#zerobaseone suggestive

[gluion]

02:48 ➵ park gunwook

park gunwook x reader

you’re set on playing some more games of valorant, and gunwook is trying to change your mind.

general genre/warnings ➵ established relationship, fluff, suggestive, lots of kissing, hickey moment…, valorant mention

word count ➵ 800 words

a/n ➵ happy birthday @shegotthewoobies <3 ily and i hope you like this drabble :DD if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog & leave feedback!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

gunwook wishes he isn’t the needy type. the one who can handle the distance. the one who can keep his hands to himself. the one who can fall asleep without you by his side. he hopes he can be the one to fulfill your every request, regardless of the hours or miles it may take.

he likes to think he’s made for you, but the reality is that he needs you.

before gunwook left for work, he promised you a few matches of valorant. his busy schedule didn’t give you two enough time in the day to spend with each other. all you had were hours made for sleep. although you understood gunwook’s schedule, only wanting him to rest before another day filled with work, he couldn’t share the same sentiments as you. all he wants is to be around you; intertwine fingers, and graze his lips over the expanse of your skin. despite your protests, it all falls on deaf ears as he cuts you off with a single kiss before taking his leave.

yet, work is spontaneous. he’ll never know if it’ll be a day where he waits for hours to pass by or to chase them.

gunwook tried to conceal his fatigue, peppering your face with kisses before telling you he’ll shower before he hops on the game. despite your worried eyes, he leads you to your chair before making his way to the washroom.

although he was tired from today’s work, he enjoyed the few matches he got to play. regardless of taerae’s trashtalk, matthew’s missed shots, and taerae’s partner’s whines, his stress levels subsided—all thanks to you. still, he couldn’t fight off the exhaustion.

“hey, i think i’m done for today,” gunwook says, earning a series of groans.

“no! we can’t end here. i mean, we can’t end on a loss!” regardless of taerae’s attempt to make him stay, he already closed the game. 

“bye guys.” he doesn’t wait for another word to leave his friends before he drops the discord call. as he looks over to his right, he sees your screen is on the lobby. he stands up from his seat, expecting you to take your leave until you pull out your phone. 

“hey, let him go to sleep. i’m down to play some unrated. but if you guys find someone else to fill, i’m also up for more ranked matches.”

gunwook can’t help but pout. he should’ve known that you would play a few more games. after all, you’d always try to find time in the day to play. yet, he wishes you could read the words in between his farewell—hey, let’s go to sleep.

a hum leaves you. “okay, let me try to ask my friend if they want to play.”

for a moment, gunwook considers going to bed, leaving you one kiss before you can continue playing. this is your time to destress. but his feet take him to where you are and his hand quickly reaches for your mouse so that he can mute your microphone.

you move your headphones to the side. “hey, what are you—”

his arms find their spot around your waist. “baby,” his whine has you holding your breath, “can’t you play some more games tomorrow? i missed you.”

“gunwook,” a shy giggle leaves your lips, “i’ll just play one or two more games. i’m pretty sure matthew and taerae are trying to find someone to fill.”

then, he nestles his face into your neck. while his nose grazes your skin, you let out a quiet exhale. but the moment you feel his lips, your eyes shut close. out of instinct. out of comfort. out of desire.

“c’mon, i’m sure they’ll understand.” his lips continue to cover every inch of your neck as his hands sneak under your shirt, fingers drawing shapes on your hips. gunwook’s persuasion is hard to ignore.

feigning ignorance, you say, “but i won’t get to play tomorrow. just one game.”

he musters a sigh and you think you won the battle, until his lips latch onto your neck. blunt teeth scratch against your skin as his tongue darts out, sucking in the spot. a soft moan leaves you as you throw your head back.

taerae’s shouts leak out of your headphones but you have no interest in hearing what he has to say.

gunwook’s lips leave you and you try to steady your breathing. you hate his effect on you. “c’mon, let’s go to bed.”

you need a few seconds before you swallow your shame. “to sleep?”

he giggles before he pulls back, allowing you to meet his gaze. “depends if you’ll quit valorant now or later.” and when you spot the smirk that rests on his lips, you don’t think twice about disconnecting from the call without saying goodbye.

taglist: @kflixnet @blankjournal

[aebinspa]

it's a game i always lose

PAIRING: hanbin x y/n reader

GENRES: fluff, suggestive in the end, boyfriend!hanbin, gyuvin is reader's brother, reader is sooo sleepy but not enough for not to consider her boyfriend, they are in a secret relationship, sillies in love, kisses, hugs and...

WORD COUNT: 0.8k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! loving hanbin is not enough i have to write something about him so i don't fill my head with thoughts about him ahhh :/

Yet another night spent at the disco had reduced you to a rag: your makeup was running, your dress was starting to look too short after hours of dancing and to top it all off, you had had a few too many drinks. It was already half past three when your best friend's father - who had everyone in the car this evening - dropped you off at your front door.

You greeted all your friends with the little energy you had left, who reciprocated by rolling down the window, and, after trying to open the door several times, you managed to get in on the fourth try. The only illuminated area of the entrance was the living room located immediately on the left.

You almost had a shock seeing five men looking at you in total darkness, illuminated only by the light of the television on which the video game they were playing was still playing. “Oh god guys fuck it!” you jumped in the air as soon as you saw them. “Big sister,” Gyuvin began while munching on some chips, “I didn’t know you were coming back, you know, I thought you were staying at Isa’s. I invited the boys, sorry” It’s absurd that you and your girlfriend aren’t even able to communicate by text.

“Y/n, if you want there’s room to stay here with us” Hanbin said sweetly before moving some of the pillows they had thrown on the floor to make some space for you. Seeing him there with his red cheeks and the pajamas you had given him last Christmas had woken you up from the deep sleep that was about to give you the shot of alcohol in your blood.

If only you and Hanbin hadn’t been hiding your relationship—it would soon be a year—from all his friends and your brother Gyuvin, maybe by now you would have had the chance to throw yourself into his arms and ask him to take off your makeup while you begged him to come and warm up in bed with you.

But you were too tired so you refused shaking your head and apologizing to everyone before going up to your room and starting to take off everything you were wearing to jump in the shower and relax.

As soon as you got out of the shower, with only a towel on and your hair completely wet, you didn't immediately notice the figure sitting on your bed. What woke you up, once again, was the sweet laugh you heard, without first - as per ritual since you had met Gyuvin's friends - you jumped up in the air in fear.

"Hanbin!" "Sorry Y/n, next time I will seriously warn you" all seasoned with a giggle that made it clear what his true intentions were "What are you doing here? Where are the others?" "Everyone has gone back to their homes" You looked at him with an expression that made Hanbin understand well what you were about to ask him.

"Gyuvin knows, I told him a month ago" "Don't-" he grabbed you by the waist and forced you to sit on his knees. The sudden contact - and the knowledge that you were still completely naked under the towel - made you blush and, instinctively, you put your face in the hollow of his neck, inhaling a particularly pleasant scent.

“Gyuvin is calm, in fact, I don’t think he cares at all” “So I’ve been worrying about nothing?” “I would say so, Y/n.” “He's really too busy with Isa to care about me, apparently.” A huge smile formed on your lips.

“Hanbin” You stood up straight, so you could be face to face with him. “Tell me” “Where is Gyuvin?” “At Isa’s” You looked at him with a strange light in your eyes before kissing him rashly enough to surprise him, but Hanbin returned the kiss in a few moments, placing his hands on your waist.

“I'm sorry, you did all the work yourself. We were supposed to tell him together and instead…” “And instead I did what was right to do. I got a lecture from a boy younger than me and I promised him to always love you as if it were the last day”

You were both out of breath, it was four in the morning and the sheets were already unmade. “Hanbin” “Tell me, Y/n” Apparently the boy couldn’t stop tucking your wet hair behind your ears while you spoke. “How about we play a game?” Hanbin nodded without a second thought. “I'm hiding and if you can find me you can do whatever you want to me” Although Hanbin had laughed at the bizarre proposal, you felt his hands squeeze your hips even tighter.

"Hanbin, I'm under the sheets" “Oddly enough, it's a game where you always lose” “And strangely enough, you never manage to lose in this game.” That night you were both thankful that neither Gyuvin nor the boys were home.

[lovepookie]

₊˚ෆ No Presents - s.mt

♡ sypnosis: you and matthew agreed on no presents this year in order to save up to see his family for christmas next year. he has pestered you for a christmas tree, and now he won’t stop clinging to you because “it’s christmas, woman!” little does he know, you have a little gift up your sleeve.

♡ genre: fem!reader, teeth-rotting fluff, suggestive, established relationship, non-idol au, christmas centered, just wholesome shit lol

♡ 2.4k word count

♡ warnings: suggestive, sexual innuendos, playful threats, cursing, mentions of the catholic church as a joke, please let me know if there’s any you’d like me to add!

♡ nano note: the gyubin fic is doing so well! 🥹 so here 🤲🏻 have this matthew christmas fic!! matt makes me squeal so i just knew i needed a christmas au for him. sorry im late! xoxo

.♡.

“Matt! No not there!” You yelped out, the brightest smile on your face as you watched your boyfriend place the ugliest ornament he could find right smack center of the tree.

“What do you mean? I think it looks great.” he teased, grabbing you by your hips and urging you close to him.

He placed you in front of him as he stuffed his face in the crook of your neck, taking the scent of you in—you smelled like peppermint hot chocolate; it was his favorite for this time of year so naturally he prepared some for the two of you whilst you decorated the Christmas tree.

It was about the second week of December and you both had finally decided to put one up after a lot of back and forth bickering.

“But why not, Lady? It’s Christmas! We need a tree!” He’d wine out, pouting your way whilst his fingertips pulled you close. It was always within his nature; if you were ever near him, you’d naturally find his hands on you.

“We’re not even having presents this year, we don’t need one…” You’d counterattack over and over, but it just never seemed to suffice.

It was true. This year, you’d both agreed to no presents because you were saving up for a trip for the following year together. So why did you need a tree?

It all boiled down to this; Matthew was a brat.

A brat who had always gotten his way with you.

And now here you were, in fuzzy matching christmas socks, sliding across your tiled living room floor as he pulled you to dance.

“Stop! Matthew, you know I’ll kick you in the balls.” You threaten, the widest smile on your face as he tugged you closer with his firm grip, urging you to dance with him.

“What?? You’re so mean- were you even sorry for doing that on Halloween?” He wined out, a pout on his face as he grabbed you closer.

You laugh out, throwing your head back.

“That was an accident! And I was sorry, but you’re going to drop me right now!” You reason, strength weakening with giggles and rendering you helpless in fighting back. He laughs too this time, halting you two mid-spin in order to take a good look at you.

You watch as his eyes smile at you, the pretty mole near them framing his face in a way that should’ve hinted mischief to you the moment you met him. After a bout of silence, you un-grip his black muscle shirt from your grasp now that you were sure he wouldn’t spin you again.

“Look, all that fighting but the tree looks so pretty…” He says, head nodding to the tree you just finished setting up. You look over for a moment at the masterpiece your boyfriend wouldn’t shut up about until today.

“…it’s almost as pretty as you.” He says, sparking a blush to form from beneath your skin.

You roll your eyes as you playfully hit his chest, but he’s quick to catch your hands and pull you back against him.

“Stop fighting me, Miss—let me love you!” He laughs and he yells out, then leans in to press a kiss to your head.

As if your luck had expired, he slips slightly in the process and before you know it, you’re yelping out as you and Matthew go toppling down to the floor.

“Ah shit!” You gasp out in shock, one of Matthew’s hands cupping the back of your head so you wouldn’t get hurt. When you realize what happened, you can’t help but laugh, and then like clockwork, your eyes meet Matthew’s.

He’s hovering above you, eyes wide as he searches yours for any signs that you’re hurt.

“Are you alright?! Did you get hurt? I kind of fell on you, are you okay-“ He rambles out, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“Matthew I’m fine.” You chuckle, looking up at him. Yeah, he kind of did fall on top of you and knocked the air out of your lungs for a second, but you weren’t in any pain and the look of worry in his eyes was too good. You’d always told him if he kept fucking around he’d find out, and it seems he finally got a taste of the consequences for not listening to you.

“I’m sorry.” He says, a bashfull smile making its way onto his face—it’s cute, a little too cute actually. He stays exactly where he is though, never moving an inch over you, one hand still beneath your head. You chuckle and lift your head to make your way off the floor, but then Matthew uses that moment to now take both of his hands and encage you beneath him indefinitely.

“Aye- What are you doing?” You question, realizing your mobilization is limited to your boyfriends arms—it seems he is still on his bullshit. Matthew just smiles his ridiculously cute smile as he peers down at you before dipping down to do a push up.

His face comes eerily close to yours as he looks deep into your eyes.

Well, Merry Christmas indeed.

“I’ve always wanted to do this.” He mutters, before smiling at your blushy bothered state and lifting his body weight back up. You feel your face go hot and suddenly wish you hadn’t cranked the heater up like your boyfriend requested earlier—he just hated wearing actual clothes.

“Stop playing around Matt, let me out.” You say, giving him a look of warning. He smirks as he holds back a laugh and dips back down again.

“No. We don’t get presents this year so you can’t get out. Sorry.” He frowns playfully, before he’s placing a kiss on your chin. Within another second he’s lifting himself back up to complete a second push-up.

You glare up at him.

“Matthew, you want presents?” You ask, deciding that in order to combat mischief, you gotta get your hands dirty too. He perks up at your words for a second before he’s lowering himself again and kissing the tip of your nose.

“Of course I want presents, what’s Christmas without them?” He questions playfully, before he’s picking his weight back up again. You smirk up at him which must really alarm him because his face goes blank for a second before his eyes squint at you.

“Ayeee…are you thinking dirty thoughts right now?” He questions, peering down at you like he’s a father at the Catholic Church and very disappointed in what you may be insinuating. You can’t help but laugh and lean up to grab his face to squish.

You don’t know where he finds the strength to stay hovering there whilst you play with his cute cheeks and distort his face into a smile or the noot noot face—his lips puckering as you hold his cheeks together with one hand—but it’s impressive, you have to admit. You lean up and kiss his nose back, hoping secretly he never changes his very cute mannerisms for as long as he lives.

“What? Is this my present then?” He looks at you, trying to pout but a smile makes its way through instead. Your laugh resonates throughout the living room at his antics before you take this opportunity to slide out from underneath him hastily.

Almost instantly, Matthew’s protests can be heard as his tries to grab at your ankles to pull you back.

“Hey! That’s not fair, you escaped once my guard was down-“

“Matt! Will you please let me go, I’m trying to give you a present-!” You squeal as his hands trace up your leg and his strong grasp litteraly slides you back towards him and under his grasp.

“Never. I don’t need presents. You’re the present.” He says cheekily, pulling you down just enough so he can place his head on your stomach and finally let go of his weight between your legs.

“I’m tired. You tire me out, woman.” He mumbles, as you chuckle and stop squirming, evidently admitting your defeat. You felt very hot in the face.

“Brat. No one told you to trap me and do pushups.” You counter, but your hands make their way to his head to whisk your fingers through his hair. It was like catnip for men; just rake your hands through their scalp to weaken them for just a moment.

A moment was all you needed.

Maybe after you could escape.

Matthew hums as his eyes close, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You know I’m playing right? I don’t need presents this year. Thank you for caving on the tree, pretty. Thank you.” He mumbles out, and you can’t help but smile, once again happy that you were just able to make him happy.

“I know…” You mumble out too, “Thank you for pestering me, it was worth it.” You finish.

And just like that, it was like you hit a nerve again.

Matthew raises his head right after your words, eyes furrowing and a firm pout painted on his lips; “Pestering? Yah! You’re mean, this is why we can never have nice things!” He wines, hands going to tickle you. You giggle out begrudgingly, body weakening once again.

“Matt!! I’m sorry- fuck! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to say pester, you’re not a pest! I fucked up- haha! Stop!” You laugh out, so weak that fighting back doesn’t feel like an option.

Matthew laughs out at your words before stopping and sitting up, grabbing your hands to pull you up with him. You continue to laugh tiredly as you look at his very satisfied face before you’re leaning over and resting your forehead on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Matt.” You whisper out, now exhausted.

In the end, he puts up with your antics more than you put up with his and it made one thing clear to you;

Maybe you didn’t need to escape.

Maybe this is right where you belong.

“Yes, I’ll spare you just this once, lady. Next time I’ll suffocate you with kisses. We’ll see if you even want to escape then.” He teases triumphantly, hands reaching over to the coffee table for his mug of peppermint hot chocolate.

This was your chance, now that you’ve regained your strength, only one thing was left.

As he sips away at his hot cocoa, you stand up and make a b-line to your two’s shared room where you reach for a small present from under your bed. Once you return, you smile cheekily at your boyfriend with the present behind your back.

“What? What are you hiding?” Matthew asks, staring at you suspiciously. You laugh, knowing he’d read you like a book within seconds, just as he always did.

“I have your present. And this time you don’t have to wait.” You say, showing him the small gift and handing it to him for him to open. Matthew stares up at you with a side eye, but a smile is silently growing on his face.

You knew how much Christmas meant to him; how much family meant to him. It’d been too long since he had the opportunity to spend the holiday’s with them too. So you saved up a little more than you intended to surprise him.

“Open it.” You urge, nodding towards the box in his hands. He continues to stare up at you, love stored in his eyes in a way that made even the frostiest of nights toasty.

“I thought we said no presents this year. We are supposed to be saving up for next year-“ He ponders, but his words are cut short when he opens the box and see’s the contents inside.

Time stops for just a moment as he stares down into the shallow gold box.

Within seconds he seems to analyze the situation, then his neck shoots over to you, and it doesn’t even take another half-second before he’s onto his feet and embracing you.

“I- I thought the plan was for next year—what is this?” He questions, so overwhelmed with emotions that his words are quickly strung together. You laugh a bit as you hug him back, very proud that he seems to love his gift.

“We can see them this year. I’ve never been to Canada before. It’s time for me to see a real snow storm.” You chuckle out as he pulls away slightly to get a good look at your face and read your sincerity, printed out plane tickets and hotel receipts gripped firmly in his hands.

“You…” He starts, eyes searching yours with an expression you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. It held love and respect and surprise—it held everything all at once and more than you could place or name.

“I didn’t want a Christmas tree because we won’t even be here for Christmas stupid-“ You start, before being rudely interrupted by Matthew’s lips on yours.

His hand grips your jaw in order to control the kiss, and he kisses you with the most passion you think you’ve ever received.

Once he pulls away, eyes foggy with lust yet his smile sweet and almost shy, you can’t help but feel red shoot down your neck at the way he’s staring at you.

“Forget the tree, I have a present for you now.” He says playfully, hands pulling you even closer in a way that hints at something he’d just accused you of earlier. You laugh and smack him away, deciding maybe the egg nog should be spiked tonight.

“Miss, what would you like? Anything in particular?” He asks, head tilting in a playful way as his eyes squint at you, his arms going to cross in front of him and outlining his muscles just right. You stare at him with warning, but your smile never faulters.

You took him in, the way he stood with a purpose; light brown hair all messy and fluffy, black muscle shirt clinging to him in a way that screamed something completely opposite of what his stupid soft Christmas pajama-bottoms had to offer.

He was so stupid.

He was your stupid.

And now he’d get to spend Christmas like he’d been wishing to for years—with his family.

And you’d be right there with him.

Maybe the great Christmas escape was destined to fail.

Maybe Seok Matthew was home, so escaping him was never an option to begin with—you didn’t know.

You were just happy to fail the said escape over and over again.

“Seok Matthew, are you thinking dirty thoughts? AH!-“ You yelp out, as he leans forward and hoists you over his shoulder, quickly making his way towards your two’s shared bedroom.

“Enough of your teasing, it’s my turn.” He says through a smile, prancing down the halls with you in his firm grasp triumphantly.

He was so proud and cute when it came to you; and you’d let him win every time.

Every single time.

.♡.

2024 © lovepookie

♡ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.

