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januaryrabbit · 2 years ago

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seventeen w/ a crush on their roommate’s friend ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

+how their roomies would react LOl

pairing: seventeen x gn reader, college au

word count: 3.7k

warnings: some cursing, but besides that nothing! just wholesome crushes hehe

other disclaimers: lowercase intended, i only kinda proofread this because i am a lazy gal, author teasing members as always heheh, members teasing each other :)

song recs: mixtape: oh - stray kids

a/n: hi everyone! i finally posted again~ i’ve gotten a few new followers since then so WELCOME !!!! this is my first svt post, im posting this right before im seeing svt live!! <3 i really hope to write more because i think about seventeen a lot LMAO. like. like a Lot. anyway, i hope you enjoy!! id love to hear your soft thoughts or thoughts about this writing!!! my ask is always open to talk hehe

✩‧₊˚seungcheol:

would try his best to be normal but HIS ROOMMATES WON’T LET HIM LIVE FJFJAJDK. a lot of people write him as a charismatic girlboss, and i completely understand why, but idk s.coups kinda gives me shy-aroudn-his-crush vibes? to be fair though, his roomies are partially to blame….every time joshua and jeonghan bring you over, jeonghan always calls out “oh seungcheol……..y/n is here!!!!!” you’re kind of like ??? why are you announcing my arrival like that bro?? and joshua snickers as he sees seungcheol poke his head out of his room and greets you with a small smile, his dimples showing on the side of his face you can clearly see peeking out from the door frame. i think he’d definitely get blushy whenever you talk to him, especially when he can see his roomies looking at the two of you interact as well. has trouble making eye contact with you for both those reasons (which you think is cute!!), but refuses to not at least say hello. jeonghan just LIVES for putting cheol on the spot because it’s funny to him lmao. “doesn’t y/nnie looks cute today?” and seungcheol is like WHY. WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS and joshua is texting the groupchat about it IN FRONT OF YOU AND CHEOL with a giddy smile on his face LMAO. as far as interacting with you, i think because his roomies are so embarrassing and because he thinks you’re so cute, he wouldn’t be able to bear doing much besides saying hello every time you’re around. i think he’d be able to muster up the courage to ask you out if he was alone with you at some point. i think he’d be able to feel more comfy being himself if hannie and shua weren’t around to poke fun at him lmao. both of you should expect some teasing from them though!!!

✩‧₊˚jeonghan:

Obviously he’s a menace. flirts with you a little, partly to piss off joshua LOL (“bro stop flirting with my friend it’s WEIRD!!!!!!!!!!). always pays you a compliment whenever he sees you, saying that you look cute today (today = every time you’re in his vicinity lol). will always take your side in any playful argument you have w/ josh. joshua is always like >___> why!!!!! but jeonghan does it anyway; your flustered face when he sends compliments your way is just so adorable that he can’t help himself. i don’t think he’d bother you guys too much besides that, keeping his boundaries for the most part, but he’d definitely throw the occasional wink your way to embarrass you (which works). would ask to come if you guys were going out to eat, complaining that joshua never eats with him and that he wants to sit next to you because you’re way nicer than joshua. (rip to shua having to watch all this happen in front of his poor eyes). i think jeonghan is shameless and would just ask you out when he feels like it, even if it was in front of his friends.

✩‧₊˚joshua:

LOL ok joshua gives me the energy of someone who would try to be cool/funny around his crush DFSjjdskf. like he would sooo go out of his way to tell some sort of funny joke around you whenever you’re over, either to you or cheol/jeonghan (they both think it’s cringe but they respect the attempt being made so they don’t say anything). more often than not, josh doesn’t get the reaction he hopes for (i mean, bursting out laughing at every single joke he makes is pretty unrealistic….) but he considers it a win every time you so much as smile even a little. he’s the type to make small-to-medium converversation with you until you start talking to him more, and he’s really good at making you feel welcome in their apartment! always offers you water or a blanket when you look stressed from finals lmao. would probably not bother you and jeonghan that much besides that. jeonghan thinks it’s hilarious that joshua keeps trying to win you over with his dumb jokes but he keeps the teasing to a minimum in front of you out of appreciation for josh :) i think joshua is definitely someone who’d be straightforward if he was interested in you – after holding some conversations with you and talking to jeonghan about it, i think joshua is someone that would definitely try to ask you out to eat, just the two of you!!! provided that you say yes, he’d definitely go all out and NOT let you guys waste your night in his dinky apartment. after all, he is a gentleman :)

✩‧₊˚jun:

SHY BITCH!!! so shy..i feel like he would really want to try to get to know you but he’s so like jfsfks//?@93959fsjs in his mind and panicking that he would just word vomit at you………….”HEY Y/NHOWAREYOUI’MGOODWHATAREYOUANDMINGHAOUPTOTODAYI’MJUSTSTUDYINGHAHAWELLHAVEFUN” and disappears into his room, cringing at his inability to talk to you. minghao finds his best friend’s crush on you so fucking funny that he can’t help but try to help him out a bit when the two of you are alone. he kinda gives me the “hey bro thanks for letting me borrow the lambhourgini” vibes LOL. like “oh did you know jun is single right now? man he’s sooo good looking, isn’t he?” which does nothing but make jun want to die of embarrassment. it’s a shock to both of them that it actually works on you, because you slowly start to greet jun more and hold conversations with him. you always thought he was cute, but hearing all the nice things minghao has to say about him intrigues you quite a bit. in turn, having you initiate helps jun become more comfortable/confident talking to you as well, and while he’s still kind of shy he doesn’t run off like he used to LOL. jun eventually goes to minghao to tell him that he’s going to ask you out, and minghao is like Yeah man do it you just have to give me relationship credit for the rest of your life, heheh.

✩‧₊˚hoshi:

this guy would try to be smooth af every time you come over to hang with jihoon…like you go to the kitchen to get water, and hosh is there making a sandwich or something and he’s like “oh hey y/n, didn’t see you there…” even though he’d lowkey been procrastinating on making his sandwich (which, truthfully, he wasn’t even hungry for), hoping you’d come outside LOL. you respond like. uh. hey………….??? and you get your water and get back to jihoon’s room. hosh counts this as a win – he’s bragging to his roomie after you leave like “they’re totally into me…this acting aloof thing is so working.” (jihoon replies with nothing but a look of disgust). but hoshi can’t keep up the facade forever, methinks. he’s an excitable and energetic person, after all! eventually he would start to act more like himself around you. you come over one day and hosh runs over to you, phone in hand, showing you his screen. “y/n, did you watch the new episode of haikyuu yet???? nishinoya looks so cool!!!” and talk a bunch about it with you. the more comfortable he becomes with you, the more touchy he becomes as well, putting his arm around you and perhaps touching your shoulder now and then. he also gives me the vibes of someone who’d just go for it (again, after clearing it with jihoon). one day you’re leaving and he catches you in the hallway – you’re kinda nervous (ahhh!!!! he’s hot!!!!) and you’re like “uh what’s up soonyoung?” he smiles cheerfully; your curiosity is so cute to him. he takes a deep breath and says: “would you wanna go out sometime without me?” well?????? do you say yes??????? ;)

✩‧₊˚wonwoo:

Unironically i think wonwoo would be the most normal about liking mingyu’s friend lol. every time you come over, he just says hello and asks how you’re doing, casually trying to get to know you. if you and mingyu (and sometimes cheol and vernon) watch a movie in the living room, more often than not wonwoo joins with you guys because he’s “bored” and “has nothing else to do”...but really he just wants to hang with you. i think he’d be really sweet about liking you!! if you mention something (like a drink or snack or something) that you like, he’d definitely get it for you the next time he stumbles upon it at the grocery store. he smiles to himself every time (including in the grocery store) he thinks of you – which, as you start to come around more, is becoming more frequent. mingyu doesn’t actually realize that wonu likes you, but the latter eventually caves in and admits it to his friend. mingyu encourages him to go after you!!! so one night, after a considerable amount of contemplation, wonwoo decides to take the plunge and he calls you. “hey – would you want to get coffee with me next week?”

✩‧₊˚jihoon:

my bias wrecker <3 lmao jihoonie strikes me as the nervous type. i feel like he’d be slightly annoyed that he can’t relax at home because you’re always there hanging out with soonyoung. he’d leave his room to get coffee and see you sitting on the couch studying with soonie and think like “god damnit WHY ARE THEY HERE!!!! I DON’T HAVE A GOOD OUTFIT ON!!!!!!!!” and immediately clam up when you greet him with a hello. awkward as he is, he kind of avoids you so he doesn’t make an utter fool of himself when you’re around. he doesn’t realize though that it kinda comes off like he hates you because he avoids you…you end up asking soonyoung if you did anything to offend his friend, to which he replies with a hearty laugh that only confuses you more. “wait, why are you laughing?” you ask, and your friend leans forward a bit, beckoning you to do the same. “y/n. my friend jihoon likes you.” he says in a deadpan tone. yours eyes widen, genuinely not expecting that to be the reason as to why he’s so weird around you. within the next few days, a wave of confidence hits you and you eventually approach jihoon about all of this. contrary to the others, you actually end up asking him out, all the while begging him not to be upset with soonie for telling you. he goes through a series of emotions all in that moment, irritation with soonyoung, embarrassment that you’d beat him to the punch of confessing, stress about how long you’ve known, but utmost gratitude to the universe that you return his feelings <3

✩‧₊˚seokmin:

oh seokminnie…<3 i think he would be pretty shy as well, and talkative because he’s nervous around you. like. overly talkative. because there is a cute person standing in front of him. in his living room. he just can’t help but be smiley and excited !! his brain is like AHHHHH but irl he talks to you a bunch and asks you about your interests a lot!!! i think he’d also share his own with you too, so he can lowkey put out feelers to see if you might be interested in him or if you guys would get along. he’s definitely extra smiley around you and pleasant; you bring that out in him :) and he would probably ask joshua and seungkwan if you’re single/interested in him lol. worries he comes off as weird sometimes (seungkwan says: Yes you do.) because of how much he talks when you’re around, but you don’t really see it that way at all – if anything, he’s made you feel very welcome in their home. would probably try to subtly impress you, showing you his cooking or talking about a paper he aced recently. all in all, he’s a smiley boye that gets really giddy if you’re around!! would probably directly ask you to hang out after sometime :)

✩‧₊˚mingyu:

this man is a bumbling idiot who’s whipped for you LMAO!! you’re friends with wonu – you guys are in the same major, so you often do hw together, study or just hang out and watch movies together. mingyu is always around when you’re over at the apartment, he kind of follows you around like a golden retriever lol. lowkey overstays his welcome HAHAHA; he doesn’t really leave you or wonwoo alone ljdjkfjasdk. wonwoo is kinda like “??? what are you doing ???” when mingyu emerges from his room with his own study materials and plops down on the living room floor next to you. mingyu replies “studying. obviously.” very casually as he looks up at his friend from where you’re both sitting on the floor. wonu is confused as to why mingyu wants to study with you two, but once the older boy realizes that his friend likes you, it’s hard to actually be annoyed with him about it. mingyu always shoots smiles your way and subtly touches your arm when talking to you; he always takes the seat next to you if it’s vacant. wonwoo is lowkey grossed out watching his best friend be such a huge simp, but mingyu does not! care! you are cute and he’s going to spend time with you, deal w/ it wonu!!! would definitely ask you to hang out alone at some point, but not before running it by wonwoo. i think mingyu would be very clear with his intentions from the beginning, which is why he’d want to spend time with you whenever you’re over. his eyes are shining with affection when he asks if you want to go for a walk in the park with him (wonu is asleep peacefully on the floor, you both put a blanket on him LMAOO); will you go with him?

✩‧₊˚minghao:

he would be Normal LOL. but he would definitely send a smile your way every time you came over to hang out with junnie. unironically tries to dress fashionably-casual every time you’re over instead of wearing whatever he wore to bed the night before. besides that, i mostly see him keeping to himself; i don’t think he would go out of his way to interact with you a ton like mingyu just because he’s more of a chill guy lol and he doesn’t want to make you uncomfy by giving you a bunch of attention, you know? will definitely offer you tea when he goes to make some though, especially when you’re over studying late with jun. minghao definitely wants to get to know you more, talk to you, and share stories with you, but i think he would really take his time with a situation like this; he sees no reason to rush approaching you. he gets to know you little by little, and lets you get to know him at the same pace too. he would definitely wait for an opportune moment to fall into his lap when it comes to asking you out – i picture you two coming back from the convenience store with snacks for jun (:3c) and talking casually, when suddenly the topic becomes dating. you mention being single, and minghao calmly expresses his feelings for you, asking you out :) tbh i went overboard w this one i could write an entire oneshot about this concept idk someone stop me

✩‧₊˚seungkwan:

this guy is going to tease chan so much in front of you to impress you LOl DJASFKDSfjd. like you and chan are getting ready to go out and seungkwan comes by and is like “oh my god what are you WEARING…….” and teases him to oblivion. and as someone who also enjoys making fun (in a lighthearted way!!) of chan too you find seungkwan to be super funny. kwan swears that your small laugh could send him into cardiac arrest with how cute he finds it – he also lives for making fun of chan too, so he finds this to be a win-win situation for him lmao. when you leave, chan is just like “!!!! stop making fun of me in front of y/n!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TT__TT” and seungkwan is like “lol maybe if you weren’t such a clown, i wouldn’t have to………..” but yeah i also think kwan wants to show you how cool he is lolol. i see him casually humming/singing to himself, showing off his beautiful voice, and you’re like “wow…you have such a nice singing voice!” and he’s like “OMG OMG…im SO embarrassed…YOU HEARD THAT??? OMG IM GONNA DIE…”but on the inside he’s like they like my voice………………….theyre so CUTE……………” as for asking you out, i don’t think that he’d be the one to make the first move. as much as he likes to show off in front of you, when it comes to actually facing you and admitting his feelings he is SHY af LMAO!!! unfortunately, you’re probably going to have to take the reigns on this one and confess first, but if you do his Cool Slay Exterior is going to melt immediately and you’ll be left with a blushing seungkwannie who admits, while looking down on the floor: “i-i……..like you too……….”

✩‧₊˚vernon:

ngl he gives me nervous wreck vibes HAHHA. not quite as shy as jun (lmaoooo) but more like he kind of clams up when you’re around..you know that little wave vern does when he’s feeling a bit shy? Yeah. yeah you see that every time you come over. while he’s hanging out in his room, he secretly agonizes over whether or not to go to the kitchen when you’re around lol. “should i???? can i handle having to look at them????? can i live without water until they go home????” in the beginning, vernon actually did once not leave his room while you were over; it’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to you or be around you, but more like he can’t because otherwise he just becomes an awkward mess!!! and you don’t need to see that!! nope!! seungkwan and chan are a bit puzzled by his behavior around you; vern is a good looking, friendly guy, but for whatever reason when he’s around you he’s just like. so incredibly not that at all, to the point where his friends wonder who the heck that guy is standing in front of you and stuttering because it’s certainly not vernon!! i think the way you’d be able to see more of his true personality/self is if he isn’t talking to you or if he doesn’t know you’re around. when he’s having a funny conversation with kwan (“i’m not a comedian.” “no one said you were…………”), you giggle a little at the exchange, finding his teasing of seungkwan to be quite cute. i think he’s another one where you’d have to take the reins and approach him more; besides the fact that you make him nervous, he feels kind of weird for liking his roomie’s friend. but rest assured, if you say something, he’d definitely want to go out with you :)

✩‧₊˚chan:

this fucking GUY………….my ANNOYING bias…….(/j, /lh, im in love w him). if you’re over at the apartment to hang out with seungkwan and/or vernon, he’s going to make Every Single Excuse to drop by and see you lol. hanging out in vernon’s room? dino will come in like every 20 mins and say like “hyung, i’m making noodles do you want some? what about you, y/n?” watching tv with seungkwan? chan announces that “i’m going to get my laundry downstairs. if you need me, call me.” and then he’d give you a little wave or smile. honestly, you’re kind of in awe of how close the three of them seem to be, and you think it’s cool how they seem to communicate with each other well like that! unbeknownst to you though, vernon and seungkwan find it so annoying LMAOOO…..seungkwan is like “why do you only offer to make us food when y/n’s here -____-” and “ why do you keep interrupting us, we’re trying to watch attorney woo!!! get out!!!! -____-” vernon is less…direct about it, he finds it more hilarious than annoying. when you’re gone, he’ll tell chan stuff like “dude, you don’t have to tell us every time you step out…” and ask why chan gets so weird every time you come over. both older boys can tell their roomie is down horrendous for you, but chan is shameless lol. he definitely asks vern and kwan if you ever talk about him to which they both reply “god no shut up!!! -__-” eventually he admits to them that he likes you (“ok guys…i gotta be honest…i like y/n idk….”) and both of them are just like ?? why did you have to announce this, it’s SO obvious….and chan is just ?????????? IT IS??????? anyway, when he feels it’s time, he’s not going to do anything until he knows that vernon and kwan are 100% ok with him approaching you romantically. (seungkwan: you’ve been throwing yourself at them constantly, why do you need our permission now?????) once they express they’re comfy, he would probably waste no time lol. next time you come over, he offers to walk you to your car and as you’re in the parking lot, he asks you out right there :)))) i’d say yes, would you???

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theje0ngs · 3 years ago

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JJH | 𝙒𝙃𝙔 𝙃𝙄𝙈?

“Why him?”

“People always say you get butterflies or fireworks when you see someone you like, when you talk to them, when you hold their hand. It wasn’t like that with Jaehyun.”

PAIRING/CHARACTERS ✎ jaehyun x fem!reader ft. brother!johnny

GENRE/CATEGORY ✎ just pure fluff and romance(?)

DETAILS ✎ part of the ‘no more roses’ collab hosted by @cosmiclatte28; flower option: daffodils (happiness & new beginning).

CONTENT WARNINGS ✎ profanity, mentions food

WORD COUNT ✎ 4.8k

GELA SAYS ✎ HAPPY JAEHYUN DAY! in commemoration to jaehyun’s birthday and valentine’s, here’s a fic for you guys! this was such an interesting collab and i enjoyed writing this one! i added johnny as the brother because... well, johnny gives me big brother vibes lol and this has like a lot of dialogues because i was aiming for a interview/video type of thing.

SONG REC ✎ my brothers and i - didn’t see it coming

HAPPY READING!

“Hey guys, it’s Johnny.” Johnny greets, waving to the cameras positioned in every angle of the room.

Everybody inside the white-colored film production warehouse were wary of their actions and minimized their voices. Johnny, in their group, is known to be the one who loves photography and film. Everybody knows that he puts a lot of effort when it comes to those two things. To him, it is a privilege to be the one to arrange your wedding video. It was his plan actually— he was the one who suggested it and was willing to create an interview for you and Jaehyun.

Even though you and Johnny were siblings, there are some things he’s willing to learn about you and your relationship with his groupmate, Jaehyun. He was so sure that he isn’t the only one who’s dying to know. He’s sure most of your family and friends are too. Your relationship with Jaehyun, to sum it up, has always been so lowkey and private that even your brother took a few months before he figured that Jaehyun, and you were going out.

“This video isn’t my usual content, this is not JCC or whatever.” he chuckled, holding onto the little script he made, “This is actually a very special video; something I’m sure that I will only create once in a lifetime, so I made sure to put a lot of effort and used all my connections just to make this video. As you can see, we used high-tech cameras!”

“As you all know, my not-so-little-sister is getting married. I still can’t believe it because in my head, she’s still so young. She’s still the little girl I wished to my parents— even though I wanted a baby brother, the heavens gave me a little sister.” Johnny jokes, “Nevertheless, I’m very happy to be her big brother. Though I missed a lot of events in her life because I was building a career in Korea, while she was in Chicago, working hard to enter med school.”

Johnny flips the paper onto the next page, not wanting to be emotional so early. “To my sister, and to my soon-to-be, no, by the time this video is uploaded, my brother-in-law. This is one of my gifts to the both of you.”

You and Jaehyun, hand in hand, enter the warehouse after receiving the cue from the production team, they guide you to the middle of the set where a black couch was placed next to Johnny, who was sitting on a single chair. As soon as you sat down and got comfortable next to your fiancé, you smiled at the camera and to your brother.

“Gee, I can’t believe that my sibling and the person I treated as my brother for years are getting married!” Johnny gagged jokingly, you shot him a threatened look. “I’m just kidding. Please introduce yourself to our viewers.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Hi everyone, I’m Y/N Suh, I’m Johnny’s sister.”

“Hi! I’m Jaehyun of NCT, and fortunately, I will be Johnny’s brother-in-law.”

“We’re gonna be stuck with each other forever, dude.” Johnny comments, “Just imagine, you’re marrying my sister. It’s like you’re marrying me as well.”

“Johnny, seriously?”

Your brother chuckles, turning the script to another page. “Back to the main purpose of this video… Could you tell us how long you have been together?”

“We’ve been together for five years.” Jaehyun answered, a little bit shocked by the number.

“I know this question sounds silly, but for the sake of the viewers, how did you two meet?”

“We met after my college graduation,” You answered, “I remember moving to Korea for Med School. Mom, Dad and I thought that it would be better to practice medicine in the country because they planned to move back here once they retire.”

“Okay hold on,” Johnny interrupted, “I thought the reason why you entered Med School here is because our parents had sent you to spy on me!”

“Johnny, I arrived here when you were 26. Did you seriously think mom and dad would still ask me to spy on you when you were that old?”

SIX YEARS AGO.

Johnny called the members of 127 for a ‘short meeting’ at their apartment. The eight men were seated in a circle in the living room, some were on the floor – busy playing and scrolling through their phones while the others took the couch and were talking with each other. Despite his jolly, playful and cheerful personality, Johnny can be intimidating sometimes. Especially when he’s serious. The older boy stood tall in the middle of the living room with his hand shoved in his pocket, his foot anxiously tapping on the floor as he stared at his wristwatch. Any minute now, his little sister will be arriving.

“As you all know, Y/N will be staying with me– us, for a week until she moves into her own apartment. I know we treat each other as brothers, so please… I beg of you all, do not hit on my sister.” Johnny said, putting a stress on each word.

Taeil’s laughter breaks the awkward silence surrounding the room, “I can’t speak for these people, but I won’t hit on Y/N.”

“Taeil promised, you should all promise me as well.” Johnny whined, stomping his foot like a toddler until the members nodded their heads. “Great, she’s in the lobby right now. I’m gonna fetch her. Meeting adjourned!”

When the elevator doors opened, Johnny saw you outside the building, paying the taxi driver. It has been years since he last saw you in person, the last time was in your first year of university. You remember your older brother sulked for a few days when you weren’t able to come home or watch his concert due to hectic schedules at the university. Since then, you only see each other through FaceTime and other social media platforms. Seeing him again after years made you reminisce about the little things you experienced with your brother growing up. Your childhood and teenage years spent with Johnny was fun; he was always that chill, annoying yet protective brother, the one who randomly stared at you just to annoy you, the one who read your middle school diaries, and the one who would never let you forget about the time you slipped on the stairs when you were in high school.

Johnny just couldn’t believe it; you were already finished with university and will be attending medical school. In his eyes, you were still that little girl who stole his lollipop.

“How’s mom and dad? How’s Chicago?” He asked, helping you put your luggages on the trolley.

“They’re fine, mom cried when she and dad dropped me off at the airport.” you answered, “Chicago’s the same. I’m also doing great— not that you asked.”

“Please, don’t you think I know that?” He teased, pushing the trolley to the elevator. “Welcome to Korea, little one. I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too, dummy. And you’re acting like I haven’t stepped foot in this country, hello? I’ve been here a couple of times!”

Jaehyun and Haechan were the only ones left in the living room, Taeil, Doyoung and Yuta went out for a quick snack run. Taeyong was in his room, making yet another song with Mark, and Jungwoo was sleeping in their shared bedroom on the 10th floor. He isn’t usually the one who stays in the common area of the 5th floor dorm, but because he was watching a series with loud sound effects that would only disturb his roommate, he opted to stay in the living room with the youngest. He was preparing snacks when he heard the front door open, Johnny was back.

“Oh, Jaehyun, you’re still here.” Johnny greets, kicking his shoes off and pushed the trolley inside the room.

