyes open and jumped a bit. Hyunjin stopped and looked over to who was calling your name, it was your friend Katrina.

“Excuse me, your friends are looking for you sir I think they said they were ready to go.” She said.

He smiled at her.

“Thank you for letting me know, Y/N make sure you use my number, okay?” Hyunjin said as he got up and waved both of you goodbye before he left.

“Girl what the hell was that?” Katrina said replacing Hyunjins place next to you.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Y/N, you need to fix whatever the fuck you got going on with your dude, you can’t be in here letting randoms kiss and touch on you.”

“I know…”

“Well bitch act like it, go to the bathroom and get yourself together we are about to go.”

You nodded your head slowly and go up to walk to the bathroom.

You opted out of going to the large bathroom instead you chose to go into the single unisex bathroom. You walked in and walked up to the sink and looked into the mirror. You stood looking at yourself in silence before tears started to sit at the corner of your eyes. You fought the urge to cry at the downfall of your relationship and just sighed, you hated to admit it, but you just wished you were at home cuddling with San watching TV while he gave you little kisses. A knock interrupted your thoughts.

“Someone’s in here.” You grabbed the towel and started to rub your eyes; you must not have locked the door because you heard the door open while you had your eyes closed to wipe them. The person walked in and walked up behind you.

“Katrina?”

They did respond then pressed their crotch to your butt and hugged you from behind.

“…Hyunjin?” you said as your eyes got wide, and you looked up to the mirror to see who it was.

“Is that what his name was? I’ll remember that when I try to find him to kill him.”

Yeah, that was definitely San.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you said. He chose not to reply, he immediately started to kiss your neck, dropping his weight down on you so you had no choice but to start to bend over the sink, you butt pushing against his crotch even more.

"S-San what are-"

"Shut up."

His hands slid up your thigh and immediately went into your panties, his fingers caressed your fold roughly, you let out small moans while trying to stay quiet.

"So that little bastard out there made your slutty little pussy wet or were you just imagining it was me touching you?"

"San!"

"Answer me!" he yelled and with no warning he drove his two fingers into your hole, and you covered your mouth to keep yourself from being too loud, you used your other hand to grip the side of the sink. He drilled his fingers in and out of you like you weren't in public, San has always been the jealous type so honestly his acts of possessiveness shouldn't come as a shock, he hated when someone touches what’s his.

Let's look at this from San's point of view.

After he left your apartment, he decided to call Wooyoung and take him up on his offer to go out tonight just so he could take his mind off of the fight. Once they were there for 15 minutes San was already over it and ready to get back home and apologize to you so you two could cuddle the night away with his face shoved right between your boobs and your thighs wrapped around his waist. A few girls invited San, Wooyoung and the rest of their friends over to their section and Wooyoung accepted the invite telling San it would be a great distraction. Once in the section San had one drink and a girl sat beside him.

"Can you pour me a drink?" She said smiling at him.

"Sure." San said with an expressionless voice, sure this lady was probably flirting but she wasn't you, so he didn't really care. He poured her a drink and another for himself because alcohol was the only things that would help get him through tonight. San passed the woman the drink and took the other cup for himself.

"Cheers to being young and single?" she said as she held her glass up and waited for San to meet her halfway.

San sighed because the thought of him being single made him cringe but technically you two were being single tonight, so he clinked the woman’s glass, they both tapped their glasses on the table before downing what was in the cup.

"I'm San, it's nice to meet you." He nodded at her.

"Ryujin." she said while putting the cup back down, San decided to pour himself another.

"Woah you're getting fucked up tonight what’s the occasion?" she said as she watched San drink from his cup.

"I got into a fight with my girlfriend." he said then took another drink of his cup.

"Daaaamn and here I was about to flirt with you." she said with a slight giggle.

"I guess you still can because according to her we are "acting single tonight", whatever the fuck that means."

"Oh fuck what did you do? Bitches don't just say that to say it, you had to do something."

San looked over at her and decided to say fuck it and vent to her, he told her about the fight, and she was honestly intrigued.

"Yeah, it's just like I thought, you're the problem." She said as she finished her cup that San poured her while he was talking, meanwhile he was on his 4th and feeling the effects.

"What the fuck how?" he said, genuinely confused.

"Let that girl loose a bit, you can't keep her locked in a cage and get mad when she wants to break out."

San rolled his eyes.

"Lemme see her."

San quickly pulled out his phone to go to your Instagram, he loved showing you off every chance he got. Ryujin took the phone and scrolled through the various photos you had posted, some of you, your life and of course you and San.

"Oh, wait never mind you're right keep her ass locked up she’s hot asf."

"See!!" he said looking at her with a red face, she laughed and passed the phone back to him, San started to stalk your page as well, he didn't notice Ryujin scoot closer.

"Honestly San, you two make a sexy ass couple so I hope you work it out."

"Thanks, I do too."

She flashed a devious smile leaned into his neck to whisper in his ear.

" Cause honestly I would love to fuck you both." Sans eyes got wide, and he looked up, he was going to respond but that's when he saw you and Hyunjin and he just froze. Ryujin got up and giggled and walked back to her friends. San was stuck watching Hyunjin kiss and rub on you, just like you, San saw red, he was going to kill that man that dared to touch his precious angel. Who did he think he was? He watched the entire moment up until Katrina stopped it and you walked to the bathroom. When he realized where you were going, he let Wooyoung know that he "had to pee" and followed you. Now your here with his two digits being pushed into you erratically.

"You fucking little slut, how dare you let that peasant touch what's mine. I don't give a fuck about what little fight we got into, I don't ever want to see another man’s hands or lips or anything near you. Do you hear me?" he said while his fingers fucked you so deep and fast that you had to fully behind over almost with your head in the sink, you were a moaning mess at this point.

"You can't talk now whore? Okay that's fine." he took his fingers out of your core as it unclenched and clenched around nothing, like it was begging San to enter you again. He squatted down and pushed your dress up to your waist. He immediately shoved his face into your wet pussy and licked a few stripes from your hole to your clit. You yelp at the feeling of his cold tongue on your hot pussy as he ate it from the back. San stuck his tongue in your hole and started to fuck you with his while his big nose little brushed your asshole. You started to pant and whimper trying to keep yourself together.

A sudden knock on the door scared you but San was unmoved, he continued to fuck you with his tongue.

"Y/N you in there sis?" You heard your friend say on the other side of the door.

San gripped the front of your hips and pulled you down on to his face, he didn't give a single fuck if someone caught you two, if anything he would love it, then you couldn't deny who you belonged to.

"Y-yeah, I'll be out soon." you stuttered.

"Oh, okay then I'll wait here for you."

"NO! I mean...no just wa-ahh~ wait for me at the seeeection please."

Your friend raised an eyebrow behind the door.

"Uh- okay girl." you could hear footsteps walking away from the door and your mind focused back on San silk tongue deep inside your walls. Your knees were weak, and your mind was blanking as you gripped both sides of the wet porcelain sink and leaned into it.

"S-San p-please I can't..."

His hands made their home on both your ass cheeks as he spread them apart to bury his face deep in your dripping pussy, you reached your hand back to push him back, yet your efforts were wasted because San didn't budge.

You could feel yourself reaching your peak, your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as you tightly bit your lip to fight back the moans that threatened to fall from your mouth. Just as you started to feel yourself fall apart San pulled back, he silently breathed heavily and stood up not saying a word, you whined from being denied.

"San please- I need to cum please-" you started to beg.

"No, sounds like something a boyfriend would do, you're single remember?" he walked over to the paper towel dispenser and waved his hand to grab a paper towel from the automatic dispenser and wipe your slick from his mouth and chin. You watched him move about in the bathroom with your eyebrows arched and your pussy still pulsing, waiting for someone to finish the job.

"Call the one guy, what was his name again? Hyun-?"

"Fuck you San." you said pulling your panties back up with an aggressive attitude.

"Nope." He said before walking out the door like nothing ever happened.

You exited the bathroom to rejoin your friends and leave the club, the next morning you woke up with a throbbing hangover headache and an empty bed. Usually San would be here, especially on weekends, sleeping under you while you woke up with his strong arms wrapped around you and his plush lips kissing the shell of your ear to wake you up, but not today. You grabbed your phone from your nightstand and see no text from San but one from Hyunjin, guess you must have given him your number last night, when you opened the message, it read:

"Good morning beautiful, would love to take you out to breakfast, or have you for breakfast 😉"

you rolled your eyes, you forgot how much guys sucked, you were so used to being treated with the utmost respect by San that regular men disgusted you. You needed your man back and you needed him back now. Later in that day you decided to put your pride aside after not hearing from San and called him, the phone rang a few times before he answered, his background was noisy, and he was obviously with others.

"Hello?" you said first.

"What's up, I'm busy." He said speaking over the noise.

"I...I wanted to talk to you..." you said softly.

"Talk? What?"

"Can we talk, I wanna talk about what happ-"

"San get off the phone and come back." you could hear a female voice say, it made your stomach drop.

"Listen I gotta go, talk to you when ever bro." he said then silence, he hung up on you and called you bro? This shit was sick, you needed to do something. You texted San asking him to stop by that night if he was free so you could talk, your friends invited you out as well, but you decided to stay in since San texted you back saying he would try to stop by later. Unfortunately, later never came, you waited for hours for him to come by until you passed out curled up in your bed. You woke up feeling sad that you were on the second day without making up with San, this wasn't normal, this wasn't San. Fuck it though! If this was how he was going to act then fine, two can play that game!