[faithst]

PRETTY MESS ♡ SMT

synopsis you absolutely despise matthew because he somehow always one-ups you. so when he has to tutor you because of your failing grades, you hate it. though, you start to notice features about him that make him attractive through these sessions.

genre academicrivalandtutor!matthew x gn!reader, angst, suggestive [16+] wc 1.6k warnings matthew is a bit of an ass, some swears, makeout

masterlist

some people are god’s favorite. one of them being none other than seok matthew; the embodiment of perfection.

great face, great body, and great personality. he’s adored by all and to say you were envious, it’s true. since everyone treasured matthew so much, you assumed you could one-up him in one thing, and that being grades.

well.. you were incorrect, seok matthew is annoyingly smart as well and that gave you more reason to detest him. if he wasn’t such an ass to you, perhaps you would’ve been less irritated every time he achieved a better grade than you but of course not.

he was an absolute asshole to you; never failing to one-up you every moment. he had all the cables, pulled all the right strings, and had everyone wrapped around his finger no matter how hard you tried to be better than him.

he was never one to converse with you but all these back-handed compliments he gave were enough to confirm the disdain was mutual. you constantly felt frustrated at how he always maintained the spotlight and refused to share the crown. inconsiderate prick.

you yearned for the attention he has, jealousy reeking off you every moment the teachers praised him for something you could’ve achieved if it wasn’t for his smooth chatters.

arriving at the classroom, you sat down waiting for the teacher’s arrival fishing out a book to fill up the missing time. matthew eyed you as you ignored all the commotion created by other students and concentrated on your reading ‘how could you read in this environment? he thought, seating down as the teacher arrived.

“i’ve completed grading your exams and i’ll be handing them out.” he steps to each table one by one, handing the papers that revealed everyone’s grades. as you acquired yours, you were horrified to see a big C- on your sheet.

shocked at how vastly your grades slipped compared to the previous exams. you were ignorant as your grades in chemistry last time were significantly high so you didn’t prepare that much this time.

“and congratulations to matthew for getting the highest score, again.” a proud smirk tugged on matthew’s lips. you scoff, mentally blaming yourself for not preparing better. before the lesson ended, the teacher pulled you and matthew aside.

“your grades are dropping.. very badly.. so i’ve decided you should have a tutor!” he expressed, smiling as he did tiny claps. “so why won’t i let none other than my star student, seok matthew tutor you!” the teacher’s hand pulling him closer by the shoulder.

you slowly blinked, processing the statement while matthew stood wide-eyed “no sir, i can learn by myself or have another person be my tutor?” you panicked, not wanting to be weak about grades, especially to matthew “ridiculous! matthew’s the best at this subject and you could learn a thing or two.” he beamed.

“sir, i don’t think i have the time to tutor someone who is very behind in their studies, that’ll somewhat put me behind too!” matthew voiced out, you taking offense to that. “matthew, i’m certain you can make some time for your classmate and you two could also work on ‘your chemistry’.” the teacher finger-quoted, emphasising on the ‘chemistry’.

“can’t wait..” you mumble under your breath. displeasure plastered on your face. matthew sighed “whatever, i’ll be in the library after school and only for one hour. i’m busy with more important stuff than your failing grades.” you scoffed, rolling your eyes before dismissing yourself.

your mind already filled to the brim from your previous lessons, now you had to be tutored by someone you loathed. you enter the library trying to find him “you’re late.” a voice belonging to none other than the devil himself pops up behind you.

“do you want to continue doing bad or..?” he raised his eyebrows, clearly annoyed. you ignored his comments, not desiring to interact with him. “here, do this sheet and do it quickly so i can see what you’re struggling at. though, i’m pretty sure you’re struggling at everything.” he snickered, sharply sliding a paper with questions towards you.

reading the first question, none of this made sense to you at all. he saw your complex reaction “first question and you’re already out the door.” he snarked, pulling out his textbook. these remarks biting at your self-esteem every second “you talk too much, it’s annoying.” rolling your eyes, huffing out. you had no choice but to endure this.

matthew ignored you and began to explain the details, but after a while those words became fuzzy and your eyes were on the verge of fluttering shut.

“alright, one hour’s up.” matthew stood up, leaving you and your scattered notes. this went on for the following week. to be honest; you learned to just ignore his mean words which decreased by the days as you didn’t give him the satisfaction of snapping back but as accomplishing so, you have absorbed little to no information. you are so fucked.

this particular day, matthew planned to give you the exact test to see if you understood even a bit. rather than sliding the paper across the table, he laid it in front of you. “i’ll give you 15 minutes.” the gears in your brain going full-blown, writing whatever nonsense you could into the paper. eventually, you gave up and handed him a half_done_half_empty paper. he quirked an eyebrow, honestly expecting you not to answer at all although your answers were slightly off.

“your answers are dumb but at least you answered two questions.” as per usual, he brought out a few notes and his textbook, explaining the same things that you couldn’t seem to grasp. instead of the free knowledge in front of you, your gaze fell on his hands, gradually reaching up to his neck, and jawline. his features look softer than usual and less tense. your intense staring caught matthew off guard. a bit embarrassed as you’ve never looked at him so intently.

he cleared his throat “is there something on my face?” attempting to wipe off invisible smudge. perhaps it was the lethargy from memorising multiple equations but you definitely weren’t thinking straight.

“since when did your face become so nice to look at..?” tilting your head to get a better peek at his jawline, your eyes meet his and matthew’s face immediately overwhelmed with heat. quickly packing up “i think we’re done for today..” he managed to let out without any stutters, pulling his hood over his head as an attempt to cover his bright red ears.

matthew seemed less tense (well before you did THAT to him) and less rude. the thoughts of his astounding visuals surround your mind as you thought ‘was he always this attractive?’ quickly snapping back to reality. this was seok matthew, someone you despised for stealing your spotlight. though, you had more problems than a failing grade now.

the following few days, matthew seemed jumpy, flinching at the slightest brush of your fingers, unable to hold eye contact. you on the other hand, just seemed more intrigued by the boy; wanting to learn more about him (was there a real person behind that arrogant persona?)

now repeatedly asking questions, even smiling at him. matthew felt stupid as his heart skipped a beat each time he saw you smile, something he’s never witnessed alone with you. he never would’ve admit that he started having feelings for you.

unconsciously throughout the days, the periods where he tutored you slowly changed from his most hated time to his best time. he began to stare into your features; your neck, your lips, especially your eyes. he wanted to wreck you for looking at him like that.

he sat down beside you for the next tutoring session, making an effort to avoid eye contact at all costs. this came off as odd because matthew would look at you when he was teaching to get ahold of your reactions to see if you understood or not. it bothered you how you couldn’t see his features properly.

“matthew, are you okay?” you ask, a tint of concern laced your words, it sounded as if you had a reason to care “yeah, do you understand this?” he asks back, changing the subject. still determined to find out, you continue “you seem distracted.” which he was; mind trying to erase thoughts of what he desired to do to you.

“i think we should move on to this chapter.” he ignored, pacing through the notes “matthew.” you touch his hand by the slightest, his breath hitched “you haven’t looked at me this whole time, what’s distracting you?” “you.” eyebrows furrowed at the sudden confession “what?”

“because you drive me fucking insane.”

heat rapidly spreading through your cheeks. he grabbed you by the wrist bringing you to a secluded part of the library, your back facing the nearby wall and matthew towering over you. sudden embarrassment from the position, feeling powerless.

matthew tilted your chin making you look back up at him, the smirk he had got you slowly loosing your mind “god, the way you look at me.” he says, one hand on your waist as he pulls you closer, goosebumps swarming your body, amused at the sight of you vulnerable under his touch.

leaning in closer brushing his lips against yours “they’re soft.” he whispers to your ear. your hands now on his shoulders, matthew delicately peppering a trail of wet kisses to your jawline, down to your neck. stopping as he reached your collarbones, shivers exempting your body.

whining softly when he stopped; at this point, you were just as needy as matthew, now gripping on the hand that was on your waist.

fuck it.

you pulled him closer by the belt, lips crashing onto eachother as butterflies erupted in your stomach, knees becoming weak. his lips were intoxicating, eyes shut but your unsteady breathing still audible.

the little gasps and moans that escaped from you made matthew feel dizzy, eager for more. his hands curling around your waist as yours made their way to his hair to tug it softly as he groaned from the action. there was no stopping from this.

parting away to catch your breath, a string of saliva following along as it connects to your lips. matthew’s lips were red and swollen, hair ruffled and messy from your tugging. his eyes glossy with a hint of lust.

this image of matthew will forever be engraved into you mind, he looked like a pretty mess. your pretty mess.

© keiwook | 2023

[zbase1]

kisses with zerobaseone

genre: fluff

warnings: kithing (mwAh), swearing (buckle up lads), slightly suggestive in zhang hao and matthew's sections

author's note: this is my first fic on this blog 😳 hope you guys like it hehe

jiwoong

— confident king 😼😼

— knows how to make you swoon with his expeessions

— i mean, he didn't take all those acting lessons for nothing

— makes it super dramatic every time he wants to kiss you

— "my lips are lonely, mind if they meet yours?"

— "jiwoong is that really necessary"

— smiles throughout kisses AHHHH

— likes to give you forehead kisses before you go to sleep

zhang hao

— i am a firm believer that zhang hao's love language is physical touch 🗣️

— approaches you from behind with a back hug whenever you're cooking

— and he just starts lightly kissing your neck hello?????

— so you turn the stove on a lower setting before turning around to face him with your hands on your hips

— "what do you think you're doing hao?"

— "what i'm just showing my affection" 🤷🏻‍♀️

— but then zhang hao does NOT break eye contact with you and takes a step towards you which makes you very flustered

— he likes to put his hands on your shoulders so he can pull you closer to his body FHJSKDBSK

— i think kisses with hao would be very gentle and romantic

hanbin

— so so so sweet

— always asks for your permission to kiss you and makes sure you are comfortable

— it's also tradition of hanbin's to drive you back home and then kiss you before you get out of the car

— likes to hold both of your hands while kissing you

— holds you so gently honestly you forget your hands are in his

— hanbin's lips would feel so soft

— kissing him would feel like you're floating on a fluffy cloud during a pink and orange sunset

— "y/n you have really pretty eyes"

— "i could say the same about you, hanbin"

— overall so sweet and wholesome im screaming what a gentleman !!!

matthew

— you and matthew would be on a picnic date in this cute little park

— he's cronching on some green grapes obnoxiously (endearingly) loud

— "matthew chill brah you're gonna fucking choke on a grape sooner or later"

— "nuh uh" ☝🏻

— you guys would be lying down next to each other on the picnic blanket, cloud watching

— you feel a pair of eyes watching you instead of at the sky, so you turn your head and matthew's face was RIGHT THERE (jumpscare)

— he just giggles at your reaction and places a hand under your chin and kisses you

— will melt if you play with his hair

— also bonus i think matthew would enjoy french kissing (do what you want with this information)

taerae

— gives you a huge smile every time you guys are about to kiss

— his dimples oh my god

— we must stay focused brothers ‼️

— your favorite thing to do is to distract taerae while he's playing pubg

— "what y/n i'm trying to heal my teammate right now"

— you'd say nothing but just wrap your arms around him and his gaming chair from behind and steal a kiss on his cheek and run away

— taerae would calmly turn around, remove his headset, and bolt after you like a man on a mission

— "GET BACK HERE you made me lose !!"

— i'm sorry but i think out of the members taerae would have the crustiest lips (i say this out of love)

ricky

— ricky is usually too shy to make the first move, but when it came to your first kiss with him, oh boy

— it was the evening before prom and he had a sudden surge of confidence

— you would be getting ready and helping him tie his tie

— naturally, the distance between you two became closer

— you see ricky's eyes staring at your lips

— so you close your eyes, expecting him to kiss you

— until he doesn't.....

— "you know, they call me rizzard of oz"

— "stfu and kiss me ricky"

— also !! ricky thinks it's so cute how you have to tiptoe to reach his height !!

— pro tip: wear strawberry lip balm and he will literally gravitate towards you 🏃🏻‍♂️💨

gyuvin

— blushy baby omg

— loves when you kiss his cheek

— but the first time yall kissed, it was a disaster 😟

— bc the mf accidentally bOnked his head into yours while leaning in

— "oW gyuvin why you gotta be so damn tall"

— "and why you gotta be so short, y/n?? you're closer to hell than i am"

— despite the bickering and Hard fumble, it was a good kiss regardless

— that night, gyuvin giggled to himself and kicked his feet while laying in his bed trying to fall asleep, but he can only think about you

[eternalyoo]

𝐻𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝒷𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒜𝓃𝓃𝒶 @jiwoonhyung 🥰💙

Happy birthday to one of the sweetest, most supportive friend I have ! I Hope your birthday was amazing and I’m so happy to have you in my life even from afar, ily 🫶

[starr-lvst]

❀ 𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

| PROLOGUE | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | …

Pairing: Shen Ricky x Kim Gyuvin (shimkongz) M/M Synopsis: Rich Boy! Ricky’s mother gives him three months to find a suitable fiancé, or else she’ll marry him off to someone of her choosing, and Ricky just so happens upon the love of his life - Barista! Kim Gyuvin - in the most average and unassuming little coffee shop he’d ever seen. Warnings: this part contains no smut, but future parts will. Because of this MDNI. Words: 1925. Genre: Arranged marriage AU , mostly fluff , eventual smut. Fandom: Zerobaseone / Zerose

AUTHORS NOTE: To preface, this story is far from a masterpiece. It’s purely an outlet to spill some of my little Shimkongz head-thoughts, because they are truly adorable. - If you’re here for filth smut, then please be patient. It’ll come in due time, don’t you worry, but this is a slow burn so buckle up.

AO3 LINK

If Ricky were to ever confide in someone as to how unsatisfied and unhappy he felt with his life, he was certain they’d laugh in his face.

Ricky… the kind, intelligent, handsome and talented Shen Ricky? 

Ricky, who never had a single hair out of place, always knew exactly what to say in any situation, and could have anything he could ever wish for with little more than a smile? 

If he of all people were to say anything of his growing stress and unhappiness, he’d be shot down in a heartbeat. Told he was ungrateful, spoiled and ignorant.

But no. If only they could see behind the veil of perfection that followed him wherever he went. 

Ricky wasn’t the flawless man he seemed to be. Whilst- yes, he was blessed as some would say- he was barely keeping himself afloat amidst the expectations and pressure that society was constantly bearing down upon him. 

And this could not be more apparent to him as in that moment, perched on the edge of one of his mother’s many expensive couches, all but fighting for his right to freedom.

Now, this may seem melodramatic as an opening statement, but the context of the situation provides for little more that can be truthly said besides this accurate, whilst seemingly exaggeratory, explanation.

Ricky’s mother had been on his back relentlessly for the past few months about her wish to marry him off. Constantly trying to set him up on dates, introducing him to countless “eligible” partners, never giving him a chance to breathe.

The poor boy couldn’t even engage in the most mundane of conversations with her without his mother subtly dropping comments of endorsement regarding countless women he had never even met, let alone felt romantically inclined towards.

Afterall, what good is it attempting to get him to establish a romantic relationship between himself and someone who knew nothing about him. And, no. His family’s wealth was not a factor of awareness that could be attributed towards knowing him.

Ricky had never felt even slightly inclined to pursue intimate relationships with anyone he’d met in his lifetime thus far, the closest he’d ever come to that would be his very occasional hook-ups… but those couldn’t be considered as anything more than “no strings attached” encounters with no purpose besides fulfilling his own sexual needs, and he took no price in them whatsoever.

But that’s not to say that he had never felt that unmistakable tug on his heart whenever he settled down to watch one of his favourite romance dramas… no. Not at all.

He’d be lying if he tried to imply that he didn’t often like to entertain the thought of finding someone to call his own, but the simple fact in his life that he’d more than come to terms with waa that the right person for him did not exist- or at least not within the bubble of wealth and class that his status constrained him to exist within.

The people Ricky met were always predictable- their attempts to get close to him being pathetically obvious in that they were driven by little more than the contents of his bank account.

Not once had anyone who was supposedly “interested” in Ricky ever done as much as ask him about his favourite food.

And, whilst a wish to be inquired about something as trivial as his favourite food may seem pathetic and pitiful, you’d be shocked by how much weight that sort of question holds after becoming so used to answering nothing but shallow-rooted small talk.

So, sure. Those people may very well be “interested” , but were they interested in the beautifully small things that made Ricky the man he was? The strawberries that made him smile in bliss when their juice filled his mouth? His hobbies? His anything? 

No. 

They were never truly interested in Ricky, but in whatever bells and whistles came with his name.

These are exactly the sorts of reasons that he’s been trying in vain to get his mother to understand.

It just seemed that no amount of refuting her endless harassment could make her understand just how unhappy Ricky would become if he agreed to sell himself away in a marriage.

“Mā, will you please just listen to me for once?” Fingers grasped harshly in his hair, body stiff and teeth gritted- Ricky figured that one last push couldn’t hurt when he was already crushed at rock-bottom.

Clearly, his raised and frustrated tone was enough to cause what he could only hope was a flash of softening across his mother’s gaze from where she sat comfortably within the plush upholstery of a crème chaise-lounge, and he cautiously took it as a sign to continue. “What will it take to get you to understand that this isn’t what I want? You know I care about our family, but you also fully well know that I can keep us together just fine without marrying. All that getting engaged would do is make me depressed and you know it.” It took all his strength to maintain an ounce of respect as he directed his words in her direction, but truly his patience was running out; in that moment, there was nothing Ricky wanted more than to get up and leave, drive away and never return.

“Quanrui … you know this ideal is bigger than you, right?” His mother spoke with far too much softness for what she was implying- far too affectionate of a smile on her face to be suggesting that Ricky had no say in the course of his own life. “It’s not just your life that this matter regards, but mine, too… your little sister’s. You know that we don’t possess the same talent for business that you do, and our family unit is far too small to rely solely on you to keep food on the table. Your sister is too young, and I’m too old. If you choose to put us at risk by not engaging with someone who may not only be your life partner, but your business partner… my dear, Quanrui. I don’t know how we’d cope.”

Deep down, Ricky knew that his mother’s reproach was nothing less than an underhanded attempt at manipulating him; their fortune was far from enough to keep them afloat even if Ricky stopped working all together, and his mother’s fashion line was so stable that the income it brought in couldn’t be disrupted even if they tried… but the mention of his younger sister cut deep.

He would do anything to ensure that her smile would never fade, anything to look after her, to keep her happy. In the society of duplicitous and two-faced sociopaths that Ricky had grown up in, his younger sister served as one of very few reminders that there is still hope for the world. She was sunshine and innocence incarnate, always seeing the best in people… and Ricky would rather die than see her suffer.

But even the reminder of his sister couldn’t quench Ricky’s growing anger entirely. 

Who had given his mother the right to control his life like this? Did she not care for his well being one bit?

The thought was infuriating, but he knew there was no room for altercation when it came to his mother; she was far more likely to physically drag him into the marriage office than be convinced to leave him be. 

Which left him three options:

-One, illegally leave the country and forge a fake identity.

-Two, give in and just get married to one of the women on his mother’s very long list of eligible bachelorettes.

-Three ( and he’d felt as if a lightbulb had lit up above his head when he thought of this one), engage in an ultimatum.

“Mā, I understand. But… please. Just give me some time. I’ll find a fiancé by myself. Just.. if this is going to happen, I at least want it to feel natural.” He put on his meekest, most respectful voice and subtly batted his eyes- just praying that she’d at least agree to this.

It felt like the best compromise for this situation; he’d try as hard as possible to find someone that he actually felt comfortable with, someone who saw him for who he was, and if that meant just making a friend who was willing to get married to him for the sake of the situation, then so be it.

But deep down … Ricky also found himself hoping that maybe this would be his chance to find someone genuine. Maybe if he socialised in settings that weren’t high-class-exclusive, then he could find someone who could truly care for him, and that he could truly care for too.

The wait for a response from Ricky’s mother felt impossibly long. 

It seemed that every time she’d appeared to be about to say something, she’d immediately shut her mouth. 

But eventually, with Ricky having put on his best “I’m about to cry, but it’s your choice” face (reserved for desperate measures), it seemed that her resolve had begun to crack.

“Alright,” she caved, “I’ll give you three months. But if you haven’t found someone eligible by then, I’ll be arranging it for you.”

Ricky felt an overwhelming wave of relief wash over him and all but jumped out of his seat to place a chaste kiss on top of his mother’s head.

“Thank you, Mā.”

Sure, three months to find the person he’d be spending the entirety of his remaining days on earth with was far from ideal, but it was easily the best outcome possible.

Ricky could only hope that the person he’d find would be different from everyone else.

He turned to leave his mother’s living room, intent on getting a head start on his new “mission to find love” (as one may say), when said woman called out to him with fake innocence, “But, Quanrui. Your fiancé… I have some requirements for who they can be.” 

Ricky stilled his step, what was she planning?