“Yeah, Haechan and I are planning to finish the final season of this series we’re watching.” Jaehyun said, smiling at you and offered his hand. “Hi.”

You smiled back, shaking his hand. “Hello, I’m Y/N. Johnny’s—”

“Bup bup bup bup bup!” Your brother removes Jaehyun’s hand from yours and faces you. “You’re tired, it’s past midnight. You need rest.”

“I was actually hoping to eat some ramen—”

Johnny opened the door of his bedroom, gently pushing you inside. He pointed two fingers to his eyes then to Jaehyun’s, “I’m watching you.” he said, closing the door.

The younger man chuckled, holding a bowl of popcorn, and sat next to Haechan. He was about to hit play, but Haechan grabbed the remote control from his hand with a sly smile on his face.

“You like Y/N, don’t you?”

“What are you on, Haechan?” Jaehyun laughed, “I’m not, I’m just being friendly to let her know she’s welcome here.”

Haechan shook his head, not satisfied with Jaehyun’s answer. “Please, I’ve known you for so long. Your smile and the little ‘hi’ basically tells me that you like her.”

Jaehyun shook his head, took the remote from the youngest’s hand and played the video. Jaehyun was a hundred percent sure he doesn’t like you, he made a promise to Johnny that he wouldn’t hit on you. Besides, this was the first time he’s seen you in person.

“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

“Damn it, Haechan!”

“I didn’t actually expect him to be the one you’re dating, Y/N. I was thinking it was Mark at first because they were the same age and were always so close whenever he had movie nights at the dorm or her apartment,” Johnny said, earning a laugh from Jaehyun. “And even though I don’t want to admit it, Y/N and Jaehyun hiding their relationship from me made me sulk for a week.”

“What do you mean ‘a week’? You didn’t bother talking to me for almost a month!”

“The viewers don’t need to know that Y/N!”

Jaehyun laughs next to you as he watches you and Johnny bicker. “Do you remember the time we won a daesang? You invited Y/N to join us for dinner, right?” Jaehyun chimes in, “You were confused that we came in together at the restaurant.”

“Yeah, because Y/N told me you and her coincidentally met at a coffee shop.”

“We went out for a movie that day.”

Johnny gasps dramatically, “IS THIS WHAT BETRAYAL FEELS LIKE?”

“We weren’t dating at the time yet, Jae!” You said, “We went out to see a movie as friends.”

“HOLD ON, YOU WERE FRIENDS?!”

“What? Your friends can’t be my friends?”

It was one of those days where you randomly visit your brother and the members, random, surprise visits because most of your time is spent inside the lecture hall— learning about human anatomy and biochemistry. Five months have passed since you moved from Chicago to Seoul, it was a big change for you. From the environment to the people around you. The members have accepted and treated you like their own sister, often messaging you and asking how you were doing. Medical school is hard; harder than it was when you were a pre-med student. You were surviving off of take-out and instant foods. Doyoung and Taeyong were nice enough to serve you home cooked meal, reminding you of the time where your mom would visit you at the university and bring you your favorite meal.

It happens that one of those days, Jaehyun had asked you out for a movie. He happened to see you walking with a bunch of pizza boxes in the hallway and decided to shoot his shot. You were so confused at first - why did he ask you? Was it a date? A friendly date or a potential-lover type of date? And even though you tell your brother almost everything, you opted not to tell him this one. You were sure that Johnny would go crazy and be mad, but if things go south with Jaehyun, you wouldn’t worry about any possible situation about those two. You didn’t want to ruin the bond they created for years just because things didn’t go the way you expected.

Despite his and your busy schedule, always clashing against each other, you finally set a date. The day after they won a daesang. It was kind of a double celebration for Jaehyun, one, they won a great award. Two, he was finally going out on a date with you. He rented a whole cinema, good for two movies— one movie was the latest Spiderman, the other was his favorite movie.

“Jaehyun, what are we?” You asked, turning to look at him, who was busy munching on snacks. “You asked me out on a date, you take me here, in an empty cinema. Why… why are you doing this?”

Jaehyun stopped, he could feel himself break a cold sweat. “We… We are friends, aren't we?”

“Yeah, I guess.” You replied, returning your attention back to the screen. “Friends.”

After the movie, since you agreed to have dinner with the boys to commemorate their recent win, you and Jaehyun headed off to the restaurant. Johnny had his eyebrow raised when he saw you two enter the private room together, but you brushed it all off by saying that you saw each other at a coffee shop nearby and decided to come together. Satisfied, your brother nodded his head and offered you a seat next to him.

“How was it?” Haechan asked the older man, keeping his tone as low as possible.

He sighs, “I think I blew it off. She asked what we were, I got too scared to confess and told her we were friends.”

“Oh yeah you did blow it off,”

“Why are you guys whispering? Care to share?” Mark chimes in, curious as to why the two guys have their heads close to each other.

Haechan and Jaehyun shared a look, deciding whether to let Mark in on their little secret or not. The two got quiet as if they were conversing telepathically. “Oh, come on, are you gonna tell me or not?” Mark whined.

“Promise me you’ll keep this a secret? Only you, Haechan and I know about this.”

“I don’t remember the two of you having a conversation with each other.” Johnny interrupts Jaehyun’s story, “It was always Y/N and Mark or Y/N and Haechan because they’re closer in age. I assumed it was Mark because you’re the same age, Y/N!”

“Yeah, those two actually helped us get closer.” You answered, “Haechan always teased Jaehyun about liking someone whenever I’m around. I thought you knew or at least got the hint from it.”

“I did notice that Haechan did that a lot, but I just assumed he did that to annoy Jaehyun.”

“He dropped a lot of hints, John. Even Mark. Like a lot.”

“Haechan knew that I asked Y/N out on a date, by the way.” Jaehyun said, “Haechan, if you’re watching this— thank you so much, bro.”

“Haechan, you… I can’t believe it. He and I were roommates at the time!”

Weeks have passed since the date happened; you never saw Jaehyun again after that. Returning to your old lives, him preparing for a concert, and you studying. You planned to avoid Jaehyun for as long as you can, but your plans were interrupted when your mom asked you to bring some things to your brother.

“Hey, Y/N. What brings you to SM?” Mark asked, pressing the elevator button, and stood next to you.

“Ah, mom sent this care package and a few baby pictures of Johnny today. I’m dropping them off before I head out of town.”

The elevator door opens, Mark, being the gentleman he was, lets you ride first and pressed the button of the designated floor the two of you were going. The ride on the lift wasn’t awkward at all, Mark was telling you a funny story of how Johnny tripped during practice the other day and other things to keep you company. And as you reach the top floor, he asked you a question.

“Are you and Jaehyun a thing?”

Maybe your heart skipped a beat, you were taken aback. Were you two really a thing? Because aside from that movie ‘date’ and Jaehyun asking you out, you didn’t have any interactions anymore. You shook your head, stepping out of the elevator, “Why’d you ask?”

“I know you and him went out for a movie— Spiderman, right?” Your eyes widened, “Don’t worry, as much as I am close to Johnny, I won’t tell him anything that happened between you and Jaehyun. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“I don’t know what we are, Mark. I asked him what we were, and he replied we’re friends.” stated you, “I’m not really good at reading people, so I don’t know what’s going on inside his head.”

Mark nodded his head, satisfied with the answer he got from you. When he pushed the door of the practice room open, you were greeted by the members and your brother. He took the small box from your grasp, opening it and grabbed a few photographs. Johnny proudly showed the members the photographs from his childhood and yours, laughing and telling memories you shared in Chicago.

“Johnny, I have to go. I still have to pack my things for Busan.”

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Johnny said, standing up, “Do you want me to drive you there? How long are you going to stay there?”

“No need, my classmate already offered me a ride. We’re using his car.”

“‘His’? You’re going with your boyfriend?” Your brother teased, “Finally— someone keeping my sister late at night!”

You rolled your eyes, taking your bag from him. “The only thing that’s keeping me up at night are the books that cost much more than my monthly rent.”

“How long are you staying in Busan, Y/N?” asked Haechan, then looked at Jaehyun with a grin.

“Two weeks? Maybe even three.”

Jaehyun chokes on the water he was drinking, wetting his shirt, that long? You’ll be gone that long? ‘Why do I even bother, it’s not like I see her every day. It’s gonna be fine, she’s not dating that guy, and she’s coming back.’ Jaehyun reassured himself, “I’m gonna- I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” He said, rushing to the door.

You said goodbye to the members, walking faster towards the elevator to avoid Jaehyun - your number 1 agenda. But damn, time and the universe were playing with you. Despite your fast-paced walk, Jaehyun managed to follow you to the elevator, even barely getting inside as he entered when the door was almost a few inches close. You stare at him, waiting for some sort of explanation. Jaehyun, the person who’s confident around thousands, millions even, of fans got all shy and awkward around you. He couldn’t find the right words.

As the number on top of the door decreases, so does Jaehyun’s time to talk to you. His solution? Pressed the emergency button, causing the elevator to stop in the middle of the building.

“Jaehyun, what the—”

“Give me a few seconds to talk, please.” He blurted; you nodded your head. “First off, I’m sorry I said that we’re only friends a few weeks ago. The truth is I like you; I really like you and I’m just… I’m a coward and I’m scared that maybe you don’t feel the same with me. I like you since Johnny showed me a picture of you graduating. It was a happy crush at first, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you when you arrived in Korea months ago. I’m so dumb, I never should’ve said that we’re only friends, I should’ve confessed to you that night, but I was… actually I’m just scared of Johnny.”

You chuckled, “You like me? Like, you really like me?”

“I do. I really do.”

“So, after the two of you got stuck in the elevator… you’ve been dating since then?”

You shook your head, “You know that episode on The Big Bang Theory where Leonard and Penny were trying again for their relationship, so they agreed to have some sort of beta test.” You explained, “That’s how we did it. We realized we don’t know each other personally so we did the relationship beta test as a way to get to know each other.”

“We started dating officially by the end… I think it was her finals during her first year in Med School.”

“Mhm, and remember when you visited me at my place while I was studying and you asked why I wouldn’t let you inside my room because it was a mess?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“It’s because Jaehyun was inside my room.”

| Jaehyun: Have you eaten yet?

| Y/N: Not yet. Studying for finals tomorrow.

“Where are you going?” asked Taeyong, making all the heads of the present members who were watching a movie in the living room turn around.

“Uh, out? For a walk.”

“It’s 12 o’ clock.”

“Yeah, I uh— uh… had a big meal, gonna walk as an exercise.”

What a lame excuse, Jaehyun. He thought, but they bought it. He slipped on a pair of shoes and a mask, carefully closing the front door. Since you and Jaehyun agreed to do this relationship beta test, things have been going on so well and you were getting to know each other better. It’s been a few months since this started. As the day goes by, Jaehyun gets scared that you might get tired and eventually call it quits. He has been meaning to ask you the question you have been avoiding, but the thing is, he doesn’t know when to ask you. He did try once, when you were filled up with wine and fell asleep on the couch. He didn’t receive any answer from you then.

He knows your routine during exams, study for 18 hours, eat for one, sleep for five. And that cycle repeats for a week or two during exam season. As tiring as his job can be, Jaehyun has no idea how you can survive that kind of routine. To ensure that you were eating, Jaehyun brought a bunch of healthy take-outs. And since you don’t want to be bothered while studying, Jaehyun knew the passcode of your apartment (which you gave with your consent). He prepares the table for you, leaving a space for your notes and books on the dining table, a few inches away from the food.

“I smelled spicy soup,” you said, walking towards the dining table with a handful of papers in your hand.

Jaehyun turns off the stove, transfers the soup to a bowl and serves it to you. “Alright missy, papers down, spoon’s up.”

You giggle at his remark, placing the papers on the table and took a sip of the flavorful soup. While eating, Jaehyun offered to help you memorize some terminologies from your paper, helping you refresh your memory.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about our whole beta test thingy.” You say, completely ignoring Jaehyun’s question regarding anatomy. “Maybe we should um… stop it?”

“Huh? All of a sudden? D-did I do something wrong?”

You shook your head, putting away the spoon. “No, no, it’s not that it’s… I think it’s time for us to be real, you know? Let’s put a label on this relationship even though it’s a secret. Because starting today, you are my...” You smiled, taking his hand. “Boyfie.”

Stunned, Jaehyun was frozen. ‘Is this real? Am I dreaming?’ he thought, his mouth dropped slightly as you giggled out of happiness. “Am I—”

Jaehyun’s sentence was cut off when the doorbell rang. Confused, you let go of his hand and walked towards the door, peeking through the small peep hole only to see your brother standing outside. ‘Shit.’ You thought, rushing back to the kitchen where your now boyfriend was still frozen on the spot.

“You have to hide.”

“What—”

“Johnny’s outside, you have to hide.” You panicked, taking his arm and forcing him to walk towards your bedroom. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was coming. Or if you don’t want to hide, we can uh… tell him the truth now?”

“I don’t think now’s the right time, we literally just started dating.” He said, sitting on your bed.

“Okay, stay here. Lock the door, and don’t make any noise, okay?”

Hours have passed since you started filming and it felt like the interview wasn't coming to an end. It was nice reminiscing your memories with Jaehyun, because starting in a few weeks, you will spend forever with this man and build new memories together. Johnny flips his script down to the last page, smiling from ear to ear as he looks at the content written.

“I’ve been saving this question, because you know what they say, save the best for the last. Props, please bring the headphones here.”

The staff hands Johnny a pair of headphones, lending it for you to wear. “I want the two of you to hear each other’s answers on your wedding day. It’ll be special, trust me. I’m a romanticist.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled, taking the headphones from him and listened to the music playing. You looked up to your brother and gave him a thumbs up, signifying that you couldn’t hear them talking anymore.

“Why her?” Johnny asked.

Jaehyun looks at you with a big smile on his face, squeezing your hand before looking back to your brother. “She had me at hello, Johnny.” He answered, “I know it wasn’t cool of me to break the bro code, especially rule number 1: sisters are off-limits. But when I saw her, I was stunned. I was mesmerized. And I know this would sound crazy, but… the moment I saw her? I knew she was the one. She’s like the iced coffee I drink on a hot summer day, or the hot chocolate I love during winter. She… she makes me feel special, wanted, loved— everything. I care about her; I care about her more than I care about myself. I love the little things about her, like when we’re having a little date night at her place or mine. I love seeing her eyes sparkle whenever she sees my collection of vinyl or wine or watching some old 70’s romantic movies. I love seeing her so happy whenever we see dogs across the street. And I love how strong she is. She’s my everything, bro, I can’t imagine my life without her. She’s my happiness.”

“You’re in love, Jae.” Johnny expressed, “Thank you for loving my sister. She deserves your love, and you deserve hers.”

The staff offers Jaehyun a pair of headphones, taking away yours. When Jaehyun gave Johnny the signal, he nodded his head and let out a deep, heavy sigh. He threw his head back, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Y/N…” Your brother started, “I, damn it, I can’t believe I’m crying. I just want to say how happy I am for you. Pre-med school, med school, and now you’re in residency and about to tie the knot.”

You take a handkerchief from your pockets, lending it to your brother. “We always knew that this day would come, Johnny. I’m always going to be the Suhs’ baby girl, even if I’m getting married. Until I grow old and get wrinkles and stuff.”

“I know…” He sniffed, “My question is, why him? Why Jaehyun?”

“People always say you get butterflies or fireworks when you see someone you like, when you talk to them, when you hold their hand. It wasn’t like that with Jaehyun.” You answered, “I feel comfort when I’m with him, whenever I hold his hand in a terrifying situation, I calm down. In messy situations, I look for him, and he would be there for me. That’s it, I knew what I was into, I knew he was the one. Although from the very beginning, it was messy— we didn’t know what we were, we didn’t know things about each other. It’s the little things that made me fall in love with him. It’s his actions, it’s his words of affirmation. The thought of marrying him puts me at peace. We may have hit bumps in our relationship but at the end of the day, we have each other.”

“Like mom and dad?”

You nodded, “Falling in love with him wasn’t exactly falling. It was like walking inside a house and knowing that you’re home. He’s my happiness.”

After the interview, you and Jaehyun walk out of the production warehouse hand in hand and head to the almost empty parking space. The sky was dark and cloudy, lightning might’ve appeared somewhere, and the rain started pouring. Falling in love with Jaehyun was like a dream, it feels surreal, it feels unbelievable. Suddenly, Jaehyun was holding your waist while the other was still in your hand. He was swaying your bodies to the imaginary music he had in his head.

Dancing in the pouring rain, Jaehyun was holding you tight. Giggling as you dance, not giving a damn about your wet clothes or the fact that the production team was watching the two of you in admiration. He smiled at you, planting a kiss on your cheek before saying: “Our new beginning starts now,”

DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE.

#cznnet #kflixnet #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #jaehyun smut #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct 127 smut #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #nct smut #nct ff #nct x you #nct x reader

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stardustsunny · 2 years ago

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{05:17 pm}

Words count: 651 Pairing: Yeonjun x gn!reader (ft. brother! Wooyoung) Genre: angst, a pinch of fluff, unrequited love

Song rec.: Hideyuki Fukasawa - Ocean of Memories

a/n: I’m back lmao and I wrote smth angsty because I dreamt about the unrequited love thingy since…December ig?? Hope you like it!! And don’t forget to leave feedback cause it helps me improve and keeps me inspired :> Like and reblog to help promote the work!

You were sitting at the table, leaning onto your right hand, your mind was elsewhere while your eyes were fixated on one certain boy sitting before you and talking to your brother - Choi Yeonjun. You knew him since forever cause he is your brother's best friend who happened to come over to your house almost every day after school. But he is not only your brother's friend but yours too. He is always kind and nice to you, sometimes helping you with something, especially related to study cause he is quite smart and has high grades as far as you know from your brother, Wooyoung.

Yeonjun mostly came to your house to hang out with your brother, but there are those rare moments when he shows up abruptly at times when your brother isn't home yet and you keep him company for a while. You always think about these moments as the best ones, because you have that alone time where you can talk to the boy about anything and enjoy his presence. You can look at his sunny smile and hear his boisterous laugh when you said some lame joke and keep it in your memory to remember when you have bad days.

Being in his presence always felt warm like you are sitting under the spring sunshine. Yeonjun comforted you a few times when you had rough days at school. He wiped your tears with his soft hands and told you some stupid stuff that makes you laugh through the tears and then gives you hugs to calm you down.

However, as time went by you noticed that he rarely came over to your brother. At first, it's just 2-3 times a week, then once in two weeks, and then two or three times a month. You wondered why he suddenly stopped spending his time here, you even asked Wooyoung about the reason, but he just shrugged and said that Yeonjun is busy with his study at university or something like that.

And now you begin to treasure these moments when the boy appears on your front porch. At these times you felt like a little child on Christmas seeing their desired gift under the Christmas tree. You missed him a lot, you missed his soft smile, you missed his loud laugh, you missed his eyes that were full of warmth, you missed your small talks and his occasional jokes, you missed everything.

And now the three of you are sitting in your kitchen and you can't stop staring at the boy who sits in front of you. You want to remember every little thing about him until you see him next time. However, you haven't prepared for what's waiting for you this evening.

You heard the notification ding through the room and Yeonjun picked up his phone to check it, you saw the soft smile adorning his pretty face. "Guys, I would really want to spend more time with you, but I totally forgot about the date with Minso I have like in an hour, so I guess I should go. See you around!" he smiled, his eyes forming crescent moons. Then he bumps his fist with Wooyoung and half hugs you saying his goodbye.

The time went past you while you were sitting frozen. How come you never know he is dating someone? This question was the only thing that rings through your head. You didn't even feel the hot tears on your cheeks until your brother tapped your shoulder with a worried look on his face, you didn't bother to explain anything as you just stormed past him on the second floor and slapped your door shut. That night you cried yourself to sleep with thoughts that you should get over this stupid pretty boy, even if it would be impossible you should do it possible cause you can't live with that burning aches in your heart.

Reblogs and likes are highly appreciated <3 Do not steal/copy/repost thx.

#kflixnet #k-labels #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun x reader #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt timestamps #timestamp #choi yeonjun #txt

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skigothy · 2 years ago

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yayayayay big long thread time, ty for the tag! I love sharing personal info for friends and government to see!

1. Name: online I get called skigo for short. I also get called literally any other word that starts with an s by my irl friends, such as spigot! or stinky!

2. Pronouns/Gender: I do not really care, I don’t prioritize labeling myself! but he/him is fine, and I am also cis I suppose

3. Sexuality: I guess closest to hetero? but again not big on labels, and currently am dating a nb so it’s really whatever

4. Country: united states of americus

5. Top 5 Fandoms: does music count? I spend a lot of time on rateyourmusic and r/indieheads when I was still on reddit. (for anyone actually reading, feel free to send me music recs or your fav playlists or anything like that, I love discovering new music!) along with that, I’d have to say hylics, jojo, binding of isaac, and smiling friends!

6. Most Forbidden Snack: I’ve always wanted to see how much of my cat’s head I can fit in my mouth

7. Would you pet a bug: yes and it would be this guy

8. Weird fact/story about myself: I like to explore construction sites! there’s a neighborhood being built down the street from mine I was exploring the other day when a truck started following me and trying to confront me (they literally drove on the wrong side of a road separated by median to try to get next to me) and I managed to successfully evade them riding on a scooter. can you imagine how humiliating it must be to lose track of someone you’re following who can’t even go like a quarter of the speed you can? amazing experience 10/10 would evade again

9. What does the color blue taste like: if blue takis are anything to base this off of, then suspiciously similar to the color red

10. Most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen: probably the grand teton mountain range, ohhhhh man those were some big rocks

11. Stupidest thing I’ve ever done: I have permanent scars on my fingers because I was using a bush trimmer outside and just. forgot that I was essentially wielding a mini chainsaw and put my hand out to grab something next to it and sliced my fingers! if I were any more careless I may have lost them entirely!

12. Stupidest thing I’ve ever heard someone else say/do: after the 2020 new years, one of my friends told me completely genuinely how crazy it was that we were only 80 years away from the year 3000

13. Hyperfixation Song: literally any song by Everything Everything! I’ve been listening to them a lot recently but if I had to pick one I’d have to say Photoshop Handsome

14. Meaning behind profile picture/username: username is one day I was just thinking about the word skig and how it was funny. I decided to name my future son skigothy.

15. Dream career as a kid: I went through a spy phase as a kid and thought it would be super cool! but I had a plan b of doing computer stuff, which is what I ended up doing!

16. Dream career as an adult: I would absolutely love to work on like a small team and make some silly games! another really cool one would be working on physics research, currently getting a physics minor but I may continue pursuing it once I’m done with my computer science degree next year!

17. Thoughts on cilantro: I have the weird gene. bad soapy. nasty grass.

18. Have I ever been banned from a location: does minecraft count? I was a mischievous one when I was younger (not that I’ve changed) and was banned from many a server

19. Favorite cursed food combination: apparently when I was like 4 I requested a peanut butter and mustard sandwich and my parents. complied? and I like ate it up and absolutely loved it. I was an astounding child

20. Trans rights: I support trans wrongs! trans people should be allowed to commit as many crimes as possible!

apologies if any of you have already been tagged: @shitass-broadsword @xxposerkid98xx @chronicallykyra @imkris @onemoretrite @tunedrockets @charyou-tree @jop0t @gaymeing

“I just came from r/196” ask game

Saw another post. I think I should invite y'all to one of our longstanding traditions. Answer the questions then tag 10 (or more) people. I'll go first.

Name? Frankie

Pronouns and gender? he/they/it, transmasc

Sexuality? Lesbian

Country? USA

Top 5 fandoms? Bungou Stray Dogs, Cosmere, All for the Game, Fundiesnark (not a series but I'm too deep in it to not consider it a fandom), .....the tornado fandom? (they're my special interest)

What is your Most forbidden snack? The preserved bones at the Atlanta Bodies Exhibition. They looked so crunchy...

Would you pet a bug? If it's big enough, it is pettable.

Share a weird fact/story about yourself with the class. I like to drive around rural areas and photograph old, sometimes abandoned locations in the dead of night. I have been literally chased out of towns by foot and by car on two separate occasions. The second time this happened, "See You Again" by Miley Cyrus came up on shuffle and that's the soundtrack my friend and I tore out of town to. Also every "guy" I've dated except for my most recent ex (who has big egg energy) is a lesbian now.