And you would be the loser, a fully work week had passed and it was Friday night once again. You and San hadn't spoken since the last text, and you could put your pride aside again to reach out first, but damn was it killing you. You missed him so much and it was driving you crazy, between the overall sadness of him not being around and your horniness. You even decided to say fuck it and text back Hyunjin to pass the time, but no one could compare to San. You laid in your robe, fresh out the shower sprawled out on your bed just staring at the ceiling. Your phone started to ring next to you and you grabbed it to see who it was, your eyes got wide as you saw the 3 lettered name with a purple heart emoji flashed across the screen. You could feel your heart start to beat faster, you breathed in and out a few times before answering.

"What do you need San?" you said trying to play it cool.

"My biker jacket, I left it at your house, and I need it for tonight I'm at your door."

You got somewhat excited but tried to keep up your front.

"You got a key sir."

"I didn't want to just walk into your apartment, plus I don't know where I put it."

"Neither do I." oh but you did but let’s act coy for now.

"Look, are you going to open the door or not?"

"Fine, here I come." you hung up and speedily ran to the door as you pulled your bonnet off and fixed your hair a bit in the mirror by your door, you didn't have time to change but at least your robe was nice and short and showed a good amount of cleavage. you made it to the front door and calmed yourself before you opened it, when you opened it, you saw San standing there in a dark blue jean set with a black tank top.

"I thought you came over for your jacket you look pretty dressed to me."

"It's for tomorrow..." he said slightly annoyed.

"You're going out today and tomorrow?"

"Y/N why does that matter can I come in to look?"

You rolled your eyes and walked back toward your bedroom while San shut the door and started to shut the door behind him.

"Uh uhn, take your shoes off, you know better."

"Are you being serious? I'm only going to be here for a second."

"I don't care you're not about to be walking on my bedroom carpet with shoes on." Yes, it was only a small fluffy area rug but who cares.

He shook his head and went back to the door to remove his shoes and you both walked to the bedroom. You took a seat at your vanity, and he started to look through your closet. You started to brush your hair out to get ready for your night, you were invited out by your friends but since you and San were "single" you wanted to act just as bad as San and Hyunjin invited you over and you accepted. As San was digging through your closet, he noticed you getting ready.

"Plans with your friends tonight?” he said as he continued to look.

"No... someone else." you said as you also continued your task.

"oh... who?" he questioned

"That's not really any of your concern now is it?" you said quickly

"I guess not, must be a date then."

"Maybe."

"Well good for you, hope he isn't clingy and annoying like I was."

"San I never said you were annoying."

"Right, you just treated me like I was."

"Oh my fucking god for someone with so much to say you sure have been ignoring my existence all week." You said as irritation started to leaked into your voice.

"Why would I contact someone that just broke up with me?" He said, knowing it was pressing your buttons.

"I never broke up with you San, you're just over fucking dramatic."

"Sorry I give a fuck about you."

"Whatever San hurry up and find your shit so I can go."

"Well get up and help me since you want me gone so bad."

You rolled your eyes once again and walked over to meet him at the closet and pushed him out the way.

"I put all your stuff in a box move so I can get it."

He moved out your way to sit on the bed and watch you, you stood on your tippy toes to reach to the top of the closet shelf to get the box, San was going to get up to help you instead of watching you struggle but your short silk robe was rising and revealing a bit of the bottom of your ass so he chose to sit back and watch instead.

"Where are you going on your little date?"

"No where, he just invited me to his house to watch movies and hang out."

"Netflix and chill? What is this guy 16?"

"Haha so funny." You said as you finally reached the box and brought it down, you walked over to the bed and placed it down next to him, you were about to walk back over to finish getting ready, but you felt a strong set of hands yank you back by your hips and pull you onto his lap.

"You're really going to go out to get some dick from some random."

You felt your face heat up, you missed the feeling of Sans touch and being able to sit in his lap, but you couldn't fold just yet.

"He's not random, it's the guy I met at the club the other day."

"Oh so you're going to go fuck him while some random movie is playing right?"

"N-no one is fucking me San, and you're one to talk, you had a girl all over you in the club and when I called you, I heard some girl in the background, how do I know you aren't fucking someone?" said while wrapping your arms around his neck and looking into his eyes, your big doe eyes could melt him right now.

"Because no one will ever be you."

"And no one can ever replace you San..."

You two gave each other a longing gaze before you both threw your pride out the window and your lips connected for a slow and passionate kiss, Sans hands still gripping your hips while one of them glided up the side of your body to rub your back and pull you in closer. The kiss progressed and you switched your position to straddle him, his other hand returned to your hips as he began to rock your hip against his crotch, a light moan came out of your mouth and entered his.

"I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry for what I said and saying you're too clingy... this whole week all I wanted was for you to be here." you said as you cupped his sharp jaw.

"I'm sorry too, I need to learn to give you space sometimes." you both smile at each other then he pecked you on your lips one again.

"Well... does this mean we are back together?"

"Boy we never broke up." You said giggling at him.

"The way you were acting in the club I couldn't tell."

"... right... I'm sorry about that."

"It's okay Angel, but you gotta make it up to me now."

"And how would you like me to do that?"

"I don't know, he's been so lonely without you keeping him warm, so how about you say sorry to him too."

You already knew exactly who "He" was, you got off the bed and sunk down to your knees in front of San, he laid back while sitting up using his elbows and giving you full control. You unbuttoned his jeans to and shimmed them down his hips to the middle of his thigh, Sans dick was already so hard that you could see the print of if through his boxers. You cupped his length and started to rub it up and down then looked up at him with a lustful gaze.

"Did I make you this hard baby?"

"Yes, ma'am." He said as he hissed from the sensitivity.

"I need you so bad Y/N you don't understand how much I've missed you."

You pulled his underwear down as his beautiful rock-hard dick sprung out, you wrapped your fingers around his girth and pumped a few times as he continued to hiss and watch you.

"Mm, tell me how much you've missed me, Sannie."

The mix of the nickname and your hand jacking his dick was killing him but then you started to kiss up his shaft and he swore he could cum right then and there but chose to wait.

"So much baby, I couldn't even go one night without wanting to eat your sweet pussy or fuck you into this bed." You kissed your way up to his red tip that had precum drooling out of it, you cleaned it up with one long and slow stripe from the bottom to the top of his dick.

"Oh really? Why didn't you come and fuck me then Sannie? You always say this pussy is yours."

He gulped as you finally stopped teasing him and took him into your wet and hot mouth. Bobbing your head slowly as you made it to the middle of his dick and then coming back up to the tip just too slowly go back down. San whimpered a bit at the feeling, this was somewhat foreign for him. He rarely ever let you suck his dick because he loved to worship you, constantly wanting to kiss and drag his tongue across every inch of your body. When you did get the chance to suck him off it was always such an experience because San was rarely so submissive and whiny.

"Sannie, I asked you a question baby." You said to a very dazed San. "Why didn't you come and fuck me like the slut I am and put me in my place." you continued to tease him, returning your mouth to his length, and going even deeper on it, Sans incredibly adorable whimpering was music to your ears, he started to breathe heavy while his ears and face felt hot with a red blush taking over.

"I-I wanted to make you wait, s-so I could make you beg." He said biting back his moans.

You once again removed your mouth from his dick and used your hand to pump it, coating his dick in your saliva.

"And how did that work out for you? It looks like I'm about to have you begging me to cum."

Before he could reply your mouth was back on him, going deeper, his tip scraping the back of your throat, he couldn't hold back anymore, and pretty moans feel out of his soft lips. His hand flew to the back of your head to help you keep a steady motion up and down his rod.

"Fuck Y/N if you keep going, I'm going to cum down your throat." He groaned; you could feel his grip getting tighter on your hair while he rolled his hips for him to go deeper into your mouth. You looked up at him to see him falling apart, his mouth was agape as sighs and whimpers fell out, you could tell he was at his breaking point already, your eyes met and the next thing you know he said a drug out "Fuuuuuck" then hot liquid shot directly down your throat and you swallowed as it dripped out, but it started to become too much and you pulled back as you started to choke. The rest of the cum dripped down onto his underwear and down his shaft. You finished swallowing what was in your mouth then licked the remainder from off his dick.

"I guess you haven't been seeing anyone else, that was a lot." you said as you stood up. San didn't reply, he was too busy catching his breath. "Tired already baby? We aren't done yet." you undid the knot in on your robe to reveal your fully nude body underneath, it was like a cartoon the way Sans dick immediately started to get hard again. He removed his shirt and jacket and finished taking off his pants, he laid back down on his back and you straddled him, you hovered you soaking core over his hard dick as Sans hands sat on your hips, you leaned down to give him a quick peck before easing down his length, wincing a bit when you felt him enter you. San's head flew back onto the bed, and he moved back and forth between putting his head back and watching your pussy swallow him. Moans could be heard from both of you as you reached the base of his dick, even just fully sitting on San made you feel full, riding him was always a challenge.

"You're so fucking beautiful my love, but please move you're driving me crazy." He said trying to focus on anything but cumming again.

You placed your hands on both of Sans broad shoulders and started to move your body up and down his length.

"You're so fucking big San I can't take it." you said between your moans, his grip on your hips became tighter, you could even start to feel his nails.

"Yes you can beautiful, you take me so well, this pussy was made just for me right?"

You continued bouncing on him as you sped up the pace, your walls pulsing around him.

"Yes, only for you baby."

"I need more baby, I need more." San said, you were already stuffed full of him so what else could he possibly want. Suddenly you felt San lift you off of him and place you on your back next to him as he got on top of you. He place himself between your legs and placed your legs on his shoulders. Before you could even question it, he slid back into your velvet walls and started to thrust into you at a fast pace. You cried out then he leaned forward to muffle your moans with a kiss, he swallowed every cry into his mouth.