“First, they have to be a potential business partner; they need to have a steady income. That’s not too hard- right, Quanrui? But second…

She must be a woman.”

His heart sunk, that bitch.

“I don’t know what goes on inside that head of yours, but I’m not even close to oblivious enough to be ignorant of the way you look at men. We can’t have you ruining our family’s reputation, now can we?”

To be fair, Ricky probably should’ve expected that. But he couldn’t fight the way his blood boiled as the words left her lips.

How childish was she??

He figured it was probably safer to just walk out at that, and that he did.

So what if his future fiancé was a man? Considering the nature of the agreement, the first requirement seemed understandable. But for her to tell him he couldn’t be with someone of his preferred sex?? That was a line that she did not have the right to cross, and one of the many things that Ricky had been hoping to avoid when he established the deal.

What era was she living in, anyway?

So, angrily clutching his wheel as he drove back home to his apartment building, Ricky swore then and there that he’d prove her wrong.

He’d find someone who was not only a good marriage partner in his mother's eyes, but someone who also made him happy- and if that meant breaking his mother’s second requirement, then so be it.

———————————————————

| PROLOGUE | PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | …

@yuqisbackupdancer @moonlightndaydreams

[ddongtsan]

Okay, right now I'm wondering whether or not I should become a Riize stan.

'Cause, like zerose and onedoor, I love the interactions they have with each other and that includes Sohee (I'm not sure if that's his name, sorry), so I think it would be cool to follow the group too.

However, there's all that confusion because of Seunghan and stuff about riize being 7 and how I would be coming in with him being 6, it would be kind of weird and I wouldn't feel good about it.

So I'm thinking A LOT about the pros and cons of joining the fandons or not, because despite everything, they seem to be really sweet.

[incorrectzbone]

Matthew: what is your future plan?

Yujin: I'll have spaghetti for lunch!

Matthew: no, i mean longer future

Yujin: oh you mean for dinner?

[starshaped-dreamer]

café boy (s.mt)

pairing - seok matthew x fem!reader

genre - coffee shop AU, college AU, fluff, strangers to friends to lovers

warnings - reader is a lil stressed, violence (nothing worse than a punch), very minor injuries, protective matthew, suggestive but not graphic at all

w/c - 2743

a/n - happy birthday matthew! a matthew birthday special I love him so much he's climbing my bias list so fast

You'd been coming to this café for so long, but it was becoming harder and harder to convince yourself it was only for the coffee. But how could you ignore the sweet smiles of the barista, who happened to be working every time you went? His soft voice politely taking your order with a grin was a stark contrast to the toned muscles suddenly on display as he makes your cappuccino, and you found yourself subconsciously heading in that direction whenever you finished classes for the day.

The café was noticeably more quiet than usual as you entered that afternoon, and the cute barista was the only one working. You checked your phone to realise it was almost 8pm, and you had been studying for longer than you intended.

The bell at the door sounded as you entered, catching the boys' attention. He was wiping down the counter, but put the cloth away as soon as he noticed your presence. "Hi there," a bright smile donned his face as he greeted you. "You come here often, don't you?"

You felt your cheeks heat in embarrassment as you realise he recongises you. "Uh, yeah, you make good coffee." He grins. "Speaking of which, I was going to order one, but I just noticed the time. Caffeine right now would be a crime to my sleep schedule."

He laughs, and you could swear the sound was the sweetest thing you've ever heard. "Lucky for you, I make a pretty good hot chocolate."

You mirror his smile, handing over your card. "Sounds perfect."

You take a seat at your usual table by the window, scrolling on your phone as you wait for the boy to make your drink. He brings it over after a short while, and you smile at the way he's decorated it with whipped cream and mini marshmallows. "Thank you, this is exactly what I needed today."

He grins. "I'm Matthew, by the way. Mind if I sit?" He gestures to the seat across from you.

You smile. "Y/N, and not at all."

He slides into the booth. "So, you're a student here? What on earth are you majoring in to warrant you staying here this late?"

"I'm a business major," you sigh. "My partner completely ditched me on this group assignment and now I'm having to put in twice as much work so I can get a good grade."

"Wow, group assignments really suck. You shouldn't give them any credit for this if you've done it all yourself."

"It's a bit easier said than done. He's a teacher favourite, one that can make or break your reputation with a single sentence. But I'll figure it out eventually. What about you? Are you a student too?"

Matthew's hand rests against his face, listening intently to every word you say. "Yep! It would be pretty silly of me to get an on-campus job if I wasn't. I'm a dance major."

You smile, and the conversation continues naturally, you both talking about anything and everything, even after you've reached the final dregs of your hot chocolate.

~

A couple of days later, you were walking to lunch before you heard someone call your name. You turn around to find Matthew, running towards you, waving his hand in the air. He was wearing jeans and your college's signature hoodie, rather than his striped apron you were so used to seeing him in at the café. The glasses that sat atop his face made your heart race.

"Y/N! Are you heading to lunch?"

You nod. "How about you?"

"Sure am! We should go together." He starts walking ahead of you, and you have to run to catch up to him.

"Where are we going?"

He turns around to face you, walking backwards with a mischievous grin. "It's a surprise. I've been wanting to go here for ages."

You laugh at his excitement; his wonderment at everything was nothing if not refreshing and cute.

You wander just off campus, until you reach a cute storefront of a café. Matthew holds the door open for you, and you gasp as soon as you set foot inside. "A cat café?"

He grins. "None of my other friends wanted to go, so as soon as I saw you on campus I knew you would agree to come."

You smirk. "I don't know if I agreed, it was almost like you dragged me with."

He feigned hurt. "You gave off cat café vibes. I thought it would be more fun as a surprise."

"It was a very nice surprise. Thank you Matthew," you said, and you meant it. You hadn't had a lot of chances to socialise on campus, and you really appreciated his willingness to spend time with you.

~

A couple weeks had passed, and you found yourself getting closer and closer to Matthew. Now you had both met properly, you seemed to find each other everywhere, whether it be studying in the library or eating lunch in the cafeteria. Whenever you both had free time, you'd travel off-campus, finding new and exciting restaurants to try.

Your favourite part though, was the Tuesday night hot chocolates, whenever you'd stay late in the library studying and Matthew was working late. Every week he'd surprise you with a new hot chocolate topping, before sitting down across from you as you both chatted comfortably. It felt good having a friend you could get along with so well.

There was only one problem, however, and that was your stupid group project. You found the workload becoming overwhelming, your late nights in the library becoming even later, and you were starting to lose time for anything else in your life.

There was one particular Tuesday night, a week before your final presentation was due, when you felt like you were at your breaking point. You'd been stuck at your laptop in the library for hours, doing so much but feeling like you were getting nothing done. You were frustrated, at your partner, at how exhausted you were, at everything. The frustration brought tears to your eyes, and you buried your head in your arms, grateful for the lack of people in the building at the late hour.

Suddenly, you felt a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Y/N? Y/N, what's wrong?"

Your head snaps up at the familiar voice, and you meet Matthew's concerned gaze as he crouches beside your chair. "Are you okay?"

You hurriedly turn your head away, embarrassed as you try to wipe away your tears frantically. He grabs your wrist gently to stop you, bringing it back down to the table but not letting go. He strokes the back of your hand softly, giving you a comforting smile. In his other hand, you spot a takeaway coffee cup, which he places on the table next to you. "I brought you your hot chocolate to go, I figured you got held up studying after you didn't show up for a while."

Your eyes widen, almost comically, as you check the time on your laptop. "Shit! Matthew I'm so sorry. It's been-" You don't even notice the stray tears that fall down your face until a hand against your cheek interrupts you. His thumb gently wipes away any trace of tears, before pulling away so he could sit down in the chair next to you.

"You don't have to apologise. Just tell me what's up, hey? Maybe I can help."

Your heart stutters, both at the unexpected physical contact and his kind words. You go to reject his offer, but seeing him so willing to help, and acknowledging just how stressed you were, you swallow, realising that maybe a little help might be exactly what you need. "It's this stupid group project. It's a lot more work to take on than I realised, and my partner still hasn't done anything. I've texted him so many times, I think he's blocked me."

Matthew frowns, and it's the first time you think you've seen him angry. "What an asshole. What do you have left to complete? I've made my fair share of presentations in my time."

"I'm having trouble researching and doing the PowerPoint at the same time while trying to cover all of these topics."

He thinks for a moment, before pulling his own laptop out of his backpack. "How about if you tell me what to look up, I can find some good sources for you and you can put the information into the presentation?"

You nod with a smile. "You're an actual lifesaver, Matthew. I'm so sorry I kept you waiting at the café."

"Hey, I told you that you didn't have to apologise. I'm more than happy to help, especially when you've just been left in the deep end like this. Now drink up, before your hot chocolate goes cold. I put extra care into making this one." He pushes the takeaway cup towards you, before pushing his glasses further up his face.

~ With Matthew's help, the time it took to finish the presentation was more than halved, and you expressed your gratitude as much as possible by paying for lunch that entire week, despite his protests. But D-Day was finally here, and you had to present it to your entire business class. Matthew had waited for you in front of the building your class was in, pressing a cappuccino into your hands, claiming he'd put his 'good luck charm' on it. You accepted it with a grateful grin, feeling extra prepared for your presentation.

But you were nervous, too. You had something extra up your sleeve for this one. You were going to expose your partner for the freeloader he was, giving zero credit to him and notifying your professor he had done nothing to help. Reputation on the line or not, Matthew had helped an incredible amount, and you would be damned if you were going to let that credit go to your partner.

So, as you finished your PowerPoint, you made sure to leave no trace of your partner's name on the final slide, denying he had helped in any way when your professor questioned you about it. You ignored the way your partner's jaw clenched in anger, proud you finally stood up for yourself.

But just when you thought you were in the clear, your heart dropped as you heard your name, muttered angrily as you left your class.

"What the fuck was that, Y/N?" It was your partner, storming towards you angrily.

"I worked tirelessly trying to do twice as much work since you couldn't bother to do anything."

He scoffed. "I have tons of other classes to stay on top of, I though for one group assessment you'd be fine on your own."

You laughed humourlessly. "Wow. I have tons of other classes too, but was more than willing to put in as much effort as I needed to to make this a good presentation. I even texted-"

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, you fell to the ground harshly, scraping your knee as you felt your cheek sting.

He had punched you.

He was going for another swing, too, before another hand came and intercepted it. Matthew was standing in front of you, knuckles white as his hands were clenched tightly into fists. He shoved your partner forward, nothing but anger radiating off him.

"What the fuck, dude?"

"You punched Y/N," his voice was the deepest and most serious you'd ever heard it. "Who the fuck does that? Now I suggest you make your way, and never bother her again, before your fate turns out worse."

He scoffs. "Whatever man. You guys are nuts, overreacting this much. If I'd known she was such a bitch I wouldn't of been partners with her in the first place. I just heard she got good grades." With that he ran away, and you had to reach out for Matthew's wrist to stop him from running after.

At your touch, Matthew crouches to face you, his expression instantly transforming from angry to worried. "Are you okay? I can't believe he'd do something like that."

You nod, smiling. "I'm perfectly fine, thanks to you. Nothing but a few scratches. Looks like I'm buying you lunch for a week again."

Matthew ignores your joke the moment he sees your knee, scratched and bleeding from the fall. "Ouch, Y/N, that looks painful. Are you sure your okay?"

You were touched at his concern as you nodded, upset the situation had forced him to be this serious. "I can hardly feel it."

His face relaxes slightly, but traces of worry remain. "Still, it would be pretty nasty if that was to get infected. We should clean it." He holds his arms out to help you stand. "Come on, I live on campus, not far from here."

~

You couldn't believe it. You found yourself in the apartment of your campus crush from a month ago, someone who you now considered your best friend, if you ignored those lingering feelings.

They were becoming harder to ignore, however, as you watch the way his tongue sticks out slightly as he focuses on gently cleaning your injury, before applying a band-aid. His focus and care made your heart melt.

"There we go. All done," he looks up to meet your eyes. "Are you sure you're okay? I can't believe that bastard would just punch you like that. All over some lost assignment grade he deserved. What kind of asshole-"

You place your hand on his to stop his rambling. "Matthew. I'm fine, I promise. Thank you for protecting me."

He smiles sadly. "I'm just sorry I couldn't be there sooner," he reaches up to cup your cheek, gently stroking the bruised area where you were punched with his thumb. "Your cheek is bruised and everything. Why would he punc-"

You couldn't help it anymore. You leaned forward, connecting your lips with his briefly to get him to stop talking. You pulled away, your cheeks automatically heating as you avoid eye contact. "I-I'm sorr-"

He leaned forward again, reaching up to cup your face with both hands as he kisses you, this time for longer, putting all the unsaid feelings and emotions into the kiss, only pulling away once you'd both run out of breath. You giggle, from shock and joy. He joins in, laughing too, as he presses his forehead against yours. "I really fucking like you Y/N."

You lean forward, pecking him once more. "I really like you too, café boy. I never visited just for the coffee, you know."

He grinned, before suddenly your lips were connected once more, this time with more passion as he went to lift you so you were seated on the kitchen counter, standing in between your legs. The kiss became more and more heated, as you thread your fingers through his hair, his hands on your waist as you both tried to keep as little space as possible between you.

After a while he lifted you again, and you wrapped your legs around him. He carried you, never once breaking the kiss, to his room before shutting the door.

~

You woke to the first rays of sunlight peeking through the blinds, suddenly aware of the warmth that surrounded you. You lay on Matthew's bare chest, his arms wound securely around you as the soft rise and fall of his chest almost lull you back to sleep. He stirs, his arms wrapping tighter around you before you feel a soft kiss pressed against your temple. "Good morning," he mumbled.

You smiled. "Morning."

He shifted so he was facing you, an arm still wrapped around your waist. "How are you feeling? You don't have a concussion, right?"

You grin mischievously. "Hmm, I'm not sure. What exactly happened yesterday?"

He gasped jokingly. "Maybe this will jog your memory." He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, pulling you ever so close.

You both smile as he pulls away. "Oh of course, I remember now."

He chuckles as you resume your position laying on his chest. "I've wanted this for so long, Y/N."

You lean up to kiss his cheek, which turn pink at your gesture. "So have I. Thank you for everything Matthew."

And every word of it was true. Ever since you met him, no person had made you feel so comfortable. And you hoped that would stay the same for a long time.

[loonarii]

zero base one? um

[blankjournal]

Recommended for our weekly theme!

the psychology of strawberries — [s.qr].

SYNOPSIS. besides being your friend, kim gyuvin also holds the existence of being the worst matchmaker in history. the last guy he set you up with ended with a permanent ban from the arcade. the one before that caused you to file a restraining order. which is why when he tries to set you up one last time with his best friend, you understandably shut him down.

the problem is— why the fuck didn’t gyuvin tell you that his best friend is actually the prettiest man in the world? the most charming idiot to have graced your mortal existence? maybe if he did, you wouldn’t have to resort to pavlovian tactics and strawberries just to bag him. if he did, then you wouldn’t have to hide the fact that you’re kind of balls-deep in love with his friend.

PAIRING. shen quanrui x female! reader. GENRE. college! au, (anti) matchmaking! au, strangers to friends to lovers, eventual secret relationship. romance, humor, fluff, suggestive, older! reader, this is just lovelicky propaganda. sue me. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, mentions of sex, making out, making out in public, an almost car crash, stalking (not from any of the leads), erratic behavior (mostly from our lead), ricky in a floral shirt, black haired ricky and bathrobe ricky jumpscare. WORD COUNT. 21k.

TAGLIST. @lovialy @sarang-ae @khaelscafe @jenodreamer @lovelyrickyz @ciaoui @spjhyn @chwesuh-imnida @kgneptun @hanstarrs @dvalitaes @younxii @haesunflower @cyberpunksunwoo @tlnyjoong @bobabunhee @elavin @sassybakaaa @wishfulthnking @lvieee

NOTE. there is evident lack of plot in this. unless you consider thirsting over ricky as plot, then there’s a lot of plot. you’re welcome. feedback and comments are always appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!

AT SOME POINT IN YOUR LIFE, THE PROSPECT OF MEETING A NEW GUY STOPPED BEING A POINT OF INTEREST OR ANTICIPATION. It has now become a harbinger of horror, an inevitable car crash simply lying in wait. Gone are the days where you’re looking forward to the first kiss on your porch and doorstep— now, you don’t even care if you share the same hobbies or not, if you click well or not, neither if your personalities match or not.

Your only hope is that they don’t end up being a stalker or a slob or someone with severe anger issues. And there’s only one culprit for this seemingly permanent shift in your psychology.

“I’m not going on another date! At least one that you’re setting up.”

“C’mon!” Gyuvin clings onto your arm, preventing you from leaving the classroom. He’s crouching on the floor. Your face crunches up, looking down at him like he’s a piece of gum stuck on your boot sole. “This will be the last time. Please? I showed him a picture of you and he thinks you’re cute.”

The sole reason why Kim Gyuvin can get away with anchoring you by the arm with his entire body weight, why he can get away with setting you up with douchebag after douchebag, is because he’s a family friend, and you’ve known him for eight whole years. These tantrums are normal, but the sudden growth spurt he had in ninth grade makes him occasionally forget that you’re still two years older than him. You were already walking before he was even born. This bitch thinks he can make you do what he wants.

“Get off! Are you trying to dislocate my shoulder?”

The moment you raise your free arm to a fist, he releases you from his clutches and puts his arms up innocently, still crouched on the floor. You click your tongue with a sneer, brushing down your sleeve. Anyway, does he have amnesia? Has he forgotten how the last blind dates went? 

“Your friend Jaeryeong also thought I was cute,” you start. “Really cute, in fact. To the point where he wouldn’t leave me alone and I had to file a restraining order against him.”

Now, he’s finally looking guilty. Gyuvin clear his throat and jumps back up to his feet, straightening his clothes and not daring to look you in the eye. “He—he had some issues that I wasn’t aware of and I’m sorry for that— but Ricky is different! He’s not some weirdo! I promise you that he’s a good guy and he’s good looking and—”

“You said the same thing about Do Hajun,” you cut him off. “Sure, he was pretty good looking, but he got so mad at a claw machine and started assaulting it in public. I got banned at the Game Plaza, Gyuvin. I’m not allowed there anymore. I was the top scorer at DDR there. I can’t maintain my rank there anymore because the last guy you set me up with had problems with his temper.”

He looks even more guilty now. Your glare softens because it’s not entirely his fault. But this time the guy’s name is Ricky. That sounds like a fuckboy’s name. A fuckboy who probably wears snapbacks and jeans a little too low. You’re not taking any fucking chances.

“Okay,” Gyuvin breathes out. “I understand that I may have made some bad matches—”

“Some.”

“A lot of bad matches,” he corrects, sheepish. “But that’s just because so many people want to date you! If you think about it, it’s your fault for always attracting weirdos! I’m just the connecting bridge and messenger! I’m sick and tired of my friends asking me to set you up with them too!”

“So why the hell are you trying to do it again?!” Man, you’re getting tired. You asked him to meet you in your lecture hall after class because you wanted to check up on his project, but the moment he came in, he tried throwing you into the sharks once again in an instant. 

You dig into your bag for a piece of candy, unwrapping it and popping it into your mouth with an unamused expression as Gyuvin tries his damn best to market his friend to you. “This will be the last one, I promise! Ricky is my best friend and I can assure you that he’s a decent guy. He’s hot. He’s got a car. Didn’t you say before that you wanted a hot boyfriend with a car?”

“If he’s so hot then why are you so desperately trying to sell him off?”

You weren’t born yesterday. Hell, you were born earlier than this matchmaking scammer and he regularly forgets about that. “Well,” he starts, clearing his throat. “He’s my best friend, but I need my solo time too! If he gets a girlfriend, then maybe he’ll stop showing up at my apartment every Friday night and—”

“That’s enough.”

You stuff a piece of candy into his mouth, promptly shutting him up. His eyes are wide, shock quickly morphing into a grimace when the flavor finally kicks in. Durian. Serves him fucking right. 

“Go set your friend up with someone else. I called you in here for a different reason, Kim Gyuvin.” Nothing like dropping his full name and reminding him that you’re still his upperclassman as a cold splash of water to the face. Gyuvin flinches, suddenly straightening himself. “How’s your project going? You only have two months left to finish it. I hope you didn’t forget.”

His face tells you that he forgot about it, but not totally. He’s reluctantly chewing on the candy you force-fed him. “I’ve— I’ve already picked out a place. Hadong Country in Gyeongsang. I’m planning on going there next week.”