What does the color blue taste like? Creme brulee

What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? The appalachian mountains of Tennessee in the middle of summer. There's kudzu everywhere. On the backroads, there were several old, dilapidated Baptist churches barely hanging to the side of the mountain. I wonder how many of them were still in use.

What is the stupidest thing you've ever done? Short version: my friend's house almost got broken into by this dude who'd been stalking us for months while we were home alone. Instead of calling the cops, we decided to confront him with a bow and arrow (me), a hatchet, and a baseball bat (him). The plan was that if it went badly, we would simply throw his corpse into one of the many lakes in the neighborhood and let the alligators eat his remains (this was Florida). Why? Because we were afraid of having our home-alone privileges revoked. Luckily for us all, the guy fucked off and we never saw him again.

Stupidest thing you've seen/heard someone else do/say? My ex thought that Jackalopes were real. Also, a nurse I was doing rotations with apparently thought that "Witness Protection" was for Jehovah's Witnesses.

Hyperfixation song? Young Enough + Bleach by Charly Bliss

Is there any meaning behind your profile picture and/or username? Profile pic; I'm transmasc and I'm currently obsessed with TriStamp. Username; It was my fake internet name when I was like 13. I won't change it because I want my mutuals to recognize me, and because I do have a viral post associated with this name.

Dream career as a child? Doctor (funnily enough I'm now in nursing school)

Dream career as an adult? Professional Jester. Not a comedian. I just want to be some weird little guy who dresses silly and you can hire me to roast your boss at work parties.

Thoughts on cilantro? Delicious

Have you ever been banned from a location and if so, why? I honestly can't remember? Probably... but in recent memory I've mainly banned people from places.

What is your cursed food combination? Pineapple on a hotdog with grilled onions. It Slaps.

Trans rights? TRANS RIGHTS

Tagging: @rocket-mankoi @mostlymarco @atleast8courics @jazzlike39 @gemsweater72 @limbobilbo @ameliaaltare @redcrane112 @theoneofwhomisblue @twinkenjoyer @theultimatecarp and anyone else who wants to jump on

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pretty-dianxia · 2 years ago

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Hola Amores!!!

This was a year... well... it was, and that is what counts.

I hope that for this 2023, you are always surrounded by love and care, I hope that you live new experiences, see and visit new places, and make new friends. Thank you so much for sharing your love and hyperfixations in this fandom, for your tags, memes, and beautiful art.

Swear to you guys, I wish I could throw a party where all of us can have lots of fun, all of us in cosplay of our chosen characters (the ones in the wwx/zzs/wkx/sqx/jby will have to take one shot at the entry (and if you don't drink well, the beverage of your choice then,)) karaoke with songs that your character would sing, dance competence for the party animals (all of this at a moderate volume since we care for the ones with sensory issues,) PowerPoint presentations for the ones that want to convince us to read your fave work that isn't famous (10 min tops, maximum of 8 slides), fanfic and official work reading while enacting it (we will ban some scenes of course,) discussions/debates of headcanons... so sorry, stopping now.

Anyhow, my best wishes for this new year 💛

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　

And now... some special mentions 🔥🔥🔥

Thank you @ru-star & @tommyspeck for always being here <333 thank you @31duskballs for those amazing fic recs ✨ Thank you @kikiknits for creating such wonderful pieces (I'm still so obsessed with that little worm and the yellow sweater inspired by hualian art 😭💕 you all take a look at this!!!) Thank you @danhoemei for always feeding us with your incredible humour, art, music, poetry fics, tags and sharing amazing works of art (dear friend!!!! Ilysm!!! 💛) @icarus-suraki the best creator of memes in this hellsite (I'm not kidding, as a matter of fact, reblog this for good luck) thank you for sharing!! @darthvaporwave you have been here for ages!!! LOL, thank you for sticking around <33 @oneiro-nautical Thank you for creating and sharing incredible content!! @birbfeeder2artisticboogaloo BIRB!!! DEAR!! You sweetheart!!! so much love to you!! Thank you for creating and always feeding us with great fengqing content!!! @jadevalentine-writes JADE!!!! DEAR!!!! Thank you for your amazing work!!! They bring so much happiness!!! You all!! Go right now and read their fics!! link here!! @white-flower-blooming Alex!!! Sweetheart!!! Hi!!! I hope we can get more of that cute content you create!!! Thank you for bringing so much joy to this fandom (you all, we need to protect this wonderful person right here at all costs!!) @quilleth !!! Another wonderful person that also is into moshang and cr!!! Thank you for reblogging and always leaving such kind tags for ops <333 @saawek Your fem!HC lives in my mind rent-free!!! Thank you for creating beautiful breathtaking art!!! Swear to you dear, your pieces are museum worthy quality!!!!

And many more that I'm not tagging or this is going to be more long, thank you 💛💛💛

Hermanxs hablahispanas!!! Ustedes!!! Lol, estoy haciendo esto para futuras referencias, por supuesto que me acuerdo de sus tags en español @half-eaten-mantou @evangelinedares @moonchild0903 Muchísimo amor y muy buenas vibras (≚ ᄌ ≚ )

#so sorry you all #happy 2023

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fairytaleyaya · 3 years ago

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not enough for you - xu minghao

synopsis: you´ve been in love with your best friend minghao since middle school, but the worst of all: he is the attractive guy of the campus who´d have his way with anyone. After watching him fuck the whole campus for years you drunk confess but it goes terribly wrong…

pairing: fuckboy! best friend! minghao x reader

genre: angst

word count: 2k

warnings: some strong language, mentions of alcohol

song rec: enough for you - olivia rodrigo

a/n: might post a part two but not sure

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y/n´s pov

you were sitting in the balcony of the shared apartment with your friends, probably still drunk as shit from the dinner you guys had. Your pretty thin dress wasn´t helping me with the night wind but you weren´t planning to go inside anytime soon. All you wanted right now was to cry your heart out, even if your tears flooded this balcony you didn´t want to stop. Why would you even fall so hard for him, you always knew how bad this was and how it would drain you and shatter your heart into pieces, pieces so tiny that you couldn´t fix it anymore. But you kept ignoring the signs your brain sent you, instead you let those feelings take over you and of all your senses. Now you were the one who had to deal with this, you had brought this upon yourself.

But the thing was broke you the most wasn´t him not liking you back, you were already aware of that. But the fact that he never noticed you, saw you in any romantic way. You weren´t even one of those girls he wanted to fuck. No you were just his plain best friend nothing more or else. You were questioning yourself all the time am I so uninteresting that he doesn´t even want to fuck me such thoughts were all over your head, they took all the space inside there.

But today he made it very clear again that he didn´t want to be involved with you in any other way than friendship. He is the sole reason why you´re sitting in this cold balcony right now, crying, eyes bloodshot. You slowly recall the event from a couple hours ago:

Everything was going super fun and well, you had dressed up prettily to eat out – more like drink out with your friends. Everyone was having fun, laughing around to the jokes made. But not until hoshi decided to come up with tons of bottles of all sorts of alcohol, making you wonder how he´s even carrying all that. “Okay now time to spice this night up a little! Who´s up to a round of truth or dare? Extreme only, we aren´t cowards here” everyone already started to yell around, agreeing to play this damned stupid game, including you dumbass you thought to yourself thinking of it.

And the game was extreme. An hour later three people were shirtless, someone was giving the one left to him a hickey. Everyone was already wasted by the way they were behaving and agreeing to do these bizarre tasks or giving out those. You already had to reveal your latest hook up with Joshua, what surprised the entire friend group and take your bra off and wear your quite revealing dress braless. In the drunk moment nobody was bothered nor embarrassed by anything, doing a lot of things to regret tomorrow when they woke up to a hangover. Minghao seemed to be enjoying himself, after all he was used to this atmosphere as he was at parties every day, leaving with a different girl each time. You weren´t even surprised at how casually you can say such things about your crush now. It became pretty normal to you, after you could finally admit to yourself how deep you had fallen for this guy.

But then it was minghao´s you didn´t even count how many times it was his turn, but Joshua turned to him and asked “truth or dare minghao” he chose all day dare, you were drunk but you still managed to remember every single turn of his, if only your stupid ass could use these memory skills for maths too. “i´ll go with truth this time, i´m already tired” he said, still relaxed, he seemed as if the 10 shots he had weren´t having the slightest effect on him. “okay then with which one of the people in this room would you like to have something romantically the most?” you had no reason to but your heart dropped at this question. You didn´t even want to admit to yourself how much you wanted or needed him to say your name. you didn´t want to admit to yourself how much needed this validation that he saw you. Minghao but he let out a breathy chuckled and spoke “hmm not to offend you guys, but i´ll have to say nobody” seokmin gasped acting extremely offended by his words “oh my goodness you just broke our heart into two pieces” more than two seokmin… your heart was broken into way more than only two pieces. It felt like your world just collided and you were stuck under it, not being able to escape. He never even saw you, he never acknowledged you in a romantic way. The minghao who´d fuck anything breathing didn´t even look in your direction. You couldn´t even describe the way you were feeling, you wanted to burst into tears but you weren´t going to do that in front of everyone. Nobody was allowed to know the heartbreak you felt so you had to perfectly mask up your sorrow and look as happy as possible.

The masking up thing failed massively too; you sat in your place gulping drink after drink quietly the rest of the night. Your tears were threatening all the time, you felt horrible but you didn´t want to cry in front of everyone, you were too tired to make up an excuse why. This whole night was amazing you had so much fun after an exhausting exam season, but one question ruined it. It didn´t even take minghao 10 seconds to say this but you were thinking about it for 1 hour now. How 10 seconds can ruin an entire night is unbelievable. During the car ride Vernon was driving because he had only one shot, with wonwoo on the passenger seat and you were sitting with minghao in the backseat, the others in the other car behind. You tried to sit as far as possible from him and let a tear accidentally fall. He must have noticed your light sniff because you felt his hand on your shoulder “are you okay? You were so quiet y/n” he literally asks if you´re doing fine. All you wanted to say was that you were so miserable because of him but you could hold yourself back, telling him you were tired.

So that’s how you ended up on this balcony… a very sad story and a miserable night for you. But even after crying so much you didn´t feel yourself sober up at all, you still felt drunk. Maybe it was the pain, but you had no clue. You were scared back into reality by the balcony door abruptly opening. It was the person you wanted here the least, minghao. “y/n? I wanted to check up on you asking if you´re okay” after the answer you gave, you realised how drunk you still were “what are you gonna do if I say i´m not okay?” he was taken aback by your answer but played it cool “I mean I just wanted to ask what the problem is” you chuckled at his ridiculous statement “You! You are the damn problem!” you raised your voice at him from your seat.

You expected him to react but this was not the way you thought, not at all. Because all he did was to tilt his head to his left and cross his arms. “me?” now he stepped closer to your chair with a stupid smirk on his handsome face, arms still crossed at his chest. You didn´t want to look intimidated by him so you tried to sound convincing “yes, you” his next movement made you inhale deeply trying to collect your jaw from the floor, his hands got a grip on each side of your chairs slowly kneeling in front of you sitting on the chair. “is it a problem only I can solve for you?” now his left hand left the side of the chair found its way on your exposed thighs, slowly caressing it. You forgot how to breathe at this point, it was unbelievable how he had this much control over you with just one movement. He leaned his face close to yours and whispered to you “you could´ve just told me instead of making such a scene” before you even could process anything his lips were on yours, and god he was a heavenly kisser. He always had you longing for more and more. It was addictive how good he could kiss. You started to understand the girls better who swooned over him. You actually never wanted for things to come this far but now that you had him kneeling in front of your chair, left hand caressing your thigh, lips on yours the right hand tightly griping on the chair to the point his knuckles turned white, you couldn´t help but wanting him to continue what the hell he was doing to you. And your body was ahead of my brain, pulling him closer by his shirts, already playing with the buttons of his shirt, desperately wanting it off. But your efforts of quickening the pace were interrupted by minghao slowly pulling his lips away from yours leaving you in slight disappointment. He just laughed lightly “don´t pout. I just would like to take this to my bedroom unless you want to put on a show for the whole neighbourhood” your cheeks flushed thinking that you were really about to undress him in your balcony.

He took you by your hand, leading you towards his room. But you started to overthink again, sleeping with him wasn´t going to help you at all and would only make it worse. You´d just fall for him more and be disappointed even more in the morning when you wake up and realise it´s all over. You still let him lead you into his room, again taking you by surprise when he closed the door and you were pinned against it. “Now you can undress me all you want” he chuckled as his lips found their way on your neck his time. You didn’t expect it but his kisses were light not as rough as you had imagined them to be and he was allowing himself to take his time moving slowly over your collarbone, painting hickeys slowly on them.

You don´t know what came over you that moment but you blurted out a sudden confession “minghao I love you!” you noticed how his body stiffened and his lips stopped moving resting on your collarbones. You could swear you felt his hands on your waist shaking. He slowly pulled away from you face you “y/n what do you mean? I mean you´re kidding, right?” he asked cautiously. “No i´m not, i´m dead serious right now” he stood there awkwardly trying to process everything “But you know- i´m not-“ he tried to helplessly explain or more likely reject you. “I know you don´t get involved with women any other than sexually. I was aware of that you don´t have to explain yourself to me. Uhm.. I´ll get going now” you opened the door, your back facing minghao. All you wanted was for him to hold you back and prevent you from leaving. Like in those dramas but real life looked much different, the guy doesn´t run after the girl at the end, if she decides to leave, she just leaves without a word. just like you right now, leaving the room and minghao doing nothing but standing there, not the slightest intention of holding you back. You closed the door and still no reaction from him, that’s when you lost hope...

thank you for reading! ♡

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astoryisaloveaffair · 3 years ago

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Fix You - Chapter 9: Pour Some Sugar on Me

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader (Physical Description neutral. The moodboard is just a moodbaord)

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

Spotify Playlist

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Chapter Summary: Frankie and you spend a lazy day at together

Word Count: 7200

Rating: E, 18+

Chapter Warnings: Legal age gap (10+ years), cussing, smut, fingering, oral (f rec), P in V, sex with food, cumplay, SLIGHT innocence kink if you don’t blink, TOOTHrotting fluff.

A/N: Hiiiiii! Thank you guys for being so patient! You know that post that’s like “Fic writers be out here having XYZ traumatic things happen to them then be like ‘anyways here’s the new chapter’?” That’s literally me. It took some time for me to get back in the groove, and I was going to head right into another heavy chapter but I couldn’t get into the vibe. I shifted instead into just doing some light fluff, and I think it actually works better this way. I want to reassure you that this fic will remain a reader insert and vague in Flower’s physical description. Any pics I use in a moodboard is just a pic. Wildflower is YOU. I hope you enjoy!

Suggested Songs: "Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard, “This Year’s Love” by David Grey, “Heavenly” by Cigarettes After Sex, “You Got It” by Roy Orbison, “Lucky Man” by The Verve, “Go to Town” by Doja Cat

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Waking up in his arms was your new favorite thing.

You crack your eyes open slowly, relieved it’s still dark out, the room barely lit so only the shadows and silhouettes of his sparse bedroom furniture are visible. Good. You’re still tired, you never were a successful early riser. You close your eyes again and inhale deeply, the scent of him surrounding you like a weighted blanket or the heavy arm slung loosely about your waist. His scent is always soothing, filling you with an instant wave of serotonin, of safety and comfort, but there’s just something else about his sleeping smell. Muskier but more mellow, a warm envelope of pheromones your body gravitates to.

Your nose is smooshed against his chest slightly, your face resting on his other flung out forearm. Trailing your fingers slightly across his little love handle, you lightly nuzzle your face into the soft sparse chest hair between his pecs, making sure not to move too much and wake him. It’s rare he isn’t the one to wake first, even if he goes right back to sleep after.

Your thoughts drift to how easy this is, how effortless being with him is. How quickly his embrace has become your favorite source of stability and reassurance, and you try to think if anyone else had made you feel like this. It’s like every person before him was a paltry mockery of what cuddling felt like. What love felt like. Because that’s what it feels like, he pours his love into his embrace and you desperately want to absorb as much of it as you can.

You wish you could say it. You want to say it. But as safe as you feel in his arms, as much as you think you can feel his care, or love, or whatever in his body, past experience is a hard trigger response to get over. If he doesn’t feel the same, or not yet, or if he does and everything falls apart, you know now you’re in too deep that it would absolutely break you. And that is terrifying. You’d tried so hard to not fall, tried so hard to keep some of those walls you built up around the deepest parts of your heart. You chide yourself for your ridiculous hopeless romanticism, how quickly you allowed him to burrow into your heart and break those walls down.

His arms suddenly enclose more around you, pulling you tighter into the warmth of his body as a deep rumbling hum vibrates through his chest against your cheek. You allow him to carry you away from the negative thoughts threatening to ruin this moment. He shifts slightly, adjusting his head on the pillow with a deep inhale.

He hums again louder as he begins to rouse, bending his neck to bury his face in your hair, taking in your “coconut hair smell” he told you he is obsessed with.

“Baby.” He whispers. “You awake?”

You don’t know why but you don’t respond, keeping your breath even to try to keep him from knowing you’re awake. Why? It’s not like it’s a secret you woke first, a rule broken. Maybe you want to just allow him the ability to go right back to sleep if he wants. Maybe you want to see what he does when he thinks you’re asleep. You try to keep yourself from smiling excitedly as you remember how he really enjoys waking you up.

But it takes a turn you don’t expect at all.

His arm slowly moves to the back of your head, hand gently gathering your mess of hair and smoothing it oh so lightly up and over you the crown of your head to the base of your neck, pressing soft kisses to your head as he cups your neck to him.

“Honey.” He turns his cheek to rest it atop your head when you remain silent. It’s quiet for so long you think he must have fallen back asleep until he speaks again, his voice so wispy and low you can barely hear him.

“I…” He trails off, lifting his hand to once again run it over the crown of your head and down one more time, thumb barely moving back and forth in the whisper of a caress against the side of it.

“You’re everything to me.” He sighs. It’s so hard to hear you question whether you’re hearing him correctly, but it feels like your insides get in a car accident, your heart slamming to a halt in a sudden jolt of adrenaline, and you struggle not to breathe harder, or move, or swallow, or show any sign that his words are making your heart bounce around in your chest like a ping pong ball.

“Do you know?” He whispers again. And again, you keep silent, internally begging him to continue. “I wish I could tell you.”

Silence again. Then- “Stay. Don’t ever leave. Even if I fuck up.”

Your heart quivers at his words, and it takes everything in you not to fling your arms around his neck and kiss him, reassure him, tell him you’ll never leave, that you are so incredibly and undeniably in love with him. But you don’t. You don’t, because he doesn’t think you hear him. He confided something into the silence and trust of the darkness and you don’t want to violate that, don’t want to steamroll over him with interpretations of what you think he must mean of what you think you heard.

He exhales softly and squeezes you into him, nuzzling into your scalp as he fades back into sleep, and eventually your heart stops pounding and you do too.

When Frankie stirs again, the warm late June sun is streaming in ribbons through his shades. He yawns and moves to stretch, realizing immediately that stretching is impossible because the two of you are completely wrapped around each other. He smiles sleepily and strokes your back through one of his ratty tees trying to figure out the best way to extricate himself from your spider monkey grip. One of your legs is thrust in between his as you lie facing each other, your head tucked in against his sternum and one of your arms flung and dangling over his shoulder.

Okay, maybe he didn’t want to get up. He huffs out a light chuckle as he takes in as much of your adorable little sleeping face as he can. He can feel your mouth is slightly open today, a tiny little wet patch marking the skin of his chest like you’d drooled a little bit. It surprisingly isn’t gross in the slightest to him and he revels in the fact that you feel so comfortable with him that you sleep that deeply in his arms.

He can’t help but think about the complete difference between you and Lex. He would never admit it to anyone, but he was a cuddler to the point of being touch-starved, always wanting to touch and be touched, wrapped around his partner, clinging to them all through the night. It had always bothered Lex. She needed her space to sleep and would complain about being too hot, being uncomfortable, his breath on her back annoying her, or feeling too cramped. He got used to it, like he was back in the military and sleeping alone in a tiny cot bed. But now, he basks in the pleasure of just being able to hold. To entangle himself in another person. To give everything he wants to give and have it accepted in full.

He rubs your back a little harder, feeling you stir against his chest, and he pulls you in closer, savoring just experiencing waking up with you. He remembers the words he confessed last night as you slept, wishing he could ask you to stay every night or just fucking move in already, but the two of you hadn’t even told Gabriela you were dating yet. It’s too soon.

“Morning.” You croak out. He smiles at the sound of your raspy morning “dragon voice” and pulls back to gaze adoringly at your face.

“Morning. Sleep ok?”

“Mmmmmmm always sleep good with you, Cat. So comfy.” You slide your hand down to his bare waist and squeeze his side gently, nudging him back closer to you.

“Being chubby comes in handy sometimes.” He sniggers, and you abruptly pull out of his arms and sit up and push his back flat to the mattress, glaring with a furrowed brow.

“What?!”

“I...just said my fat came in handy-”

“Excuse me, you are NOT chubby. What are you talking about?”

He stares at you incredulously for a beat before reaching down to his tummy and squeezing the roll there.

“Are you kidding? Look at all this.”

You huff and slap his hands away and he laughs as he pretends you wounded him.

“I will have you know that this teeny little tummy is one of my most favorite things about your body, and I would appreciate you not being so mean to it.” You snip before promptly dropping your head to his belly with a soft plop.

He’s quiet for a few moments. “Really?”

You turn your head towards him, your body following as you roll to your side to look up at him, your eyebrows arching towards your hairline. “Yea. I’m sure I’ve told you this before.”

“Guess I’m not used to it.” He smiles sheepishly and cups your cheek in his palm. “Thanks baby. Sometimes it’s hard not to compare when I’m standing next to Will or Benny.”

You snort. “Cuddling with Will must feel like cuddling a plank of driftwood. Hard as a rock. Good thing he’s so cute.”

“Oh, he’s cute is he? Okay.” Frankie teases, sitting up halfway and diving towards you to tickle to your waist. You shriek in glee and take advantage of his exposed weak spot, pressing your face to his tummy to lathe your tongue across the sensitive skin under his belly button. He jerks, switching to try and pull you off him but your arm is wrapped around his thighs and your grip is locked in so you continue to lathe and lick all over the expanse of his stomach, relishing in the high pitched gasps and giggles he lets out from the assault.

Eventually you slow, relaxing your arms around his thigh as he settles until you’re just kissing him. Little pecks and kisses from his belly button down his little happy trail and across the seam of his boxer briefs as he rumbles in content.

“Alright..” He mumbles in time, shifting upwards again. “Lemme up.”

“Noooooo!” You whine, wrapping your arms and legs back around him to keep him from getting up.

“Was gonna make coffee.” He whines back. “Maybe some waffles. Hungry?”

You release him immediately. “Ooooooo yes please!”

He laughs and gets up, pulling on those damn grey sweatpants again before turning to kiss you on the forehead. You smack his butt lightly as he walks away. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

After he leaves the room, you stretch your limbs out across his bed, turning to bury your face in his pillow to smell him some more before you get up.

Eventually you do get up, wash your face, brush your teeth, and head down the hall to the kitchen. Frankie’s playing music from the speakers you helped him set up and you can hear him singing offkey along with it. You grin broadly when you recognize the tune, “You Got It” by Roy Orbison.

Not wanting to disturb him, you quietly tiptoe towards the kitchen and poke your head around the wall to see him shuffling around the kitchen while setting up the espresso maker for your coffees. You can’t help but giggle softly and melt just a little more at how happy he seems moving to the beat of the song.

“One look from you I drift away,

I pray that you are here to stay.

Anything you want, you got it,

Anything you need, you got it,

Anything at all, you got it, BABYYYYYY!”

He’s not even preparing anything at this point as he sings, his husky voice is in no way comparable to how beautiful Roy Orbison’s was, but you find that you love it just as much. It’s so him. Soft. Rough. Slightly unsure, but not one lyrical mistake. Perfect in his own way.