"I'm sorry baby I've missed you so much I just need to fuck into you so bad."

San was like a dog in heat the way that his strokes were fast and sloppy, he just needed to feel you, he felt crazy not having you wrapped around him for a week, he doesn't even wait that long when it's your time of the month. He placed his head into the crook of your neck as he continued to pound into you, you could hear his heavy breathing.

"You feel so fucking good baby, I want to cum in you so bad, feel you up nice and full." as the words finished leaving Sans lips your moans got louder and your pussy started to squeeze him, San being San of course noticed your reaction and decided to see how far he could go.

"Do you want that pretty? Do you want me to fill this pussy up?"

"Mm, San... please..." You said not wanting to admit to wanting it because you knew that would unleash a whole other demon you weren't sure you were ready for.

"Please what baby? You want me to cum in you and put a baby in your belly? Then everyone would for sure know you're mine, right?"

His thrusting became relentless, all you could do was moan and call his name, tears started to form in your eyes because of the amazing sensation you were feeling, you started to see the light at the end of the tunnel and Sans words only made it worse.

"Would you like that baby? Want me to make you a mommy?" he said, you tried to fight replying but you couldn't even think straight anymore, words just began to fly out.

"Fuck, yes please San, please cum in me! I want to have all your babies please Sannie, please."

San smiled and on command you started to feel his hot cum shoot into you, you swore you could feel him filling up your womb, San continued to fuck you while you felt his dick jumping inside of you, you started to cum as well. Covering every each of him in your slick, once San was done, he kept himself plugged into you and wrapped his arms around you.

"I love you so much Y/N."

You giggled at how cute he can be after rearranging your insides and hugged him back "I love you too San."

Your phone started to ring, and you reached over to grab it, you noticed it was now almost 2 hours after your meet up time for your date and he was calling. San took the phone and answered it for you.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Who is this?"

"This is Y/N's husband, sorry she won't be talking to you anymore." San simply said as he hung up and laid his head back on your chest.

"San that was mean!"

"I don't care."

You rolled your eyes because why did you expect him to care?

Bonus:

After getting cleaned up and after a bath and some decompressing and Sans friends also calling happy that you two made up you and San got dressed for bed. He cuddled his head into your bosom while you played in his hair.

"Y/n, were you being serious earlier?"

"About what?"

"Do you really want to have my baby?"

"...Well... yeah"

"Like now?"

"I mean, if it was to happen now, I wouldn't be upset about it."

San popped his head up like a puppy when his owner seeing his owner come home.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean I love you and I do see myself being with you for the rest of my life so... why not?"

"Oh my God Y/N that's all you had to say! Come on let's go to the store and buy some pregnancy test and some ovulation and fertility test and-"

you interrupted his excited rambling by placing your hand on his shoulder.

"San... it's 1 am, calm down, we’ll prep everything in the next few days."

"...You're right...I'll calm down."

"Good-"

"But we gotta make sure you're good and pregnant, that means we have to go a few more times." he said with the cutest little smile.

"I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight." You whispered to yourself

The answer was no, no you weren’t.

#ateez smut #ateez fanfic #atz smut #san smut #choi san smut #choi san x reader #san x black reader #ateez san smut #san x reader #choi san x black reader #choi san fluff #ateez x reader #ateez x black reader

354 notes · View notes

yunjinpwr · 8 months

Text

Actually, I like girls...

idol!ryujin x nonidol!oc

SYNOPSIS : Of all her life, Jinah thought she was straight, and she never questioned this part of her. One day, by accompanying her sister and her friends to a concert; she’ll meet Ryujin, a member of a group named ITZY, and she will then began to reflect about her sexuality.

CONTENTS : idol smau, idol x non idol, wlw, fluff, strangers to lovers, just fun

WARNINGS : Suggestive jokes, heavy language, gay everywhere, toxic relationship, homophobia more will be added in the future

FEATURING : ITZY, Newjeans, Mark (NCT), Arin (Oh My Girl), Soobin (TXT) & Gaeul (IVE)

START : 15/02/2024

STATUTS : On going...

UPDATE : When i can :)

PROFILES : Gaeul's protector | MIDZY & a weeb | ITZY

- CHAPTERS

01. Wait what, wait

02. Yes, and?

03. ITZY propaganda

04. Girlfriend reveal

05. Unpopular opinion

06. She's so crazy

07. Disgusting

08. Jinah will be free

09. Going to see my girlfriend

10. I like them

11. It's a win

12. Look away

13. Happy pride month

14. Unfortunaly yes

15. Call me cupid

16. what

17. Yes friends

18. Same place

to be continued...

#ryujin #shin ryujin #ryujin x reader #ryujin x fem reader #shin ryujin x reader #shin ryujin x fem reader #ryujin imagines #shin ryujin imagines #itzy #itzy x reader #itzy x fem reader #smau #ryujin smau #itzy smau #gg smau #gg x reader #gg x fem reader

165 notes · View notes

spadesolace · 9 months

Text

the good and the bad: hwang yeji x aespa! reader

as the leader of itzy, sometimes you see how mentally exhausting it is for yeji to handle the responsibilities alone. all you could do is let her cope, not forcing her into telling you anything, isn’t that what makes a relationship healthy?

being idols within a competitive industry is already a challenge, with the additional responsibility as a leader - yeji was on the verge of breaking down within closed doors. you understand the struggles of being an idol, the cameras on you 24/7, little to no privacy, and having to maintain an image for everyone to love and criticise.

it had been quite late when you received the call, hoping it was your girlfriend who had promised you ahead of time that you’ll keep her company virtually as you write the lyrics for your own comeback. lia had contacted you ahead of time about how yeji was crying after recording for their comeback. that’s where you stand right now, in front of the itzy dormitories while waiting for someone to open the door for you. a part of you was prepared for this type of scenario, especially with your own members who had mental breakdowns due to the company’s unrealistic demands.

as the door opens, you’re greeted by ryujin with her hair tied and a face mask placed perfectly as she smiles at you. noticing the plastic bags that you’re carrying, a very familiar snack visible - yeji’s favorite.

“she’s in her room.” you follow ryujin as you both walk inside their dorm; chaeryeong and yuna on the couch talking amongst themselves but waving at you as you enter the area, while lia is standing in front of yeji’s room.

“lover girl to the rescue.” despite the situation, lia still managed to joke around with you. she’s your best friend and the one that introduced you to yeji. “yeji, you have a visitor.”

you couldn’t hear much from the other side of the door, aside from the faint sniffles and heavy breathing - yeji still didn’t budge. until you knocked on her door.

“yeddeong, could you open the door for me?”

the faint “y/n?” was the first thing you heard clearly, her voice a bit raspy followed by fast footsteps and the door being opened harshly by her. she moved fast as she hugged you tightly and cried harder than you had expected when lia called you.

it had been 30 minutes since yeji pulled you into her room and shut everyone out. she had been cuddling you and had not said a word regarding what had happened during the recording for their comeback – you learned not to rush her when it comes to these things. so, you laid there in silence, hearing yeji’s faint sobs as you caressed her back and held her tight.

yeji has different ways of coping. one is going out and driving to a park where she could walk around and enjoy the scenery, then there’s one that involves you. comfortability is the first thing yeji looks for in her partner and right away you give her comfort and the feeling of safety – her rock when times are tough. she isn’t one to speak about her feelings right away, more on letting her rationality take charge, which makes her a great leader and a great idol. that’s why you fell for her as well. she has such a charm that could make anyone fall for her. with every good thing that has happened between you two, there’s always the bad side of things.

she’s not one to let her emotions get the best of her, bottling those feelings up until she feels erupting like a volcano. for someone who is mentally strong, comes the emotional side of things that she refuses to let anyone see. despite from the start of your relationship where yeji pushed you away when she goes into hermit mode and avoiding any sort of contact for days until she feels better, you stayed. even if you push her away when you fall into those toxic mechanisms that you’d developed as a trainee, yeji was there for you.

the least you could do is stay and wait for her to open up. whether her rants are about being a leader or how their company is overworking them to the brink of exhaustion. in the comforts of her bed where yeji lays her head on top of your chest listening to your steady heartbeat as her mind is racing, in need of someone to keep her grounded.

“sleep for now, i’ll still be here when you wake up.”

yeji knew she could trust you as she let her walls down and sleep for the night, knowing that you’ll be in her arms when she wakes up.

#yeji x reader #hwang yeji itzy #itzy yeji #hwang yeji #yeji #itzy #itzy x reader #valentines day #I KNOW ITS LATE HUHU

263 notes · View notes

ryuluvr · 10 months

Text

jealousy.

wlw, nsft / smut, ryujin x fem reader.

summary: your possessive best friend shin ryujin catches you flirting with a friend at a uni house party and decides to act on how she feels in an attempt to show you who you belong to.

requested? yes. (i accidentally deleted the ask ugh im sorry! you know who u are and ty for suggesting this!)

warnings: dom!ryu, sub!reader, slight drinking, rough sex, public sex, fingering, overstimulation, degradation, possessiveness, toxicity.

word count: 1.8k

tonight was the night of one of your friends’ house parties. you’ve never seen their home, and quite frankly you aren’t even that close, but turning down your first university party of the year was not happening on your watch. you previously shot your best friend ryujin a quick text asking if she’ll attend with you and she immediately agreed, also stating she’d wait and meet you outside the party location.

ryujin always made sure she was by your side no matter what you guys were doing together, whether it’s eating lunch on campus, walking to class, studying, shopping, everything. she isn’t your roommate but might as well be with the amount of time she spends in your dorm with you. she has always seemed pretty possessive of you and you could never come up with a reason why. it’s not like you even have super touchy friends that would make her feel that threatened. but nonetheless, you loved the attention; it made you feel cared for and wanted.

once a couple hours passed and your hair and makeup was done, you stepped out your dorm and locked the door behind you, swinging your little black handbag over your shoulder as you made your way outside. the sun had already set and it was beginning to get dark outside, the sharp cold breeze flowing through your hair. upon arriving you remember to wait outside for your best friend but she’s nowhere to be seen. the music blasts outside every time someone walks through the front door and you suddenly catch one of your close friends stepping out to greet you with an expected sweet smile.