“Alright, good.” You leave him with a pat on the shoulder. “Tell me once you’ve set the date. You should worry about your term paper instead of mine or your friend’s love life. Getting us to date won’t pull up your GPA, Gyuvin.”

“But—”

“No, that’s enough,” you shut him down. “I’m not dating this Ricky guy. That’s final. Nothing you can do or say will change my mind.”

Famous last words. Little did you know that you’d be eating that very statement by the weekend.

ONE OF THE PRIVILEGES YOU’VE GOTTEN FROM SUCKING UP TO YOUR PROFESSORS SINCE FRESHMAN YEAR IS HAVING FULL LIBERTY OF USING THEIR OFFICE AS A HANG-OUT SPOT. The air-conditioning here is better than the classrooms or students lounge. You can even raid their snack pantry as much as you want— grabbing a handful from the candy bowl, now filled with pink wrappers of some strawberry hard candy— and stuffing them into the small pocket of your bag to restock your portable stash. 

“Does Prof Yoon know you’re the one that keeps vacuuming his candy bowl?” 

The question comes from Hanbin, who’s just as shamelessly making himself a cup of coffee with the faculty’s machine. The both of you are regular freeloaders at the office. A well-earned privilege, you’d like to say.

“He knows,” you reply, snatching a box of pepero for good measure. “He lets me get away with it because I’m his favorite student.”

There’s one more freeloader. Hao is sitting on the cushy sofa set funded by the student’s tuition fees, sharing a conversation with Mrs. Lee, and the two of you join him not long after. “You three are supervising some of the freshmen this year, right?” your professor asks, and her question is met with a set of artificial positive responses. “I guess I can look forward to some of their outputs then,” she leaves with a hearty laugh and a hard pat on Hao’s back. You wince.

“Why is an old lady so strong?” he laments once Mrs. Lee is sure to have returned to her cubicle. Hanbin is feeling and probing around his spine in case it got broken.

“I hear she’s a member at the gym Jiwoong goes to,” you say. “Scary woman. Thank god we’re on her good side.”

Complaining about your professors in hushed voices while being in their office is a rare skill the three of you have mastered over the past two years. The two elicit murmurs of agreement with your statement. “Speaking, how are your kids doing?” asks Hanbin. Kids, referring to the eighteen to nineteen year olds under your care for their term project.

Hao takes your pepero stick offer before grumbling. “I don’t get why we have to supervise the freshmen when he have our own assignments and projects to deal with.”

“Because Mrs. Lee will give us extra points for our class with her if we do,” you remind. “Gyuvin is doing the bare minimum. At least he now has a location settled down.” The project is for their required course in community development. The freshmen are tasked to select a rural area in the country and do a needs-based assessment survey on it. You did the same when you were in your first year. Mrs. Lee is also the head of the university extensions office. You three have theorized that she’s just using this annual assignment to update her data inventory.

“Gunwook is too passionate. He wants to go all the way to freaking Mokpo.”

“At least he sounds hardworking,” you say, disregarding Hanbin’s stress over an inevitable five-hour drive. “Why can’t Gyuvin be the same? All he does is set me up with terrible men and barge into my family dinners.”

You say that, but everyone who knows you knows that Kim Gyuvin, despite being generally annoying, has burrowed a soft spot in your heart. Unlike Hanbin and Hao who missed a 40-point quiz for Mrs. Lee’s class to join a random play dance competition at the plaza (they won), you didn’t really need the extra points merit, so you had no intentions on volunteering to be a supervisor in the first place.

But when you caught whiff of the news that your poor, poor younger friend of eight years still didn’t have a senior-supervisor for the project, you somehow found yourself in front of Mrs. Lee’s office cubicle and signed up at the last moment.

Which is also why you’re up at 5 a.m. in front of Gyuvin’s apartment building on a weekend, no breakfast in the stomach, just to accompany him to Gyeongsang for this god forsaken community development project.

“Morning.”

Gyuvin greets you with a yawn and a heavy ruffle on the top of your head, to which you respond with a side kick to his ass when he walks past you. “You’re late,” you scold him, and though you want to continue berating your dear friend, two more familiar-looking people emerge from his building’s entrance. 

“Oh, this is Taerae and Matthew,” Gyuvin informs you offhandedly. The two give you a mix of polite nods and smiles. You sort of know Taerae because you shared a class with him last semester. Matthew is just the guy you see at the campus coffee shop at least once a week. “They’re going to be my survey assistants. More people means more ground to cover at once.”

“How’d he scam you two into agreeing?” you ask.

“He’s buying me lunch for a week,” Taerae replies.

“I just wanted to go on a road trip,” Mathew says in a tone too bright for five in the morning. 

You let out a huff of air. Your backpack is getting a little heavy on your shoulders, and all you want is to finally reclaim your lost weekend. Meaning, getting on the road as soon as possibly is priority number one. “So, are we commuting?” you ask. “We should get going then.”

“Oh, no,” Gyuvin replies. He’s already noticed your impatience, and has found himself standing behind you, taking your bag off of your bag so that you don’t snap at him for the next statement he’s about to say. “Actually, we’re waiting for one more per—”

A car horn cuts him off. 

“Well, nevermind. He’s here.”

At that moment, a way too expensive looking car drives up to the porch of Gyuvin’s college-level priced apartment building. This is looking way too out of place. Matthew lets out a whistle when the car stops in front of you. “This kid just got his license exchange and the first thing he does is show off,” Taerae snorts. What...what does he mean? Is this your ride? Is this the (at least seventy-thousand-dollar) vehicle that’ll be driving you all the way to the outskirts of Hadong County? 

The variables don’t click, but your surprise doesn’t end there. Because the person that emerges from the expensive looking ass car’s driver’s seat is— by far— the prettiest person you’ve ever seen in your twenty-one years of life.

Whoa.

Not even those thick, dark shades can obscure that god-sculpted looking face. They only make his nose bridge look even sharper, and you’re trying your damn best not to stare at those full and cherry-painted lips. Holy shit. Platinum blonde has always looked tacky to you, but now you have to re-evaluate. Oh my god. Kim Gyuvin has a friend that looks like this, and all he’s done is set you up with guys that can’t even fucking compare.

Walking statue of a man closes the car door behind him with a click. “Get in,” he says. Holy mother of god, you’re light-headed. Your brain is fuzzy. You’re about to pass out. 

“Ricky! You’re late! How dare you keep the madam waiting?!” 

Things start happening a little too quickly.

Wait a second—

“Shotgun!” 

That name.

“Fuck off! Let’s play for the seat!” 

Sounds Very.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot! Rock, paper, scissors—”

Very—

“Paper, scissors— shoot!”

—familiar.

“Dammit,” Matthew grumbles in defeat, joining Taerae in the backseat. You stare at the fist you have held out since earlier. Rock. Rick. Ricky. This guy’s name is Ricky. Isn’t that also the name of Gyuvin’s best friend? The best friend he was trying to set you up with? This is Ricky? This absolute god of a fucking man who’s looking at you with an ounce of confusion, still holding your fist up after somehow winning all rounds of rock, paper, scissors with nothing but a rock, is the Ricky you turned down a date with?

You were correct to assume that his name gives off fuckboy vibes. The problem is, he looks like a really, really hot fuckboy who you don’t mind ruining your life in exchange for three months of fun. Shit. You think you just made eye contact with him through his thick-ass sunglasses. He nods a little with a small, awkward smile before disappearing back into the driver’s seat. 

Fuck. He knows. He definitely knows you wrongfully rejected his ass without even meeting him. Gyuvin, that snitching son of a bitch.

“Hey.”

With a heavy grip on his shoulder, you stop the said snitching son of a bitch before he can escape into the backseat. “What?” Gyuvin raises a brow. The audacity of this guy.

“What was your best friend’s name again?”

“Ricky Shen. Shen Quanrui. Shim Cheonye. Pick one.”

“Is that...the same…?”

“Yes, that guy is Ricky.” There’s an impatient honk from the car. You pay no mind, more concerned about the absolute fucking catch you totally drove away, and that regret is seeping through you expression, failing to wiggle out from Gyuvin’s notice. “Why do you ask?” Are you regretting turning down my offer last week? his face seems to say. You want to hit him. Yes, you are fucking regretting it, but there’s no way in hell you’re giving him the satisfaction of knowing.

“It’s just a little awkward,” you say. “Can you switch with me?”

“Matt hyung’s gonna throw a fit if I take your seat,” he simply hums, opening the door to the front seat on your behalf with a courteous bow that drives you further into annoyance. “Now hop in. We’re already behind schedule.”

You’re the bigger person here so you decide against throwing a tantrum. Begrudgingly, you enter the passenger’s seat, trying to ignore aphrodite’s reincarnation sitting right next to you, and prepare yourself for the three-hour drive or torture because you totally screwed over your chance of having him.

“Woohoo! Road trip!”

“We’re here for my project, idiot.”

“Please tone it down, I’m trying to sleep.”

It’s fine, you cross your arms, wiggling uncomfortably on the soft seat. It’s totally fine. None of Gyuvin’s friends have been decent so far. Yes. You shouldn’t judge positively too quickly. Maybe the only thing this one has going for him is his face. Maybe his personality is just as shitty as the last ones and you’ve completely dodged a bullet.

A very pretty bullet. The pretty bullet is looking at you through the rearview mirror. Oh god, why is he looking at you? He’s got his sunglasses down and those eyes are practically staring into your soul.

“Um,” Ricky clears his throat. “You should put on your seatbelt.”

That rasp shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. Fuck. This man is a walking heart hazard. “O—oh, sorry!” You’re stupid. Your brain is fried. You fumble with the dumb seatbelt, forgetting how it works, and mentally swearing at yourself in the process.

“Do you need any help…?”

Fight or flight instincts kick in. You smack away Ricky’s attempt at a helping hand. His eyes are wide in shock. Your eyes are wide in shock. You want to throw yourself out of this vehicle right now. “It’s—it’s fine!” Finally, you manage to put on the seatbelt. Ricky is a mix of confusion and offense when he starts the car, more on confusion, but that’s alright. The aftermath of him pulling a k-drama move and helping you with the seatbelt would have been worse. You would have disintegrated right then and there.

Your only source of comfort is the backpack that you’re hugging for your dear life. The entire ride is excruciatingly awkward because the three boys at the back have fallen asleep— a state you also wish to be in right now, but that’s quite frankly impossible because you’re a million times more conscious about your physical appearance right now with a literal angel next to you. 

He’s not asking why you’re pressed so far up against the door. For safety reasons, you tell yourself. The air around him just subconsciously feels a lot hotter despite the air conditioning literally blowing cold air to your face.

“Would...would you like some?”

But that doesn’t mean you could stomach this awkwardness, either. Two hours have passed and neither of you have said a word to each other. You’re a fistful into your candy stash and it feels rude not to offer anything to him when he’s been driving for so long. 

You have a cautious arm outstretched, a pink wrapper dangling between your thumb and index finger. Ricky peers down for a split second, a rumble from his throat before saying, “N—no, it’s okay.” The candy disappears into the crevices of his car. You dip your head down, trying to feel around for it, and Ricky continues talking. “Um. I mean. You don’t really have to force yourself to get along with me, seonbae. I already know that you don’t really like me.”

At that moment, you snap your head up. “What?”

Maybe you should’ve been more careful because you scare the shit out of Ricky and the car swerves off the lane.

Screech!

“Ah,” he exhales, parking the car at the edge of the road after nearly killing you all. “That was close.” How the three kids in the back are still asleep is beyond you. They’ve got their necks twisted in all the weird places and you’re pretty sure Matthew is drooling.

But the source of your adrenaline right now isn’t the near death experience.

“What do you mean you know that I don’t like you?”

Translation: what exactly did Kim Gyuvin say to this guy?

“You...turned down the blind date Gyu tried setting up,” he says. Well that’s because Gyuvin never showed you a picture of his face! Instead of using useless words to try and convince you to say yes, he should’ve just sent you his instagram and called it a day. “This car ride must be awkward for you, sorry. I’ll try to get to Hadong as soon as possible.”

He’s sweet and polite too! God, you’ve completely screwed it over. You spend the rest of the car ride overthinking and feeling sorry for yourself. The moment you arrive at your destination, you eject yourself from the car instantaneously. “Alright, we’re wasting daylight. Let’s get moving!” you clasp your hands together, hurrying your barely-awake lackeys into the town. 

With five people, the surveys and interviews get done quicker than expected. At one point, while you were surveying a marketplace owner, your attention got inadvertently distracted by spotting Ricky from the corner of your eye helping out an old lady with a cart and you nearly had a meltdown. Again, why didn’t Gyuvin introduce you to him before your impression of his friends got screwed over by Jaeryeong and Hajun and all the fucking rest?

“What a sweet boy,” says the marketplace owner. He is a sweet boy. That sweet and insanely handsome boy could’ve been yours (not guaranteed).

“Hey!” Gyuvin snaps you out of your daze. You look up, crouched underneath the shade of a tree. One of the locals was kind enough to give you a tour of their plum fields in the village, but you’re a little too rattled to actually appreciate the green scenery. “The ahjumma gave us some plums to taste!”

“You’re a bad person,” you suddenly say. Gyuvin’s face distorts in offense.

“Well, if you don’t want any plums, you can just say so, meanie.”

Maybe you are a meanie, but you’re still not over everything today. While the four boys are fucking around from a bit of a distance, you’re still crouched down and absentmindedly petting a stray cat and moping. Matthew says something you can’t hear, and the three burst out laughing— only the three at first, because Ricky looks lost for a second, blinking with a dumb smile, before joining their laughter only a beat late. 

Oh no, he’s cute. Oh god, you’re falling. Oh man, you’re a goner.

“Time to go home!”

It’s around four in the afternoon when you finally finish. You’re all gathered around Ricky’s car again, ready for another grueling drive back to Seoul. “Go sit in the back. I’ll drive this time,” says Taerae to Ricky, and there starts another rock, paper, scissors battle for who will take the front seat.

Unlike earlier where you won without even realizing there was a game, you lose even after praying to all the gods you know.

“Nice!” Matthew cheers, not even giving you a shot of negotiation because he quickly disappears into the car. You’re looking at Gyuvin, painted in shock and disbelief. Before you know it, you’re wedged into the backseat, in between the two men you’d like to be around the least at the moment. 

Yours and Ricky’s shoulders are touching. This is worse than earlier. He looks just as uncomfortable as you are— arms resting on the open windowsill, head uncomfortably craned away from you and giving you a full view of the tattoo trailing down his neck. Something snaps in your brain. This is your nth breakdown of the day.

“Let me in your candy stash.”

Gyuvin gives himself the liberty to zip open the front pocket of your backpack while you’re hugging it in your seat. The sound of you swatting his hand away seems to catch Ricky’s attention, so you give up defending your property and let Gyuvin snatch a handful of the strawberry-flavored sweets from your bag. “This tastes gross,” he says with a grimace. “So artificial. Blegh.”

You suddenly hear a gasp from your left. “How can you say that?” You’re shocked to find out it’s from Ricky. He’s been relatively quiet all this time. Gyuvin sure knows how to get into everyone’s nerves. “Take it back.”

“I’ll take it back if you dye your hair black for a day.”

A harmless fist zooms in front of your face. “Now way.” Ricky is hitting Gyuvin.

“Gross, this is so gross.” Gyuvin is hitting Ricky back.

“So what.”

“I’m telling your mom about this.”

Your existence is forgotten and your breathing space in between these two relatively large men has significantly diminished. Your face is burning. You can’t do this anymore so you clear your throat, causing Ricky— who’s leaned a little too close, fist in the air mid-punch— to suddenly tuck himself back into his side of the car. 

It becomes quiet again when Matthew and Gyuvin slowly doze off to sleep.

Gaze flitting to the front, you notice that Taerae is quite preoccupied with swearing at another car that just overtook yours. You take this as an opportunity.

A slight nudge to his arm, you hold open your palm without looking at Ricky. It’s a handful of the strawberry flavored candy he was so staunchly defending against Gyuvin earlier. He might’ve rejected your offering earlier, but you’re damn bent on ending this day by fixing his impression of you, even if it’s just a miniscule improvement.

He’s got his head trained down, staring at your offering with a face laced with a mixture of surprise, confusion, and uncertainty before a hesitant hand plucks out a single wrapper from the pile. “Thank you,” you hear him say softly, and you don’t miss the tiniest smile playing on his lips when the sweet touches his tongue, poking against the inside of his cheek and you feel somewhat offended because a damn piece of candy can elicit such an expression on his face when you can’t. 

It’s not stiff like the numerous bouts of awkward eye contact you’ve been sharing without end. It’s not forced. It’s not uncomfortable.

It’s an expression that makes you feel all the more regretful because you probably won’t be seeing him ever again after this.

“Did you see that guy?! He honked at me! He fucking honked at me!”

But maybe that’s a good thing. Because maybe then, you’ll be forced to stop lamenting the chance you completely wasted. 

MAYBE YOU SPOKE TO SOON. It’s the afternoon of a Friday, not even a week after your one-day trip to Hadong County. And Fridays are your cheat days to take a dip into your allowance for some well deserved milk tea at a bougie cafe next to your university.

What isn’t part of your usual Wednesdays is the inexplicable, one in a million chance that you’d be bumping into Ricky Shen again.

“Oh.”

You’re about to enter. He’s just about to leave, pushing open the door with one hand and holding a bright pink drink with so much whipped cream which looks particularly out of place against his all-black ensemble. The only common denominator between the both of you is the look of surprise you’re both sharing.

Ricky recovers before you do. He steps aside, giving you space to walk in while holding the door open. How the bare minimum is making you weak in the knees, you have no idea. “Th—thanks,” you give him a smile and walk forward, before putting yourself to a stop and spinning around. “Oh, wait. Have this.”

You dig into your pockets and drop three pieces of strawberry candy onto his hand. You don’t miss the way his eyes sparkle. “Thanks. See you around.” He leaves. You feel like you’re on top of the world.

From now on, you’re gonna stuff all your pockets with strawberry-flavored candy (courtesy of Prof Yoon from the faculty office) until Ricky gets brainwashed that your presence doesn’t bear awkwardness or discomfort, no— you are a good person. Your presence brings with you strawberries and sweetness. That one psych class you took last semester is finally proving itself to be useful. Ricky will fall in love with you through Pavlov and classical conditioning.

Is this ethical? Probably not. Will this work? You don’t bet on it, but his cute smile makes it all fucking worth it.

That is if a miracle happens that you somehow end up seeing more of each other. You sigh, waiting for the buzzer to receive your order. You remember that Ricky is a freshman, meaning you have zero chances of sharing classes with him, and your only mutual friend is Kim Gyuvin. You’d rather kill yourself than give him the satisfaction of knowing that you have a crush on his best friend.

Well, there’s also Matthew and Taerae. After your trip to Hadong, you somehow got added to a group chat with the two of them. “Same age friends have to stick together!” says Matthew. You’re not sure if you’re already at the point of calling them friends, but you are having dinner with them later, so that’s something. But no matter how much you want to gush about your feelings for the light-haired boy, you don’t think you can out yourself to those two just yet.

The buzzer vibrates in your hands. You stand up to get your order, only to be stopped by a familiar face that you’re not quite happy to see.

“I—I didn’t follow you here, I swear!”

Your expression sours. That last time you saw him was approximately three months ago— when you threatened him with a fake restraining order after Gyuvin and Hanbin helped you move into a new apartment.

“Jaeryeong.” You feel your blood pressure rising from the mere utterance of his name. “Is a restraining order not enough for you? Do I have to put you in jail so you can finally learn your fucking lesson?”

He looks rattled. “I heard— I heard from Siyun that the document is fake!”

Well, damn. You click your tongue. You thought it’d work for a little while longer than this. Maybe you should get a real RO next time. “So does that give you the right to keep stalking me, you damn creep?” You’re getting a headache. This guy’s appearance just makes you miss Ricky even more (gentle remember that Ricky probably doesn’t give a shit about you, nor does he think about you as much as you’ve thought about him within the past six days of your acquaintance).

“I really didn’t follow you here! This was just a coincidence!” 

“Sure,” you wrinkle your nose. “Was breaching my privacy and following me all the way to my parents’ place a coincidence too?”