He turns suddenly, catching you watching him and he falters a little, pink tinging his cheeks and the tips of his ears sticking out from his curls. You hate seeing the energy fall, so you continue it and sing the next verse to him, sidling up to him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Every time I hold you I begin to understand,

Everything about you tells me I'm your man,

I live my life,

To be with you,

No one can do,

The things you dooooooo!”

He laughs as you sing “I’m your man,” eyes crinkling the way you love and shrinking into those fox-like little half moons as he takes your hand and swings you around him in the kitchen, starting an impromptu concert singing the song with each other. His eyebrows raise as you sing the high notes in the bridge with ease, the two of you eventually breaking apart as the song continues while you goofily dance around his kitchen together, not paying any attention to where you were landing in relation to each other. One extra boisterous step to the side and you knock right into him, but he doesn’t mind and pulls you back in his arms, his arm about your waist as the momentum keeps you circling each other for a second.

I'm glad to give my love to you,

I know you feel the way I do,

When you think back on this morning later you know something changed then. The way he looked at you as the moment faded, as you slowed to a halt and the song ended and swelled to a new one with a higher tempo.

His other hand lands on the other side of your waist and he aligns you with his own, looking at you with a expression you haven’t seen from him before, and it feels like his eyes alone, those gentle warm brown eyes, bore into you and kick down whatever other walls and reservations you have protecting your damaged heart. You love him. You love him, more than anything, more than you’ve ever loved anyone, and you never want your life to change from this.

One of your hands moves from his waist to his sternum, threading your fingertips lightly through his chest hair. “I thought you said you were a bad dancer.”

He licks his lips and smirks. “Maybe it’s just you.”

You giggle, standing on your tiptoes to anoint the three little kisses to the moles on his neck before he moves away, patting your butt on his way back to the espresso machine. As it brews, he pulls some waffle ingredients out of the pantry and fridge, dumping them into two bowls before combining them, pouring some maple syrup into a small creamer pitcher and putting that in the microwave to heat. You hop up on the island counter and observe, the peaceful confidence that comes over him in the kitchen is something you’ll never get tired of watching.

He should have told you then, and he chides himself for letting the moment pass when he freezes up again. It would have been perfect. I love you. I love you so much. I thought I’d never have this again and it’s so much better than before. I want you to stay. Stay with me.

Fuck. He busies himself preparing the waffle mix and turns to the island to pull the waffle maker out of the cabinet but he screeches to a halt when he sees you.

You’d taken to wearing some of his more worn out tee shirts he never gets rid of when you sleep over. Band tees, all stretched out and faded, some with some small holes in them and perfectly softened and oversized to drape over your body and flounce out right underneath your butt. It’s a sight he never gets tired of seeing, but today you have chosen not to pull on bottoms due to the extreme heat, and your underwear is on full display as you sit on the counter scrolling through your phone. Your legs are spread slightly, swinging back and forth, your breasts perky and tantalizing under his old ratty Prince tee as you casually dip your finger into the maple syrup he placed there after removing it from the microwave and sucking it off your finger.

And fuck, but today your panties are baby fucking pink, with a white lacy trim and a white fucking bow at the top like it’s a present, wrapped up perfectly just for him. And before he can turn away and focus, you swipe your finger in the syrup again, meeting his gaze innocently as you bring it to your lips and suck it clean.

“What are you doing?” He says, softly but sternly.

You furrow your brow. “I’m having some maple syrup while we wait?”

“You’re just...going to stick your finger in the entire cup?”

You tilt your head and squint at him, a teasing smirk on your lips as you slowly push two of your fingers back into the pitcher, pull up a huge glob of syrup and push it towards your mouth. The syrup is warm and oozes farther out than the surface of your fingers can hold and it drips as it dots across your thighs, but you don’t break eye contact once.

“Yes. You want some?”

His eyes darken as he stalks the few steps towards you, commanding his speakers to be silent, his eyes dropping to your adorable, girly, sexy pink fucking panties. The commanding tone of his voice makes you shiver.

“Yea.”

You move to swipe your finger through the pitcher once more, but he grabs your wrist and shakes his head slowly. “No. I don’t want that syrup.”

“What-”

He drops your wrist, encircling both your swinging ankles in his grip and gently jerks you forward so your ass is almost hanging off the edge of the counter, quickly moving to slot himself between your thighs before you can close them.

“Oh.”

It’s all you can say before he pulls a stool over to sit on and pushes you to lay back on your forearms, your legs splaying out more as you fall back with a gasp.

He groans as you open for him, the present he can finally unwrap. He trails his hands up your calves to the sides of your thighs, leaning down to lick and suck up the droplets of syrup that dripped there. He’s making as much noise doing it as possible, the sound echoing around the silent kitchen and you can’t help but whimper at how blatantly obscene it sounds.

When your thighs are sufficiently clean, he scoots closer and pushes them apart further, leaning down to drag his hooked nose the entire length of your panty covered pussy. He pulls away but returns immediately, nuzzling into the fabric and placing sloppy, wet, open mouthed kisses until the cloth is damp with both his saliva and your arousal and you’re whining under him. Enough pressure to tease but not enough to provide relief.

“Frankie -”

He lifts his head and meets your gaze. “What.”

“Please.”

“Please what.” He replies, leaning back on the stool and crossing his arms. “You need to tell me what you need. I want to hear it.”

Your cheeks burn but you’re too far gone to care about begging. “Eat me out...please?”

“I love hearing you beg…” He says, yanking the side of your panties aside and plunges his face right into your folds. You gasp sharply as he meets you and he pulls harder, accidentally tearing the fabric halfway across the front, and he laps up your juices like the maple syrup you’d been eating earlier.

Swirling his tongue at your entrance, he moans, the vibration rocking through you and heightening the sensation drastically and you fall back on one forearm, cupping the back of his head with your other hand.

“Shit...Frankie…”

His pouty lips are swollen from friction and they kiss and suck at you languidly, taking his time to build pressure and work you up without even needing to enter you at all. He moves up and suckles your clit into his mouth, twirling his tongue around the bud and the jolt of pleasure is so strong you lose your balance on your forearm and smack back onto the countertop, slightly banging your head.

“Ow.”

“Oh shit! You okay?” He pops up from beneath you, demeanor completely shifted in his concern.

You laugh. “Yea, I’m good. You can carry on.”

He chuckles back, leaning up and over you to plant a quick kiss to your lips, coating your lips with your own arousal before resuming his original position on the stool. But he doesn’t dive right back in, he hovers for a moment in contemplation until you whine and buck your hips in impatience.

“Baby, please!”

“I’ve changed my mind.” He declares, and you panic immediately at the thought that he is going to abandon you, but instead he grips each end of the torn fabric of your panties and tears them the rest of the way until they fall clean off you. He hums, bringing his hand to his jaw and tracing his jawline.

“I think I do want some maple syrup.”

And then, you’re mind goes fucking blank because he’s pouring the warm syrup from the pitcher directly onto your pussy, the weight, warmth, and drag of it as it runs down you pulling a broken moan from you lips as you collapse back down again. And just before the droplets can reach your other hole, he’s there, lapping with the entire flat of his tongue up your cunt and scooping the syrup now mingled with your juices into his mouth to enjoy.

“Mmmmm. Delicious.” He growls, and goes back for more, licking and sucking the syrup off every inch of you. When he slips a finger into you and returns his mouth to your clit, you feel so completely cracked out from the burning pleasure you think you could cry, but he keeps going slow and steady, keeping you from the pressure you need to cum.

“Cat…” You sob out, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes. “Baby, I need to cum!”

“Tell me what you need to cum.” His finger is still pushing in and out of you slowly.

“I - mmmmm - I need more, I need you to - oh - fuck me, please, fuck me with your fingers.”

“Yea?” He’s panting himself, the sight of you completely fucking wrecked out on his countertop pumping adrenaline through his veins, and he slides a second finger into you, increasing the speed of his thrusts until his knuckles are all but slapping against your pussy with each thrust. He leans down and sucks your clit back into his mouth and then forces a third finger in, grinding his lips against your clit and curling his fingers in and against your walls until you break, curling over him with a shriek and a sob as you cum in his mouth. You can feel him moaning into you as you gush into his mouth before all thought evaporates in a buzzy haze of euphoria.

You can’t move. Your upper body has all but collapsed onto his head and you can barely feel him still kissing you. You moan feebly as he extricates himself, pulling you up and crushing you to his chest.

Your breath is heaving in pants against his chest and he just stands and holds you as you catch your breath and recover, as your mind unfogs and the buzzing of your body rescinds, your release dripping onto the counter.

“Jesus fucking christ Frankie.”

He chucks you under your chin to look up at him. “Too much?”

You shake your head. “No. Never. That was - wow. You’re like the king of eating pussy.”

His sudden burst of laughter surprises you and you jerk up, dissolving into giggles yourself at the sight of him.

“What?! You are!”

“Believe it or not, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”

“Really?” You raise your eyebrows, the hands around his waist moving to his front to cup the large bulge. “I’m a lucky girl then.”

You barely have time to prepare for him as he crashes his lips to yours, tilting his head and licking into your mouth, his hands sliding to your ass and heaving you up into his arms without breaking contact with you. You sigh into his mouth, wrapping your legs around him and he carries you to the couch, ripping his tee off you and plopping you down with little ceremony, shucking off his sweatpants and boxer briefs to climb over you.

“Then I’m an even luckier guy.” He says as he lifts your hips, then grabs himself and pumps up and down a few times before sliding into you completely in one thrust. “So - fuck - so fucking lucky.”

He lifts one of your legs and sets it atop the couch, pushing the other to the side and down to the floor as he sets a slow but deep pace. You’re so boneless all you can do is enjoy the ride, whimpering and moaning sporadically as he finds his own pleasure, his eyes raking up and down your body from your bouncing tits to where he’s entering you, his pupils black and blown out. He moves a hand to cup around one of them, tweaking the nipple as it jiggles in his palm.

“Comin’ out here, sitting on my fucking counter with your little fucking pink bow panties, looking all sweet and innocent and...FUCK. Is this what you wanted baby?” You can only cry out in reply as he continues to fuck into you slow and deep. “My. Naughty. Girl.” He grunts, punctuating each word with a particularly deep thrust. He’s noisy today, and you whimper and clench around him, reveling in the absolute filth, the beautiful gasps and moans and heaving pants that escape his gaping mouth.

“Baby.” He whines, and the sound is so fucking sexy you clench again, his eyes rolling back in his head at the sensation as his thrusts begin to move faster. His grip on your waist will surely leave marks, but the thought of that only makes your body burn more.

He shifts and adjusts his angle, grinding his pubic mound against yours just enough to cage your right on the precipice of cumming, but every time you’re almost there he stops, returning to his original pace. He does this three more times as you wriggle against him, searching desperately for the friction you need to cum, but it’s like he knows your body so well he is still able to edge you, backing off at the right time.

“Cat god dammit!” You complain, tears watering up at the corner of your eyes from the pleasure whiplash.

“You - unghh - you know what I need. Words.”

You already knew that’s what he needed, he always wanted you to beg and talk to him, coaxing the dirty words out of you in the throes of your pleasure because he knew it wasn’t something you’d done a lot before, and the thought of that drove him crazy. Only he could get you talking like this. Only he could make you feel like this while he’s inside you.

“Fr- Francisco...please let me cum…”

“Fuck, yes.” He growls at you using his full name, winding his hand off your breast to press against your clit, increasing speed and pressure while he grinds into you again. But what really does it is the way he looks. His eyes squeezed shut in concentration so he doesn’t cum before you can, that beautiful chin tilted upwards, the tendons and chords of his neck muscles on display. The sweat gathering in the hair on his chest. His other hand holding you open, pressing your calf down into the top cushions of the couch, forearms flexing and straining with effort. That perfect abdomen and belly puffing and receding as he panted through his pouty gaping lips. And out of those lips he releases a guttural groan, the sound so deep and feral you shatter, all the tingling in your body focusing in at one point and rushing out all at once.

The sight of you cumming on his cock, your back arching off the couch and your leg trembling under his grasp is breathtaking, one of the most beautiful things Frankie thinks he’s ever seen, and he slows down as you tighten around him to ward off his own orgasm.

As you settle he pulls himself almost completely out of you, staring at your juices covering him liberally. “Jesus, fuck baby, fucking soaked my cock.” He growls before pushing back in, transfixed at the way you open and spread for him, repeating the motion over and over.

You hum, still reveling in the post bliss wave of your climax. You reach out to him, placing a hand on each of his hips and trailing them upwards and settling them on his pecs, pinching his nipples lightly. He gasps sharply in response and pulls your hips closer into him, leaning down over you with his arms framing your head, his pace speeding up as he chases his orgasm. The room fills with the sound of sweaty skin slapping on sweaty skin, your whimpers, his pants and grunts as he gets closer and closer.

You can feel him tensing, you know he’s close so you wrap your arms around his back, pressing the crescents of your nails into his back and dragging them down. He hisses and stutters, pulling back abruptly.

“Baby. Can I - can I cum on your - your tits? So fucking perfect…”

“Yes.” You gasp. “I want you to. Cum on me baby.”

“Push ‘em, push em’ together.” You do as he asks and he groans one last time before he pulls out, shuffles up your torso, strokes himself three times and cums, spurting warm droplets all over your breasts, his head flung back and covered in sweat. His chest is heaving, tummy flexing and he wilts over you, almost sitting on your stomach but unloading most of the burden on the couch cushions he leans against. His cock is still somewhat hard, and he focuses his gaze on his work, pushing his hips minutely forward and back through the valley between your tits, rubbing you with his softening length and smearing his juices around.

Your cheeks burn under his eye contact but you don’t look away. You pull your arms free and swipe your finger in the puddle of his cum and bring it to your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip and sucking it into your mouth.

“Fuck me, I am a lucky man.” He finally flops backwards onto the unoccupied side of the couch, your limbs in between each other as you regain your composure.

“Well now I’m definitely hungry.”

Frankie bursts into laughter, even more as he tries to drunkenly pull himself back to a seated position. When he finally makes it he places a kiss on your knee and stands, heading naked and glorious to the kitchen to grab a towel to clean you up.

“Frankie. Did we close the curtains?”

“Nope!” He replies as he moves back to you and takes a seat on the edge of the couch next to you, gently wiping you clean. “If anyone’s looking they got the whole view.”

You laugh together as you get re-dressed, finally making it back to the kitchen to enjoy that breakfast of espresso and handmade waffles.

The day ends up being beautiful, and you and Frankie decide to take the opportunity to take a walk and enjoy the sunshine. He finally takes you down to the lake at the back of the house, and you spend some time walking up and down the trail admiring the view before returning to the dock near his house and sitting down together.

Frankie sits cross-legged and you’re leaning back into his arms, his fingers stroking and playing with pieces of your hair as you bask in the vitamin D and the beautiful view.

“It’s so pretty here. Does anyone ever swim in here?”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t. There’s gators in there.”

“What? No there isn’t, this far North?”

“Yep. It’s why I installed such a high fence around the backyard.”

“Shit. Are we safe here?” You’ve never seen an alligator except in the zoo, and you sit up and look around the lake shore in concern.

“Yea you’re fine. I just wouldn’t get in the water. That’s their home. It’s different in there.” He pulls you back against him, and you quiet for a time enjoying the sounds of the water birds and swamp trees rustling in the breeze.

“They’re cool though.” He says. “Like dinosaurs. I kind of like them. They’ve been on this Earth forever and have barely changed at all. The perfect predator.”

“Hmmmm so you were a dinosaur kid then?”

He smiles down at you, squinting in the sunlight. You’d forgotten your sunglasses for your walk and he’d given you his aviators. The frames were too big for you, and it made you look absolutely adorable to him. “I was an ‘everything’ kid. Anything we could afford. You?”

“I was definitely a dinosaur kid. Much to the chagrin of my mother. Another grievance to add to the gigantic list she has against me.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’s great. I love him, best guy I know, other than you I mean.”

“Awwww thanks babe.” He leans over you and plops a messy upside down kiss to your lips. “They must miss you with you down here.”

“I guess.”

“You don’t know?”

“I’m sure they do, but we never really talk about it. We just don’t talk to each other much. It’s nothing dramatic. We’ve just never been a family to call each other a lot. Sometimes I go a month without talking to them.”

Frankie whistles. “My mama would kill me if I went that long without calling her.”

“Must have been tough for her when you were in the military.”

He nods, the conversation dying down as it usually does when his deployments were brought up, but you never mind, and he resumes playing with your hair.

He tries to distract himself in each strand, the way all the colors come together and glint in the sunlight so he doesn’t have to think about your parents, how they must miss you, how they must want you to come home, what happens when you’re done with school. Would you go home? You parents, your friends, they’re all there, and it seems completely out of reason that you would choose to stay here. His heart clenches in his chest at the thought of you leaving, but he pushes those thoughts aside. You don’t graduate for a year and a half, and the time to worry about this is not right now. He re-focuses his attention back on the water, the sun, you, and the life that you have in this moment.

The rest of the day is spent doing nothing at all, but it always holds true that these are often the kinds of days you remember the most, and Frankie had a way of making anything enjoyable, even just by existing on the couch next to you.

After walking back up to the house the two of you lounged in the hammock together watching Tiktok videos, you had recently introduced Frankie to the app and he enjoyed watching the funny ones together with you and would often request it. Eventually you moved back inside, getting cozy together on the couch and binge-watching the back end of season four of Game of Thrones, pausing only to order some takeout.

But now you were in the bedroom, sequestering yourself after telling Frankie you could not watch the penultimate episode with him. He was confused, but left you alone about it and you took the time to run through your Duolingo lesson for the day.

You had decided to start learning Spanish, thinking it would be helpful to be able to talk to Gabriela and Frankie that way. It wasn’t a secret, but you hadn't told Frankie yet so it could possibly be a little surprise. But you didn’t have a lot of money. Frankie paid you well, but it was still a part-time job that didn’t justify buying a two hundred dollar Rosetta Stone program. You’d settled on the free Duolingo, but you were finding that it wasn’t really good for much beyond random conversational phrases.

You heave a sigh as you finish your lesson, tossing your phone on the comforter in frustration. Maybe I should get a workbook, you think. Your mind shifts, focusing on the din of the tv coming from the other room. Muffled yelling. Muffled crowd sounds. Almost time then.

Your heart rate is speeding up as if you were actually watching it and you can’t wait to see what he thinks once he’s done. You try to distract yourself by thinking about the upcoming holiday, what fun things you could do to spend July Fourth. You wonder if the guys have any traditions or things they like to do. Maybe you would try to set something up.

You’re so lost in your thoughts you don’t even realize he has finished the episode, and you startle when he bangs open the door in an absolute rage.

“What. The. Fuck.”

You raise your eyebrows. “All done then?”

He’s pacing back and forth in front of the bed almost frothing at the mouth, and it takes everything in you to not laugh at his passionate reaction. “Yes I’m fucking done, and WHAT THE FUCK!”

“Uh oh. Didn’t like it?”

He pauses, turning towards where you’re perched on the bed, his brow relaxing slightly into an expression of angry pensiveness rather than outright rage. “I liked it but that was not how I expected it to go and now I’m angry because it’s just so fucking basic! He had him! He had him right there! And then he has to go off on his fucking monologue and dies?! What the FUCK! I’m so fucking mad at him!”

“They really make you think for a moment it’ll work out, huh?”

He begins pacing again. “It’s probably the most basic thing any soldier is taught, keep your emotions out of it! Stay focused! You can’t - you can’t think about your revenge, or your reasons, or people you care about, or who you’re shooting, you just gotta turn that shit off and fucking EXECUTE. KILL THEM! Get the job done! You need to focus on the mission and your surroundings and getting rid of anything in your way in the most expedient way possible with the least amount of damage to your own. I want to punch him in the face! Idiot!”

He’s clearly worked himself up into a ramble at this point, he has never gotten so close to talking about what exactly he had to do in Special Forces to you before, always dancing around the topic whenever he discusses his deployments and you don’t want to upset him or cut him off, so you wait patiently and quietly.

He heaves a large sigh and stops again in front of you, biting his lip as he realizes he may have said too much, been too callous.

“See, this is why I can’t watch it. First of all, it's disgusting. Second of all, I love him, so it’s hard to watch him lose and die. Third of all, exactly like you said. This is not the time to monologue! You have him on his back! Finish the job!

His tension relaxes slightly as he sees he didn’t make you uncomfortable. “Exactly. Now what’s going to happen to Tyrion?”

You hum and shrug nonchalantly, shuffling forward to the foot of the bed and swinging your legs on either side of his legs, framing his body within your thighs. “Who knows…” You tease as you wrap your arms around his low waist, nosing up his tee shirt enough to press little kisses to his stomach.

“You do.” He chuckles.

“No spoilers.” You chide before nuzzling into the soft puff of his tummy, the thin hairs of his happy trail tickling the tip of your nose, your lips. You kiss him open-mouthed over that little path, leaving a light trail of saliva to coat the hairs flat before giving him soft pecks again. Next to his belly button, above it, to the other side and back down, before finally resting the side of your face against him.

He softens under you, and when you look up at him he bends down to kiss you on the lips, suckling your bottom lip lightly before tilting his head and deepening the kiss. But before you can pull him in closer, he pulls away, moving to change into his pajamas, and you do the same.

Once you're nestled in his strong arms, he turns out the light and you ask, “Do you have any plans for July Fourth?”

He strokes the skin of your shoulder. “Gabriela’s spending July Fourth with Lex. The guys and I usually get together and have some beers and a barbecue a few days before, but we don’t do anything on the actual day.”

“Oh.”

“But...you should come hang with us when we do, and if you want to come over here on the Fourth I'm happy to have you.”

You’re glad Frankie has already turned the lights off so he can’t see your face twist in confusion. Why wouldn’t they celebrate on the actual day? After several minutes trying to figure it out, you chalk it up to the fact that the Fourth is on a Sunday this year and they probably don’t want to party the day before a work day. But it’s no big loss to you, the Fourth was a holiday you didn’t have much of an opinion on, and you were excited to see everyone no matter the day.

“I can hear your mind spinning around.” Frankie mumbles.

“Sorry.” You laugh. “You know how my head gets around bedtime sometimes. Can’t turn it off.”

“Anything in particular?”

“No, just bullshit.”

You are suddenly rolled onto your back, Frankie’s face barely visible hovering over you, but you can feel his hips slotted against yours.

“Why don’t we try and clear that mind, hmmm?” He husks, as he melts into your body with a kiss.

Chapter 10

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfic #triple frontier fanfic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #my writing #pedrostories #pedro pascal

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apocalypticgargoyle · 4 years ago

Text

𝘼𝙐𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

i wanted to use this picture so badly but I knew it would ruin the mood.

∘ request(s):

"ayo? they’re not sleeping with anyone else??? does that mean???? raw??? w edgy karl????????

"ooooo i’m lacking in edgy karl content😩 for the next one could you do one where maybe the reader is being a brat and karl puts them in their place? if that makes sense?"

"Ever since I read your edgy Karl x reader I been getting massive brainrot where reader is just questioning their relationship and Karl is just dismissive about it. It feels great to get that off my chest. 😭"

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

∘ warnings: nsfw (18+ minors dni), smut, prostitution (sort of), drinking, Todd the frat boy, crude/suggestive language, degradation, asphyxiation, spitting, angst

∘ word count: ~5k

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

∘ song recommendation: Come Here by Dominic Fike

a/n: y'all really drive this series oml. thank you to all your requests! should I do song recs on these or is that dumb? happy reading :)

♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ

You adjusted your dress, attempting to not look as unkempt as you felt. Your hair had luckily survived the bus ride to Karl’s, yet your clothing was wrinkled from being smashed against various girls with the same destination in mind. You scoffed to yourself as you leaned against the side of the house, tugging your heel into a more comfortable position as one of the women in the group knocked on the large door.

It felt like there was always some random party blaring out of the windows, so you were surprised to be mixed into an excited group of girls waiting to be invited in by one of the Brothers. The only time when you’d been over to visit Karl and there wasn’t some kind of celebration of a random event was directly before spring break.

A nameless member dressed in a tux answered the door and you bit back a laugh as he welcomed everyone into the foyer. As you scanned the crowd for Karl, you noticed the number of older people lounging about in formal attire. You furrowed your brows slightly, knowing that Todd was probably behind whatever cultist bullshit was about to happen.