“i’m so glad you could make it!” your friend marina raises her voice slightly so you can hear her over all the noise around, her right hand reaching out to touch your arm enough for you to slightly flinch. you could tell she was at least a little bit intoxicated already. “hey, come in! let’s get you a drink!”

and with that you headed straight for the white marble island in the kitchen which showed off the wide selection of drinks, your eyes soon settling on some archers and lemonade, your favourite. after downing one glass, desperate for that warm fuzzy feeling, you feel someone grab your hand and lead you to the plush couch, plopping yourself down where there’s room. it was, of course, marina. the house was extremely crowded, bodies everywhere with barely any room to move, let alone breathe. you could feel marina’s eyes on you even when you weren’t looking in her direction, her gaze practically burning into your skin.

“i have to say, your outfit is sooo cute.” the other girl began to compliment you, turning slightly to face her and noticing her blatantly checking you out from head to toe.

“yeah?” your tone was playful as you tilted your head to one side with a slight smile, taking this moment to notice her fit as well. she was wearing a slim black dress — the way it hugged her curves making you exhale deeply and look down to her hand now resting on your thigh just under where your pleated skirt ended. “i think you look pretty good yourself.” you added, eyes meeting once more.

marina parted her lips to speak but decided to remain silent. instead, her thumb began lightly rubbing your soft skin which only made your heart race in response. you were both tipsy at this point and couldn’t care less about what was happening. hell, you could only just hear each others voices over the music vibrating through the room. the girls hand attempted to move up under your skirt before you suddenly got pulled up by your wrist, yelping from the harsh tug. all you could see was the back of this girl as she quite literally dragged you away, but that’s all you needed to recognise her. it was your best friend, shin ryujin.

your eyebrows furrowed together in confused as she yanks you harshly into the bedroom at the top of the steep stairs, almost tripping in your heels a few times on your way there. “ryu- what?!” the music mostly gets drowned out once ryujin slams the door shut, pushing you back into it with a slight thud.

“so not only do you not wait for me like planned, you decide to flirt with other girls inside without me knowing?” ryujin’s voice is loud as she speaks, throwing up her hands and stepping closer to you. her vibe immediately makes you nervous, but you still need answers. “what do you mean? why does it-” ryujin cuts you off by pressing her lips roughly against yours, her dominant hand gripping onto your shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. your heart skips a beat. this is the last thing you expected from her despite her possessive history. after all, she’s only a friend.

you decide to break the kiss and pull away, turning your head away from her. ryujin’s lips began making their way to your exposed neck, a dark chuckle escaping them. “i want you more than she ever could.” her voice is lower this time, the feeling of her hot breath and her soft lips brushing against your skin causing you to shudder in place. “i have no idea what made you think that was okay. you’re mine, got it?”

immediately your mindset shifted. you didn’t even know she liked women, it was nothing she ever mentioned before. before you could reply to her with probably more questions, you felt ryujin move her hand from your shoulder to under your skirt, deciding to hold it up and out the way for her, at this point not even thinking in the slightest. your lips parted once ryujin pressed her palm against your core, her fingers running along your entrance from over your underwear.

“so wet already, huh? you like being thrown about like a doll?” ryujin growled against your neck, her lips curling up into a devious smirk once she felt you try to close your legs as if to get away from her touch. “such a dirty girl.” the sudden multiple taps to your covered pussy made you whimper, feeling your cheeks become hot with flush due to the embarrassment. your mind was so empty you could barely speak, only whines and other various noises escaping you.

“i’ll teach you how to behave, how about that?” then, without any warning, ryujin slides her hand into your underwear and teases your entrance, coating her fingers in your juices. it doesn’t take many seconds before one of her fingers is inside of you, slowly sliding in and out as if to tease you. ryujin makes her head level to yours once more as you hold onto her for support, your knees beginning to feel extremely weak. the woman suddenly stops, causing you to whine in her ear, deciding to wait a few seconds before pumping back into it except with more force this time. she pushes her finger in as far as she could, eager for you to take the whole length, and even more desperate to add a second one. “come on, baby. you can take it. it’s what you wanted, right?”

ryujin adds a second finger once she knows you can allow it, attempting to sloppily kiss you despite the series of moans leaving your lips, making it anything but easy for her. as ryujin’s hand slaps against your clit with every thrust you feel yourself reach closer and closer to your limit. once she noticed your hardened nipples from under your clothes, all thanks to no bra, her free hand grabs onto your crop top and slides it up over your breasts to expose them. your moans only become louder with every moment that passes, the feeling of your best friends tongue now running along your nipples making you clench around her slender fingers. “fuck- ryujin!” you scream out in pleasure as you come undone on her fingers which keep their fast pace the entire time. sucking on your nipples as she fucks you through your climax, you hear her deeply groan just from the site of you.

she soon slides her fingers out of you and you notice she’s no longer finding it amusing like before. her eyes look dark and heavy, and she maintains eye contact with you while she licks her fingers clean. you barely have time to catch your breath before she pulls down your panties and and drags you to the double bed which she soon pushes you down onto.

“i’m not finished with you yet.” the woman’s voice is no louder than a whisper this time. you try to slide up the bed to rest your head on a pillow but ryujin grips onto your hips to keep you in place, desperate to take you once more, here and now. after she flicks your skirt up to expose your aching pussy, she lifts up your legs and spreads your thighs, her body now level with you. she decides to start off by licking up any juices by your entrance, her nose slightly brushing against your clit making you whimper and try to move away.

“ryujin, i’m too sensitive, i can’t go again. please.” your pathetic begging only pushes ryujin over the edge, not hesitating for a second to wrap her lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves and lightly suck. you immediately moan and buck your hips up in response, writhing on the bed due to the sensitivity. “i said, i’m not done with you yet.” ryujin’s tone stayed harsh and dominant, the slight vibration of her voice against your cunt causing you to throw your head back into the bed. at this point, you did not care about the sensitivity, you just wanted to cum again because of her, and it wouldn’t take you long at all.

ryujin continues to eat you out as she digs her black painted nails into your soft thighs, your moans only fuelling her to keep up the pace. her tongue moves around your throbbing clit, flicking it as you buck up your hips into her pretty face. you try your best to hold it out but it feels practically impossible. it just feels too good.

“fuck- i’m close, please!” you scream out in pure pleasure, your best friends tongue now entering you, fucking you with it. your back arches up off the bed and your eyes squeeze shut as you come in her mouth, ryujin moving her attention back to your clit straight after. your whole body twitches and shakes on the bed as you come down from your high, soon watching ryujin stand up from the bed and lick whats left of your juices on her lips. once it hits you what just happened, your immediately close your legs in embarrassment, sitting up despite how weak you felt. you still have the party downstairs to attend again.

“talk to her again and i won’t be so nice next time, yeah?”

#girl group #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #itzy smut #itzy imagines #ryujin itzy #itzy ryujin #ryujin smut #wlw nsft #wlw ns/fw #wlw smut #wlw community #girl group smut #fxf smut #girl group smut fxf #smut #ryujin fanfic #ryujin imagines

160 notes · View notes

ryuttaeng · 8 months

Text

pairing: shin ryujin x fem!reader, hwang yeji x fem!reader

summary: alcohol helps you to relieve your break up with your ex. you were sitting in the bar when some mysterious woman approached you, grabbing your drink from your hands.

cw: angst, toxic relationship, mentioning of alcohol, open ending

a/n: giving a try to writing again…

it’s been 6 months since you broke up with shin ryujin but you never fully recovered from that. you could only wish it was only a nightmare, a nightmare where you chased the feeling of being loved for long 6 months.

“ryujin-ah! i’m home!” you say, taking off your jacket and going to your shared bedroom, but the smile on your face immediately drops. “y/n!” ryujin loudly gasps, as she quickly covers herself and the guy with blanket. you look at her, tears are about to burst out, as you were about to have a panic attack. “y/n, don’t cry, please… i can’t see you like this.” ryujin says, you barely remember how she and her lover swiftly put their clothes on, as the guy rushed to leave the apartment. ryujin placed her hands on your shoulder, tears cascading on your face, “i knew it. we could have never worked out. we were never meant to be.” you whisper, looking at ryujin with furious and broken expression.

“i thought you were the one.”

“well, i’m not.”

you fix your hair, shakily breathing out. turned out that she used you as a coverage, while she had dozens of affairs behind your back, telling her lovers that you two had open relationship.

you take a sip of scotch, trying to get away from your own thoughts, but it not going to last long until your brain going to start bringing up them again. “you should stop drinking so much, y/n.” you hear stern voice behind you, making you turn around to look at the person talking to you.

your eyes land on woman, maybe older than you, looking fiercely, as like she’s going to… “like you seem to care anyway.” you shrug, closing your eyes. you feel her taking away your glass, making you a bit irritated, “listen, lady, i’m sober enough to process surroundings and capable enough to take care of myself. what do you need from me and who are you?” you say, looking at her, she looks kind of lost? probably, your response was not something she expected from you.