Maybe riling him up is a bad idea, but you’re not exactly the best at interpersonal relationships (case in point, Riky Shen). But this is also a public place, so if he does pull anything dangerous, one of the cafe patrons is likely to take a video which you can use against him. Jaeryeong has his jaw clenched, visibly grated. “Look, I came up to you today to try and clear our misunderstanding, but if you keep on being a little bitch, then—”

“Then what?”

You’re surprised to hear a much welcomed voice from behind you.

“What are you gonna do?”

The last person you expected to swoop in and save you from this clingy freak is your senior who’s been out of reach for months now because he’s dying in post-grad. 

Kim Jiwoong suddenly tucks you behind him, wearing the facade of intimidation to scare off Jaeryeong— which, for some reason, ends up working because he runs off without much of a fight. “I’ll— I’ll talk to you later!” he says before leaving. Jiwoong lets out a sigh and turns around, looking at you with both disappointment and concern.

“You shouldn’t provoke guys like that. Who knows what could’ve happened to you.”

“I could’ve handled it even without you, seonbae,” you tell him. His gaze softens. You give him a bright smile. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

You know that Jiwoong is incapable of getting mad at you. The both of you catch up in the cafe once you’ve finally gotten your drink without any further interruptions. Whatever Gyuvin is to you, that’s who you are to Jiwoong. He was your project supervisor when you were a freshman, randomly assigned by a roulette, and somehow, you two still keep in touch two years later.

The both of you settle on a table inside the cafe. “How are your classes?” he asks. You reply with a bitter grunt, and that’s enough of a response for him to laugh and understand.

“By the way,” you rouse, spinning the remnants of the drink in slow spirals. “Seonbae. You’re close with Gyuvin, right?”

If your memory serves you right, you’ve seen them talking a couple of times with each other before, eliciting your utter confusion before ultimately finding out that apparently, they attended the same local dance studio before along with Hanbin and Hao for a period of time. “Well, sure,” is Jiwoong’s reply. That was just the lead-in question to your actual main question, which is—

“How about...his best friend?” you add. “Are you close with him too?”

You can see it in his face. He’s connecting the dots. You’re fiddling with your drink cup, nervous. The moment things click, Jiwoong unleashes a knowing grin.

“Are you crushing on Ricky?”

Well, damn. He didn’t need to be so blunt about it.

“And—and—and what if I am?” Smooth. Very smooth. You clear your throat, tugging on your collar to let some air in while Jiwoong stirs his americano with the straw, chin resting on his palms, evident amusement playing on his face. “So, anyway. I’m taking that as a yes— you are close with him.”

“Sure,” he hums. You want to sock him in the face.

“Well, is he anything like Gyuvin’s other friends,” you question. “Like Jaeryeong, or Hajun, or that one guy that told me to ‘sit pretty and shut my mouth’ because that’s what a woman ought to do?”

“No, no. Ricky isn’t anything like that,” he replies. “He looks a little intimidating, but he’s a nice kid. I don’t even think I’ve ever heard him raise his voice at anyone.” Ricky does seem pretty soft spoken and it’s hurting your heart. This doesn’t go under Jiwoong’s radar. He laughs at your misery and your shoulders slack. “His only flaw is his overconfidence, I think. Next time you meet him, you should compliment his face.”

No, but confidence is attractive. Overconfidence must mean extra attractive, right? Yes? “Thanks for the tip,” you grunt. “But can you not tell Gyoob that I sort of have a thing for his friend?”

This brings Jiwoong’s brows to a furrow. “Isn’t he hell bent on marrying off Ricky?”

“Yes. Well. There was a situation.” You don’t intend on telling Jiwoong about the said situation for the sake of your pride. He looks curious, but thankfully he doesn’t try to prod. The only thing that matters right now is that Ricky is Jiwoong-approved, and that’s good enough of a reason for you to pursue him under Kim Gyuvin’s nose. “Anyway, please keep this a secret.”

“What’s in it for me?” he asks.

“The continuation of my respect,” you flatly reply. Jiwoong, again, laughs and assures you that his lips are shut and sealed.

SOMEHOW, YOU’RE INVITED TO A BARBECUE DINNER AT MATTHEW’S BACKYARD. How long have you known him? Two weeks. Who else is invited to the dinner? His friends of two years the least. You’re not sure how you ended up here. Maybe you’re more charming than you thought. Maybe that’s why you keep attracting weird men.

But Matthew isn’t weird. He’s a little loud and a little too energetic for you to keep up with sometimes, but he’s nice, he’s polite, and you’d introduce him to your cousin if he’d let you. 

You show up to his front door step with a convenience store bag full of canned beer. You’re still not sure what the occasion is, but alcohol is always a good gift. “You made it!” Matthew greets you with a half-hug, and upon entering the premises of his home, you spot Gyuvin giving you an unabashed look full of judgment while Matt takes your present out of your hands and into the cooler in the backyard.

“Since when were you two so chummy?” Gyuvin asks with narrowed eyes as he leads you to where everyone else is. 

“Scared I might replace you in your friend group, Gyu?” you taunt.

“No. I’m scared of being the middleman again if Matthew hyung falls in love with you,” is his painfully honest answer. The yard is smoky and warm, familiar faces here and there— Hanbin being one of them, who graces you with a look of confused concern upon hearing Gyuvin’s words. “Hyung, you don’t understand my pain. I keep setting her up with my friends, but they’re never good enough for her. At this rate—”

At this rate, you’re gonna be needing a warning whenever Ricky suddenly appears in front of your vision— one of the people you preemptively deemed ‘not good enough for you’ only for it to bite you in the ass.

In fact, he may be too much for you, because for a second there, you had the presupposition that he might be walking up to you. That delusion is quickly evaporated into the barbecue smoke because he’s looking at Hanbin, not you.

“Hyung,” he says. “Woong hyung needs help with the grill.”

“Oh, I’ll be right there.”

In between, Gyuvin has somehow disappeared, leaving you alone with Ricky and the unreasonable amount of feelings you have for him. It’s been a good week since you’ve last seen him. He’s wearing a thick red jacket and that same look of awkwardness whenever you’re around. “Hello,” he greets you softly with a nod.

“Hi,” you do the same. It’s excruciating. It’s painful. There’s a sizzle in the air, music from the stereos, and the loud, rambunctious noises expected from a group of eight, nine boys. Yet it’s everything quiet in between the both of you. 

But after that tense greeting, there’s a shift in his gaze, a change in his posture. He’s clearing his throat, balancing himself on the heels of his feet with tightly pressed lips resembling that of a smile— almost as if he’s expecting something from you.

Oh, you realize. Oh, he’s too cute.

Without much of a thought, you dig into your coat pockets. 

“Hao!” you call out in a hurry, running off to the long picnic table where the rest are all gathered. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy. “There’s still two faces I’m not acquainted with yet. Who’s this?”

While Hao introduces you to Gunwook and Yujin, your eyes flit over to the spot you’d left behind. Ricky is still standing there. He’s staring down, eyes trained on his cupped palms. “Ricky, come carry the cooler!” Taerae yells out for him, snapping him out of his daze. There’s a faint tinge of pink painting his ears when he strides off, fists closed with the same shade painting his knuckles. Your pockets are a lot lighter now. If you were him, you would have quite honestly fallen for yourself. 

Dinner starts. You ask Yujin why he’s friends with a bunch of old men. “They’re obsessed with me,” is his reply, and you can’t debate with that. Not when five of them are suddenly yelling at Jiwoong for saying you should all play some drinking games to heat things up. It gets settled when Yujin and Gunwook are given glasses of apple juice, and the word ‘gorae’ is now being repeatedly thrown over the table.

One thing you’ve noticed is that Ricky is always a beat and half slow. It’s stupid adorable. Gyuvin passes the never-ending whale baton to him and he just continues the beat without saying anything, looking around like a lost cat, before letting out a noise and collapsing against Hanbin the moment he realized he just lost.

That’s it. You can’t take this anymore. He’s pocket-sized. You’re stuffing him inside your pocket. It doesn’t help that his flushed face makes him look exactly like the strawberries he loves much— matching the red of his jacket, and it’s driving you insane.

“You really do have a massive crush on him.”

Jiwoong invades your alone time once things have settled down a bit. You’re in the living room, sitting cross-legged on the floor right in front of the sliding doors to the backyard. No, you’re not sitting here because it gives you a nice view of Ricky chasing Gyuvin around with his jacket as a makeshift weapon. That’s not true at all. “Say it louder, will you,” you grunt when he takes a seat next to you, hitting the corner of your beer can with his before he takes a swig.

“I don’t have to. Not when you’re already practically outing yourself with your staring.”

You frown. “I’m not that obvious.” You double take. Then bite the inside of your cheek. “Hey. I think I’m screwed.” 

Jiwoong shakes his head with a laugh. “Ricky is cute, isn’t he?”

Case in point, him doing that scrunchy face, gummy smile, when he suddenly bursts out laughing. You nod somberly. All Jiwoong does is make fun of your demise. 

Still, you think you’re being subtle enough. Ricky is slow. He told you this was his strength and weakness when Gyuvin asked you to tag along with them on a shopping trip one time. But for someone who’s usually programmed to be in slow motion, he sure is quick to catch onto things when you don’t want him to.

“Seonbae.”

His voice is soft, unassuming. You’re both standing in front of Gyuvin’s apartment one late Friday afternoon. You’re holding open one of his hands, cupping his knuckles from underneath— something you’d never have anticipated to have the privilege of doing maybe three, four weeks prior— dropping five pieces of candy onto his palm without much of a thought. 

“Yeah?” you hum. 

He closes his hand and stuffs the fistful into his coat pocket, a completely blank and innocent face, before asking— “do you like me?”

Now, this wasn’t in your monthly fucking bingo.

You stifle back a choking noise, completely caught off guard. “H—huh?” Jiwoong was right. His only flaw is his overconfidence. You have no idea how to slip away from this unscathed. “What— what makes you say that?”

Ricky blinks at you. “You always give me snacks.” You’re pretty sure candy doesn’t qualify as snacks, but you digress. “Don’t...don’t they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?”

Unfortunately for him, you’re swearing by a different psychological tactic. “W—well, I always have a lot of candy with me! For my blood sugar, you know?” you sputter out the first excuse you can rummage from your short-circuiting brain. “And...and after finding out you liked strawberries a lot, it would be rude and selfish not to give you any if I have them, right?” 

Right? Please agree. Please stop asking any more questions. Ricky is pondering over your words, seemingly deep in thought with pursed lips, until those said pretty lips part open to say, “Oh. Oh, I get it.” You don’t know what he gets, but you roll with it. “Then again, it also doesn’t make sense if you like me.”

The fuck does he mean that it doesn’t make sense if you like him? You’d kiss his face right here and now.

“You turned down that date, after all.”

Insult to injury. He doesn’t know that was the biggest regret of your life. You bite down your tongue and exhale sharply. “Ah. Don’t overthink it, Mr. Shim,” you tell him, finally knocking on Gyuvin’s door after standing in front of it for a good ten minutes. “Overthinking causes stress. Stress will give you wrinkles.”

“It’s okay,” he says, turning over the door upon hearing a click. “I’m still handsome when I’m stressed.”

You breathe out a sigh. This is the man you’re down bad for. This is the man you’re helplessly pining for.

“I think you’d be more handsome with black hair.”

Surprisingly, that statement comes from Gyuvin and not from you. He opened the door just at the right moment— an unimpressed look on his face upon seeing his unannounced visitors. “Why have my Friday night invaders tripled?” he laments. Tripled? You don’t ask and let yourself in despite his protests.

“I’m here to check on your term paper,” you inform, kicking off your shoes at the entryway.

“I’m here to play games,” says Ricky, doing the same.

“I’m here to play games too.”

For some reason, Gunwook had the same idea as you two to terrorize Gyuvin’s sacred Friday nights of solitude, but managed to act on it before anyone else. He’s already settled on the floor of the living room like it’s his own, legs outstretched, switch controller in his hands. “Hyung, let’s play!” he calls out to Ricky. Gyuvin reluctantly tells you to sit down before he grabs you two drinks from the kitchen. 

“You know what, I forgot to ask.” Gyuvin settles down two glasses of juice onto the coffee table with a suspicious eye directly zeroed in on you. “Why were you two together outside?”

“Seonbae and I happened to meet each other downstairs,” explains Ricky. Which was true. You did somehow bump into each other at the building lobby, Ricky nearly closing the elevator in front of your face in the process.

“Right. I told you I’m here to check on your paper, and I’ll be off once I do exactly that,” you tell him, mentally thanking Ricky for the save. “You had a month to write so it better be decent. Give me your laptop.”

Gyuvin smacks his tongue, but does as you say anyway, while the other two boys loiter around the floor and fuck around with Gyuvin’s switch that’s connected to the TV. They’re playing a Mario game. You pay them no mind, ignoring the non-human noises they make once Gyuvin reappears with his laptop. He warns you that this is still his first draft, but you didn’t need that premise. The first page isn’t even formatted correctly. You’ve got your work cut out for you.

“Hey, hey, move over! Let me play—”

Again, you pay no mind to the noise. It’s mostly coming from Gunwook and Gyuvin because Ricky is quiet when he’s focused— in this case, focused on hopping over some goombas. He’s got a thin pair of glasses perched on his nose, lips pursed unconsciously into a noot noot, and fuck he’s so cute, and — no, you’re not paying attention to him. You’re paying attention to your junior’s paper. You’re proofreading. Simply proofreading. You highlight some errors here and there, marking some corrections. 

Yet again, you don’t pay attention to the noise Gunwook and Gyuvin are making—

“Ah. I’m killing Gyuvin’s brothers.”

—but Ricky suddenly makes a quiet remark, and you snort very, very loudly in response.

You slap a hand over your mouth. That wasn’t funny. That wasn’t funny at all and the other two didn’t even seem to hear it. “Why are you laughing?” Gyuvin looks at you, offended by the sound you just made. “Did I write something wrong in the analysis? Why are you laughing?”

“N-no, it’s just—” Your throat rips into a cough because it’s not easy to suppress a fit of chortles. Ricky looks so proud of himself, you’re going to cry. You’re near choking and Gyuvin hops onto his feet and makes a beeline for you in a flurry.

“You’re so mean! Give me back my laptop!”

This isn’t a misunderstanding that you intend on clearing up, so you let him run off with his laptop back into his room to revise in private after you’ve disrespected his work. Gunwook stretches up too, saying that he’s off to buy some snacks outside. “Do you want anything?” he asks. Ricky is feeding you his juice and patting your back because you can’t stop coughing. “Okay. Ginger candy. Got it.”

Gunwook has left. Gyuvin is holed up in his room. And the fact that you and Ricky are alone in the living room right now isn’t helping the state of your lungs. “Are...are you okay?” Ricky, the sweet, sweet angel, asks with those giant boba eyes and soft voice. You want to bite down your sleeve and chew it right off.

“I’m—I’m alright.” No, you’re not. You’re sitting way too close on the floor, knees bumping, and the game over screen being reflected on the television right now is a perfect rendition of what’s going on inside your head right now. “Whew. I’m fine. I’m perfectly okay.”

You honestly have no idea how you’ve managed to keep it together these past couple of weeks. You don’t know how you haven’t jumped this guy yet. The video game is forgotten, and Ricky is scrolling through his phone. He’s wearing a melon green sweater which, objectively, is an ugly ass color, but Ricky somehow pulls it off and looks extra fucking soft in it and you’re not god’s strongest soldier.

He lets out a soft laugh, notices you staring, and tilts his phone and scoots closer for you to see a dumb Tik Tok video. Your shoulders bump. You make a comment that fails to register to your own ears. “By the way,” he starts. He places his phone face down on the tabletop. Whoa, this is a little dangerous. He shouldn’t be pouring all his attention into you like this. “Are you free this weekend?”

You blink. Your brain is jumping into conclusions. “Why?”

“Well,” he fumbles with the tips of his sweater paws. You’re going to eat him. “My uncle’s resort is opening a new branch, so there’s an opening party. Everyone else is coming, including Gyuvin. It’d be nice if you can come as well.”

“Oh,” you open your mouth. You’re a little surprised. “Thanks for the invite, but I don’t think I’m fit for those kinds of events, you know?”

This is quite a bit of pressure. Ricky tilts his head, failing to understand what you mean for a second, but when he does he exclaims, “oh! Don’t worry. We don’t have to join the formal event. We can just eat dinner and mess around at the beach. The actual party will be boring, anyway.”

“Ah.” He’s an angel. He’s so sweet. It hasn’t even been long since you’ve somehow been absorbed into their tight-knit group. You’re not sure how it even happened.

Well, you were already friends with half of them separately. Gyuvin has been buzzing around you since he was eleven and you were thirteen. Hanbin and Hao have been your academic ride or dies ever since you met them in the first week of classes. Jiwoong has been a force you could lean on the moment he took you under his wing for your first major project in university.

And Ricky— 

“Tell me if you want to come,” he smiles. “So I can reserve a room for you.”

Maybe this was bound to happen eventually.

“I’m done!”

Gyuvin has finally emerged from his room, stomping back to you and Ricky before slamming the laptop on the table before you. “I edited it. No more errors now. Praise me,” he says proudly. You give him a suspicious glance, sliding the device closer to you. “This one’s good, right? Tell me it’s good. Don’t laugh. Laughing isn’t constructive.”

Ricky is curious and pokes his face closer to yours, and you flinch. “You misspelled ‘debilitating,’” he says. You gasp. Ricky, once again, looks so proud of himself. Gyuvin wants to die.

“Give it back—” 

He snatches the laptop once more and starts aggressively typing next to the both of you. At the same time, Gunwook finally returns with a bag of miscellaneous snacks. “Seonbae, here you go,” he tosses a full bag of ginger-honey candy to you, which you now have no use for because you have stopped coughing.

“Thanks,” you gruffly say. When you stuff it into your bag you notice Ricky staring at you. “Do you want some?” you ask. He doesn’t answer your question but says something else entirely.

“You don’t need that anymore.”

Your eyes widen when Ricky snatches the bag of candy from you. He promptly opens it— moving quicker than you’ve ever seen him before, and rips open a piece before tossing it into his mouth. 

You’re in shock. What is he doing?

“Hey, that’s not for you!” Gunwook protests. Ricky responds by simply pelting him with another piece. Gunwook is speechless. Then retaliates by throwing a candy bar from his 7-Eleven bag to Ricky’s chest. It bounces onto his lap. Ricky grabs another piece of candy to flick at Gunwook. They start fighting. Gyuvin notices the fun and abandons his paper to join in. 

This isn’t how you planned your Friday to end up like. Then again, you didn’t plan on developing a crush on your friend’s best friend either, so you can’t really say anything else.

HANBIN HAS BEEN WAITING IN YOUR BUILDING’S PARKING LOT FOR A GOOD TWENTY MINUTES NOW. You’re already late for the event, so might as well make the most of your tardiness. I’m still getting ready, you shoot Hanbin a text. You keep messing up your fucking eyeliner, and there’s no way in hell you’re showing up to that damned, bougie ass event in front of Ricky with assymetrical eyeliner. His are always perfect and you don’t want to lose to that.

“Dude, we might miss the buffet!” 

It’s Matthew yelling at you when the tinted front seat window rolls down as you sprint— heels on, mind you— to the car. “The place is a resort! They’re never running out of food,” you yell back while throwing the backseat open and then throwing yourself inside.

You’re breathing quite heavily. “Are we ready to go?” asks Hanbin, and you shoot him a thumbs up. You’re too busy catching your breath to notice Yujin also co-occupying Hanbin’s car. 

“Noona, how long did it take for you to get ready?” he asks.

“Three hours,” you reply with a grunt. It’s a little hot so you open the windows, letting some air in. You can’t risk your makeup melting. You need to be extra pretty tonight to stand a chance against all the rich people flooding that place.

“Really?” Yujin does the same. “I can’t tell.”

You’re speechless. You hear Hanbin swallow down a giggle. Matthew isn’t even trying. This highschooler just roasted your ass. You need to put him in his place. “Why are you out here on a weekend?” you click your tongue. “You should be using this time to study.”

“I study enough already,” he protests.

“What was the Gyeongbokgung palace used for during the Joseon Dynasty?”

Yujin freezes. “Wow,” he says robotically after a significant pause, just as mechanically turning his head to the window. “The night air is so fresh.” 

You don’t grill him further because Yujin is right— there’s something different about the wind wafting through the atmosphere tonight. You let yourself sink into the carseat, let the breeze cool your cheeks, eyes fluttered close, until you reach your destination. The resort is far off from the city— the seaside, obviously, but you don’t see the shorelane just yet. Only a towering building illuminated with warm flushed lights as the car drives up to the entrance, surrounded by ferns and foliage and an air of complete refinement.