You wracked your brain trying to remember if Karl had mentioned anything about the importance tonight, but knowing the two of you, he’d probably begun to tell you only for him to get distracted.

A familiar laugh drew your attention to one corner of the living room where a man who looked dangerously like Karl playfully shrugged out of the grasp of another frat member. His nails were bare and he lacked any piercings, his hair even tamed so it fell just right over his forehead. You couldn’t deny the way your mind ran absolutely feral at the view of him, as if you’d stepped into some strange alternate universe where Karl was actually Carl.

As someone else struck up the conversation in his group, he turned to look over the crowd, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. His eyes brightened as he spotted you in the mix of the group. Whoever had let you into the house handed you and the rest of the people a brochure, something you then realized most of the room was holding.

You snorted slightly as you read, “46th ANNUAL MEMBER AUCTION,” printed boldly across the front page in elegant script. Your stomach twisted slightly at the discovery. You flipped open the pamphlet, seeing a list of numbers and the names of corresponding Brothers.

Karl was 23.

“I didn’t even sign up, honestly,” a voice called in your ear as Karl leaned over your shoulder, peering at the page in your hands. His cologne was more expensive than he usually wore, made obvious by the way it complemented his natural scent with a fuller smell.

You turned slightly, nearly leaning into his warm breath above you as you moved to look at him. “Come on, let them pimp you out,” you joked, your finger underlining one of the details on the back. “It’s for the frat Karl,” you mocked, making him roll his eyes playfully. “You look awfully pretty to not have signed up,” you chided, a small amount of jealousy tugging in your chest.

He ran his tongue across his teeth, his eyes dancing with mischief as he looked down at you. “Do you want me to?”

You shrugged. “You know how loyal I am to this frat. I think it’s only right,” you continued to josh, eliciting a low chuckle from him. The smell of his whiskey hung beautifully on him. You’d be damned not to acknowledge what a catch he was.

He pulled his hand from his pocket and settled it on the small of your back, the two of you mumbling to each other as you headed towards the kitchen so he could pour you a drink. As he explained the process of the auction, your nerves started to change drastically. Luckily, your exterior kept this from Karl because you weren’t even sure yourself why you could be feeling so strongly about the event. “... Really, only the married guys get out of it without being heckled all night. It’s… I don’t know. It’s pretty lame.”

“So basically, it’s an event where the guys objectify themselves in the name of the frat." You jested, your eyes glued on his pinky ring, the only symbol of the Karl you knew. "Have you done this before?”

Karl shook his head. “I wasn’t old enough, thank God.” He leaned against the counter beside you, his back to the circulating groups of people so he was only looking at you. As he slouched, he matched your height.

You reached forward, taking the unbuttoned collar of his white shirt between your finger pads. “I’m trying to decide if I’m scared or aroused by this version of you,” you tittered, wanting so badly to feel his teeth against your skin. He smirked at you. “It’s like Wonderbread you. Like you’d have to sign a contract with me before you gave me a hug,” you teased further, making the smug look on his face twist into a laugh.

He leaned closer to you, his hand brushing to lay against the curve of your hip. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I can still rip you in half.”

You took a sip of the Brandy in your glass to hide the moan wanting to rip through your throat at the closeness of him. His lips brushed against your skin before pressing a kiss behind your ear subtly. You nudged him away from you reluctantly as Todd strolled into the kitchen, arms raised slightly as if he’d been searching the high heavens for Karl.

He moved to stand between the two of you, reaching for a decanter of a liquid you couldn’t place. Karl crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Karl, I have been looking everywhere for you.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pin with Karl’s number on it and nudging it towards him on the counter. “You know, it’s kind of fun that partners can’t bid because-” he paused before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against his side. You let out a laugh, resting your hand against his chest as Karl’s eyes darkened at the two of you. “-Your lovebug can have me tonight then, huh?” He mocked, smirking.

“Well, technically, I’m not his partner…” you added, pretending to touch Todd flirtatiously.

Todd’s arms pulled you closer. “You know what I mean, Princess.” You snickered, pushing him off of you as he moved to lean against the sink behind you. “Come on, Karl. I’m practically handing you the opportunity to hook up with MILFs, random TAs, and sorority girls,” he begged, making Karl pinch the bridge of his nose.

“That does sound intriguing,” you chimed, making Karl giggle mildly.

Todd’s eyes lit up with a sarcasticness as if you were actually promoting the idea. “You can go instead if you want to, babygirl,” he offered, tilting his head in an action to resemble a car salesman.

You looked to Karl with raised eyebrows and he shook his head in disbelief at the stupidity of whatever banter you and Todd were striking up. “That would be fun! Please, illegally pimp me out instead. I want to be solicited-”

Todd’s hand reached out to clamp over your mouth. “Okay stop.” He straightened his tie and the pin on his lapel in the shape of a number 12. You quietly wondered who were in the top places and what they were doing to be in those spots. “Karl, you’re a legacy dick. Most of those women out there probably hooked up with your family members and are back for more of that sweet sweet Jacobs-”

Karl cut him off gruffly. “-I’ll do it if you don’t finish that sentence and never bring that to my attention again.” Todd pretended to zip his lips before pointing to the pin and walking off. You took the pin in your hands, trying to ignore the shakiness of your fingers as you pinned it onto his jacket. “You know his name is actually Mark, right? He pretended to be a Romney for his first two years here.”

You snorted. “Don’t feed me that information right now.” You wet your lips, feeling his eyes on you as you brushed your hands down his lapels. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to… I was just joking.” You chewed the inside of your cheek. “Like, we can leave if you want,” you offered softly.

Karl chuckled, moving his hands up to rest over yours. “Someone’ll pay fifty bucks to take me to some dodgy hotel for ten minutes. It’ll be okay,” he assured. “Maybe I'll have fun, who knows.” He drew you closer once again. You swore you could get drunk off the intoxicating allure of his breath. “I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

You furrowed your brows, suddenly worried about having that conversation with him. “If you’re okay with it, I am,” you answered quietly, sending him a small shrug.

He popped a piece of gum in his mouth, shrugging back at you.

Everyone began to gather around the grand piano in one corner of the living room. You could suddenly feel the heat of the massive fireplace against your bare legs as Karl rested an arm against the wall above you, leaning over you slightly. “How much would you bid on me, if you could?” He whispered as Todd explained some rules to the bidders.

You looked up at him reaching up to play with his lot number. You hummed slightly in mock thought. “Maybe a packet of ramen, a Speedway rewards card, and…” you trailed off before digging into your purse and grabbing a handful of quarters, “five dollars in linty coins?” You joked, sending him an innocent smile.

He bit back a laugh. “I feel like you’re the only one that knows my true value,” he quipped sarcastically.

As the auction began to kick off, men were being bought for various currencies, from picnics in the park to gala dates and etcetera. The tension in your shoulders began to cool as there were fewer ambiguous payments. The women and men that paid sums of money were the ones that worried you the most. Karl’s hand slithered up your back until he reached the back of your neck, pressing his fingers into your skin almost possessively.

You focused on the crowd, trying to notice any peering eyes cutting into Karl, but no one seemed to have the slightest clue. Karl’s fingers worked at a knot in your neck, making you want to moan at his touch. You hated being this close to him and unable to mark him as your own. He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to the skin on your shoulder that wasn’t covered by your dress. “Relax,” he whispered, heat raking through your body at the sound of his voice.

Finally, his number came up. Before the auctioneer could finish introducing him, a handful of sorority girls sparked up with heavy numbers in the air. Your eyes widened and you could feel Karl stiffen behind you at their urgency. As their bids began to grow and add zeros, your heart began to beat in your ears.

“$5000.” Your mouth grew dry as the number halted the noise in the room. Bewilderedly, you searched the room until your eyes landed on a woman in her early-50s. You couldn’t help your mouth slightly fall open. “I’d like to bid $5000,” she repeated. You downed the rest of your Brandy, letting the alcohol sting your throat and warm your stomach. As Karl’s turn closed, your mind went blank. What did I expect to happen? You scorned.

After about an hour, the bidding was over. You plastered on a smile after everyone exited the room, standing before Karl and spending the time you had left letting your mind race with emotion. “What’s wrong?” Karl asked, nudging your arm with his elbow.

You swatted him off. “You excited to spend time with your new mommy?” You chided, making him raise his eyebrows. Your voice came out a bit more condescending than you’d intended.

Something dark flitted across his expression. “Definitely.” He pressed closer to your ear again. “I bet she cums on the slow stroke,” he leered, making you inch away from him. He giggled slightly at his own joke, before noticing your quietness. “What?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, unable to explain just how you were feeling about the situation. It was as if reality had seeped into your bones at what had happened.

Karl ran his fingers against his bottom lip as he looked at you, the skin flushing a deeper red. You’d seen the color too many times to count, but it was usually due to stimulation from you. “Don’t be like that. What’s going on?” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms softly. This seemed to only further allure him. “If you’re gonna act like a brat, I’ll start treating you like a brat,” he whispered, perking your attention. You let your eyes wander back to the ground. He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him. His calm expression added arousal to your swimming cauldron of feelings.

You pulled out of his grasp. You bit your tongue, grasping at your thoughts and searching for what you wanted to tell him. His grey irises swirled with some kind of worry and what you could only describe as fondness. Instead, you chickened out. “Just use protection, okay?” You faltered.

His features remained quiet as if in thought. In one swift movement, his hand brushed against your jaw, pressing his lips against yours. Your whole body relaxed into his touch, your eyes closing to relish in the feeling of silent loyalty to you. As his tongue brushed against your lips, it was as if he was stating just what you meant to him. If you weren’t in the right mind, you’d moan a gracious pledge of your mutual devotion into his mouth.

He pulled away shortly, leaving you flushed and winded as he reached his thumb up to swipe away the smearing of your lipstick. “I’m in your fuckin’ pocket, remember?” He acquiesced almost emotionlessly, before dropping his hands and letting you stumble. You had to will your body not to grin at what he’d said as the woman who bid on him approached the two of you.

She shook hands with both of you talking about the thrill of the event and how she’s gone for the last couple of years. “Ma’am, he’s a virgin. Please be careful,” you noted as Karl helped her into her coat. Karl’s eyes shot daggers into you, biting back a laugh of his.

The woman giggled with her whole chest. “Oh, darling. That won’t be an issue,” she gasped as she caught her breath. You covered your mouth with your hand to hide your smile as you made eye contact with an ill-looking Karl.

You opted to head back to your apartment, eyeing the clock each time you get an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your roommate had gone out for the night, leaving you to stew in your own thoughts. As two hours passed, you were beginning to feel phantom notifications from your phone, your heart skipping with faltering hope.

As if your prayers had finally been answered, a brief knock at your door sent you jumping over the back of the couch and tugging on a hoodie before you threw open the door. Karl stood leaning against the frame and cracking his knuckles. He eyed you curiously as he noticed your urgency. His shirt was barely buttoned and untucked, hair ruffled and curling here and there. As you let him into your apartment, your mouth grew dry with anticipation. Karl slumped onto your couch, kicking his feet up on your coffee table and raising an eyebrow at you.

You wet your lips, sitting on the arm of a chair near his side of the couch. “How was it?” You asked. “Did you learn anything?”

He scoffed, humor dancing behind his eyes. “You will never guess where I was.” You furrowed your brows at him as if it wasn’t obvious. To this he shook his head, sitting up to lean his elbows on his knees, reaching forward to pull you into the empty spot beside him. “So, that woman owns an art studio downtown and she holds classes for whoever. The nail polish girl in my art class is like the right-hand man to that woman and she caught wind of the auction,” he paused to loosen a few more of his buttons. “The woman has always gone to the auction, but the girl knew I was participating this year and recommended me.”

“Okay, so… You were in an art class all night?” You probed, making him grin smugly at you.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Not exactly.”

You snorted, leaning into the cushions and turning towards him. “They weren’t drawing you nude were they?” You joked sarcastically, the mental image proving to be almost unthinkable. His eyes shifted to his lap as he chuckled and you punched his arm. “You’re kidding!”

He shook his head, biting back a grin. “I had old dudes staring at my dick for two hours straight and trying to recreate it in charcoal.” You covered your mouth with your hand, waiting for him to reveal that he was joking. “They liked my cheekbones,” he taunted.

You huffed in disbelief. “Oh my fucking God.” Your mind was utterly blank. “So, you didn’t sleep with anyone?”

He smiled at you. “Nope. You’re still my only one.” Your cheeks flushed at this. “That being said, you were so incredibly immature earlier,” he chided, making your eyebrow perk with discontent.

“Excuse me,” you nearly hissed.

His eyes navigated your body. “Jealous little brat, honestly,” he scoffed. “Make it up to me.” You stared at him blankly, as if unable to comprehend his words. He moved his arms to rest on the back of the couch, letting his legs spread a bit further. You watched him intently as his jaw tensed, looking slightly intimidating as he eyed you. His calm expression started you, gears turning behind his eyes. “Did I stutter?” He nipped.

You climbed onto his lap, letting his hands slip beneath your hoodie as he gripped your hips, pulling you down to grind against his leg. Heat spread across your body at the friction, realizing now just how needy you’d been for most of the night. Funny how you didn’t even think of taking care of yourself without Karl there.

He tugged your collar to the side, pressing his lips against the sensitive skin of your neck, his warm breath a stark contrast to the cool temperature of the room. You felt his teeth glide over the valleys of your collarbones as if threatening to mark you as the brat you were. His brat.

His fingers dug into your skin, his knee bouncing slightly as he pushed you to increase your speed. You moaned against his shoulder, reaching the hand that wasn’t planted securely on his arm towards his belt. The clasp was almost second nature for you, considering the various places and positions you’d been in and wrestling with it.

As you slipped your hand into his pants, he groaned, bucking against your touch as if he'd been hungry for you all night. He rested his hand in the crook of your neck, roughly bringing your lips to his own. Instead of kissing you immediately, his lips brushed against yours, the smell of his breath dancing against your skin and forcing you to want him more as your hips moved to make up for the lack of his taste on your tongue.

Your hand gripped him through his boxers, earning a muffled grunt of pleasure from Karl. His eyes threatened to roll as you began to palm him, his breathing deep and needy. Curses hissed through his teeth, the sound further adding to how turned on you were. "Give me your mouth," he moaned, a demand you were more than happy to fulfill as you slipped onto your knees in front of him. Karl's hand gathered your hair as you tugged his boxers down. Your fingers traced the hem of his dress pants that ran against the inside of his thigh before attending to his arousal once again.

Then something clicked into your mind. "I've been thinking about what Todd said," you began, Karl's reaction dulling as you began to pump your hand around his dick. "About me sleeping with him," you continued, your voice dripping with a venomous innocence.

Karl twitched in your hand, his grip on your hair tightening. You moaned slightly as his eyes hardened. "Tread lightly, pet," he nearly growled. The gruffness of his voice sending goosebumps down your back. "You're on thin fucking ice already."

You looked up at him with doe eyes, crowding his lap. "I wonder if he's bigger than you," you commented.

You seemed to find the last straw rather quickly as Karl grabbed your arms, pulling you up and throwing you on the couch beneath him. "Fucking bitch," he snapped, ripping your underpants down your legs. "And here I was about to make this about you," he chuckled darkly, leaning on his knee to slip his jacket off his shoulders and discard his button-up shirt.

He grabbed your thighs, pulling you towards him before he ground his hips against yours roughly, clashing his lips against yours. He tugged on your hair tightly, tongue pressing into your mouth.

His lips left yours, pulling your hoodie over your head and throwing it across the room before digging his teeth into your chest. You moaned at his efforts, basking in the roughness of his actions. Karl pushed himself into you without warning, and without hesitation, he began to snap his hips into yours. Your thighs tightened around his waist, attempting to adjust to his speed before he hooked one of your legs in the crook of his elbow, pushing it towards your chest.

His hand moved to wrap around your neck possessively, his eyes burning into yours with a mix of lust and glimmers of the sadistic side of him that loved to see you tremble beneath his touch as he restricted your breathing, only for you to gasp for air when he allowed. "Fucking brat," he barked, pounding into you faster. "Bring him up again and I'll make your life miserable," he groaned, spitting into your mouth to illustrate his point.

You let him take his anger out on you as you fought not to grin at the pure sparks of pleasure pulsing through your veins at the view of him completely dominating you. Your eyes fluttered shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in an attempt not to cum from the intense stimulation, your fingers digging into the softness of the couch beneath you as you searched for something to anchor yourself.

Karl leaned back slightly, dragging a hand through his hair as he slowed his hips, his eyes glued to yours, the new angle driving him deeper into you. The view of him above you like this oddly reminded you of when the two of you went to parties and spent the night grinding against each other in the massive crowds of your peers to an unidentifiable song.

Any idiot could tell Karl could fuck by the way he danced.

Karl pressed his hips firmly against yours, bucking into you relentlessly once again, pulling your hands above your head and holding your wrists in his fist. He kissed you harshly once again, swallowing your attempts to catch your breath and dragging his teeth across your lips again.

You felt unable to control your orgasm as it raced through you, your moans echoing into Karl's mouth as your body tensed. Karl used your orgasm to ride out the rest of his own pleasure, smirking slightly at your disheveled appearance.

As the air settled, the two of you straighten up the living room, making sure to find each article of clothing so your roommate wouldn't comment. Karl sat back down on the couch, reaching an arm out for you. You raised an eyebrow at him hesitantly, with a small smirk playing on your lips.

He huffed jokingly. "Come on, I can't fuck your brains out and not hug you at least for a bit," he joshed, gesturing for you to join him.

You let out a small laugh. The man with multiple piercings, tattoos, and a glare that can insight nightmares, was always the first to ask to cuddle. You tucked into the spot beneath his arm, letting his grasp tighten around you as you wrapped a blanket around the both of you.

His heartbeat thumped against your ear, making you want to slip into a deep sleep. "I think we should set Todd up with Nail Polish Girl," you joked, breaking into the comfortable silence between the two of you. You glanced up at Karl as you said this, hoping to gauge his reaction as you silently apologized for what you'd said earlier in the name of getting him riled up.

He chuckled shortly. "We should probably straighten ourselves out before we meddle in other people's relationships," he mocked. It'd come out as a light-hearted statement, but it tugged heavily at your nerves.

You pushed yourself to sit up and look at him, suddenly anxious. "What do you mean? We're fine, right?"

Karl smirked. "Well yeah, but sooner or later we're going to have to figure out what we're doing." He wet his lips. "I mean, how much longer are we supposed to just mindlessly hook up."

"We're not mindlessly hooking up. We're friends too," you reasoned, your voice uneven as you attempted to inject humor in your statements, hoping to mask your hesitation.

He rolled his eyes slightly. "Yeah, but don't you want more? Like who do you say I am when your friends ask?" He raised his eyebrows, shortly waiting for a response before continuing. "A booty call, right? Am I supposed to be a booty call forever?"

You were taken aback slightly. His tone wasn't provocative, but that didn't stop your heart from racing. "What are you saying?"

He shrugged. "What does it sound like I'm saying?" He sat up a bit more to angle towards you. "I don't mean now, but eventually I'd like this to mean a bit more."

You stood up from the couch, nearly tripping over the coffee table as you reached for a pair of discarded sweatpants and slipped them on. "This is a lot to think about," you mumbled, unable to make eye contact with him. Your mind raced with the different outcomes of what he was talking about. Also, all of them involved the two of you going stale and him finding comfort in other people. "I mean… what we have now is good. Isn't it?"

Karl stood too, raising his hands slightly as if he were consoling a cornered animal. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I thought we were on the same page?" You rubbed the back of your neck nervously, looking for words. "I- uh. I'm sorry." His hands fisted at his sides awkwardly, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Sirens wailed from outside your windows, the street becoming the only noise in your apartment as he awaited your next move. "I'm actually… gonna head out. I'll uh… I'll text you later," he stated, grabbing his jacket, gauging your reaction.

Your tongue felt like sandpaper as you chewed the inside of your cheek. "No, uh… I think I need some time…" you trailed, your eyes flashing to his. "... To think…"

He nodded slightly, taking one last look at you before slipping out your front door, the lock clicking shut behind him.

Tag List:

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @chxrrymilkshake @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu

#this was so hard to write #edgy!karl #edgy!karl jacobs #mcyt smut #mcyt x y/n #karl jacobs x you #karl jacobs my beloved #karl jacobs angst #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs imagine #karl jacobs fanfic #college au #college au karl jacobs #karl jacobs smut #karl jacobs x y/n

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mazeinthemiroh · 2 years ago

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park seonghwa boyfriend headcanons

genre: fluff

word count: 0.6k

warnings: none

requested?: yes

song rec: dancing like butterfly wings by ateez

pls like and reblog if you enjoyed! feel free to request anything <3

a lot of you were asking. begging. pleading for me to do seonghwa bf headcanons

i honestly can't blame you

this man. this... this angel on earth-

i love him, love him so much

probably the sweetest guy you will ever meet. he is very humble and honest and so considerate of others ugh. he's just perfect.

as a boyfriend, he tends to prioritise your feelings and well-being ahead of his own. he will go above and beyond to provide and take care of you, in both little and big ways

he looks at you with those big, sparkly eyes that he does i'm gonna cry like you are literally everything to him. all he wants to do is make you feel happy and loved and wanted and appreciated

he is very in tune with his and other people's emotions, so he is attentive and aware if your mood turns negative. he believes that if you are feeling sad, neither he nor your should force yourself to be happy again. he wants you to just go through what you need to go through; he will lend a shoulder to cry on, give you tissues, run down to the shop to buy your favourite snack and support you through these negative emotions. he knows from experience that just letting these negative emotions come and go is much healthier than fighting with them. he will reassure you and ask if you want him to stay with you or let you have some alone time

likes to cuddle you in the morning. he will roll onto his side to see your sleeping form and will smile softly to himself, stretching his hand out to stroke your hair. he will shuffle closer and place an arm around your waist, cuddling you from behind pls i'm so soft for this man

you must know that dating seonghwa requires wearing matching pyjamas 🤷 its true he told me himself!! seriously though he would think it so cute matching pyjamas with you. will probably take a bunch of selfies with the both of you in these pyjamas cos yall look so cute together (and thennn he will put these pictures as his lockscreen <3)

he's a very soft and fluffy dude. he just wants to snuggle under the blankets and cuddle you all the time. when you are both cuddling he would say corny stuff like 'i could just stay here forever✨' and it always makes you giggle, but he isn't joking!!! just holding you close in comfortable silence, sometimes talking about random things, he feels so safe and loved :(

seonghwa would very much appreciate if you indulge his interests. mainly his star wars and lego addiction. you don't have to be an avid fan like him but as long as you don't hate it i think you'll be fine lmao. he will also be very open minded to cool things that you like as well!

date with him would include:

going to the park / walking around the river - he just loves walking and talking with you. it gives you guys to hold hands or link arms while you catch up about what happened that day

lego dates - yes i said it. if you like lego just as much as he does, he would love to build lego sets with you. it's always fun because you guys are creating something together whilst talking about all sorts of nonsense he'll probably make it into a competition to see who completes their lego set first, my man is competitive af!

go to the theatre - this is kinda random but i can just see seonghwa wanting to get dressed up with you and heading out to see a play or performance of some sort. he likes trying new things and what better way to do that than doing it with you?

basically seonghwa sets the standards for all other men, so true

#park seonghwa #seonghwa #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #atz #ateez #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #atz fluff #ateez fluff #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #requested #ateez x reader

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wincore · 4 years ago

Text

atlas | kim dongyoung

pairing: doyoung x reader

words: 15.4k

summary: kim doyoung has a lot of titles. student body president, music club president, favourite student of every professor who’s blessed enough to have him. in other words, he’s not your type and never will be. at least he’s a good kisser.

or, you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders and you do not know how to hold things as delicate as glass.

genre: college au, fwb au, hurt/comfort, angst, some fluff

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, language, smoking, alcohol, mentions of sex under influence, me being pretentious,,

prompt: anonymous said: slippery + doyoung + "you can rely on me, you know." from the first dialogue link! LOVE YOU ❤️

song rec(s): playlist here !

a/n: yes it’s me experimenting out of my comfort zone again. yes you are required by law to listen to keshi while reading this hahahaha anyway writing this was painful. <3 (aka today i tried writing very complex human emotions and failed again. classic.)