“uhm… let’s just say i’m interested in you. and i don’t want to get you in trouble.” she replies, now making you interested. you squint your eyes, doubting herself, “you’re worried about some stranger in a bar, all of a sudden? stop fooling around.” you say, standing up.

“okay, maybe i’m not just suddenly interested in you,” you pay with your credit card, wanting to go away from stranger, but you feel your head spin. “but you’ve had enough of alcohol for today. let me at least take you home.” she says quickly catching you, preventing from falling.

you open your eyes, blinking a few times as the sun rays are bright enough to make you wake up. you groan, wondering if you still have pain killers in your medicines… but the mysterious woman from yesterday appeared right in front of you. “are you gonna tell me your name or at least why do you care about me so much?” you say, looking at her from up and down. with makeup or not, she looks drop dead gorgeous. her feline eyes, her nose and orange dyed hair that looked like they got kissed by the sun. she was about to say something, but familiar voice interrupted her. “yeji unnie! where did you put my phone?” you hear some woman yell, your eyes are wide open, as you take a few steps away from, as you know now, yeji.

the other woman enters the room, revealing that it was shin ryujin’s voice. “y/n…” she says, and you only shake your head. you want to escape this whole thing, be excluded from this narrative, anything to stay away from ryujin, while she continues to speak. “i’m sorry, i-“ she starts, but you cut her off, “isn’t it a little late for an apology?” you snap at her, surprised expression is on ryujin’s face.

yeji need to think quick. she places glass with water and pain killers on the table, quickly rushing to you, covering from ryujin, which makes you surprised. “ryujin, leave this room right now.” yeji spoke in stern voice, but ryujin was too stubborn to easily understand her. “y/n, can we.. be more than this? i’m so sorry for leaving you, but i want to make this… make us right. i tried to contact you after you left, i was too harsh with you.” she tries to make it up to you, but isn’t it too late? “it’s not fair, ryujin. you’re not fair. you can’t just come back to my life and expect me to get all lovey dovey with you after what you’ve done. that’s not how it works.” you say and you feel yeji’s hand on your face, removing single tear on your face.

“shin ryujin, how many times i told you to leave y/n alone? even if i’m your friend, it doesn’t mean i’m gonna help you get y/n back. so you know, you’re a shitty person who doesn’t know anything about love. now get out of my room and leave us alone!” yeji’s grab onto you tightens, as she was about to sacrifice her own life to protect you from your ex girlfriend. younger woman stood there, even after all she had heard from yeji, looking… heartbroken? “trynna steal my girl from me? you know-“

“you know what? you dare to say she’s ’your girl’ after all you’ve done to her? she was never meant to be with you. you’re a moron who can’t even care about others feelings. i still wonder why im friends with you, because you even fucked up in friendship! get out of my apartment and never come back.” yeji yells, as she feels how you hid your head in the crook of her neck, instinctively patting your head to call you down.

as ryujin left, you finally fully exhaled, “thanks, yeji… i’ve never thought that someone would defend me like that, thank you, really.” you almost whisper.

it’s been 1,5 years since you’ve met yeji. she’s the most precious and sweet person, gorgeous inside and out. her cute smile and how her eyes turn into crescent shape when she smiles always melts your heart, making it flutter. if you could, you’d just stare at her for hours and…

“y/n! hurry up or else!” chaeryeong yelled, taking you out from your thoughts. you quickly put on your clothes, and you gladly make it on time.

chaeryeong and you greeted yeji, when she excused herself to go to the bathroom. chaeryeong sighed, turning to you with tired look, “you have such heart eyes when you look at yeji, makes me sick.” you look at her, furrowing your brows. “no, i don’t.” you witness older girl roll her eyes, “really? and you don’t miss her when you don’t hang out with her? which is like once in a while.” are you really in love with yeji?

“well, i miss her so much when we don’t see each other, i don’t know why. but i did.”

“is that so, y/n?” you hear a voice behind you, as you turn to look back, you reveal smiling yeji.

#itzy #itzy imagines #itzy oneshot #ryujin x you #ryujin angst #ryujin x reader #ryujin x female!reader #yeji x reader #yeji angst #yeji x female!reader #itzy angst #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #kpop angst

110 notes · View notes

perfectsunlight · 1 year

Text

𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: toxic!yuna, 𝗺𝗲𝘀𝘀𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽𝘀, 𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗹 𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗮 (reader is a grade below yuna)

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 7,829

𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌: 𝗒𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾: 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗎𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍, 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 ��𝗐𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋?

“she’s doing it again.”

kazuha’s chin motioned in the direction behind you, earning an eyeroll from you. it didn’t take a genius to figure out who she was talking about. you could practically feel your girlfriend’s burning gaze from where you sat under the tree.

it was the first day of second semester, and your girlfriend, shin yuna, was already going to give you a headache.

with both you and yuna being upperclassmen, you knew she would want to spend more time with her friends since it was their last year together. however, you couldn’t help but feel as if you were left out of those plans.

your girlfriend was easily among the most popular faces in her grade, and if not, the entire school. she was the president of the student council, after all. she also was well aware of these facts, and took pride in her social status amongst her peers. yuna loved attention, but you honestly couldn’t blame her. she had always been used to being the center of it.

except, despite her popularity, she only had eyes for you.

the two of you met two years ago, when you had first entered high school. on the first day of school, you and a few of the other freshmen were given a tour by none other than shin yuna herself.

from that moment, you felt somewhat drawn to her. come to find out, she also sat next to you in a combined history class, where you two became study buddies since you were often paired up for school projects. ever since then, the rest was history.

however, there was just one problem — yuna refused to interact with you during school. well, at least not publicly.

high school hierarchy was very, very important to yuna. her sister, shin ryujin, had graduated a year prior, and left some “shoes to fill” as your girlfriend would always say. you didn’t mind at first, since you didn’t really see her much anyway, except once you two got into your latter years, she would simply just ignore your presence entirely.

it was necessary for her to keep her perfect “image”, after all she couldn’t be seen dating anyone – much less a girl. it wasn’t that your school wasn’t open minded, it was just the group of friends your lover had that held such judgemental ideologies. regardless, it would truly be the death of her if she failed in any school-related aspect, and that included the most important aspect to her: popularity.

this year meant a lot. senior year consisted of many things, like getting into universities, prom, senior superlatives, and most importantly, graduation.

truth be told, ever since the year before, there had been one small rumor going around about the two of you possibly being together. after yuna won the council elections and ended up becoming student council president, she knew that she couldn’t let anything ruin her image. it was what led yuna to making the decision that would stand for the current school year: she was not going to be seen with you at all.

yuna knew she couldn’t let the potential relationship rumors ruin anything, which made her choose the path of least resistance. she couldn’t have any rumors about the two of you circulating if you were never seen together, which made her job of keeping a “clean slate” much easier.

ryujin had gotten into one of the most prestigious overseas universities in america, and yuna wanted nothing more than to follow in her footsteps. in order to do that, she needed to keep her reputation and record spotless. she didn’t want anything, not even any mere rumors, ruining her future.

naturally, it was quite annoying, because the same woman who was ignoring you would also be the one to burn holes into the back of your head whenever she got the chance; like now, for example.

“let her, she won’t do anything anyway.” you said casually, earning a look from kazuha as she leaned back on her hands. “if looks could kill, you would be dead about 5 times already.” she snickered as you threw a small pebble at her.

from where your best friend sat, she had a clear view of the lunch table that occupied your girlfriend and her friends. yuna had a lot of friends, but her closest ones were the ones who she really hung out with.

first there was yeji. yeji was the student council vice president and she was one of the few real friends that yuna had that you actually liked. the cat-like woman often spent her days booked and busy, but she also helped yuna stay in check, which was nice. yeji and yuna have lived next door to each other since they were in elementary school, and yeji’s older brother, hwang hyunjin, graduated last year with yuna’s sister. you could tell that yeji was like a sister to your girlfriend.

then there was chaeryoung. if you didn’t know her, you would assume she was just some shy girl who was a hermit. except everyone who actually knew her, knew that this girl was a dancing prodigy. she was also captain of the competitive dance team, and from the rumors say, she was terrifying when upset. chaeryoung was nice, but only if she needed something from you. other than that, everyone knew to steer clear of her if she was upset with someone.

finally, there was jisu, but everyone called her lia. she was the secretary of the student council, and was often seen following yeji everywhere. both you and yuna swear that she’s got a crush on the cat eyed girl, but neither of you would ever dare to ask anything about it. lia was actually pretty bitchy 75% of the time, but her older brother, choi yeonjun, was exactly the same way. one can assume it’s just in their genes to seem so self absorbed, but no one expected anything different from either of the choi siblings.

your girlfriend’s group of friends were quite the accustomed taste, but you knew that the shin yuna at school was completely different than the shin yuna who would sneak in through your bedroom window at 2 in the morning because she just wanted a goodnight kiss. however, ever since the start of the semester, it seemed to you that your girlfriend was slowly turning into someone she wasn’t. then again, she was practically living a double life every day.