The foyer floor is so shiny that you can see the chandelier reflecting from it. Are you allowed to step on this? Is this legal?

Upon entering the function hall however, your nerves become nothing. You already see a handful of people being completely, strikingly, and obviously out of place. All for different reasons.

You see Gunwook near the live band, somehow holding a conversation with two men that appear to be twice his age. Gyuvin and Jiwoong have comparatively way too much food on their plates as they camp right by the buffet. Hao is currently talking to a security guard while a suspicious looking vase is sticking out of his pocket. The only person that would be blending in well right now would be Taerae— if he wasn’t wearing that bright purple suit ensemble.

Damn. You shouldn’t have been worrying so much about being a fish out of water. These guys are way worse than you.

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

But of course. There’s one guy that looks like he’s completely at home. 

Matthew greets Ricky’s arrival with a half-hug, and the other two boys do the same while you respectfully stand and stare. Respectfully. Yes. You pay no mind to that dangerously unbuttoned-button down under than dangerously low-cut blazer. You are the embodiment of peace and serenity and giving him your business as usual smile. “Hey,” you say. “Sorry we’re late.”

When Ricky returns your stiff smile with one of pure ease and kindness, you swoon like a fucking loser. “Yeah,” Yujin inserts. “She was taking so long to fix her face.”

Your smile stiffens further. “I did not take so long, haha, what are you talking about.”

Yujin gives you a look. “You said you took three—”

And there goes your hand over his mouth to shut him up. “Haha. Let’s go eat, Yujinnie. Didn’t you say you were starving?” Yujin muffles something out. You pinch his arm. “Thanks for the invite, Ricky! We’re off to sweep the buffet now!”

“Wait—”

You book it. Well. As fast as you can book it with these damned heels and with a large shoulder bag weighing you down because you’ll be staying here overnight for free. Does the bag match your dress? No, it does not, but you don’t know where your room is and you’re not well enough to talk to Ricky at the moment, so you suck it up and stress-eat at the buffet table with the Yujin you kidnapped. “Why were you so embarrassed, noona?” he innocently asks while stuffing his cheeks with some meat skewers. “You look pretty tonight and it’s all thanks to your hard work.”

Who has been teaching him these backhanded remarks? Who has been negatively influencing this child? You grunt and put a scoop of mashed potatoes on his plate, much to his displeasure, and continue eating your own damned meal.

“Hey, can you take a photo of me?”

The moment you’re done with your not so pleasant meal, you’re skewed away by Matthew who wishes to hire you as his photographer. After that barbecue dinner last time, Matthew swore that you take the best photos of him and his entire IG feed for the past month is credited to you. 

You look at him, displeased because you’re not wearing the appropriate attire to lay on the floor to ensure the best angles. “Go stand by the window.” Still, you take his phone from him and make do with what you can. “What’s your password again?”

“Hao hyung’s birthday.”

“Got it.”

Now, stretching your legs and getting into various lunging positions aren’t easy to do when you’re wearing a long and silky dress. But you are a woman of commitment, and your bag is weighing you further to the ground as you take a low-angle shot of Matthew. “Okay, now hold your necktie. Now look away— perfect. That’s it. Next one.” When you try to get up, gravity decides that it hates you. You wobble on the stilts of your shoes, nearly stumbling back, but you feel someone grab onto your arm and pull you up before your ass kisses the ground.

“Whoa, please be careful.”

It’s Ricky. Of course, it’s him. When you look up, he’s got his eyebrows knitted together out of concern, strands of light wavy hair perfectly falling over said eyebrows and your breath hitches in your throat a little.

He’s got his other hand held out, and he’s probably expecting you to take it to balance yourself to your feet, but you refuse to be a predictable woman.

Instead, you give him Matthew’s phone and help yourself up. “Thanks. I’m fine. Just slipped a little.” You have no idea why you’re acting coy right now. Maybe it’s because he’s being a little less cute tonight, being a little more dangerous instead— flinching the moment you feel his feathery touch on your shoulder as he removes the weight of your bag from your person, before passing it to an attendant that he calls over with a single look.

“Can you bring this to Room 207? Thank you.”

No, no, no, this is too much. This is too much for you. Why is he trying to be smooth? Why is he trying to swoop you off your feet without taking any responsibility?

“Hyung, I’ll take your photos instead,” he says to Matthew, who’s been watching the spectacle unfold and you pray to god that your unsubtle thirsting wasn’t too noticeable. Matthew doesn’t say anything about it, though. You assume you’re in the safe zone because all he’s doing is complaining when Ricky takes way too zoomed in photos of his face. “This is a new trend. Just trust me.”

“Sure? Okay, go on.”

You take this as an opportunity to escape, only to be called by Gyuvin back to the buffet table because, “have you tried their gambas?! This shit is fire!”

When an old guy took the podium, you all took this as your cue to exit— scattered off either to the beach, bar, or your Ricky-sponsored rooms. You have an entire room for yourself because there’s no way in hell you’re sharing a room with any of those stinky boys. Your exhaustion is aching for a shower, and so you grant its request, and by the time you’re done freshening up and changing into a more comfortable set of clothing, you receive a text from Hanbin that they’re all gathered at the beach.

“Ah. The wind is cold.”

Wearing a thick jacket out was the right choice indeed. You stuff your hands into your pockets for warmth, feet sinking into the sand as you watch the mess before you. They’re all either running around, drawing things on the ground, or lounging on a picnic blanket under the starlit horizon. “Sit,” says Jiwoong, tapping the empty spot next to him, and you oblige with a yawn. “It’s only eleven. Can’t believe you’re sleepy already.”

“I’m getting old,” you tell him, letting your head drop onto your shoulder as you hug your knees. The rest are by the shore or in the water. You have no energy to join in at this point.

Jiwoong makes a distasteful noise at your statement. “What does that make me?”

“A fossil.” You yawn once more, craning your neck to bury your face into his arm. “I’m so tired.”

He chuckles. “Are you fine with Ricky seeing you like this?”

“Please be quiet.” This time, you sneeze. Right into the sleeve of his shirt. Then you sniffle. “He’s not even here.” Jiwoong is disgusted. He tips you off, picks up your wrist, and uses your hand to wipe off your ‘germs,’ or so he says.

“You’re lucky he didn’t see that. Where is he, anyway?”

The question is answered by Gyuvin when his energy finally gets exhausted from splashing around, flopping onto the blanket next to you and Jiwoong. “He was still in our room when I left,” he says, out of breath. “I think he wanted to rest for a while.”

Gradually, the rest start to gather too. “We haven’t taken a group photo yet,” Hao brings up. “He’s gonna sulk if we take one and he’s not here.”

It’s as if you just got recharged with a full eight hours of sleep.

“I’ll go get him,” you say, promptly standing up. “I need to pick up something from my bag, anyway.” Total lie. Jiwoong sees right through your bullshit and his teeth are showing through his smile. You flip him off and start making your way back, stumbling when Hanbin asks if you want him to accompany you, bringing back the hop in your step when Gunwook tells him, “she’s a big girl, she can handle it herself.” You’ll get back at him for that later.

Two-one-three, two-one-three, two-one-three, you repeat the room number in your head as you go down each door in the hallway, ringing phone glued to your ear to inform Ricky that you’re going to barge into his room, but he’s not picking up. Maybe he’s asleep? Probably. There’s no response when you knock on the door and slot in the key Gyuvin gave you, and you’re met with dim lights and an eerie silence the moment you crack open the door.

“Ricky?” you call out. There’s no response.

The light from the hallway leaks in to illuminate an empty bed. Huh. Where is he? What rouses even more questions is the odd positioning of what should be a bedside table, for some reason positioned at the foot of the bed and a few feet away from the open bathroom door. There’s also a mishmash of things stacked on the table— books, folded shirts, magazines, and some of which have fallen and scattered to the floor.

But those aren’t the only things on the ground. 

You quickly bring a hand to your mouth. “Oh,” you wheeze out. “Oh my god.” You try to cover it up with a cough, but it’s too late. A snort managed to slip through. 

“Stop laughing,” he protests from the floor. How could you hold it in when Ricky is right there, lying curled on the ground while hugging what seems to be his knee, bathrobe-clad, with papers and magazines scattered around and on top of him. A memo sheet is stuck on his cheek. His back is turned to you. His buzzing phone with your contact name on it is next to his head.

How the hell did he end up here?

“Are—are you okay?” you manage to say as you crouch down next to him. He doesn’t budge when you try to roll him back. He lets out a grunt and tells you to leave him alone. “I can’t, I was ordered to pick you up. What are you trying to hide? Why won’t you look at m—”

When you finally roll him to his back, you realize why. 

“Oh no.”

Ricky’s got a hand hovering over half of his face— the wrong half because you can very clearly see the red gash running down his right temple, but that’s probably not what he’s intending to hide. He’s got his brows in a sad and shameful furrow, glaring eyes refusing to look at you, and you can see the shades of pink coral and pink on his cheeks, slipping through the gaps of his fingers. 

He’s pink. He’s so pink.

“Don’t laugh,” he grumbles. “It’s not funny.”

You might as well eat him whole, holy fucking shit.

“N—no, you’re right. It’s not funny. I’m not laughing.” 

You’re damn near about to break into a coughing fit again with how hard you’re trying to suppress your giggles. Based on the evidence laid down at the crime scene— namely his still damp hair, scanty bathrobe, misplaced furniture, and the mess of it all— Ricky was likely trying to take post-shower thirst traps while Gyuvin was still out so he wouldn’t be made fun of. 

Slipping and hitting his head on the table’s edge in the process was probably not part of his calculations. You fear you might’ve been the unintentional cause of this because you gave him a surprise call earlier.

“Let’s get you up, big boy. Grab my hand.”

Begrudgingly, he lets you pull him up. You instruct him to sit on the bed while you call room service for a first aid kit. The wound on his forehead doesn’t look serious, but you decide to apply some ointment and put a bandage on it just in case. He winces when you clean the dried blood off with water. God, he’s too fucking cute. Your gushing is ruined by an incoming call.

“Hanbin,” you greet, wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder because you’re still trying to patch up the poor boy. He scrunches his nose when the ointment touches his wound. “We’ll be there in ten minutes. A minor accident occurred. No, you don’t have to come up here. Ricky is physically well and alive.” You can’t say the same about his emotional state though. He’s been quiet and frowning this whole time. “Say hi, Ricky.”

You pass him the phone. He looks at your phone wielding hand, a contemplative expression, then takes it. “Don’t come,” is all he says to Hanbin at the other end of the line— a little too gruffly for your liking— before tossing it off somewhere onto the bed.

Ricky’s eyes snap up to look at you. Maybe you’ve been taking this situation a little too lightly.

“Is it done?” he asks in that same tone of voice, and— oh. Oh, no. You’re in a tight spot. Figuratively and literally because Ricky is leaning back against the bed, you slightly leaning into him because you’re simply, very innocently trying to bandage up his temple, and the most comfortable way to do it is having a knee propped up on the mattress, face hovering dangerously above his. 

When you unavoidably make eye contact, you flinch and feel your bones rattle.

Oh. 

Your gaze falters and your swallow down your dry throat, watching as the bathrobe slips down from his left shoulder in real time. That’s it. You’re gone. Your brain has stopped working. You’re starting to miss cute Ricky who gets excited over your strawberry candies. Where is he? Where did he go? This Ricky is a little dangerous. This Ricky feels like he’s going to fucking eat you alive.

“Y—yeah. One sec.” You’re not sure if you even managed to secure the bandage on his wound because the moment your skin touched his, you immediately flung yourself back from a ghost burn. “Did...did you hurt yourself anywhere else?” you ask. He shouldn’t be looking at you like that. Why is he looking at you like that?

The brief silence that follows swallows you whole. 

“I’m not sure. Can you check?”

Then spits you right back out because crazy fucking bastard— what the fuck does he fucking mean by can you fucking check? 

“Oh, um.” Dry. Your throat is dry. Does he want you dead? Is that it? Does it not matter whether or not you get out of this room alive? You don’t like this— whatever this is because you don’t know what’s wrong with him tonight. Did he get a concussion when he fell? Do you have to go take him to see a doctor? 

Maybe it’s you that needs to go see a doctor. Because you’re pretty damn sure that this heart rate is nowhere near normal.

Knock, knock, knock.

“We’re coming in.”

Karma acts quickly because you stumble back and nearly collapse into the floor as well. The door cracks open and you grab onto the nearest thing for balance, which, in this case, is a curtain you almost tug off from the window out of sheer force. “Ricky slipped and hurt his head,” you blurt out the moment Hanbin and a few others enter the room. Ricky’s face drops into betrayal. Self-defense. You needed a diversion.

Taerae and Gyuvin are the ones that came with Hanbin, the former taking a long look at the room and its inhabitants. “Oh,” he says after acknowledging the mess on the floor and the bandage on Ricky’s forehead. “Okay, Humpty Dumpty.”

Gyuvin lets out a snort. Ricky chucks a pillow in their direction. Thank god for their interruption because you don’t know what would have overtaken you had they come five minutes later. “No wait, did he really slip?” Gyuvin asks, a little too giddy and giggly about the whole ordeal. “Dude, did you fall over while taking thirst traps?”

And you’re subsequently kicked out of the room while Ricky gets dressed into something more decent and gets made fun of by Gyuvin and Taerae. 

“Took you guys long enough.”

You’re all back at the beach now with a grumpy Ricky in tow. Gyuvin immediately runs off to snitch on his best friend’s misfortune to the rest. He’s sulking, you notice, face down and hands stuffed in his pockets as the cool breeze flutters his hair in its embrace. “Quit making fun of him!” Hanbin scolds, and you spot Jiwoong’s expectant expression to tell him what you were up to alone in Ricky’s room.

Nothing  You were up to nothing, you send the message through your glare. You could’ve been up to something had those three not interrupted, but would you have survived that? Your eyes flicker over to Ricky, who’s trying to push Gyuvin off him— traces of the tension and danger from the hotel room completely gone without a trace that you fear you might have just been imagining it out of the sheer feeling of want you harbor for the guy.

“C’mon, let’s take a picture!”

Before you know it, you’re gathered by the shore in a bluf, feet sinking into the sand, and you feel yourself bump into Ricky at the very moment the camera flashes to capture the scene.

“Hey, this one came out nicely.”

It did. You’re not sure about the rest, but this photo deserves to be tucked into your wallet and kept in a capsule. 

Ricky is standing next to you, the tight frame leaving no gap or space in between. You’re both smiling a little awkwardly. It’s cute. You keep staring at it until your attention is pulled away by the very man himself.

“You owe me something,” is Ricky’s introduction when he saunters over to you. You raise a brow, closing your phone. Looks like he’s finally gotten over what happened earlier. Gyuvin has finally stopped teasing him by moving on to messing with the sparklers Gunwook brought. You can hear their shouts and laughter from afar, but it’s all muted down.

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

He takes out one hand from his pocket, an open palm outstretched. He’s looking at you expectantly in wait. You break out into a soft laugh and shake your head. Maybe your candy-related scheme worked a little too well.

“I didn’t think I was contractually obligated to do this now,” you hum, fishing out a few pieces of candy from your sweats before dropping them onto his hand. “Maybe I should stop.”

“You can’t just start something by yourself and suddenly stop all by yourself. That’s not fair,” he complains, accepting your offer. “You have to take responsibility.” Only if he takes responsibility for your poor and shriveling heart. His tone is light, a smile playing on his lips, and at this point— you’re sure this isn’t just a crush anymore. You might just be a little in love with Ricky Shen.

YOU HAD NO IDEA HAO WAS SO INFORMED ABOUT PROF SHIN’S MAKEUP PREFERENCES. It’s her birthday this upcoming week. You three freeloaders need to keep sucking up so you can maintain your office privileges, so you decided to buy her a present. Hanbin is unavailable, so it’s just you and Hao browsing the boutiques downtown, and you narrowed down your scope (and budget) to just buying her makeup.

You pull out a bright red lipstick from the display and show it to Hao. “What about this one?” you ask. Hao puts on a look of disapproval.

“She doesn’t like wearing bright colors. Maybe something more on the nude side would be better.”

Well damn, okay. You put the rejected stick back with the rest of its friends. The next one you pick out is also rejected because it’s glossy. “Prof Shin prefers matte,” he further reasons. And now you’re starting to question exactly how and why he knows this. Hao doesn’t humor your queries, though. You settle with a nude Laneige matte lip and a matching blush as a bonus.

“We’re done here, right?” Hao asks after you two pay for the gift.

“Hold on.” You’re stopped by a certain item on display near the check-out counter. You’re convinced that you’ve definitely gone off the deep end at this point. The thoughts blurring inside your head the moment you laid eyes on the strawberry-flavored lip gloss for sale are a little too insane, even for you. You’re not buying this. You don’t even use gloss. This is crazy.

“Thank you, please come again!”

You exit the store with your gift for Prof Shin and a new lip product. You are stressing yourself out.

The buzzing of your phone forces you out of your existential crisis. It’s Gyuvin messaging the group chat. “Hey,” you tap Hao upon reading the message. “We don’t have anything else to do right? You said you have extra gift boxes at home.” When Hao asks why, you show him Gyuvin’s message.

[gyubie cutie: no one wants to send off ricky at the airport with me? :( damn i really am his only friend].

You reply that you and Hao are on the way. You know that Ricky is leaving for a quick vacation to Shanghai today (two weeks before the semester ends, mind you) after an impulsive decision involving alcohol the other day with you and a few of the guys. At one point they suddenly became all emotional and the topic of their families were brought up. Ricky woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and a phone screen that tells him his flight has been booked. 

“Well, I guess I’ll just go,” he said over hangover soup and aspirin, as if he doesn’t have exams in two fucking weeks, and as if Shanghai is just a bus ride away. Sometimes, you’re surprised with how easy going he is. The flight is at an awkward time— Thursday mid-noon, so it’s no surprise that no one else is free to see him off. You didn’t mention anything about wanting to send him off and neither did he ask you to, so you thought why the hell would you do that unless you want to expose your ass full of feelings. But Gyuvin presented the opportunity. Who are you to turn it down?

“Over here!”

You spot Gyuvin waving at you two from a distance with outstretched limbs. You preemptively grab a handful of candy from your pocket— battle ready because it’s been getting harder and harder to pass these to him subtly as of late with the amount of eyes constantly on you— but you don’t find the mop of blonde anywhere, even when you’ve finally reached Gyuvin’s spot.

“Has Ricky left already?” you ask, brow raised. You’d be pissed if Gyuvin baited you two here only for the guy to have already left.

“No, no. He’s here,” he assures. “He’s around here somewhere. He bought some snacks not too long ago, but some girl stopped him to get his number. I lost him because seeing him get hit on made me gag so I had to look away for my safety.”

Well, that’s both assuring and not. Then you remember you have no right to be jealous because Ricky Shen, as suspiciously as he may be behaving as of late (case in point, accidentally seducing you in a bathrobe the other week), he is still not your damned boyfriend.

“Oh, there he is.”

Ricky who is not your boyfriend arrives, and the first thing he does is make you feel so fucking sorry that he isn’t.

“Whoa.”

No wonder you weren’t able to spot him right off the bat. His attention-seeking light hair is gone. No, he hasn’t shaved it— he dyed it freaking black and he looks so fucking good. “Oh, uh,” is how you greet him. The words have completely dried out from your throat. Ricky is looking at you expectantly. Your mouth is hanging open pathetically. “Wow.” Your eloquence is award winning.

He laughs. He wants you dead. “Does it look weird? I needed natural hair for visa requirements.”

“N—no,” you sputter out. Gyuvin goes on to brag that he was right that Ricky would look great in dark hair and Hao proceeds to try and touch said hair, only to get his hand smacked by the hair-owner, while you’re still temporarily incapacitated to say or do anything. You don’t get to say anything, because the clock strikes twelve-twenty, and Ricky has to go

“Have a safe flight, dummy,” Hao bids Ricky off with what you can only describe as a glomp, only to be assaulted by Gyuvin immediately after. You’re standing there awkwardly like a fourth-wheel, hands tucked behind your back because you can’t find the timing to say your farewells, and you missed the timing to pass the candy to him earlier after being so rudely jumpscared by his new look.

When Ricky finally manages to swat and push them both off, his eyes flash over to you. Your mouth curls into something sort of a smile— you’re not completely sure. Ricky takes a step forward to engulf you in an embrace.