In the beginning, there was no beginning. Ergo, this isn’t really a thing.

You shouldn’t be thinking of summer in Introduction to Latin. You are a good (perhaps great, if your ego allows) student after all. Here you are, though, listening to the ticking of the clock and wondering if you sigh loud enough, you won’t have to construct another sentence with the word for ‘death’. You pause to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be thinking of summer out of class either. Unremarkable; that's what it was and you don’t like unremarkable things.

When two people end up alone together, there’s not much to make of.

“You know,” he had said, locking eyes. “We should get out of here.”

“And then what?”

“Fuck.”

So here’s the thing: this isn’t and won’t be a thing.

Doyoung has never been subtle when drunk, you found out, and he’s not as gentle as he looks. You flip the page of your notebook absentmindedly. You don’t like where your thoughts are going; the clinking of ice against glass rings in your ears again. It’s been far too long (one whole month) and you’re craving a bit of fun. You may forget yourself but you’re reaching your fingertips a little too far to call him again. More excuses pop up. See, in your world of perfection, there’s a hierarchy of things; men rank rather low.

(Fun doesn’t.)

Here’s another thing: you forget yourself quite often. You know very well that you’re the one who continued this not-thing and now you’re daydreaming of Kim Doyoung in class hours.

And under grey bed sheets with a tired smile, Doyoung is hard to forget.

It was a party, it always is. That time, however, was the first party of the year Doyoung and you happened to be attending at the same time. You can’t remember who hosted it—the frat probably—but it was at a bar called the ‘The Meeting Place’ which had too many people you didn’t care about. Doyoung was there, in his laid-back glory, and you were drawn in far too easily. Being single did not help your case—and the alcohol certainly didn’t. You’re not sure if it was the gentle touches against your wrist or quick words that left his mouth or the attractive all-black get-up. All you know is that it was your mouth against his by the end of the night in a small booth, hot and impatient. Once, twice, thrice and you didn’t even need parties anymore.

It’s not like you weren’t aware of what you were doing; it’s just that you were quick to give in—like you didn’t want to resist in the first place. And now, summer smells like Doyoung’s perfume.

The first night had given Mr. Student Body President a near-stroke. You weren’t the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men at parties either so the morning had been full of awkward explanations to each other till you’d kissed him to shut him up (much like in a disgusting romantic comedy, minus the feelings) and somehow, it worked. He didn’t refuse and if you recall, he’d eventually pulled you closer by the waist.

You huff, twirling your pen. He’d never admit it.

You didn’t kiss so sloppily after that, unless it was to make out against a wall or while fumbling with the keys to your apartment. The lack of alcohol can bring wonders. You were a little surprised that he’d agreed—he is the Doyoung you’ve known since freshman year after all; blunt, rude, cares more for his grades than he’d ever for you. How laughable. He’s almost the same as you.

Here’s one last thing: Kim Doyoung is not and cannot be your type.

You had the same part-time job in your second semester at a local fast food joint, and to summarize, your interactions were less than friendly. You can’t possibly count the number of times he yelled at you for trivial mistakes, and the number of times you sent angry, clipped sentences his way. So, yes, neither of you have told anyone—just acting friendly got you enough eyebrow raises. If there’s anything worse than contradicting yourself almost directly, it’s having to explain that to your friends. So, you kept it a secret and so did he, for his own reasons.

You massage your forehead. If you think any more of this during class hours, you’re going to have to classify this as a terrible, terrible problem; like you don’t have enough already. You tune in to the lecture again, hoping it drowns out the rest of your thoughts.

You tap your pen against the desk till you’re asked to stop by the professor. There goes your last resort. It isn’t the first time, but you breathe a sigh of relief at the hands of the clock. Casual means casual—you know it better than anyone. Maybe it would be easier if you could be more open about it. But you can’t. Your own problems aside, Doyoung would kill you if his reputation went down, even a nick. Men like that are so difficult, you curse to yourself.

You run into Ten in the hallways, brightening at his absurdly wide grin. In fact, you haven’t seen him remotely upset since freshman year, when he couldn’t join the dance club, not because he failed the audition but because he mixed up the dates and missed it entirely. (It’s okay; he got in the next year.)

“Guess what!” he yells before you’re even in conversation range.

“What?” you yell back.

“No, guess,” he says, when you’re close enough.

You roll your eyes. “You scored a date?”

Ten deadpans. “No. I don’t even want one.”

“Loser.”

“No, you.”

“How clever.”

Ten flicks your forehead with no provocation whatsoever, making you yelp in pain. After a minute of cursing on your part, he squishes your cheeks to bring you back to reality—like he wasn’t the cause. You bite your lip to keep yourself from scowling. His hair is still light brown from the bleach, and you fix his bangs out of habit; your dumb friends are all you have at the end of the day. You sigh. They all lean on you unwittingly.

“Anyway, the news? I’m not guessing anything else,” you warn, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Well,” he draws out the syllable. “I heard- know you’re into the smart type. You know, student council kinda guys? So…”

You choke, the coffee leaving your mouth just as quick as it entered.

“Who told you that?” The laugh that leaves your mouth is forced and certainly fake but it’s the best you can do.

Ten rolls her eyes, still smiling. “I was thinking if you would be interested in a certain Park Hyungmin.”

Oh. Student body vice-president. He’s most definitely your type, with a gifted body and equally strong academic prowess—not to mention perfectly maintained tan skin and the most radiant smile you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Oh, yeah, he’s hot,” you nod in agreement. “What do you want me to do with him?”

“He likes you. Like, totally has the hots for you. And I owe him so please help me out here.”

You furrow your brows, heaving a deep sigh.

“You...want me to go on a date with him?” you ask.

You can oblige. Park Hyungmin is the hottest dude on campus (probably). It’s a win-win situation—in fact, it’s even better. A certain bitter taste finds itself in your mouth. It must be the coffee. You swallow it.

“Yeah.”

And the deal’s done.

It was casual commitment, like most things you do for fun. You don’t think much of it, and the thought takes its final bow when you run into Doyoung himself.

Well, sort of.

You turn heel when he appears in your line of sight, pretending to fix your hair against a damn wall. You aren’t quite ready to face him yet, considering the coffee hasn’t kicked in—it’s not healthy how much you depend on it. Dependence is different, however, from consciously drowning yourself in it.

See, Doyoung is anything but tolerable without a few shots of vodka. Or after sex. Or when he’s mumbling in his sleep. And you can’t erase any of those scenes. This is you trying to save yourself (and Doyoung) from embarrassment and a whole lot of explanation.

His coat looks expensive and you’d rather he had it on instead of on his arm. The tucked-in sweater and pants combo accentuates the line of his waist and the colour—you wonder where he found a teal so fitting—looks serene in the crowd. He’s wearing his glasses though, looking a little less put together than usual. Still, no one seems to notice and he continues to explain something to his group of friends.

God forbid you find Doyoung attractive during daytime.

His lips are chapped but pink as ever, the hair messed up by either the wind or his friends—you should stop staring by now. You give in. You’ll text him to book a hotel room tonight.

Sometimes you wonder how he has that large a friend circle, and always, the question answers itself. Eloquence, wit and regrettably, good looks—what does he lack? Maybe if he lost the habit to nag people around fifty-six times a day, he’d be the perfect man.

An arm slings over your shoulder, punting the soul right out of your body.

“Fuck, Johnny, don’t do that,” you hiss, placing your hand over your chest involuntarily.

The head of the photography club apparently spends his time terrorizing everyone he remotely knows. You make a foul expression but iIt’s not like he ever minds your scowling. He says he’s had enough practice from teasing Doyoung (and you’ll admit, it’s the only time you feel sorry for him). You were certain Doyoung would have filed him for harassment sometime in sophomore year.

“What are you even looking at?” Johnny asks, raising an eyebrow at the plain offwhite expanse of the wall in front of you.

You feel hot at the neck. “I was fixing my hair.”

“In front of a wall?”

You click your tongue. “Do you not have class?”

“Oh, don’t be so quick to send me off.” He places a hand over his chest in mock hurt, fingers stretched delicately.

To your dismay, the rest of his friends gather around giving you happy greetings—greetings only carefree college boys are capable of delivering. To your further dismay, Kim Doyoung arches an eyebrow at you, the same way he does on nights you’re doing things less than appropriate to think of in broad daylight.

“Hey, Doyoung, don’t you have anything to say? Or were you too drunk to remember?”

You bite down on your lip a little too hard. Doyoung, on the other hand, looks like he’s just seen God, stammering out a “what?” nevertheless.

“Weren’t you supposed to buy (name) a drink for driving you home that night?”

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat.

Oh, he’s bought you a drink enough times. Summer has waned but whatever thread you tied around your wrists hasn’t. Right now, your guess is that Doyoung has been ensnared in the common ritual for college boys to walk around campus and declare their friend is single just to embarrass him (or by some miracle, score him a date).

Everything, apart from the way you look at Doyoung, feels like a charade. You shake your head with a quick laugh, smacking Johnny in the arm and pay your condolences to Doyoung—keep it light. You’re good at it, or pretending you’re good at it, at the very least.

Doyoung’s gaze on you lingers for a moment and then you breathe. You’re going to be late for class—you offer the classic excuse and you’re out of there. In a way, it’s exciting. You’ve always wanted to have a secret relationship, even if this isn’t a real one.

Doyoung is like the summer breeze, and you’d like for him to stay that way.

The next time you grace each other’s presence is when Doyoung’s tongue is in your mouth and his hands are running up under your shirt.

He’s quite a pretty sight—messy hair, red lips and rosy cheeks. He moans into the kiss as he has quite a few times now and there’s the lovers’ high running through either of your minds. When he presses his lips to your neck, a soft restrained sound escapes you, not quite prepared for the sting of electricity through your skin. He moves to your collarbone and shoulders and then even lower, hands gripping your waist tight. The walls do not have ears here; these hotels are cheap but they’re built for privacy and maybe you’ll let yourself believe for once that you can belong to someone.

“Why did you text me in the middle of the goddamn night?” he mutters against the base of your neck.

“You want reasons now?” you whisper, hands running through his hair.

Doyoung has pretty fingers, pressing at the right places and prettier eyes that look at you with something akin to, dare you say it, love. He kisses you like he hasn’t had enough; and it makes you feel important.

He’s even better when he’s annoyed.

You wake up at around five in the morning. Propping yourself up on one arm, you take a moment to look at your partner. It’s easy to make out the line of his nose against the pillow, and if you focus, you can see his lashes against his cheek and his dark mop of hair clinging to his forehead. However gentle the moonlight is, it is kindest on a lover.

Funny.

Too tired to sneak out, you go back to sleep.

“All I’m saying is that you have too much coffee,” Doyoung complains, slipping on his loose black sweatshirt. “It can’t be good for your health.”

You shake your head, scrolling through your phone as you lay on your belly. You’ve seen this view enough times—his back to you and sitting at the opposite edge of the bed, his incessant complaints and opinions about something that happened recently, running his hand through his hair when he sighs. You press on the calendar app and type in a note labeled ‘x’. Keeping tabs isn’t a bad thing; especially if you like order. Spending too many nights with someone is going to land you in trouble. That said, if you could trap love in a bottle, you would.

“You taste like coffee,” Doyoung adds with reddening ears.

Sometimes, it’s easy to ignore what he says if you listen to the sound of his voice instead. You sit up, scooting closer as Doyoung shoots you an alarmed look. He’s so cute like this; something about all the painted fences he puts up around him makes you want to lean in closer.

“So,” you poke his side. “How many relationships have you been in? Proper ones.”

“Three,” he answers, to your surprise.

Your eyebrows shoot up. “That’s more than I’ve been in!”

Doyoung furrows his. “How many have you been in?”

“One.”

He seems equally surprised but doesn’t probe further. After all, the price sticker that spells ‘youth’ clings to his forehead just as it clings to yours.

“How many people have you fucked?” you ask suddenly, enjoying the visible flush across his neck.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he notes, flicking your forehead.

“Ow!” You place your palm against your forehead. “Okay, I get it, you have nothing to brag about.”

He shakes his head, an exasperated sigh leaving him. “I just don’t think you have to know. I like privacy.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “Don’t tell me- That night- don’t tell me you were a virgin—”

Doyoung squishes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, a laugh erupting from your mouth.

“Who’s a virgin?”

Nothing about this, you find yourself realizing, is complicated. It’s easy, gentle, natural, like a breath of fresh air—everything but complicated. Even under dim lights and within the depths of night, Doyoung is warm and uncomplicated. His chest, his hands, his lips—they are warm, as are his words.

But Doyoung is a fucking fairytale.

Even after these few months, all you know about him, in the definitive format, is that he plays the keys for more hours than he sleeps. What he does for fun, what his classes are, how he became student body president—you could play guessing games all night.

“Do your friends know where you spend your nights?” you ask, leaning back against the pillows.

“They know what I’m doing, not who I’m with,” he responds, running his fingers through his hair.

You purse your lips. It’s nothing hurtful but you don’t like the hush-hush in his tone.

“Why not?”

“Because this is a secret,” he responds as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Do you want them to know?”

He’s right.

“Ah, whatever,” you mutter, a stream of curses following when your elbow collides hard with the edge of the bedside table.

“Your mouth is filthy.” He looks away to his phone. “I don’t swear as much.”

“Well, of course it is. I had your—”

Doyoung presses his palm against your lips with a tired sigh. “Please. Don’t speak. For the sake of my sanity.”

You smile under his hand and he returns it; and the November morning warms up.

“Where were you last night?”

You were expecting the question. Areum is the worst possible candidate for a roommate if you want some privacy. You don’t think she ever sleeps; sometimes, you wonder if she even showers because all she does is stare at her laptop screen and adjust her designs. Her lips are always chapped and her hair is always in a simple low ponytail but somehow still messy. You’ve never met someone so exhausted yet so full of life at the same time.

“Who were you with last night?” Eunji yells from the bathroom, before the two of them laugh.

You knew you shouldn’t have stayed the morning. You have the nosiest roommates anyone could (not) ask for. But they’re still your friends, you tell yourself begrudgingly. You would tell them about Doyoung if it weren’t for Eunji’s big mouth and Areum’s lack of common sense. And if it weren’t for the inherent comfort of privacy.

(Some part of you wants to keep him to yourself. You don’t care about student council president Doyoung or his friend group’s everything-regulator Doyoung or always-has-his-shit-together Doyoung. The one in your bed is the most loving.)

Areum adjusts her glasses, narrowing her eyes at you. “So? Any answer?”

You break out of your daydream at her voice, feeling a flush creep up your neck.

“I don’t have to explain anything,” you retort, snatching the coffee she brewed from the tabletop. “It was a Friday night and the two of you like Netflix more than me.”

“That’s mine,” Areum mumbles out a weak complaint.

“But don’t go out alone,” Eunji whines. “It can’t be safe.”

You laugh. “You know me. I don’t do anything too dangerous. Besides, you guys have that tracker app.”

They shrug, offering you a thin smile. A part of you is happy that they trust you but another part wonders what it would be like to be worried over. Maybe getting nagged isn’t so bad.

You take a sip of Areum’s coffee and almost spit it out right back.

“Did you add salt?” you ask, wiping at your mouth and hoping the taste disappears.

“Uh.” A reply so intelligent, you wonder if she ever pays attention to anything she's doing.

You take a moment (a few), sigh (several times) and make your way to the shelves. Grumbling, you make her a proper cup of coffee before you leave.

Classes don’t wait for you (even if you think they should) and the world doesn’t wait for you (again, you think it should wait for people) so you’ve made it a point to understand the whole deal about rules. If everyone followed the rules, it would be quite a pretty scene; messing up is only valid if it’s done prettily. You laugh at the thought. That’s near impossible. The bus ride to the campus consists of music and thoughts of bleak tomorrows—an average commute for college kids, you think. You sure hope you aren’t alone in this.

Doyoung smiles at you in the hallway today, and despite your best efforts, it makes your day smell a little fresher.

Your day: classes, coffee break, classes, complaining with Ten, assignments, ‘me’ time. For someone who pretends to be laid back, you use your planner as though for survival. There’s no sticky notes or colourful sketches (except on occasion); just good old fashioned to-do lists and a calendar marked with time you’ve spent on productivity. Every day is a list to be completed. If people call routine a man-made cage, instinct is the biological cage. You’d rather be in control of the cage you’re in. You’d rather be in control of yourself. It’s scary otherwise.

So you know how to get the job done—it’s ingrained into you the same way you would place your hands over your ears at loud sounds, or the way you would run to your bed in the dark after switching off the lights.

It never occurs to you that the reason your world is so perfect is a sad one.

Sometime next month, it’s going to snow. Not yet though, and it’s still too cold.

The inside of the cafe helps the slightest, the heaters situated far back from where you sit. Christmas decorations are up already and the combination of red and green meshes delightfully into the form of an aching headache. The wood paneling on the walls are worn at the corners, the garlands hardly covering them, and the barista behind the counter seems as gloomy as the decorations are bright. You wouldn’t be noticing all of this if you weren’t stuck in one position.

You lean your cheek further into your palm and sigh, only this time Ten asks you to, quote, ‘shut the fuck up’.

He pulls up his sleeve and reaches for another pencil. His cryptic process continues, as it has been for the past half an hour and you feel yourself getting impatient, trying to not bounce your leg and get another bout of quibbling from your half-mad artist friend. You don’t usually run low on patience; but Ten has a special pass to test drive it.

“How much lon—”

“Shh!” He hushes you quickly. You can’t remember why you agreed to being his portrait study subject but you sure as hell regret it.

Around fifteen minutes later, you take a (permitted) breath. You have neither the energy nor the neck strength to glare at Ten but you make sure to show your displeasure by snatching the cookies from the table with a particularly sour look. He gets up and pushes you to the side of the small worn-out couch offered by the equally small booth.

“God, that chair was uncomfortable. My butt is frozen solid,” he lets you know, and you roll your eyes.

“You know, if we weren’t friends in high school, I would never be friends with you,” you state.

Ten tilts his head to the side, a mocking pout over his lips. “I would die without you, (name). Really.”

You smack his arm and he yelps, smacking your arm right back. The sound attracts some attention and giggles, and you make a gagging gesture to let them know you are in way or form in a relationship. The low-volume music changes to something with a more distinguishable beat, the sound of doors opening and closing almost every two minutes accompanying. Arriving on time is an accomplishment, especially arriving before rush hour on Fridays at the only decent cafe on campus, but both of your classes end early and there is no way you aren’t taking advantage of that. Leaving, however, is mostly done when you’re being glared at by the waiters and waitresses.

“Doyoung asked about you,” Ten says, all of a sudden. “Kim Doyoung.”

You try to not show concern, but raise an eyebrow. “What? So? He’s not my type or anything.”

You bite your tongue. That was too quick a response, too obvious. Your cheeks grow hot. Ten doesn't say anything, however, and for a moment, you think you’re in safe waters.

“Are you guys… into each other or not?”

You cough, trying to show your surprise at something so outrageous. “Why would you think that? Does he look like someone who dates around?”

“Actually, he’s been on quite a few dates.”

“No way.”

You know that. He’s told you about it before, in vague references, but you know about them nonetheless.

“Isn’t one student council guy enough?” you mumble. “Why are we talking about Doyoung?”

He shrugs, a familiar feline smile on his face. “Just asking. He talks about you sometimes. Actually, we forced it out of him but whatever.”

You shake your head. “You’re all terrible.”

“You seem to like him though.”

“Who said that?”

Ten sighs, ignoring your question. “If you guys are dating—”

“We’re not.”

“—or fucking—”

“Ten.”

“—you should learn a thing or two about him. The guy’s not as annoying as he looks. Or stuck-up. He’s really nice but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I know that,” you snap, feeling warm at the neck all of a sudden. “I know him.”

“Oh, you do? Tell me what his hobbies are then. Or his major. Or the clubs he’s in, apart from the student council.”

“He- He likes to sing and he’s- he’s—god, what is this? An interrogation? I’m not going to meet his mom for dinner.”

Ten gives you an ‘I knew it’ look before leaning his elbow onto the table. “You’re sleeping with a guy you don’t know anything about. Serial killers would love you.”

You massage your forehead. “Look, I know he’s a good guy, okay? And he’s sweet- and- and—wait a minute. Oh my god, you tricked me.”

Ten lets out a snort. “Hey. Okay, look, the other guys might be dumb as shit but I have, you know, a working set of eyes. I can tell. It’s not that hard.”

You grumble but the cat’s out of the bag anyway. You should’ve known Ten would figure it out—he’s a nosy little shit, and he’s been that way since high school.

“Whatever. As long as Doyoung doesn’t start panicking about his tarnished reputation or whatever.”

“Oh, I think he’s desperate to let everyone know.”

“To you, Ten, everything seems obvious. It’s annoying.” You mess up his hair.

“No, I mean, I thought you were dating.”

“Well, we’re not.”

Ten shrugs.

“And I don’t like him,” you add. “I like the- the thing that’s going on because there’s no feelings attached.”

He looks somewhat pained, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, but doesn’t respond to your explanation. “Can I ask for a favour?”

“No.”

Ten sighs. “Come on. You didn’t even hear me out.”

“You’re going to say something stupid. Or insulting.”

“It’s neither, promise.”

You run your hand through your hair, breathing shallow. “Fine. I don’t have to agree though.”

Ten purses his lips. “It’d be better if you did.”

You hum in response, biting into the cookie and trying to ignore the glare from the nearby waitress. It’s about time you left anyway.

“Get to know him, dude. Don’t break his heart.”

“What?”

“Just kidding. There’s a party tonight. Hosted by yours truly. Finally moved out of that stinky dorm room. Bring over some friends but not more than three. And lend me some money for a juicebox.”

“That’s a lot,” you mutter. “You ask for a lot of favours.”

“Oh, speaking of which, Hyungmin—”

“He already asked me out on a date. Am I supposed to say no? You never mentioned he has such an attractive voice.”

“Oh, I’m not telling you to not go on that date. You have to, actually. I’m going to be in a lot of trouble otherwise.”

“That sounds good to me.”

“Shut up. I’m not done speaking.”

You roll your eyes.

“But if you didn’t, I could draw some conclusions.”

“What am I, your chemistry experiment now?”

“Well, you and Doyoung seem to be—”

“Don’t complete that sentence.”

“I was going to say something funny.”

Ten flashes you a blinding smile and you sigh. By now, you’re about to get kicked out of here so you stand up discreetly while he packs up his stuff. You hug your jacket close to you as soon as you leave, shivering at the evening breeze. The sky is inky, but with a faint sort of ink—deep blue and light, all at once. From the crowd, you can tell classes just got over for quite a few people, eclectic chatter filling up the street.

“Fine. I’ll bring Eunji,” you tell Ten after some contemplation. “And whoever else responds to my text first. Areum never leaves the room. You know that.”

“Thanks, (name)!” he messes up your hair. “I would give you a kiss but someone will end up punching my pretty face.”

You furrow your brows. “Well, you’re not my type anyway.”

“I’m too good for you,” he responds in a sing-song manner, waving at you before running off and disappearing into the university crowd.

There’s always a sort of buzz in the air you can’t quite describe at college parties.

Even if this is a relatively small one, you feel an oncoming headache the moment you enter Ten’s new apartment, which you’re sure had a ‘no parties’ rule in the rental contract. You spot Kun, Ten’s roommate from the dorms and he flashes you a quick smile in greeting before he’s swept up by a doting crowd. Apparently, a cute guy in animal sciences is rare and it makes him rather popular.

Eunji disappears from your side the moment she spots Johnny, and the number of eye rolls you’ve given her haven’t warned her off him yet. You suppose it takes heartbreak to change a person. Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen only to be greeted with the strange sight of Yuta trying to balance Jaehyun on his back so they can imitate some anime formation and back out immediately. Living room, it is, despite its populous space. (You don’t really want to think of bedrooms right now.)