“it really looks like she’s going to burn you into the ground.” yunjin snickered, earning a nod from the japanese girl next to her. a small pout formed on your lips, but before you could answer, the japanese girl responded. a groan escaped kazuha’s lips as she looked over at yuna, narrowing her eyes slightly. “what do you even see in her, y/n/n?”

unlike yuna, your best friends knew about your relationship. however, that didn’t mean they were her biggest fans.

you poked your tongue from inside your cheek, trying your best to not feel guilty about being with yuna.

fortunately, you were saved from answering the horrendous question by the bell. it rang and echoed throughout the courtyard, signaling the end of your lunch period. you stood and helped kazuha stand up from the grass, only for yunjin to push her back into the ground.

the three of you spent a solid minute laughing at what yunjin had done, not noticing the disapproving stares that your girlfriend and her friends were giving you as they walked by.

eventually, the three of you made your way up the steps and inside the building. the hall traffic flowed as usual, everyone going to their designated classrooms. kazuha had a different class, so after bidding the ballet dancer farewell, you and yunjin made your way to your classroom.

on the way there, you passed by yuna and her friends. the two of you made eye contact for a brief moment. her features seemed neutral, despite her spending the entirety of last hour burning holes into the back of your head. perhaps she thought you didn’t notice.

it wasn’t until a sharp push from the other side of you caused you to trip and fall. you could hear the yells of a few apologies go by as a few freshman boys ran past everyone. yunjin was by your side immediately, helping you up as she shot yuna a harsh glare. however, as she helped you up, you noticed the balled fists of the dark haired girl.

she had to stop herself from helping you.

yuna’s eyes seemed to express her concern for you as she scanned your body all over while you stood up. you flashed her a reassuring glance before yunjin dragged you away to class.

eventually, you got to class and endured the boring lesson being taught. it was only the first day and yet it seemed as if your teachers had given out a week’s worth of assignments already. however, since you and yunjin barely made it inside the room as the bell rang, you two couldn’t sit next to each other.

the girl who sat next to you must have been a new student considering you had never seen her around before. she seemed to pay attention way more than you did, but that didn’t matter. because you couldn’t help but admire how pretty this new girl was, she looked like a model.

once the period ended, you began packing your things into your bag, but before you even stood up, you felt a tap on your right shoulder.

you were met with coffee-colored eyes and one of the softest smiles you’d ever seen. “sorry, i hope this doesn’t sound weird, but i’m new here, and i was wondering if you could tell me when the council elections are.”

confusion laced your features, “im sorry?” you asked gently.

the girl chuckled softly and pointed at the picture on the back of your phone case, which was one of the stickers from last yea’s elections. the bright blue “vote for yuna!” sticker was something your girlfriend insisted on having you carry around during that time.

you had actually forgotten it was still there until this new classmate of yours pointed it out.

“i mean, unless you don’t, and you just carry a random election sticker around everywhere.” your eyes met hers once more, a smile still gracing her face.

“oh,” you chuckled. “the process starts in about a week, but it runs until the actual election which is the week before graduation.”

the brunette nodded at your answer before shaking her head. “i’m sorry if this seems a bit random, you don’t even know me, so hopefully this isn’t too awkward.”

you shot her a reassuring smile, “no worries, it’s alright.” you stuck your hand out for hers to shake. “l/n y/n, nice to meet you.”

her hand met yours in a firm handshake, that smile never leaving her face, and you couldn’t help but want to know more about this girl who seemed to notice everything.

“ahn yujin, its nice to meet you too.”

“how long did it take for you to not get lost around here?” the taller girl asked as the two of you walked to your next class. your smile met your eyes as you looked away from her and began walking up the steps. with a quick glance at her, you sent her a quick smile. “i actually got a tour guide from one of the sophomores my first day of freshman year. she helped me find everything.”

ahn yujin mirrored your smile. “how nice of you to do the same for me, i feel honored.”

“what brings you here anyway? you transferred in the middle of the year.” you inquired, curious as to what her story was. the two of you reached the top of the stairs and continued walking down the crowded hallway. two lanes of traffic formed, allowing the two of you to slip into the sea of bodies easily.

“well, my parents bought a house on this side of town during winter break. they figured it would be easier to go to school on this side of town instead of my old school, which is now like 45 minutes away.” she answered as you opened the door to the classroom.

the two of you took your seats next to each other and were so immersed in your conversation that you didn’t notice yuna walking right passed the open door.

the raven haired girl halted and backtracked to catch a glimpse of the two of you sitting at the front of the room. her brows furrowed at the sight, but she chose to ignore it for now as she made her way to her own classroom.

she made a mental note to bring it up to you later, of course. even though yuna was never directly interacting with you, she made sure to always keep an eye on you throughout the school day. you were her still girlfriend, and she needed to make sure her lover was always doing okay.

one of the many perks of being the student council president was the numerous amount of connections yuna had. everyone knew shin yuna, that was a no brainer. what mattered was how much yuna knew about everyone else: and to be quite honest, yuna knew everything.

which was why she was a bit confused when she saw some random new girl sitting next to you in class. sure, it was the first day, but she already knew the people in your grade. she found it a bit odd that she didn’t hear about this new girl, especially since it was not common to transfer schools in the middle of the year.

yuna’s hand turned the knob to the door of the student council room before she stepped inside. she then noticed that lia was looking through some of the class rosters.

“hey jisu?” she called out as she moved to take her seat at the biggest desk in the room. the wooden plaque with her name engraved into it made it obvious whose desk it was. it also often served as a daily reminder for her to remember her reputation.

“yes, yuna?”

yuna’s midnight eyes narrowed at the other girl as she raised an eyebrow at her. the brunette’s eyes rolled in response before she corrected her previous statement.

“yes, president?”

a smug smirk made its way onto her face. yuna loved holding this position of power and influence, but what she loved even more was the way she could one up every single one of her friends.

“could you hand me the junior year roster?”

the secretary complied, making sure to hand the papers to yuna instead of throwing them on her desk like she had the urge to. lia was friends with the girl, but she hated how cocky the younger shin was.

yuna’s eyes roamed the pages for over an hour and a half, scanning through all the names until she had finally found the one that wasn’t familiar to her at all.

“ahn yujin,” she murmured to herself before checking the time on her phone. you were in study hall right now. she wondered if ahn yujin was there with you. was she talking to you? was she asking if you were free later?

each of these thoughts made her more and more upset. however, just as she was about to pick her phone up to text you, the door to the council office opened.

“oh, hi y/n.”

jisu greeted you with a smile before looking over at yujin next to you. “you’re the new student, right?” yujin shot her a nod in reply.

yuna’s legs crossed as she leaned forward on her desk, clearly making it obvious that she was also listening to this conversation. after all, there wasn’t a wall, yuna could clearly see you and vice versa.

however, you seemed to not even spare her a second glance. or even a first glance, for that matter.

“what brings you both to the council office?” lia asked as she folded her hands behind her back.

“do you still have an open spot on the registration list for the upcoming council elections?” you asked with a sweet smile, and yuna couldn’t help but let the corners of her lips turn upwards. she had been trying to get you to run for council ever since you began dating. she wanted to spend more time with you, but even though you were going to be running for next year’s elections, she felt comfortable if the legacy she was leaving would be continued by the love of her life.

“we do actually, there’s one final spot left.” jisu handed you the clipboard with one final opening at the bottom. with a smile you handed it to yujin, who began writing her name on the list.

yuna’s smile quickly disappeared. it wasn’t you running for an office position. it was yujin.

“thank you,” yujin took the clipboard and handed it back to lia. the secretary turned to look back at yuna, who had her classic stoic mask-like expression. “the registration list is full, president.”

shin yuna only nodded, her attention moving back to the class roster lists on her desk. however, just before you and yujin slipped through the door, her eyes met yours.

you tore your gaze away from hers once yujin said something that made you laugh, and the door shut behind you after that.

she thought this semester was going to be a breeze, but it turns out that it's definitely going to be an interesting ride along the way.

it was around 8 in the evening when you heard pebbles being gently thrown at your window. you got up from your bed and opened the curtains to open it. there, on the ground below, was yuna.

“can i come up?” she asked, a smile on her face that you seemed to mirror. using your towel next to your desk, you dropped it down for her to use as a climbing rope to help pull herself up while she climbed the wall to your house.

fortunately, yuna was tall enough to make a short climb from the tree next to your room to the mantle of the bedroom window.

once yuna was inside, she closed the window behind her before wrapping her arms around you.

“someone’s clingy today.” you commented, earning a huff from the taller girl. yuna was usually only really affectionate like this whenever she was stressed, drunk, or really tired. you figured it was the latter.

“am i not allowed to hug my girlfriend?” she murmured into your hair while her hands snaked under your shirt, gently drumming patterns on your skin.

you snickered, “yeah, not during school hours.” your comment caught her off guard, and you didn’t realize it, but yuna felt the small pang in her chest from your words. the two of you had numerous arguments about her ignoring you during school, but you were at the point in your relationship where nothing new could be said about it.

“speaking of school,” she quickly shrugged off the feeling in her chest. “what’s with that new girl? i saw her name on the list.”

“oh, yujin?” she noticed the way your smile widened at the name. “she’s really cool, she just moved to this side of town. she actually lives not too far from us.”

you turned around to face your girlfriend, noticing the all too familiar look in her eyes. “hey, are you listening to me?”

her attention never wavered from your lips as she leaned in to kiss you. her lips met yours in a soft-natured, but assertive kiss. yuna needed to feel some sort of reassurance, and your lips always granted her such comfort.

“i don’t want her near you.” she murmured against your lips, holding your waist in her hands as she backed you towards your bed. a scoff escaped your lips as you looked up at her.

“so i can’t have friends anymore?” you challenged playfully, not taking yuna’s jealous comments as empty threats. however, you didn’t know it, but yuna’s threats were anything but empty.

“you can have friends,” she said while she brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear before she grabbed your chin with the same hand. she forced you to look at her dead in the eyes before she spoke in a low voice barely above a whisper.