Oh. Oh, so we’re doing this now, you think, eyes flying wide open in surprise with a pathetic squeak. “Thanks for seeing me off,” he murmurs softly, and you can feel his voice vibrating into your skin and penetrating your bones. You can’t even reciprocate because he locks your arms tightly against your own body, and you feel his fingers unclasping yours behind your back, allowing him to take the strawberry pieces you intended to give, before pulling away with a dumb grin. “Want anything when I get back?”

You try to blink away the violent shock tremors you’re feeling right now. “I’ve— I’ve always wanted to try the sun cakes there.” Deep breathes. You’re normal. You’re totally normal.

Ricky takes his carrier from Gyuvin, sending you a small smile. “I’ll buy you a hundred.”

“Don’t overdo it,” you let out a breath. God, he drives you insane. “Safe skies. See you when you get back.”

The moment Ricky boards the plane, Gyuvin turns around to ask you two what you should have for lunch. “Why are you so happy that your best friend is gone?” you ask with narrowed eyes the moment you three settle with the first food place you see at Terminal 1 of the airport. “Do you secretly hate him? Is that it?”

“He’ll be gone for two days max, give me a break,” he grunts. “And tomorrow’s Friday. That means I can get the whole evening and weekend to myself without anyone barging into my apartment.”

Your friend’s joy is reflected with how energetically he’s inhaling the bowl of stew. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m gonna do a progress check on your paper tomorrow.” Gyuvin sets down the bowl, looking at you like you just sentenced him to prison. Hao is minding his own business and enjoying his meal. “What? Don’t tell me you forgot that your deadline is in two weeks. I’m checking it tomorrow, so make sure it’s at the very least decent.”

When Gyuvin tells you to stop nagging because it reflects your age, Hao had to stop you from throttling the man.

Anyway, the day passes and you’re at Gyuvin’s apartment to check on his paper. 

“Why are you smiling at your phone? Damn, she’s finally lost it,” he says over another meal. You finished giving him your feedback and decided to just have takeout dinner with him. While eating, however, you received a text from Ricky— a photo of his own meal and a thumbs up above the plate of skewers. It’s been a day, but you can barely feel his absence with how he’s been texting you every hour from the moment he landed.

[ouricky: (photo attached) touchdown ✌️].

[ouricky: (photo attached) this looks like u].

[ouricky: are u asleep yet?]

[ouricky: gyuvin told me ur at his place. tell him to eat shit for me].

[ouricky: (photo attached) dinner w my sister 👍 our meal is better than yours].

“What the hell, did you get a boyfriend?” You look up from your phone to find a very judgemental Gyuvin. “After rejecting all my attempts to set you up for romance? This is a personal attack. You’re buying ice cream later.”

If only he knew you were texting his best friend. Not that you have any intentions on telling him.

“Hey, why do you smell like strawberries?” Gyuvin asks after your meal, right when you decide to retouch your makeup as you ready yourself to leave. “Is that the candy you always bring?”

“It’s my new lip gloss,” You show off the pink bottle. “It tastes like the fruit too.”

“Whoa, that’s cool,” he snatches it from you, examining it a little too close to his face to sniff it. “Where’d you buy it? Do they have one in mango?”

While trying to convince Gyuvin that he should maybe purchase actual mangoes instead of planning on eating an entire bottle of mango-flavored gloss, you also try to convince yourself that you definitely did not make this purchase yourself to try and seduce his friend. Ricky isn’t even here. You’re not wearing it for him. You’re wearing it for yourself.

“I’m off! I’ll take you to the store next time.”

When you defend yourself and your new lip gloss against Jiwoong’s judgment the next morning, he tells you that Ricky probably doesn’t feel the same way as you do. That you probably shouldn’t think too much of it and hurt yourself with your expectations. But at this point, it’s reasonable for you to start overthinking, right? Right? What does Jiwoong know, anyway? He’s not Ricky’s mother. Ricky’s mother is on a yacht with him right now, and you know because he just sent you a video and you’re damn near the precipice of falling headfirst into the depths of thinking he might just like you too.

“I just don’t want you to get too ahead of yourself and end up getting hurt.”

Assuming you’re right and Ricky does like you back— when the hell could it have started? The barbecue at Matthew’s? That one evening at Gyuvin’s apartment? That night in his uncle’s resort? You have no idea, much like how you have no idea how you somehow got absorbed into their mess of a friend group.

But a few little texts and inexplicable bouts of skinship here and there isn’t enough to set you way too far off-the deep end. The way he looks at you might just be your imagination. Jiwoong could still be absolutely correct and you’re just tripping over your own assumptions.

You’re not that quick to listen to your intrusive thoughts. You’re still a little reasonable. That’s why you haven’t fallen to your knees and blurted out your insurmountable feelings for him yet.

What does set you off to state beyond help, however, is a sudden phone call later that same Friday evening. 

Morning, rather. Specifically at four in the morning— waking you up from your sleep by its incessant buzzing. “Hello?” you groan into the mic, voice still croaky and eyes barely open. “What’s up? Why aren’t you asleep?” You have no idea why Ricky is calling you right now. The moment you hear his voice through the line however, you feel all five of your senses suddenly snapping wide awake.

“I thought it’d be a waste to spend my time here asleep,” he says with a soft chuckle. Oh, holy fuck it’s too early for this. You’re not mentally prepared for this kind of voice from him yet— low, almost a deep rumble, reminiscent of thunderstorms and clouds, only amplified by how he’s practically whispering into the core of your being through the phone. 

You pull your blanket down and roll over to the side to give your heart a chance to breathe.

“Yet you decide to call me at four in the morning instead of doing something more worthwhile,” you click your tongue, and you only hear Ricky laugh in response. “Are you planning on extending your trip? When’s your flight?”

“No, I’m leaving later. I still have to prepare for finals,” he replies. “Flight’s scheduled at 11 p.m.”

“Ah, that’s too bad,” you say. “I’m pulling an all-nighter at the library tonight. Deadline to catch. I don’t think I can see you at the airport this time.”

“That’s alright,” he hums. “Next time you can just come with me to Shanghai.”

You pause. Wait. Wait a minute. “Haha, yeah, it— it would be nice to visit your hometown with the rest of the guys, yes.” That’s what he probably meant. You probably meant all of you— many, plural— not just you and you alone. Haha. Of course.

But when Ricky takes a while to reply, you start to overthink, start nipping on the skin of your lip so hard that blood might draw.

“Yeah,” he says after an awkward beat. “With the rest of the guys. Yeah.”

You really need to hear Jiwoong’s voice of reason right now. Because all you’re hearing is the sound of your own heartbeat inside your ears like a hyperactive drum.

“Anyway, you must be tired. I should let you sleep now,” says Ricky after ruining all your chances of falling back asleep. You can’t. The best you can do is get up before the sun and go on with your busy day so as to not think about this conversation too much.

“You should be the one sleeping,” you manage to reply. “Don’t forget my sun cakes.”

“Mhm. G’night.”

Crazy. This man drives you fucking crazy.

You don’t return to sleep after that.

“Okay,” is Jiwoong’s expert opinion after telling him what happened later that same evening, having dinner with him at a McDonald’s near the city library. He’s put his kiddie meal on pause while you were telling him about Ricky Shen and his demonic antics at four in the morning. He’s got his elbows on the table, fingers interlocked, and staring at you with a look so serious he might as well be diagnosing you with a disease. “I think you’re right,” he continues. “Maybe he does like you.”

The shriek you let out is almost inhuman. 

Jiwoong’s lips quirk into a smile and he goes back to eating. “I told you! I told you I wasn’t overthinking things! My lip gloss purchase is justified!” you proclaim. Jiwoong tosses a fry into your mouth to sedate you, and it works for a few chews until you start yapping again. “But, god, now what? He’s returning later or tomorrow. I have no idea how to face him.”

Your phone vibrates a message. “Is it Ricky?” he asks in an attempt to tease you, but all your face does is turn sour upon reading the text. “No? Who is it?”

“Woong,” you say, setting your phone on the table. “Are you busy this evening?”

He furrows his brows. “I was planning on writing my paper. Why? Is there a problem?”

“Great. You can work with me at the library the whole night.”

When you slide your phone over across the table, Jiwoong understands. 

[jaeryeong: can i see you tonight? please? it wont take long. i just need to make things right]. 

“He’s a persistent fucking cockroach.”

You grunt, taking back your phone. “You should report him,” he says, and you’ve completely lost your appetite. “Screenshot his texts and block his number. I’ll accompany you to the station if you want to handle this legally.”

“No, it’s fine,” you scrunch your nose. He’s a wimp, according to his ex-friend Gyuvin, so you’re sure he isn’t gonna hurt you or anything. And your exams are coming up, so you don’t want to deal with processing this entire thing while you’re already academically burdened as is. “Be my bodyguard for the night. If he tries anything, I can just throw you at him and run away.”

Jiwoong doesn’t approve of your methods, but doesn’t argue anyway. After eating you both finally head to the library where you’ll be cooped up the entire night— tucked in the corner in your own respective cubicles. 

Your friend’s worry starts stirring whenever he sees you check your phone every hour or so. He pulls back the desk chair upon noticing the serious look on your face, turning over to your direction in concern. “Is Jaeryeong texting you?” he asks. “Did he follow you here? Should I call the police?”

“No,” you reply. “Ricky sent me a photo of him at the airport. He’s wearing ear muffs. He’s so cute. I can’t do this anymore.” 

Jiwoong’s face falls to an expression reminiscent of death and stops talking to you after that.

Well. You have been receiving texts from Jaeryeong, but you haven’t opened them in case he gets motivated by the fact you’ve read his messages. You still don’t know how he and Gyuvin ended up being friends, but then again, Gyuvin was friends with a group of delinquents in high school. He wasn’t part of the group. He just thought their vibe was cool.

“Hey.” 

It’s twenty minutes past twelve, Ricky is probably still on the airplane, and you haven’t eaten anything since your 6 p.m. dinner. You poke Jiwoong’s arm, to which he blatantly ignores. “I’m gonna get something from the vending machine. Keep ignoring me and I won’t buy you snacks.” He says nothing but follows you when you get up, and you sneer at the man following you with a silent tantrum. “Quit sulking,” you tell him as you punch the numbers for coffee on the machine. “You’re not cute enough for that.”

“I’m sorry for not being Ricky,” is the first thing he says to you after two hours of silence. “You’re wearing that scheming lip gloss again, but he’s not even here.” You frown. He laughs and takes your place in front of the vending machine by cordially bumping his ass into yours the moment your drink falls down the chute. “Your phone’s flashing by the way. I think Ricky’s calling.”

You look down, bringing up your phone, and sure enough calling ID “ouricky” is giving you a call. 

He’s calling. He is calling you.

Your eyes flash back up to Jiwoong, widened in surprise. 

Why is he calling you?

“Did he send a message in the group chat that he arrived?” you ask, suddenly panicking as the phone relentlessly vibrates in your hand. “He didn’t, right? Why would he call me first? What time is it? Wasn’t his flight just an hour ago?”

“For someone who’s been pretty confident that Ricky likes you back, you’re sure acting funny,” he hums, leaning against the vending machine and taking a sip from his cold brew while you’re having a mental breakdown. “Answer it. Go on.”

“‘I’m scared!” you exclaim. “What if instead of saying hello I end up blurting out that I’m in love with him and ask him if he feels the same way?!”

You take too long to make a move so the phone line gets cut off. But when Ricky calls again, Jiwoong wastes no time to snatch your phone from your hands, click answer, and put the damn thing on loudspeaker for the entire fucking world to hear. What the hell are you doing? your scrunched up face says to him. Doing you a favor, his arrogant eyebrows reply. You attempt to snatch your phone back, arms in a desperate move to retrieve to device—

“Hello?”

—but they freeze mid-air at the sound of Ricky’s voice blurring through the speaker.

Jiwoong grins. You slowly get your phone back and press it to your ear. “Yes. Hello. What’s up?” You give Jiwoong the nastiest glare you can muster, but flinch back the moment you hear Ricky’s voice again.

“Are you still at the library?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You elbow Jiwoong when he laughs at your sudden switch-up. “Why?”

“Come down.”

What?

“I’m outside.”

It’s almost stupid how your body starts moving on its own. 

The cold air bites your skin the moment you break past the doors, met by the dim sky and muted sight of the empty plaza square outside the library entryway. But it’s not completely empty— no. Ricky, who’s supposed to be still on the plane ride back to Seoul, is standing five feet away from you, eyes flickering up from his phone the moment you arrive, a slow, soft smile blooming on his face and cheeks.

You see the suitcase next to his feet. Jiwoong’s words echo in your head— maybe you’re right, he said, maybe he does like you. It’s not just a maybe anymore. It’s not just your mind making things up.

Ricky, who is supposed to be in the air halfway between Seoul and Shanghai, went straight from the airport to the city library just to see you.

You’re usually the one doing dumb things because of him. This time, it’s not you. 

It’s him.

“Hey, are you crazy? Did your flight schedule change?” You stomp towards him, closing the gap between the both of you with big strides and quick steps. “Why didn’t you update us? Jesus, you gave me a scare when you said you were here.”

Ricky’s only reply is a laugh, and your intent to scold him more gets stuck in your throat and you stumble a little when you abruptly halt right in front of his feet. You look at him, batting your eyes in an attempt to blink away the possible pink and hazy filter you’re seeing him with, but it doesn’t work. He is just this pretty. He is just this dreamy. He is just soft and soft and soft when his eyelashes flutter above his big, dark irises as he looks at you, when his stained hair frames his face a little too perfectly, when the corners of his lips lift ever the slightest to resemble a smile.

“That’s not how you usually greet me,” he says. “Aren’t you going to give me anything?”

Your heart stirs. “What?” Aren’t you supposed to be the one asking that? He promised to buy you a hundred sun cakes, and you’re pretty sure those won’t fit inside his one suitcase. “Oh. Oh, wait.” You pat around your pockets, only to realize you left all your candy in your bag back with Jiwoong. 

“Sorry,” you tell him, feeling a little guilty. “I was in a rush to get down. I wasn’t able to bring any with me.”

Instead of responding with disappointment, Ricky just hums and leans a little closer. “Really?” He suddenly nudges his face into yours, noses bumping, and your eyes widen in surprise. “But you do have something else.”

He’s close. His face is hovering a little too close to yours to be smiling cheekily unaffected like that. You can feel his warm breath on your lips and you’re starting to feel dizzy. 

“It smells sweet,” he says and you think— oh. He’s not good for your heart.

Maybe it’s because he’s officially driven you to the breaking point of being crazy, or maybe it’s because the cold has completely frozen all the sane parts of your brain, but the words you’d usually keep tucked between your thoughts and confidentiality suddenly come stumbling out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“Do you want to know if it tastes sweet too?”

You gasp after realizing what you just said. You look at Ricky with a face aghast with surprise, jumping back because holy fuck— why did you say that? Why? You’re crazy. You’re stupid. You bite down your bottom lip and taste the dull flavor strawberry mocking the tip of your tongue. You’re insane. You have officially lost it.

If you were Ricky, you’d probably call yourself crazy too, but he doesn’t do that.

Instead, he does something even crazier by taking your offer and pressing his lips against yours.

It doesn’t register that Ricky just kissed you until after the fact, and you’re staring at him with wide, blinking eyes, lips feeling fuzzy, head afloat beyond reach, and him— at an arm’s length away— eyes averted with pink strawberries dusting his cheeks, much like the color slightly glazing his lips, as if he wasn’t the one who just pulled your trigger.

He ran his mouth about taking responsibility the other day.

You’re going to show him responsibility with your mouth.

“S—sorry, that was too sudden, I just— mmph—!”

Two months of pining after him come crashing down the moment you pull him by the collar to finish what he started and god— his lips are softer than you thought, sweeter than you thought, and it’s not just the strawberry lip gloss smudged between your teeth and tongue, melting into what you can only describe as the best fucking kiss in your entire life.

Ricky pulls away to breathe. You chase after his lips once more in a short-winded daze, only to stumble into his chest and he catches you by cupping your face to press another kiss to your mouth. “Ah. This is bad,” he murmurs between barely parted lips. “I don’t think the candy is gonna cut it anymore.”

For a second there, you thought he was gonna say that you’re a bad kisser. 

“You should greet me like this from now on.”

YOU WAKE UP THE NEXT MORNING VIA SUFFOCATION FROM THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE AND A TEXT MESSAGE FROM A PESTERING RAT. Blurry eyes and barely conscious, you try to roll over on the bed but physically cannot with how Ricky is squeezing your torso with his arms, his nose buried against your nape as he curls up into you from behind. 

You cannot move. You try your darndest to wiggle an arm out because your phone is incessantly buzzing on his bedside table— the only thing from your belongings that you brought with you last night because your haul to the library was left behind with Jiwoong, who’s probably the one texting you right now for ditching him.

When you finally retrieve your phone however, it is not Jiwoong who’s texting you.

It’s Jaeryeong. Squinted eyes read [how could you replace me with a grey-haired twink???] and [don’t even dare try contacting me, bitch] and the first thing you feel is confusion. Then you remember that Jaeryeong is a freak and probably followed you to the library that night, and saw you making out with Ricky in front of a public educational building.

Well. At least that stopped him from bothering you again. The question now is whether or not you should tell Ricky about this. 

“I’m going to kill him.”

You do tell him, in between washing his hair in the bathroom to get the remnants of spray stains out of his hair because Jaeryeong’s comment pissed you off. “I’m gonna kill him the moment I see him,” says Ricky with a lovely towel wrap on his head. You’re looking at him through the mirror and the scary face he’s trying to put on is promptly negated by his spa-day look.

“Do you even know what he looks like?” you raise a brow, freeing him from the towel head to reveal a damp mop of light hair. You throw away the muddled towel and grab a fresh one to dry his head.

“I’ll ask Gyuvin,” he says, face covered by the towel, and you snort.

“I think we’ll have a problem with that. I was kind of hoping to keep this secret for now.”

Ricky suddenly throws his head back, causing the towel to fall to the floor and the top of his head bumps into your stomach. “Why?” he asks, upside down, big brown eyes staring right into your soul like a premeditated attack shooting you square in the chest. He can’t pull this move. That’s illegal. 

“Be—because Gyuvin is annoying and he won’t let me hear the end of it,” you manage to say. You’re not going to fold. You’re not going to give in. “You know how I turned down that blind date with you right?”

The mention of it prompts a frown to tug on the corners of his mouth and it’s the second onslaught against your heart. “Right,” he huffs, lifting his head up to turn around and face you, looking up with a displeased expression, yet his actions say all but displeasure when he tugs on the hem of your shirt, pulling you towards him so he can lock you in place with his arms around your waist.

“Quit pouting,” you tell him. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. You’re not sure if you’re gonna last a month with him being like this.

“Gyuvin said you thought I was ugly,” he says. “That’s why you said no to the date.” 

All the adoration you feel gets extinguished in an instant.

You have never heard a more blasphemous statement your entire life.

“I never said that!” you shriek. “That’s not true at all! I didn’t even know what you looked like until we met for that Hadong trip that day!”

Ricky winces at your sudden volume and you’re quick to simmer it down and apologize by hugging his head to your torso. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you say. “I turned down the date because your best friend has traumatized me with all the previous blind dates he’s tried setting up. Jaeryeong isn’t the only disaster I’ve experienced. Every single guy he’s set me up with has been trash, so I thought you’d be just like the rest too.”

Maybe this isn’t a conversation you should be having in the bathroom of his apartment, but you digress. Ricky unburies his head and looks up at you once more. “So, am I?”

Again. You’re going to fucking eat him one day. “No,” you cup his face. You’re perfect, you’re an angel.” Maybe if you’d given him and Gyuvin a shot that day, then maybe your first meeting wouldn’t have been as awkward— but either way, regardless of the situation, you’re pretty sure you’d still somehow eventually find yourself falling for this loser.

You lean down, ready to dip into a kiss, only to hear an alarming noise outside the bathroom door.

“Ricky! Why didn’t you tell us you were back?!”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You’re pretty happy that Ricky is quick to listen to your request because he immediately scrambles to his feet and tells you to stay inside the bathroom for the time being. “Hey, he’s not in his room,” you hear Gyuvin’s voice from outside, followed by Yujin suspecting that Jiwoong lied to them, followed by Gunwook saying that Ricky is definitely around, evidenced by his unmade bed and half-unpacked suitcase. 