The apartment is quite big for what Ten told you the rent was. The hallway to the two bedrooms is narrow but you suppose something has to be sacrificed for space. You furrow your eyebrows at the two bedroom doors. Ten never said he was getting a roommate. You shrug it off, sitting down on the rather stiff couch. The lack of furniture, apart from the couch and a coffee table, makes the place look even larger and people sparse. You like the beige walls; Ten’s always loved warmer colours but something makes you think he’s going to be ruining them in a few days with garish green paint before he comes crying about that to you.

“Hey.”

You look up to the familiar voice, heart rising to your throat.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Doyoung remarks before sitting down beside you and offering you a cup of god-knows-what.

“I don’t take drinks from strange men,” you say, biting down your smile and crossing your arms.

“If you didn’t take drinks from strange men, we wouldn’t be fu—”

“Doyoung!” you hiss before looking at him with careful suspicion. “Are you drunk?”

“No. A little bit. Not enough.”

You sigh. “How will you get home now?”

“I live here, idiot.”

“You’re- You’re Ten’s roommate?” you sputter.

“Yeah. New one,” he responds. “He used to live across our room in the dorms, I can’t believe I actually agreed to this.”

“I can’t believe it either. I’ve seen cats and dogs friendlier with each other than the two of you.”

Doyoung laughs. “He’s surprisingly one of the better people to room with. I’d rather eat my own blanket than room with Yuta again.”

You laugh at his irked expression, eyebrows furrowed so cutely. The line of his brow bone to nose to lips, it seems a little too perfect to belong to someone. He relaxes his shoulders a little, leaning back on the couch as he looks somewhat lost in thought. (“You think too much,” you’d told him once. “And you think too little.”) If only that were true, you smile to yourself.

“Are you sure you can hold parties here?” you as when the music suddenly rises in volume.

“Well, it said student-friendly,” Doyoung responds, looking visibly disturbed. “Not sure if I want to test the limits of that so early.”

There’s a pause, filled in with loud pop music. You don’t think Ten, your dear introvert, would have agreed to such a party but there’s a chance Johnny or Jaehyun had something to do with this. You don’t know who to suspect when it comes to their group of friends.

“I still can’t believe you’re rooming with Ten.” You look at Doyoung.

“Well, that makes, what, eleven of us, I guess?”

You laugh, feeling conscious all of sudden. Maybe you should listen to Ten’s advice.

“Doyoung,” you call, looking at the cup in your hands a little too passionately. “What’s your major?”

He looks at you with eyes widened ever so slightly, and a pause over his lips.

“Linguistics,” he answers.

“Oh. You said something about it once,” you mumble, recalling something vague about an assignment of his. “You know mine?”

“Yeah,” he answers, eyes cast on his watch.

“Well, that makes me feel a little guilty,” you mumble as softly as you can.

“You should be,” he says. “You never listen to anything I say.”

You scoff. “You just complain most of the time.”

“Really now?”

“Yes,” you snap, looking away.

You look back again when you hear the sound of Doyoung’s laugh, a distinct brightness in it. Sometimes, you wonder if you really are as awful as you’ve made yourself be.

“You’re cute,” he says. “No wonder everyone is so in love with you.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you.

“Everyone?” you laugh. You don’t care about everyone. It’s burdensome.

“Everyone. They hate you too, by the way.” He smiles to himself. “Heard you’re going on a date with that dimwit. Hyungmin.”

You feel a sudden discomfort in your being. Taking a sip of the drink, you try to shake it off as best as you can.

“Yeah, I- I don’t think I’ll go,” you say, waving it off.

Why are you lying? You left it hanging on a maybe. Part of you wants to tell Doyoung; he is your friend after all and you tell friends stuff like this. The other part tells you this is cheating; lying and pretending everything is okay—it feels like cheating.

“Oh.” He looks lost before he focuses on you. “Why not?”

“Why do you care?” you ask, trying desperately to calm the uprising in your chest.

He stays quiet for a few seconds and then shrugs, looking away from you. It makes you feel a little guilty to dismiss the situation so quickly, another item to add to your troubles. You sigh.

“Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” You can see his Adam's apple bob up and down.

“I’m not,” you say. “I’m wrong. I really didn’t mean it.”

He looks at you all at once, his gaze so gentle that it makes you think he wants to kiss you, or do something equally affectionate. Instead he sighs, downing whatever’s left of his drink before a wash of sudden looseness does away with the tension in his body.

“You have any more questions for me?” he asks, smiling. “What's it like to be student body president—or, or what instruments can I play? My favourite animal? Colour?”

You smile back. “What is your favourite animal?”

“I don’t have one. Don’t like them. Unless it’s a soft toy.”

“No way. You’re lying.”

“Now, I answer your questions and you call me a liar? Makes me a little hesitant to answer the next.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, next then. Why didn’t you join the frat? All your friends are in it.”

“Hurts my ego.”

You laugh. He’s still probably an honorary member. There is no way he’s apart from friends for too long with all those feelings of fraternity he has, no matter what he says. It’s the same as you. Affection leads nowhere though; just to short-lived moments of comfort.

You realize, through the course of the night, that you never asked. How he got into the student council, what his classes are, what he does for fun—you never asked. It’s almost like you didn’t want to know.

How sad, you muse to yourself, to be this way. To be so wrapped up in your own problems that you fail to see people around you. Pity, however, isn’t something to feel at a party. You talk with Doyoung for the rest of the night till the sound of his voice makes you feel certain ghosts of butterflies, and till you have to take Eunji home before she does something she regrets. This is what it really means to have the price tag of ‘youth’ strung across you perhaps—when you feel old and immature all at once, and in between, when you feel nothing at all.

Doyoung is too old to mistake love. Or too young.

Labels don’t define anything, especially when it comes to relationships—so even if he calls it love, whispers it to himself at midnight when he’s sitting alone on his bed while his friends are passed out drunk on the floor, it is empty. And then there’s you. The heat of your skin, the curse of your smile and that cheeky laugh you do to get on his nerves. He wants all of it and he’s not ashamed—but he’d be a liar to say he can shout it to the whole world. He’s not that kind of man, and what is his can remain his without the rest of the world prying its damn fingers in. The first night, no, the second—third? He can’t remember which night it was but something pent up in him exploded and he didn’t try to control it for once.

“Ow,” he mutters.

His throat burns from the whiskey. He hates drinking alone but you’re either asleep or with friends and he can’t think of anyone else but you. He tugs at the turtleneck collar, getting uncomfortable by the minute, and then proceeds to take off his coat.

For a moment, he considers getting back to the living room. There were more than enough people with lingering touches against his shoulder and longing gazes—they’re not you. He leans back onto his bed. Another hour and everyone will be gone; why did he even let them hold a party in the first place? Parties just remind him of you—he takes a whiff and smells summer and lemon vodka all of a sudden. A deep sigh leaves his lips.

You might not seem to find yourself especially sad, but Doyoung finds something oddly touching about you. Maybe it’s the way you say his name, he muses, like you’re desperately trying to fill the gaps. But it can’t be him in particular, of course—it’s a lover, any lover.

He hates long nights, just as he hates winter but lately, they haven’t been feeling too cold. Isn’t it ridiculous the way he’s running after you? Doyoung was never meant for this. It’s fucking pathetic and it makes him want to tear all his hair out but there he is, still and quiet in the same place. A certain agony makes its way through him. His hands are freezing and yet his insides are burning—nothing makes sense and right now, he doesn’t want it to. He presses his cold hands to the warmth of his cheeks and a laugh erupts from his mouth.

He must be going crazy to laugh like this in an empty room. The car lights from the window travel slowly from wall to ceiling, the only thing moving in the stagnant of his room.

Inevitably, he thinks of the end. It should come quick; in fact, he’s never been one to do this. He’s always been someone to get attached to people. He doesn’t know how the end will come because this shouldn’t have begun in the first place.

Doyoung’s out of breath.

“Crazy bastard,” he mumbles to himself, followed by a groan when he lifts his head up. As if on cue, the door opens and shuts with a bang. Ten walks in looking drowsy, running his hand through his hair with a disgruntled face.

“I hate to say this,” he slurs. “But you’re right. We can’t have extra furniture and parties. Gotta choose one.”

Ten lays down flat on the bed. “I vote out that ugly ass clock you bought. Why do we need it? We have phones and laptops.”

“It was a gift,” Doyoung mutters.

“Oh. Uh. Actually, someone already, uh—”

“Leave it. We’ll talk about that in the morning.”

Doyoung massages his forehead, groaning at the pain when Ten suddenly decides he’s all up for cuddling.

“Ew,” he says, scooting away from Ten. “Get away from me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Ten whines, trying very hard to pull Doyoung into a hug. Of course, his attempts are blocked by Doyoung’s palm against his forehead.

After a few more seconds of trying, Ten huffs and turns away, crossing his arms. “I don’t like you anyway.”

“I know,” Doyoung mutters.

Ten erupts into laughter, sounding more like a psychopath than a close friend of his.

“You do that every time you like someone?” he asks in between fits.

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “I just said—okay, yeah. Whatever.”

There’s a much needed silence and Doyoung wonders if he can just fall asleep without kicking Ten out.

“You should tell (name),” Ten says all of a sudden, Doyoung’s heart stopping at your name.

“What?” he whispers.

Ten looks at him as though he’s talking to a particularly stupid child. It makes Doyoung scowl but there’s too much alcohol in his system to know if he really means it.

“You don’t- you’re- everyone in this goddamn building knows,” Ten explains, exasperated. “Jaehyun knows, and he’s the densest kid I’ve ever met. God, if you like (name), go for it.”

Doyoung blushes so deep, he considers pressing his palms to his cheeks again. He thinks for the next few moments. Ah well, if they had to find out, he’s glad he didn’t have to declare it himself.

“Whatever, just ask (name) out. It can’t be that complicated.”

Except it is. You don’t have to spell it out for him—he knows the way you feel. The two of you only ever wanted one thing out of this. But if there’s something Doyoung isn’t good at, it’s keeping his mouth shut. He wonders how many times he let it slip, wonders if you even care enough to notice. God, it’s starting to sound pitiful for him.

“Ten. How much did you drink?” Doyoung asks, raising his head.

“Nothing. None. I’m not drunk.” Ten shrugs. “Just sleepy.”

A ‘wow’ is all Doyoung can respond with. He still isn’t quite finished figuring out what sort of horrific planet Ten stumbled from. A notification ding distracts him from kicking Ten off his bed and he has half a mind to toss it onto the bedside table but it’s still half. He softens almost immediately.

It’s a text from you: a ‘u’ followed by a smiley face and then a meme he can’t quite read through hazy eyes. He finds himself smiling anyway and sends a barrage of emojis, whatever he finds because he likes the way you get annoyed at them. Sighing, he decides that’s enough. He’s not in the right state of mind for conversation.

Doyoung shuts his phone off, attempts to push Ten off the bed one last time before closing his eyes and dozing off.

Not every day is meant to be fun—you know that in your twenties—but it’s still somewhat disappointing to have bad days. Like youth is meant to give you some sort of happiness daily. That’s what they make it sound like.

You groan, rubbing at your back. Sitting at your study desk for so long does not have good long term effects. At least, your temporary, meaningless assignments are done. You scowl at the text on your laptop screen; the more you look at it, the more you hate it and so, you shut it off. It’s not like your pissy professor is going to be impressed by anything you do. However, you like the orderly certainty of schoolwork.

Break time consists of guilt and sugary snacks. You’re done with most everything and you suppose leaving the final review of things to a later date can’t hurt. In fact, it sounds rather appeasing. A few more moments pass in making a decision.

You get dressed. The apartment feels eerie all alone, and you’re sure as hell not going to spend the rest of your evening here. You shiver, quickly striding out the front door and locking it before taking out your phone.

People misunderstand winter. Winter is only the end of things; and sometimes, the beginning. It isn’t cruel or crushing, it’s just taking its course. However, you have a tendency to blame seasons for all that happen in it. For instance, you shouldn’t be missing summer when you really miss the first night with Doyoung.

He picks up after calling thrice. You wonder what he’s even up to, if Saturday evenings are also booked full for such a guy.

“Why do you take so long to pick up?” you complain. “Do you not get days off?”

“I’m busy,” he hisses.

Something’s wrong.

You pause, unsure what to do. It’s not his voice but the one in the background that catches your attention.

Inviting him somewhere.

Rather sensually.

Your ears feel hot and you drop the call. Of course. Of fucking course. You’re the idiot thinking it was a thing. This whole thing is casual—feeling sorry wasn’t in the contract. Fucking around was.

It’s not like you’ll be heartbroken by something like this. Of course not. Of course. Doyoung and you never had a beginning so there isn’t an end, really. It’s fine. It’s fine. You take a deep breath and browse through your phone. With the onset of Christmas holidays, you have around three options left. Ten (yikes), Jaehyun (no way) or the latest addition, Hyungmin.

Well, you’re dressed. You have to go somewhere. And your statement about Hyungmin being the hottest guy on campus still stands.

You send two texts to the boy before deciding that’s apparently enough time waiting. He picks up after a few rings, voice groggy from what you assume to be a late afternoon nap.

“You up for a drink?” You cut to the point.

“Uh? Oh, uh, now? I am, of course- I just need—”

“Twenty minutes. I’ll text you the address.”

Nothing cheers you up like your favourite bar. Or friends. Or people who respond to calls.

Hongdae is as busy as ever. You knew the bar would be packed but not this packed. Still, you managed to grab a seat at the bar table. With the oncoming night, the smell is just going to get worse—so there’s nothing wrong with treating yourself to some lemon vodka (and its refreshing scent).

Hyungmin arrives exactly four minutes early, and the mussed up hair makes you think he must have been in a hurry. For what, you can’t be sure.

You can still see the inklings of Hongdae nightlights on his hair right before he enters, and in the fallacy of that moment, you think it’s going to be Doyoung. You sigh. This isn’t the time for that.

“Sorry,” you say, gesturing to the bar table. “All the tables were booked.”

“No, no,” he responds quickly. “I actually prefer it here.”

He’s tall, not that it’s the first time you’re noticing, but even when he’s sitting, he’s at least two heads taller than you are. His shoulders are accentuated by the mocha coat, no doubt part of the latest trend this winter. As a fashion student, he hits the mark and more.

For a moment, you feel bad for knowing his major. Ten let it slip about him and yet still, you feel guilty for remembering it. You’re not supposed to go into unnecessary detail about people that don’t matter. Does he matter?

“Surprised you could make it,” you joke half-heartedly. “Aren’t you lot always busy with something?”

He laughs. “The student council? Oh, we’re busy alright.”

Busy. Right.

“What about you? Aren’t you part of like three different clubs?”

“So what kind of busy?” you ask, ignoring his question. You’re part of two, now that you left the music club last semester. It’s not like small talk matters though.

“Uh,” he hesitates. “You know- attend meetings and events, coordinate committee work, supervise stuff, etcetera etcetera. So busy, yeah.”

“Busy on Saturdays too?” you ask, before thanking the bartender for the drinks.

“Yeah, I guess. Doyoung has it worse than me honestly. Even now, he has to take care of stuff because of me. Hah…”

You gulp down your drink making Hyungmin raise an eyebrow in concern. “Stuff? Because of you?”

“Yeah.” Hyungmin scratches the back of his head. “He’s with the girls.”

“Girls?” you ask, playing with the glass. You’re starting to feel annoyed, red lining your vision.

“Yeah.” He makes no notion of clarifying his statement.

“Must be quite the president,” you say, resting your cheek against your palm.

“Oh, he’s a nightmare.” Hyungmin laughs. “He has to control everything.”

You try to mask your scoff. You know what he can be like when you’re working beside him.

“Oh, and the guy has no sense of humour,” Hyungmin laughs, the sound easy on the ears.

You blink.

“I think he’s funny,” you say quickly. You swear you have no idea why you sound so defensive.

He hums in response and you consider biting your tongue, telling him you’re only here for one thing and forgetting the uncomfortable churning of feelings inside your chest.

“Forget I- I’m a little confused today.”

Is that an acceptable explanation? You can’t think straight enough to decide. The silence on Hyungmin’s part, however, worries you. The crowd around you fills in for the next few moments as your companion seems to debate something with himself.

“Look, I know you and Doyoung are… I don’t know, something.”

You huff in irked amusement. “God, does everyone seem to know?”

“Not until late actually.” Hyungmin takes a gulp. “He’s been acting weird. Doyoung.”

You look away, breathing shallow. You don’t like it, the way things seem to be getting out of hand. All this time, the world seemed to be in the palm of your hand and now, it’s spilling everywhere; the sand in the hourglass is already up to your knees and you don’t know what happens when it fills.

“Do you actually like him?” he asks, leaning back just a little. You know where this is going. “Are you guys dating?”

“No,” you respond, checking your watch.

“Oh.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation in him but you’ve seen that look before. You know that look.

“Then we can- uh- we can—”

“Fuck?” you ask.

He gulps. “I mean, you can say no any time—”

You pull him by the collar and kiss him, hard enough to melt away your hovering thoughts. He kisses like you expect him to, not how you want him to. You know this sort, and somehow, that makes you feel comfortable. Knowing what you’re getting into is easing but it doesn’t lessen the weight of it.

It’s sickening. The way you’re pretending it’s Doyoung.

Hyungmin pulls apart, panting heavily. “Oh, okay.”

“Tell me you drove here.”

He holds up his car keys in response.

You’re not the type to sleep with strange (semi-acquainted) men, but it’s better than falling in love with them.

So you follow a lover to a hotel room and try to feel something. Some time, when he’s kissing you against the hotel room walls, he pulls apart and asks, “You’re thinking of someone else, aren’t you?”

You know the answer; it just won’t leave your lips.

“It’s okay,” he says with a weak smile, “Let’s just have fun.”

And every time his mouth was on yours, every time you saw stars, you felt the ghost of Doyoung and his haunting touches. It was strange and unfair and unlike you—or at least, unlike the you that you built over the past few years. You feel as though you’ve misplaced something—like something was supposed to be there when you reached out but instead, it was empty space.

The night ends as it should and you leave right before dawn with an apology text you couldn’t put half your heart into.

Most winter nights, you wake up with pain so profound, it’s seeping into your bones.

It never made sense. You never tried to make sense of it. So you let the aches push you down by the shoulders, lodge itself into your neck and back; and you tell yourself, it must be what you deserve. It’s cold and you’re walking barefoot on frozen ground.

You gasp. The weight of who you are and who you have to be—it has its knee on the back of your neck, shoving you into the damp earth. There’s no particular reason to it; it makes it seem as though it’s insignificant. Unimportant. Irrelevant. But that’s the problem—the weight of the world on your shoulders makes no sense. Whose world are you even carrying? Whose approval are you trying to win? You scramble to get up, messing up your bedsheets in the process, and pull your blanket around you. Your own warmth surrounds you and it makes no difference. You frown.

You remember your phone call with your mom, and your lips tremble. You shouldn’t have told her about how crappy your finals went but it slipped. You tried to explain that you did work for them, that you gave it your best but sometimes things don’t work out. She didn’t have to say it out loud for you to hear her thoughts.

You’re disappointing.

You wipe at your eyes, feeling annoyed at the emotion. If you could let the ground swallow you whole, you would. In a heartbeat. You don’t even know what you’re doing most of the days despite that pretty planner of yours.

You get out of bed, pull on your cardigan beside the bed and grab your lighter and pack. The tiny balcony makes for a great smoking spot and while you would scold any of your friends for committing to this, you do it yourself. Hypocrite.

For all you try to shove into yourself—hobbies, student clubs, actual clubbing, friends—the more you feel less than enough, as if everything just vanishes into thin air inside you. As if you aren’t enough and never will be. You play by the rules and you lose, you break the rules and you lose.

Maybe it’s because you let yourself be filled by the intricacies of other people that they like you. And thus, you cannot stop for fear of loneliness.

Just as you’re feeling crushed again, you picture Doyoung against your back, placing his nose in the crook of your neck—something he has never done—and you wonder why it helps.

Sucking in air too fast, you cough. You shouldn’t have let it go on for so long.

It was fun—harmless fun. You shouldn’t even be thinking of taking a step in some other direction. You’re friends, barely, but you like where you are. If Doyoung was that important, you wouldn’t be going about this all backwards. You sigh, though it comes out jagged. The room is quiet and that’s the way it should be at four a.m, of course, but you crave music all of a sudden. Doyoung and you are just a temporary fix; and you let that thought relax you.

When you think of his chin on your shoulder, however, it feels feather light.

“Why are we doing this?” you ask.

The atmosphere is warm and toasty, just like you expect it to be in a bakery with light pink doors and a collection of plastic potted plants on display. The decorations aren’t an eyesore here and somehow, it makes you feel better. It’s a little far but you decide it’s worth it.

Doyoung shrugs, sipping his hot chocolate. “It’s Christmas, and we’re both here.”

Your eyes follow the hanging lights over the counter, wrapped in pine tree stickers and eventually to the neat display of a ‘Season’s Greetings’ menu, the contents of which are currently at your table. A Christmas song by some singer who’s been popular lately plays, tunes light and dancing. You hate the end of the year solely because of the extra pressure January brings. Nothing you can’t handle, of course. Nothing you can’t handle.

You sigh. It’s been a little difficult lately.

“Doyoung, really, why are we doing this?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Are you- uh- are you not enjoying this? I could—”

“No! No, it’s not that. I feel better, actually.” You bite your tongue almost immediately after. It’s not like he’s supposed to know the sort of hell week you’re having. A poorly received term paper, finals that weren’t up to your expectations, crippling loneliness without friends and, oh, the self-doubt—you are at the lowest you can be in college. The only sweetener right now is in the hot chocolate and the way Doyoung’s looking at you.

You feel something close to guilt.

“Good.” He smiles. “You seemed… You seemed a little down.”

The sliver of warmth between your ribs makes you think this is unreal. It feels uneasy to be so affected by someone but you let it slide, turning back to your hot chocolate.

“Why didn’t you go home this time?” you ask, sipping your drink.

“Oh, I didn't really want to face my parents,” he says before leaning. “Didn’t do too well this semester. And my brother’s going to be there with all his achievements.”

You chuckle in disbelief. “You don’t like your brother?”

“I love him to bits. Just can’t stand my mom’s nagging when he’s around.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” You cross your arms, smiling triumphantly. You feel like children squabbling but it’s so lighthearted, you want to laugh.

Doyoung raises a pointed finger, about to retort but nothing comes out. He puts his hand down.

“I guess you’re right.”

You shake your head. “I’m sure she’s proud of you too.”

“I know that,” he says, laughing. “Of course she is. I don’t keep myself busy for nothing.”

You gulp, a sudden sourness rising at the base of your tongue.

“Busy, huh? Didn’t know spending saturday evenings with girls also counted as busy,” you mutter against the cup, half-hoping he doesn’t hear you.

“What?” There’s a perplexed look across his face.

You wave your hand in dismissal. “Oh don’t mind me.”

“Are you talking about me giving a tour to the fresher girls?” Doyoung leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Hyungmin does that usually but Mr Man was sore from soccer practice and Friday fucking.”

You blink. “Fresher… girls?”

“What, did you think I was at a brothel?” Doyoung laughs in amusement.

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “No! No, of course not.”

You wave your hands about for a few more seconds, trying to come up with an explanation. This makes things rather embarrassing.

“Sorry,” you say finally. “I jumped to conclusions.”

Doyoung laughs, rather deep and heartily, and you wonder if your apology really did sound as stupid to him as it did to you.

“You do that a lot,” he notes.

“Thanks,” you quip, cutting the pastry with your fork a little too forcefully. His laugh follows. (You hate it so much. It sounds like pure adoration.)

The next few moments consist of scrolling through your phones (because Doyoung says his ‘mouth hurts from talking to you’) and you would’ve been in a better state of mind if everyone wasn’t posting pre-Christmas photos with their families.

“You know they’re opening that park. What’s it called- Winter Wonderland or something. You said you wanted to visit.”

You look up at Doyoung amused.

“Let’s be honest. You want to be in bed, Doyoung,” you say. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I care,” he answers, looking at you with his doe eyes. “About you. You sulk when you’re upset.”

“I don’t sulk,” you reply but your smile is obvious when you exit the cafe.

It’s like a date. The more you think of it that way, the more it makes you smile.

The evening is perfect—orange and pink and loving and happy. Doyoung trails behind you as you tread over the sidewalk with cheeky remarks about his speed.