“but just not her, sweetheart.”

you should have known that after that night, yuna would be keeping an even closer eye on you. it seemed like wherever you went, and whatever you did, yuna always knew about it. she didn’t even need to make it obvious either, as a matter of fact, she simply passed her actions off as “monitoring the friends of the candidates for the elections.”

yuna knew you and yujin still hung out, there wasn’t anything she could do like move your classrooms and courses since you were both in the same grade and had practically identical schedules. it made the youngest shin sibling frustrated because no matter what she did to try and scare yujin away, it never worked.

from random sticky notes in her locker that said “i'm watching you” to having her friends “accidentally” bump into her in the hallways. at this point, she didn’t know if yujin was just oblivious, or if she was flat out playing dumb.

however, shin yuna was not about to let just anyone become student council president after her. she didn’t want someone like ahn yujin to take her place after graduation. the legacy of the council would just be tarnished. whether it took her a week, or a month, yuna would make sure that yujin knew her place in this school.

besides, with the election race beginning, yuna had one final card to play: sabotage.

“yujin, don’t you think it’s a bit uneven?”

you asked as you began stapling one of her posters on the wall. you had agreed to help your friend hang up her advertisements for the election, but you underestimated just how many of these she wanted to have.

“no, it looks fine, trust me.” she helped you hold the remaining 5 posters as you followed her down the corridor, both of you looking for possible places to put them up.

“your first speech is in a few hours, do you feel nervous?” you asked the taller girl. yujin smiled at you, raising an eyebrow at you. “nervous? the one who should feel nervous is your girlfriend.”

you had told yujin about your relationship with yuna since you wanted to prepare the girl for any potential run ins she may have with yuna. except, yujin didn’t seem to be scared of yuna or her posse in the slightest.

“yah, don’t joke about that.” you teased, earning a playful nudge from the brunette beside you. “don’t worry about me so much. i can handle it.” yujin’s hand squeezed your shoulder before she pointed out a spot to fill with a poster.

once you two finished hanging all of them, the both of you made your way to the auditorium where the candidates were going to give their introduction speeches. you followed yujin up to the doors backstage, making sure she got to the stage at least without any issues from a certain reigning president.

“good luck, yujin. you got this.” you gave her a quick hug, truly excited to see your friend take her seat on stage and pitch herself to the student body. yujin was definitely a natural born leader, and you had figured that if anyone would be best fit to take up the mantle of student council president, it was definitely her.

“thank you, y/n/n.” yujin grinned and gave you a reassuring shove. “don’t worry so much, yuna doesn’t scare me.”

as if it was on queue, a teacher poked his head out and called for yujin to come backstage. you both waved farewell, and you turned to walk back to the auditorium. however, once you turned the corner, you ran straight into someone you practically never run into.

“woah,” you put a hand on your chest before looking around to make sure no one else was around. “yuna, you scared me.”

the taller girl tilted her head to the side, arms folded against her chest as she leaned her face inches away from yours.

“yuna doesn’t scare me,” she mocked, and in that moment you realized she had been eavesdropping. a scowl formed on her usually stoic face before she continued. “what the fuck was that about, y/n?”

your eyes narrowed as you tried to move past her. the last thing you wanted to do was start an argument in the hallway backstage. you definitely didn’t want to give yuna even more of a reason to try and do something stupid.

“i’m not doing this here, yuna.”

the taller girl grabbed you by the arm before you could even take another step past her. she then leaned over to whisper in your ear, looking over your shoulder to make sure that no one else would be coming down the corridor.

“meet me in the stage storage room in ten minutes.”

once yuna let you go, and once you managed to slip out of the assembly, you found yourself walking into the storage closet behind the stage stairwell. to your surprise, yuna was already in there, arms folded and looking as stoic as ever.

you pulled the door shut behind you before locking it, then turned to face your girlfriend. to be honest, you were still very upset with her. it wasn’t like yuna to get like this, especially during school hours. for all you knew, yuna could have cared less about whatever you did or who you hung out with. little did you know, yuna cared a lot more than you realized.

“what was yujin talking about?”

“always quick to the point, aren’t you?” you scoffed, knowing better than anyone that your girlfriend rarely ever beat around the bush with things.

yuna poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue as she noticed the pin that adorned your uniform jacket. she motioned with her head towards it, “that’s against school standards.”

confusion laced your facial features, but then you realized what she was talking about. you had been wearing one of yujin’s “vote for yujin!” pins in support of your friend.

another scoff left your lips, knowing full well how yuna had her wearing all of her pins, stickers, and bracelets. you had been a walking advertisement at one point, so why was she trying to use the rule book against you?

“i did the same thing for you,” you hissed, already tired of yuna’s childish behavior. “i am supporting my friend, who i think will make an outstanding president.”

yuna took a step forward, but you didn’t move from your position in the center of the room. similar to earlier, yuna’s head dipped to your ear. “you’re supporting your friend huh?” she let out a sarcastic snicker. “because it sounds to me like she’s definitely more than that.”

your jaw dropped as you turned to stare at her in disbelief. your girlfriend thought you were cheating on her. to be quite honest, you sometimes thought it was yuna cheating on you at some points. despite her avoiding you for the past year during school, you were well aware of the many people who openly admitted their feelings for your girlfriend.

“what on earth makes you think that i would do that?” sarcasm dripped from your lips, glaring at yuna with a newfound sense of anger. after all the times you were not able to go up and claim yuna as yours when people flirted with her, all those times you had to sit and listen to people oogle her, and yet she was accusing you of being unfaithful?

“well, when someone openly says that they’re not scared of their girlfriend, it only seems fitting.” the president growled, slightly upset that you didn’t immediately deny the allegation she threw at you.

“so you were eavesdropping?” you argued back, earning an eye roll from the black haired girl. yuna was growing impatient. she knew she would need to say some closing remarks at the end of the candidate speeches, so she knew she had to make this conversation wrap up quickly.

“stop changing the topic, y/n. if you have something going on with yujin, just fucking tell me.”

your shoulders slacked, already upset that your argument with your girlfriend was making you miss your friend’s speech. you promised yujin you would be there to hear it, even though you spent hours helping her practice during lunch and study hall. your girlfriend was accusing you of cheating, and at that moment, you felt overwhelmed. you and yuna had been arguing a lot about yujin lately, but her accusing you of cheating finally pushed you over the edge.

“i can’t do this anymore, i’m done.”

the anger practically drained from yuna’s face once your words rang in her ears. this was not how she pictured this meeting to go. she began fearing for the worst as she watched you turn to leave.

“wait, wait, wait,” she quickly reached out to grab your wrist, the action making you look at her with annoyance.

“what do you want, yuna? i’m tired of this.”

yuna’s heart raced in her chest. she refused to believe that you were trying to walk out on her. she immediately regretted following you and yujin earlier. all she wanted was some reassurance from you, but her own emotions got the best of her.

“you don’t mean that, right?” she whispered, her own voice trying to not waiver when she spoke.

as you looked up at her, you could see the inner turmoil going on behind her eyes. you loved yuna, more than anything in the world, but you couldn’t keep arguing with her about one of your good friends.

you needed to put some space in between you and yuna, so you did just that.

“we need a break.”

it had been around a month since you and yuna started your break. she still sent you “good morning” and “good night” texts, along with a few “thinking of you” messages here and there. you replied to maybe 30% of her messages, but you made sure to at least text her once a day just to make sure she wouldn’t go hunting the school grounds for you.

ever since the first round of elections happened after the speeches, only 3 candidates remained in the final running for student council president. so far, yujin was favored to win, which couldn’t have made you prouder.

on the other hand, yuna could not have been more aggravated about it. she often saw quick glances at you at lunch or in the halls, and you two were always attached at the hip. it almost made her explode when you had introduced yujin to yunjin and kazuha at lunch for the first time.

she was jealous of the way you appeared to be perfectly fine, meanwhile she spent her days scowling and longing for you. she wouldn’t dare tell to admit it, but ryujin had walked in on her crying on one or two occasions because she missed you so much. it ended up with ryujin taking yuna’s phone every night to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.

however, there was the upcoming school prom. juniors and seniors alike were only allowed to attend, and yuna wanted to use council as an excuse to go to the event without a date. she wanted to take you, she truly did, but once again her pride in her image refused to let up. she knew it was her last year too, which only gave her more of a reason to want and take you, but she couldn’t risk it.

she was content with being stuck on council duties for the night, and she was mentally preparing herself for a night full of separating horny teenagers and kicking people out for sneaking alcohol in.

that all changed the moment she watched you walk into the auditorium with yujin on your arm. her jaw physically dropped, and the red solo cup in her hand was crushed in her hands. she noticed yunjin and kazuha following behind you two before the four of you disappeared into the crowd of people.

the entire night, you knew yuna’s eyes were on you, but you refused to let yuna ruin your first prom. you’d know yuna’s burning gaze anywhere, considering it was all you got every day at school for the past year.

“i’m going to go grab water, ill be right back!” she shouted over the music. you flashed her a thumbs up before being dragged into the dance circle by kazuha and yunjin.

yujin walked towards the back table, where yuna’s eyes met her figure. she watched as the brunette’s hands slipped on the water, causing it to spill a little on her dress. as a result, yujin made her way towards to locker room bathroom, which was the closest to her.

what yujin didn’t know was that yuna had followed her in there, like a predator stalking its prey.

truth be told, yuna didn’t know what came over her. her emotions were combined into one giant ball of a mess, and now that she finally had yujin, the girl who started all of this, finally cornered and alone? her body simply moved without any second thought.