“I’m in the track club, you know?” he huffs, finally tired of your jabs.

“As what, the start point?”

A fake, sarcastic laugh leaves him. “I wouldn’t get to see you if I walked ahead.”

You feel warmth creep up your face. You mumble, “that’s cheesy.” It’s too weak though, and it goes unheard.

For the first time, you notice his eyes are a little like yours in what they reflect. You love them.

So this is where the crowd went. The amusement park, or whatever you call it, is buzzing with a faint sort of excitement, mostly in the children that didn’t get to go on a vacation elsewhere. It’s quite the wonderland though so you can’t see them complaining.

“Do you think they’ll kick us out if we make out on the Ferris wheel?” you ask, smiling at Doyoung.

“I’m not making out with you on the Ferris wheel,” he replies, making a face.

You do end up making out on the Ferris wheel, and you get butterflies from it. It’s like a teenage dream but Doyoung looks even better. You pass on the cotton candy because frankly, you’ve had enough of sweet things. You sit at the frozen wooden seat, hoping it warms up while Doyoung brings the two of you some fries.

Your phone buzzes with a notification. Your eyes light up at the mail from your professor. You had turned in the term paper three days ago, weeks ahead of schedule and were particularly proud of the way it turned out.

You look at the email and zero in on the word ‘redo’.

Your shoulders sag immediately. You spent four weeks on that—and it’s not good enough? You search frantically for how it could have gone wrong and come up with none. That’s not supposed to happen. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong. The week’s exhaustion swallows you up again.

When Doyoung returns, he looks at you concerned before quickly setting the fries on the table.

“(name). Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” Your voice sounds so weak and squeaky, you feel embarrassed. It’s embarrassing that after all these years, you still don’t know how to handle failure.

Because it’s not supposed to happen. You tell yourself that over and over and it makes things worse.

You feel dirty, underneath all that dust and crumbled rock dangling in your hair. Whatever rests on your shoulders is cracking and collapsing, and you’re pushing in the wrong direction to make sure it all stays up.

He reaches out his hand but you avoid it.

“No,” you mutter, weakly shaking your head.

You rub at your nose and eyes, hoping you can hide behind your forearms. Doyoung shouldn’t be seeing you like this, he doesn’t deserve to see you like this. You turn away from him, your palm gently pushing against the soft material of his shirt.

Doyoung doesn’t move. Instead, he gently tugs on your wrist so you have no choice but to face him with your red-rimmed eyes. You’re not sure if it’s embarrassment or pity, but the concern in his eyes makes you cry harder.

“You don’t have to do that,” he whispers. “You don’t have to find a place to cry.”

For the first time in adulthood, you learn what it’s like to lean your forehead against someone’s chest this way. Doyoung wraps his arms around you and the sound of his breathing soothes your near-erratic heart.

“I worked really hard on it, you know?” you mumble against his chest. “My term paper.”

“I know,” he whispers.

Doyoung strokes your head delicately, fingers running through your hair with airy touches. Eventually, you let go of a final sigh and look up to his lips.

He seems surprised at the kiss but it’s all you can think of now. It’s gentler than usual and Doyoung moves cautiously though he seems to like it all the same. His arms feel comfortable around you. When he pulls apart, he looks at you yet still with careful concern.

“We can- we should stop if you want,” he says, and he means it.

You shake your head. Night is creeping in overhead, deep and quiet and slow.

“I like you, Doyoung,” you say finally. “I really, really like you.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen, as though a rabbit wary of the traps it might set foot on but he eases into your touch almost immediately.

“I like… I like you too.” His lips waver but he looks away and takes a deep breath. “I like you so much.”

You smile and think that maybe everything is set right now, with his chin against your shoulder and your arms around him.

Doyoung discards the jacket once you’re in your apartment, kissing you fuller now. Every other thought leaves you; you beg him to make you forget the rest of the world. The walls are comforting now that he’s here, and it’s warmer, hotter.

“Can we- Can we go a little slower?” you mumble, his arms still gentle when they wrap around your waist. He parts his lips from your neck to look at you momentarily before nodding.

You suddenly understand why he always makes you feel so good. There’s a certain fondness to his touch and warmth to his kisses. There’s no one quite like him, really.

“I love digging graves, especially if it’s my own,” you mutter against the pillow.

Doyoung laughs. “What did you do this time?”

“This time? Excuse me? Do you think I’m some sort of trouble child?”

“Hm. Let’s see. Yes.”

You pause. Why do you hesitate to tell him you slept with Hyungmin? It’s not like you were cheating—you weren’t dating Doyoung. Besides, that night with Hyungmin didn’t mean anything. A horrid feeling snakes around your throat, heavy and piercing. You resort to changing the topic.

“I’m… I took another course beyond my understanding.”

“That’s it?” he asks.

You nod.

No, no, no; it’s all backwards now and you don’t know how to reverse it.

Doyoung takes your hand in his, delicately and yet firm. His chest is against your back, bare and warm. When he presses his lips against your knuckles, the warmth that flushes through you makes you want to believe in something else entirely. You feel weak.

A part of you argues that you feel honest—in a moment of clarity you don’t think you deserve. Neither vodka nor whiskey can make you this clear in the head; you struggle to breathe straight. How awful it is to feel warmth and not believe in it at the same time.

“You can rely on me, you know?” he whispers.

The knot in your chest makes you want to cry.

You feel lonely and the opposite of it all at once. Doyoung is too much for you—too kind, too pretty and too true. He makes you realize too many things at once.

There are a few things in the world that can stifle loneliness. Like the notes Doyoung plays on the piano, like the songs he hums in the morning till you place open-mouthed kisses against his neck.

You realize, all of a sudden, that Doyoung really is your dearest friend.

And yet, you don’t think you deserve it. You’ve never loved, you believe, but you have. You don’t remember it well enough. The lovers’ touches you kept searching for led to this. Hypocrite. You wanted a lover’s touch and you rejected the love that came with it. What a complicated bundle of emotions. You weren’t always this way.

You loved your first cat when you were six, all the way till it died a warm death in your bed. You loved your mother even when she yelled at you for skipping your chores. You loved your middle school friends when you talked about comics and movies you saw for the first time.

It’s hard to love the same way now.

You suppose sympathy needs a little backstory. Nothing is unconditional.

It had all started when your heart had broken into two clean pieces. You put a bandaid on it and called it a day. No one taught you to ask for help.

Your friends know someone broke your heart; you tell them everything. Friends, friends—you wanted them so bad and yet, you keep them as far from you as you can. You pretend to be paper-thin and so shallow, sometimes you wonder if that’s all there is to you. But for all they know, they know next to nothing. It wasn’t just the aftermath of reckless puppy love.

The first time your heart broke, it was watching your mother cry in the living room for a reason you didn’t understand. You wondered who committed the crime, who should be charged—and you found no one. A loveless marriage is cruel, yes, but you cannot point fingers. It isn’t just cruel; it’s infuriating.

The second time, the two pieces of your heart broke into a few more. It was a boy with an inviting smile and flags whose colour you couldn’t quite discern. They must have been red, but everything else was too—hearts, cheeks, lips, and the threads around your wrists. And eventually, he guided you to the conclusion that you are undeserving, unworthy, unloved.

You were strong, however. It was easy to collapse on the bed and feel the weight of the world settling in, but you stood up again on shaking knees and you told yourself to have fun; you can have fun without feelings. You know better than to attach meaning to fun—you might hate insignificant things but it’s only fun if it’s pointless. You’re not letting go of this place you’ve worked so hard to arrive at, with all the shattered pieces in your hands.

It’s better to offer nothing at all than offer broken pieces.

“Can we stay like this?” Doyoung’s arms tighten around your waist, his breath shallow against your shoulder. “Just for a little bit.”

His voice is beautiful as always, but for a moment, it strikes you as sad.

Everything’s twisting up into knots and you are frantically running your fingers over them to straighten it all out. You know what it’s like to let things rot; and you are tired of it. Why can’t everything disappear for one moment? Why can’t you just let it be the two of you?

You sigh in response, nodding.

“I might not know what’s happening in there,” he starts, drawing circles on your chest with his finger, touch comfortably light. “But…”

I’m here and I get it.

Is that what he wants to say? You don’t think you’ll get to know. You’re not exactly voicing yourself either.

Stay the night. You want to say it but your lips are frozen.

Instead, you rub your thumb over the back of his hand, fitting into each other as perfect as a lie. You would tell him, you try to convince yourself, if you could say it with enough conviction. There’s no point to saying things that are half-meant, that are true but only just enough. You’re a coward.

And now, this has gotten complicated.

An end.

Tapping his pen against the desk, Doyoung grows increasingly annoyed. The council's next meeting agenda isn’t going to finish writing itself but he can’t bring himself to either. Besides, Ten’s pacing outside his room is starting to get on his nerves.

“Ten!” he yells. “Can you quit it? You’re making too much noise.”

His disapproval is met with silence. For a moment, he spaces out and reflexively thinks of you, only to feel a confusing sort of emotion. It’s normal, he tells himself, and that it’ll sort itself out.

Doyoung feels like a glass box more often than not. If he breaks, who picks up the pieces? Who gets cuts all over their fingers?

‘Whoever breaks him’ should be the answer. But that’s wishful thinking. It’s not that simple.

He’s so see-through that it’s painful. He used to tell Taeyong he’s wrong but he’s never been able to prove it. He is easy. It’s embarrassing.

But then again, part of him likes it when it comes to you. He likes it when you kiss him after a particularly heated disagreement, he likes when you get on his nerves just so he’d fuck you and most of all, he loves the push and pull. Fun is just that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if that heart of his he placed so gingerly into your palms falls and shatters.

The line between hate and love is thin; and he’s enjoying walking it too much.

He has nothing to offer but himself. He laughs at the thought and shakes his head. It’s somewhat dirty, and not just in the sexual sense.

“Ten!” he yells again. “Stop pacing!”

Getting up from his seat, he strides over to his door, swings it open and finds Ten scratching his head and glancing at his phone in repeated action.

“Ten?”

He’s so in a trance that he hasn’t noticed Doyoung. He is the lovable sort of idiot if he ever chooses to be so. Most of the time though, he’s just a smartass.

“Oh, oh no, I’m a bad friend,” Ten mutters to himself, his pacing growing more restless. He scratches the back of his head, eyebrows furrowed and too inside his head to notice Doyoung. He wants to ask but something tells him he shouldn’t.

Turns out, his apprehension isn’t strong enough these days.

“Whose date did you crash?” Doyoung asks, more than annoyed already.

When Ten looks at him, Doyoung feels rather shriveled and freezes on the spot. Call it instinct but Doyoung respects fear and pain. Ten has a mixture of the two, amplified when he looks at Doyoung.

“Doyoung. Hey,” he says, trying to tone down the distress in his voice.

Doyoung still hasn’t recovered from the initial surprise of Ten looking that way.

“Did you fuck up? Did someone fuck up? Why do you look like that?”

Ten sits down on the small couch. “Long story… I guess. Too many details, you- you know? Just—”

“What the fuck happened?”

Ten still can’t look him in the eye. “The group chat’s a little…”

“Ten,” Doyoung snaps. “Cut the crap.”

“No, that’s- that’s what I’m- You’re going to be upset.”

Doyoung straightens, furrowing his brows. “I think I can fucking handle it.”

“You know that date I set up for (name) and Hyungmin?”

“You set that up?”

“(name) slept with Hyungmin.”

Doyoung quietens. The silence seems to make Ten uncomfortable as he shifts in his seat, getting up when Doyoung speaks.

“So?”

Ten blinks. “You’re not upset?”

“Just what kind of loser do you think I am?” Doyoung mutters.

Glass shatters just that easily. Maybe he wanted you to shatter him. Maybe he was already cracking at the edges.

“Doyoung, you don’t have to—”

“Stop,” he exclaims a little louder than he intended. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m a grown man, I can handle shit like this.”

It still hurts though. You lied to him and he let you in. You lied to him. Doyoung sighs, returning to his room with a realization he should have had long ago. His night ends with more deleted drafts than he��s supposed to have and eventually, with increased discomfort, he delegates the job to Park Hyungmin himself with the excuse of sickness.

Doyoung does feel sick. He felt this way once, in highschool, but it had turned to red, hot anger ready to lash at anyone and everyone, spilling from his lips as easy as it was to breathe. And Doyoung can never feel that way towards you. He was different back then too, of course, but you—you’re unlike anyone he’s ever met. He loves the comfort of you, and something like that is hard to come by.

He feels like laughing again but instead he finds tears on his cheeks. Silly boy, he can hear his mother tell him. You don’t give your heart to heartbreakers.

So Doyoung falls asleep to the sound of upbeat music in his earphones, music he hates even just to pass the night. Morning will come and he will have to become stronger. Comfort is fleeting, after all.

With everything said and done, you know very well that if you were to tell someone you love them—genuinely, truly, from the heart—it would be Doyoung. It’s not a sudden realization, like the sky falling apart or a tidal wave crashing against the shore and sweeping away the city. It is like the gentle lapping of water, though, or the way the clouds change shape—natural and anything but alarming. You want to stare at it forever, and you want to believe that’s how it will be forever.

“You told everyone we had sex?” Your voice is boiled to a shout.

Hyungmin looks torn, lips moving but no explanation making its way out. “I- I told my friends, not everyone.”

“And you forgot that your friends talk? Everybody talks, Hyungmin, what were you thinking?”

He sighs before taking a step towards you. “Why are you so angry about it? As far as I remember, you had no trouble talking about whose pants you got into.”

You scoff. “With friends, not the whole campus.”

“That’s exactly what I did!”

You cross your arms, feeling so upset you might cry and unsure as to why. You’re usually good at dealing with stuff like this, keeping things in the right place.

“It’s because of Doyoung, isn’t it?”

You snap your head to Hyungmin. There’s a serene sort of look to him despite his unkempt appearance, and a look of understanding.

“I’m sorry. Really. But if you were so into him, you shouldn’t have called me that evening. It might not matter to me but…”

You broke his heart. All that devotion he had towards you led to this.

“You’re right.” You choke on your words, leaning against the wall. “Fuck… Fucking…”

You turn around, making your way out of the hallway and hope the tears on your cheeks dry faster if you run.

You can’t remember the last time you ran. Your world didn’t need running from, it was right in the palm of your hands. Now that you look back, the world was always on your shoulders and heavy as it can be. Maybe you liked it—the weight. You could’ve shrugged it off any time; you didn’t need all those caging schedules or careful, elegant steps.

No. Atlas couldn’t shrug because his punishment was his existence. To have weight is to have meaning; and that is how you intended to live out your life.

Doyoung makes you see it differently. To love so fully even if it seems cautious—you, who has never loved at all, couldn’t comprehend it. And because he makes you see it differently, the box is now open and all hell is loose.

For once, you don’t want to live in the world you crafted. You want more love, more hurt and you want to open the doors. You don’t mind hell if it’s for him.

You ring the bell to Doyoung and Ten’s apartment and pray the news hasn’t reached him yet. He said he was busy this weekend; maybe he was detached enough from his phone for once. You just want to be the person to tell him. It’s not a perfect apology otherwise.

Doyoung opens the door with pursed lips and cold eyes. There’s a sense of ease over his shoulders and arms but he won’t look at you and panic rises to your throat.

“We’re not fucking tonight, (name),” he says.

“That’s not- That’s not why I’m here.” Your voice is so meek, you wonder what happened.

Doyoung steps back, crossing his arms. He’s still looking at his feet and you feel the urge to reach for his face.

“I wanted to tell you- I… I just—”

“That you’re fucking other people?”

“God, Doyoung, stop with the fucking. I don’t care about that right now.”

“Really?” His voice is so sharp, it digs into your skin. “You were just in it for that. That’s the fun part in your stupid life, isn’t it?”

You feel a sharp pain in your nose and forehead. “You’re- Now that’s- Doyoung. I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to say.”

“After—” His voice chokes up. “After everything is done? Stop with the excuses and face it for fuck’s sake. You aren’t made to fall in love. That’s why you dance around it all the time.”

Although he says that, he doesn’t sound angry. He sounds defeated.

“It’s not like you aren’t cautious,” you retort, throat feeling heavy. “You said it yourself- you don’t want to care too much.”

“I was wrong,” he says, voice hoarse. “I care about everything more than I’d like to admit. I care about you more than I’d like to admit.”

“The Hyungmin thing didn’t mean anything, okay? You were busy and—”

“So why did you lie?” He strains to not raise his voice. “Of course I knew our little thing didn’t mean shit to you. Why did you pretend it did? Last week, you said- you said—”

“Doyoung, last week- last week I- I wasn’t pretending, I swear.”

“You could’ve just saved yourself the trouble and the dignity.” A short, humorless laugh leaves him.

You feel your lips tremble, the explanation not quite made its way out yet. He looks so innocent like this, rabbit-like eyes watery and full of pain, pure the way they have always been. This is your mistake, isn’t it?

“Doyoung, please,” you manage to say. “That was wrong. I couldn’t clear up my head. Please don’t—”

“No. I was an idiot. Or you see me as one.” He frowns deeper, lips trembling. “I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have. We shouldn’t have been at the same fucking party and I shouldn’t have drank so much. You’re- I’m not that kind of person.”

You bite down your lip. “What kind?”

Doyoung laughs, the sound raspy and empty. “The kind to not fall in love with you.”

It damn near breaks your heart to look at him. You have to say something, it shouldn’t end like this. You’re desperate and all you think is that you don’t want it to end at all.

“Please, I thought of you as a friend, that’s why—”

“And this is what you call being a friend?” he cuts you off.

You feel the sting in your eyes and nose, making you turn sharply to the side. You wish he’d just make you cry. It makes you feel the rancid guilt all the more.

“Make Hyungmin your friend for all I care. Let’s stop this.”

You stare at your feet, unable to respond.

“You can have every boy in the world, (name). Don’t come to me.”

“Can you just stop talking about everyone else?” you yell, desperate. “Do I talk about your exes? Seungjae or- or what’s-her-name—”

“That’s different!” He looks distraught, breathing heavily and with a painful red flush over his nose and cheeks. He runs his hand through his hair, tousling it further. “You lied to me, (name). You lied.”

Your cheeks are wet and the look that flashes over Doyoung makes you think he wants to step right out to you. He stays frozen in place, however, looking away to the side.

“Did you notice?” he asks softly. “Even once? How much I cared?”

You can’t answer, letting the tears drip down your face. It’s getting colder and colder.

Doyoung bites down his lip before parting them. “All we did was have sex anyway. So please just- just leave.”

You take a long few moments but nod, hugging your coat closer and stepping out of his apartment. You think you hear Ten’s footsteps but it’s followed by the bang of a door—this is how it ends then.

The line between hate and love is thin; and you are deserving of neither.

You perfect your next semester’s academics, and the next. It still feels empty. You go out to drink with friends and return to a messy bed you sleep in alone. You smile as always and you laugh as always. No one asks you how you are as always. You never needed anyone to ask you how you are.

Ten tries but you push him away. You don’t need to drag in other people into a mess you made. He feels sorry for the whole thing but you tell him it was you that spilled the paint, Ten just handed a dash of it to you.

You were right. You don’t deserve Doyoung. At least, you made it so that you don’t deserve him.

‘It’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all’—it still hurts.

Every day is part of a list again. You doodled in some of the pages, when you thought you were starting to fall in love. There’s only a skeleton of it left now. Soon, you’ll let it crumble to dust too.

You tear apart the planner sometime after graduation and cry and curse at yourself for doing that. No one’s good at parting with things they care about. You’re no exception.

It’s December again.

This place is a little strange to visit right after graduating, especially with the memories flashing you by. Johnny said he booked one of the private booths (“A senior’s treat!”) but you feel your steps growing hesitant when you reach the neon signs by the stairs. It spells ‘The Meeting Place’ and smells of cigarettes just like it did the first time.

You stop midway up the stairs. For a moment, you think of Doyoung sitting there and wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. If you had the chance now, would you take it?

Of course, you wouldn’t. There’s too much to be set right and you can’t do it.

There’s supposed to be the six of you. Johnny mentioned Ten and you know Eunji’s invited too. You saw Jaehyun on the way here, still a student. You sigh. It must be him, the one they failed to mention to you. Kim Doyoung. There’s no one quite like him.

You spot him first. Looking a little forlorn as he gazes absentmindedly to the side, he faces away from you and you get the inevitable urge to run away. It’s a funny feeling.

Your stomach is churning. You don’t want him to see you. Ten babbles on about something to Johnny, smiling like he found candy while clearing his drawers. Eunji looks tired, leaning against Johnny’s shoulder and you wonder if she already drank more than enough shots.

“(name).”

You jump at Jaehyun’s voice from behind you.

“Hey,” you respond, giving him a wide smile.

He hesitates. “Are you okay? Not that you don’t look okay- you look really good actually. I mean, are you and… you know okay?”

“I don’t think so, Jaehyun,” you say and make your way to the booth.

It’s a little cramped for the six of you and Doyoung gets up before you can even greet him. It’s not like you deserve it anyway but it tugs at the wound.

“I’m going to go take a drag,” he mutters.

“You don’t smoke,” you say, looking up.

He stares at you momentarily and you look away. You think Ten and Johnny glance at you with pity but you don’t really care.

“Can I come with you?” you ask, barely a whisper.

“Sure,” he says, to your surprise.

The smoking area is so small, you’re surprised it’s even there. A glass structure overlooking the neighbourhood, there’s barely any light within. The only thing nice is how warm it’s in there.

Doyoung lights his cigarette and then offers to light yours. It’s quiet, the music from inside numbed to the cold doors. You really can’t take it. You stub the barely consumed cigarette and throw it into the bin.

You’d rather just stay quietly in his presence.

“You’re not smoking,” he notes.

“It’s a bad habit.” You look out through the glass.

Doyoung chuckles. “You were a collection of bad habits.”

“And good ones too,” you quip. “I was a perfect student. I was perfect in most everything actually.”

Doyoung’s smile widens. “You were. You certainly were.”

A few more moments pass in silence, your eyes traveling over the outside scenery which seems to be growing duller by the second. City lights have never felt fainter.

“It was an accident, right?” You say suddenly. “The whole thing? Us?”

Doyoung hums. “Yeah. I fell in love by accident.”

You smile weakly. “Right. I never got to apologize.”

“I loved you on purpose.”

You look up at him. There’s not a lot of people who say what they mean. He looks the same as he used to under your grey blankets, with a warm blush over his cheeks and kind, wide eyes.

“You’re so damn pretty,” he murmurs, “even now.”

You scan his face for signs of lying.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” you ask finally.

Doyoung blinks before easing into laughter. “You- You’re- You’re the same as ever.”

You let yourself crack a smile.

“Doyoung I- I really am sorry,” you say quietly. “And I did- do care for you.”

Doyoung stubs out his cigarette and discards it before looking you in the eye. You notice he’s wearing his favourite black turtleneck in the proximity, the grey plaid coat covering most of it. You really liked that look on him.

“I’m sorry,” you say once again. “I want you to know that. I didn’t want to hurt you and I promise I won’t ever do it again.”

You mean it. You’re never going to hold glass again. He doesn’t deserve it.

“That’s a problem,” he responds, breath mingling with yours. “I want you… I want you to hurt me. If you really do love me, I’ll take it.”

“Doyoung,” you whisper, turning away despite your whole body screaming at you to give in. “I meant it. I can’t hurt you.”

Doyoung cups your cheek with one hand, glancing at your lips for a moment.

“You’re warm,” he says.

He’s warmer.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You want to kiss him too.

“We went about this all wrong, didn’t we?” he asks.

“We did,” you answer, voice barely above a whisper. “I did.”

Doyoung pulls back. “Then let’s start again. I’m Kim Doyoung, I majored in linguistics. I was student council president and I made a mistake.”

You smile. “We don’t have to do that.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “After all the trouble I went through to make a good introduction?”

The two of you laugh, and it gets warmer.

“I’m (name),” you say. “I was a top student and I made a bigger mistake, Kim Doyoung.”

“Oh? I wonder what it was.”

“Kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got all the time for you.”

You smile and start. He responds with gentle kisses. You’re piecing your world back together again; but this time it’s feather-light and fits right in the palm of your hand.

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