“you know, that’s against school standards.” yuna motioned towards the dress yujin was wearing. in all honesty, it was not against the school dress code. yuna just wanted to be nit picky. “you should really review the handbook if you want to be president.”

yujin’s hands stopped wiping the water with the paper towel in her hand to turn and face the current president. with a click of her tongue, she pointed a lazy finger in her face.

“you know, in the articles pertaining to dress code, there’s a separate portion that mentions getting prom attire approved beforehand. which, was something i did.”

the junior girl snickered and threw the paper in the trash. “you know, you should probably brush up on the rules, president. after all, it seems pretty lazy of you to not remember the handbook.”

yuna was not the type of person to get physical, she actually rarely got physical with anyone unless it was her older sister. however, this situation was a bit different. she was tired of yujin trying to steal both her girl and her title.

“stop fucking moving,” yuna seethed, holding yujin’s arms against the lockers behind. it wasn’t like her to get physical, after all, she did have a reputation to keep.

she needed to reinstate some boundaries for yujin. clearly the latter didn’t understand personal space. or the fact that you were still yuna’s girl, despite the two of you being on a break.

“what the fuck do you want, shin?” the other girl snapped, glaring at the raven haired girl spitefully. she was never scared of your girlfriend, even now. truth be told, yujin always respected yuna, especially since she was the current president, but she drew the line at you.

yujin had heard stories from kazuha and yunjin, and needless to say she eventually grew to abhor the student council president.

yuna’s eyes darkened, a bone chilling smirk forming on her lips as she leaned in closer to yujin, eyes never leaving hers before she lowly whispered.

“i either want you dead, or as far away from y/n as you possibly can be.”

a smirk slowly appeared on yujin’s face, mirroring the manic look that was ever apparent in the current president’s eyes.

“right back at you, shin.”

after prom ended, yuna had tried calling you several times, but you ignored most of them. truth be told, the break had been giving you clarity. you loved yuna, more than anything in the world, but it was hard for you to sit there and be ignored on the daily basis while yuna prioritized her reputation.

it wasn’t until the final day of the elections, as well as the day before graduation, when you and yuna finally spoke in private. yujin didn’t mention to you anything about her run in with yuna during prom, but she did encourage you to finally speak with the girl. she wanted you to establish whatever your relationship was to yuna, because you deserved clarity.

which was why you were currently sitting on the desk of your president girlfriend, patiently waiting for her to walk through the doors. the hands of the clock ticked away, filling the room with the only sound present. you moved to check your phone for any texts from yujin, but your attention was drawn away the moment you heard the door open.

yuna’s eyes widened in surprise when she saw you leaning against her desk. the two of you had not seen each other alone in months. you had called and texted her a few times, but the two of you were both aware of the tension that lingered in your relationship.

“hi yuna,” you flashed her a small smile, finding the taller girl’s confusion adorable. “we need to talk.”

in all honesty, yuna was expecting you to finally speak, but she was definitely not expecting you to talk to her in her office.

“we do.” she said softly, closing and locking the door behind her to give you two some privacy.

yuna moved towards you to set her things down on her desk, eyes never leaving yours for a moment. just for a fleeting second, you felt yourself wanting to kiss the taller girl like you always did whenever you greeted her.

you had spent too many moments with yuna’s lips on yours to forget how they felt. however, you wished for a moment that you could, just to make this conversation easier.

“these past few months have been confusing, and really difficult, but–”

“wait,” yuna interrupted you before you could finish anything. truth be told, she had a lot of things to still say to you, and the last thing she wanted was for you to say anything before she would be able to get them out. “just, let me go first, okay?”

you nodded, motioning for her to continue speaking. you were honestly curious to see what the president of the student council had to say about your estranged relationship.

“i know that what i did in the name of my reputation, was not worth it, but i just,” she bit her lower lip in an attempt to hold back the lump from forming in her throat. “i don’t know if i can say it was worth it, because i got what i wanted, but it destroyed us.” she whispered, and for a moment you were a bit concerned because this clearly could not be the same shin yuna that accused you of cheating on her three months ago.

“well,” you placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. “i think if you got what you wanted, then it was worth it, right?” you whispered, a sad smile adorning your face.

yuna’s eyes met yours, and for the first time in what felt like a year, she felt regret. in just 24 hours, she would walk across a stage, receive her diploma, and be done with high school. truth be told, yuna was scared.

shin yuna was terrified because she was letting go of everything. her childhood, her position on the council, her friends. everything was changing so fast, and she feared that the one person who she wanted to stay by her side would leave her.

yuna knew she had not been the best girlfriend to you, but in the end it got her what she wanted. so why didn’t she feel proud? why did she feel so empty? why did she feel like it wasn’t worth it, even though she had accomplished everything she wanted to do?

the president didn’t even realize that tears were falling down her face until you started wiping them, a sad smile adorning your face. “yuna,” your voice brought her attention to your eyes.

“what happened to us aside, i’m always going to admire your desire to be the best.”

your hands wiped the tears from her cheeks, and she did her best to wipe the ones falling from your eyes as well. the both of you stayed like that for a few moments, each of you taking in the reality that this was the end of the line for your relationship.

except, even though you both knew it was coming, it didn’t make it any less harder to acknowledge it in reality.

“i got in to the program overseas,” she whispered finally after a few moments. the smile on your face would forever be burned into her memory. you looked so proud of her, even with your own tears falling down your face. “but i don’t want to go without you.”

your hands cupped the raven haired girl’s face, and your thumbs stroked her cheeks. you knew yuna was scared, all of these emotions running through her also didn’t help. shin yuna hated change, and when everything was changing all at once? it was too much for her to handle.

“yuna,” your soft tone made her whimper. she rarely broke down like this, but whenever she did, it was only in front of you or ryujin. “you’ve worked too hard to not go. it would break my heart if you stayed here, especially after how hard you worked.”

“but i can’t do it without you,” she insisted, already hating the mere idea of not living four houses down from you. she hated the thought of not being able to sneak in through your bedroom window or kiss you good morning.

truth be told, those moments with you would be what she remembered about high school.

“you can do it, i know you can.” you gave her a reassuring smile, the same one that always made her feel like she could conquer the world. “besides, i think backing out from your duties is against school standards.” you joked, which made her let out a small laugh.

yuna knew she would forever remember you as the girl who gave her the strength to do the impossible.

the next day was the long awaited day for all of the seniors. since yuna was the student council president, she was in charge of giving the final farewell speech at the end. after all the seniors had received their diplomas, including herself, she finally walked up to the podium to begin her short speech.

“hello and good evening, my name is shin yuna, and this will be my final message to you all as the student body president.” she smiled sadly before looking at her council members sitting behind her.

“i'd like to first thank all of my members, who helped make this year run smoother than ever. i could not have done it on my own, so thank you.”

she turned back to face the front, eyes scanning the sea of people until hers finally met yours. there you were, in the first row, sitting next to her sister ryujin. she couldn’t fight the smile on her face before she continued speaking.

“this last semester consisted of a lot of changes, and for some of us, these changes will determine our futures. if i'm being honest here, i hate change.”

a few of her classmates laughed, adding some comedic relief to the emotional moment before she kept speaking. “but truthfully, i think that this season of change is good for each of us. i know that most of us will probably never see each other again, but i hope you all know that im so thankful for all of you. the class of 2022 will forever hold a special place in my heart, and it has been an honor to spend these last four years with you. i know the future president will do well, congratulations again, ahn yujin.”

yuna’s eyes watered at the memories she had spent within the walls of her high school. after working so hard for four years, after growing up beside her friends, after getting into her dream school, and after falling in love with you, this chapter of her life was finally coming to a close.

“thank you all for being the best mentors, classmates, and friends. it has been an honor to serve you all your student council president. i wish us all the best of luck in our futures, and i hope you all remember this moment and the ones we’ve shared throughout the years forever.”

once yuna took her seat, the principal finally stood and spoke a few words before he instructed the senior class to stand to prepare for the moving of the tassel.

“seniors, please move your tassels.”

confetti canons fired, cheers and thunderous applause erupted from the crowd. however, in the midst of the noise, yuna’s eyes met yours. you looked at her with nothing but love and adoration, pure pride dripped from your features, and in that mere moment, shin yuna knew that she loved you.

it wasn’t like she had any doubts before, there wasn’t a moment where she lost feelings for you. but as she stood in front of you on a stage, diploma in hand, and tassel flipped, she knew that she would love you unconditionally.

because true, unconditional love means to love someone, even though you may not be together anymore.

even though yuna kept the rules word by word, the one thing she should have kept was your heart. it only took her 3 years and a graduation ceremony to realize that nothing else mattered. not her presidency, not her friends, not her grades. everything meant nothing if she didn’t have you. she still did have a part of you, as you had a part of her, even though you both knew your relationship was over.

as yuna looked out at you on that stage, despite chaer, yeji, and jisu all jumping on top of her, she smiled at you.

she smiled at you knowing that the only way she would catch her flight to the united states in 3 days would be knowing that she was still completely in love with you.

but the best part was that you smiled back at her, because you already knew.

“im so proud of you.” you mouthed as tears fell down your cheeks, which only made yuna’s tears flow harder. she had never seen you cry until now.

she held her hand to her chest before mouthing back at you.

“i love you.”

a/n: I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT OF MY DRAFTS SO IM SORRY IF THIS SEEMS RUSHED

#shin yuna #yuna x reader #shin yuna x reader #itzy #itzy x reader #shin ryujin #choi jisu #yeji #chaeryeong #kpop #kpop angst #school standards #perfect sunlight

922 notes · View notes