“I—I think I’d have to lock the door,” he mumbles to you, holding the doorknob and ready to leave. “What if they suddenly barge in?”

“It’s okay. You should go out before they actually barge in while we’re both still in here.” 

Cue heavy knocks against the bathroom door. “Ricky! Are you in there?” Ricky grumbles out a swear and quickly slips out of the bathroom, a click on the knob, and you’re officially locked inside your boyfriend’s bathroom within the first twenty four hours of dating him.

Now, this is just great.

You have the privilege of eavesdropping into their reunion through the muffled audio on the other side of the door. “Who were you talking to?” you hear Gunwook ask.

“My...myself…” Ricky answers, and you feel excessively sorry for him so you decide to repent by cleaning up his bathroom. The problem is, even after you’ve finished cleaning, you’re still stuck inside because for some fucking reason, those three have no intentions of leaving.

“Hey, should we order some food?”

“Oh! Sounds good!”

“Let’s watch a movie, I’m bored.”

[ouricky: i’m so sorry they just won’t leave 😭]

You slump to the floor, back sliding down the shower glass. Maybe...maybe this is your karma for turning him down the first time and asking him to hide your relationship. Honestly, you should have known it wouldn’t be easy to keep things hidden from seven pairs of eyes (Jiwoong knows and has sworn secrecy in exchange of being his research lackey). It’s especially difficult considering you’re chronically touch-starved and must always have Ricky Shen around you to hold. So when you have another barbecue dinner at Mattew’s the weekend before your finals, and when Ricky— out of a newly formed habit— tries to greet you with a kiss on the face right in front of his fucking friends, you panic and end up shoving the poor boy, causing him to kiss the floor instead.

Your mouth is wide open. “Oh. Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Hanbin and Hao hear the very distinct thunk and start questioning.

“Why...is he on the ground?” Hao looks down to see Ricky’s half-alarmed, half-confused face as he half-lifts his body off from the floor. Your face is burning. Oh god.

“He’s repenting,” you say through your teeth.

Ricky tries blinking away the shock.“...Yes...I made a mistake.”

You’re going to lock away your strawberry lip gloss from now on. It’s too hazardous. Hanbin tells you that “friends should get along” and asks you to help him set the table, leaving behind Ricky who’s being pulled back to his feet by Hao. When you see Jiwoong, who saw the whole thing, at the table looking at you with an insufferable look on his face, you flip him off.

“Are you in a bad mood today?” asks Hanbin as he passes you a stack of paper plates. “You keep butting heads with the boys.”

You’re speechless. You can’t even defend yourself if you wanted to so you resign to mumbling out a bitter apology and equally bitterly start arranging the plates on the table, much to Jiwoong’s pure and raw amusement.

When you guys start eating, you even make sure not to sit next to him. You are instead sitting next to Gyuvin, and Ricky is sitting in front of him. They’re both bickering over something again— chopstick-fighting against each other over the table while you half-listen to Matthew who’s sitting on your other side, complaining about Prof Shin and her impossible exam coverage as you clean off your plate.

“You took her class last year, right? Which lessons did she focus on?” he asks.

“Review the most recent ones. I think she just took five or six questions from the earlier lessons,” you reply, grabbing a slice of the gyukatsu you bought and heated up as a potluck, and absentmindedly place said slice on Ricky’s plate.

It gets quieter all of a sudden.

Ricky, Gyuvin, and Matthew are all looking at you— one more alarmed than the rest, and the realization drains all the blood out of your face.

“Yujin, you should try this too!” you try to play it off, placing another piece of gyukatsu on Yujin’s plate, who’s sitting right in front of you. And for good measure you do the same to all of the plates within your arms reach, all while swallowing down the desire to bury yourself into a hole, never to emerge ever again.

“Whoa, thanks.” 

This whole secret relationship thing is harder than you thought, and Ricky is very visibly sulking that you’re giving away his current favorite dish to just about anyone. Looks like you have a grown man that needs to be coaxed back into affection tonight.

Jiwoong tells you that you should just come clean and stop making it harder for yourself. You firmly refuse because even though you are having a lot of trouble and even though you definitely want to kiss Ricky and his pretty face without the fear of getting walked in on by his friends who don’t know the concept of privacy, this set-up is still better than the bane of your existence, Kim Gyuvin, making fun of you until the day you die.

The said bane of your existence treats you all out to another dinner because he finally got his grade for his community development project. He says you have no choice but to come since you’re the reason he got an A.

It’s an easy dinner. You and Ricky even agreed to arrive at separate times with him tagging along with his hyungs, and you chaperoning the children while waiting for the rest of their arrival at the chinese restaurant. The problem comes when they arrive. Specifically, when Ricky arrives because for some god damned, unplanned reason, he arrives wearing the same distinctly floral-patterned short-sleeved button down you’re wearing.

“Oh.”

He doesn’t even fucking wear florals. Why did he decide to switch up today?

Never had you thought that the day would come where you’d be begging to bring back toxic masculinity, but here you are— mouth agape, aghast, and awkwardly standing from your seat at the round table because the shirts are way too obvious to be left unnoticed. 

“Take it off,” you immediately demand. “This is absurd. Take it off and quit copying me.”

“Wow, are you two couple-shirting?” Taerae’s comment stirs a faint blush on Ricky’s cheeks. Why is this idiot blushing? 

“I’m sorry to inform you, but Rik wears it better,” says Gyuvin.

You’re thankful that the same-shirt fiasco ended there. You try to ignore Ricky throughout dinner, but god damn it, Gyuvin is right— that shirt does look pretty damn fine tucked into his slacks and framing his broad shoulders like that and it’s making you angry.

Ricky catches you checking him out from across the table and you catch him subtly smirking. Oh, what a psycho. You’re not letting him off.

“I’m going out for a bit,” you announce, standing up quite loudly with how your chair scrapes against the floor. “Need fresh air. Be back in a bit.” Thankfully, they don’t stop you when you retreat to the cluster of grass and trees and plants tucked in one corner of the outside parking lot of the restaurant. When you take out your phone and prepare to send a message, the person you intended to message has already walked into your field of vision.

Ricky leaves the restaurant not long after you did, looking around the lot until his eyes land on your little corner, a sparkle in his eyes, and he jogs his way right over to you. 

“Ah. Not today.“ 

You hold up a hand in front of your face and Ricky’s nose bumps into your palm when he leans in to get a bite of your lips. 

He scrunches his face, wincing backward, confused. “You have wronged me tonight, Mr. Shim,” you say, dropping down your hand to complete your cross-armed display of beration. “You should reflect on your actions before trying anything funny.” All Ricky does is blink at you with those pretty brown eyes and no— you’re not going to give in. You’re biting down your tongue very hard so you don’t get swayed by those dangerous weapons (said pair of pretty brown eyes).

Ricky takes a step closer, or maybe he tugs you closer to him because you suddenly feel a pull on the belt loops of your trousers, face hovering just a few inches away from yours, pressing his lips together into a pout as he tries to get you to give in to his whims, but you are immovable. You are a mountain. You are this close to squeezing your eyes shut because he’s making it very hard for you right now to not kiss his stupid face.

When that doesn’t work, he resorts to his other weapon. That is, being sickeningly shameless.

“I didn’t mean to wear the same shirt as you,” he says, voice low. “Should I take it off?”

That’s it.

You hit his chest with a closed fist. “Ow!” Then you use the same hand to grab a fistful of that darned shirt and slam your lips against his because who are you kidding? You are not god’s strongest soldier. If Ricky bats his eyes at you and tells you to jump off a cliff, you might just do it.

When you hear him grunt into your mouth— something snaps. You pull him in deeper, other hand fixed on the back of his neck, the taste of strawberries mixing with spit and short breaths and the only time you’re letting him off is when you get lightheaded from the lack of fucking oxygen.

You pull back with a gasp. Ricky is flushed scarlet and his eyes are out of focus. “Wow, um. Uh.” You wipe off the smudged lip gloss from the edges of his mouth. He looks like he’s about to pass out.

“You two are so fucking disgusting.”

The sudden sound of Taerae’s voice feels like a bullet to the head.

Your face freezes. Your neck creaks, turning to the right, and you see Taerae standing a few feet away from you two, arms crossed with a face wound up in revulsion and sheer judgment and now you feel like the one passing out. You feel five years of your life getting scraped off against a sandpaper bed in real time. You want to fucking die. “H—hyung,” you hear Ricky say. “What—what are you doing here?”

“The guys are wondering where you two went, so I went out to check,” Taerae simply says, scrunching his nose before continuing. “I really did not need to see that.”

You feel the heat running up to your forehead. Oh god. Maybe you should’ve learned your lesson the first time you got caught making out with him in public. “I—” you start, a single syllable falling out of your throat before your mouth completely dries up. What are you even supposed to say in this situation? How do you explain to Taerae that this is not what it looks like— even thought this is exactly what it looks like?

“It’s alright. You don’t have to explain. I knew all this time that you two have a thing.”

“Haha.” You’re sweating. You’re sweating so bad. You feel Ricky squeezing your sweaty hand. God, you’re totally screwed. “What are you talking about, Tae?”

“I heard your conversation in the car on our trip to Hadong like two months ago.” 

Well, shit.

“I woke up when Ricky nearly killed us all on the road. You two are the most unsubtle people I’ve ever met. Quit looking surprised. Do I have to mention the way you eyefuck him whenever you’re in the same space? Girl, you’re not fooling anyone.”

You peer at Ricky and he looks a little too happy to hear that. You’re dizzy, you’re nauseous, and you want to sew Taerae’s mouth shut right now. “Does…does anyone else know?” you ask, scared, and you tug Ricky out of your unhelpful corner and start heading back to the restaurant before someone else comes out to look for you.

“Well. I’m not so sure. They’ve never brought it up when you two aren’t around so I don’t think so,” Taerae replies, and you let out a sigh of relief. “I think Gunwook is onto you, but Gyuvin for sure doesn’t know.”

“Oh, thank god.”

Taerae raises a brow. “Why are you even keeping it from him? It’s not like he’s gonna disapprove or get mad. In fact, it’ll be his dream come true since he’s been trying to sell Ricky off since last year.”

The restaurant’s lights get brighter as you walk towards it. “I’m not hiding it because I’m scared he’ll get upset. I’m hiding it because he’s gonna rub it all in my fucking face and I have way too much pride to deal with that, thank you very much.” Ricky laughs. You shoot him a dirty look.

“Okay. I get it,” says Taerae. “You’re not a normal person either. No wonder you get along with everyone.”

“Hyung, that includes you too.”

“I know,” he huffs. You’re in front of the restaurant entrance now, and you make sure to wedge Taerae between you and Ricky for an extra safety layer. “I don’t think doing that is going to help, but whatever. This is none of my business, so you don’t have to worry about me telling anyone that you and Ricky are dating—”

“You and Ricky are dating?!”

Well, shit.

Maybe you’ve been out for too long. Because there’s suddenly seven people right in front of the restaurant doors, probably on their way to look for you, only for you to come walking back and getting absolutely fucked in the ass in the process.

Gyuvin was the one who made the very astute observation. His eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open in disbelief. You shoot Taerae a look. He presses his lips together and feigns innocence. “Oh. What are you all doing out here?” he says. So much for not telling anybody.

“You!” Gyuvin ignores him to point an accusatory finger at you— “and you!” —doing the same with Ricky as the shock completely penetrates his facial muscles. You swallow, eyes flitting over at Ricky and the both of you share the same guilty look. “What do you mean you’re dating? What?! How?! Since when?!”

Gyuvin throwing a fit aside, what bothers you more is how completely unfazed the other six are— even Yujin. What the hell? Jiwoong is given. He looks like he’s having the time of his life. But why the hell is Matthew looking at Gyuvin like he’s about to laugh? “C’mon, man. They’ve been together since the first barbecue dinner obviously. How could you not notice?” he says, and now you’re just as alarmed as Gyuvin is.

“Seriously?!” your poor friend looks betrayed, but you’re in a state no better than him because what the fuck is Matthew saying? He’s way off the mark but have you seriously been this fucking transparent all this time?

“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure they started dating when we went to the resort,” inserts Hanbin, and you’re absolutely at a loss. “The phone call, disappearing off together like tonight— the hotel room. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on, Gyu.” Hao agrees. Yujin nods and says “why else would you spend three hours just getting ready for a lame event,” and you want to melt into the ground.

You can’t do this anymore. You want to go home.

“No!” Gunwook butts in, refusing to be left out. “They’ve been together since that one night at Gyuvin hyung’s apartment! I bought noona a pack of candy for her cough and Rick immediately got jealous. They even showed up together. I’m telling you. They’ve been together for longer than you all think.”

At this point, you have no idea how to diffuse this situation. They’re all arguing about when or how you and Ricky got together. Jiwoong is laughing his fucking ass off. Taerae is trying his best to act like he’s had no part in this. Gyuvin looks like you’ve just twisted a knife into his back. 

“Can...can I say something?”

It’s Ricky who speaks up and puts everything to a halt. They all look at him. You look at him. He clears his throat, slipping past Taerae so he can reclaim his rightful spot next to you, and makes your face flush a thousand degrees when he shyly hooks his pinky finger around yours and says, “You’re all wrong,” he says softly. “It’s only been sixteen days and twenty hours.” 

Oh.

It’s quiet. You can’t look at him. You have your face turned down in a heated embarrassment. You physically cannot look at him and everyone else and the fact that none of them are saying anything is making things all the more worse.

Kill me. Just kill me now.

“Hyung, you’re so lame,” Yujin breaks the silence of dread. And just like that, they go on as if nothing just happened.

“Hey, did we split the bill?”

“Oh, Gyuvin paid for it all.”

“I’m riding in Bin hyung’s car!”

“Thanks for the meal! You three get home safe!”

You’re in a daze. These fuckers just gossiped about your ass and called it a day. 

You’re not sure if you should be relieved or offended that they didn’t dwell any more on the topic of your relationship. They leave you behind with Gyuvin and Ricky, who’s legally obligated to drive you both home, and it’s so eerily quiet that you want to die. “I’ll—I’ll sit in the back,” you say, oddly reminiscent of your first meeting with Ricky, and Gyuvin simply sits in front without speaking a word to you. You fear he might actually be upset that you didn’t tell him.

Oh no. You make eye contact with Ricky through the rearview mirror as he starts driving. Do something. What should I do? I don’t know! I don’t know what to do either! and you cut your conversation short the moment you hear Gyuvin scratching his throat clear, and you jolt and straighten yourself in your seat like a guilty convict on the way to the station.

You end up not doing or saying anything until you finally reach your apartment. Ricky attempts to get out of the car to walk you to your door, but you stop him with one look because you feel bad enough as is to leave Gyuvin in the car alone. “Thanks. You two get home safe,” you say before shutting the door. The moment you close it, however, the passenger door clicks open in its place.

“Hold on.” 

Gyuvin is out of the car, and you stop in your tracks to turn around and face him, pressing down your lips together because god, you feel so fucking bad. He should be making fun of you right now, not looking all serious! He should be gloating and rubbing it in your face that you should’ve just taken his offer!

He’s got his arms crossed and looks disappointed. You see Ricky peeking out from the rolled down window in concern, ready to step in in case things get ugly. “I knew you’d be into him,” Gyuvin finally says. “I told you, he’d be different.”

Wait. Wait a minute.

Suddenly, he’s grinning again. A stupid fucking devious grin and you feel your soul escaping from your body. “Did I scare you?” 

Oh no. You’re not dealing with this shit, you’re absolutely not dealing with this shit at all.

“I’m going inside. Good night.”

“You should’ve just taken my offer the first time!”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

“And you should’ve told me you changed your mind. Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t have had to wait for two months before you started dating him—”

“I’m not listening, I’m not listening!”

“This is what you get for not trusting me!”

“Leave me alone!” you shriek, stomping up to your building entrance while Gyuvin happily chases you down, and you struggle to press the right numbers on the keypad so you hiss out a swear. 

“No way. This is too good. I’m telling your mom about this,” he grins. You want to cry. “Oh, and I can take the bus from here. Ricky, come out of hiding and help your girlfriend get inside her building! She looks like she’s having trouble opening the door.”

It’s almost ridiculous how the urge to throw yourself onto Ricky overtakes you the moment he shows up, but you’re not giving Gyuvin another reason to make fun of you until the day you die. You tell Gyuvin to fuck off and he tells you to not have too much fun before finally going away. You’re tired. You’re absolutely tired, and you let out a groan into Ricky’s chest and let yourself sink into his warmth the moment you’re sure Gyuvin has left the premises. 

“It’s open,” he says, prompting you to get inside but you don’t budge.

“Your friend is annoying,” you muffle into his shirt— the damned floral shirt that started tonight’s cataclystic mess. 

“He’s your friend too.” You let out a grunt. Ricky soothes circles on your back and lets you throw your silent tantrum a little longer. “Gyuvin is right though. You should’ve just said yes the first time— ow!”

Ricky’s appalled confusion when you land a hit on his chest almost makes you feel a little better. The problem is, you did the same thing earlier and pulled him into a scandalous kiss immediately after, so he’s once again staring down at your lips like he’s waiting for it. Holy shit. Your psych class didn’t warn you about this. This is a little insane.

Your powers are too strong. The power of strawberries is too strong. But you’re not thinking straight right now, emotions at a high after the events that unfolded— so you don’t think and give him exactly what he wants, ending the night with the sweet taste of tart, and another breathless exhale brushing over his now swollen lips. “I think I’ve brainwashed you,” you say in between bated breaths. “Maybe it’s not me you like. Maybe it’s the candy and the strawberries. You should cut off on the sweets.”

“That’s not true,” he grunts, pressing in another kiss, pulling away with his teeth grazing your bottom lip with a tug. “I liked you from when Gyuvin told me about you. I like you. I like this.”

Well, that’s one way to drive a woman mad. Gyuvin was right. Maybe you should’ve taken that first chance when you had it, but it doesn’t really matter anymore because either way— you’re certain that the outcome would be the same.

“Oh, what the fuck? Gyuvin just texted.” The door is still still left hanging open, and you’re still pressed up against him when you look down to check your phone. “That son of a bitch— he sent a photo of us just now to the group chat. Is he still here?”

“Leave it.” 

Ricky pulls you back when you turn and try to look for the nosy bastard who’s probably snooping around. He tips up your chin. “One more,” he says, leaning in for yet another kiss as if your lips are the candies you always give him in bulk, like he can’t function without it anymore. 

“You’re getting greedy,” you say.

“You keep spoiling me,” he mumbles, feeling his lips graze over yours for the nth time. “You make me lose control of myself.”

Whether you met him earlier or later, you’re pretty sure you’d still end up falling horrendously for Ricky Shen. And you’d still end up doing all the same dumb things you did just to get to kiss him like this over and over again.

the psychology of strawberries. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[lovepookie]

enhypen — mortal: ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:58

♡ masterlist library…

hi! currently writing for the below groups! xoxo

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ enhypen

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ zerobaseone

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ tomorrow x together (coming soon)

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ateez

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ nct (coming soon)

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ misc. (coming soon)

2024 © lovepookie

♡ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.

[zbase1]

smth spicy w the legal line pls literally anything LOL

i felt that LMAO also i wrote about random scenarios/headcanons for the hyung line, i really hope you like it !!

warnings: MINORS DNI. not smut, but highly suggestive. implied sex in all of them. jiwoong is a teacher, matthew is drunk, angst in taerae's part, there is swearing as always

jiwoong

— okay so i can definitely see jiwoong being a graduate ta (teacher's assisstant) for college

— grad ta!jiwoong gives you several concerned looks from the front of the room (literally 6 ft away from where you were)

— today was a bad day to sit in the front row of the classroom, because you were all hot and bothered

— behind the desk, your legs pressed together, trying to supress any unwanted, inappropriate thoughts about your hot teacher while he talked about the sternocleidomastoid muscle

— you definitely weren't supposed to be thinking about getting railed in your 9am anatomy recitation, yet here you were

— unfortunately for you, it didn't go unnoticed by jiwoong

— after he ended the class, you knew you had to get out of there as soon as possible

— as you're gathering up your supplies and getting ready to go to your next class, you see jiwoong approach you, crossing his arms across his chest

— "are you okay, y/n? you seemed a bit distracted today"

— his eyes show some concern, but mostly a teasing glance

— he KNOWS what he's doing to you

— "um yeah i'm okay, i was just a bit distracted by y- i mean by the temperature in the room i mean it's so hot in here today?? wait i mean-"

— before you could help it, you started rambling on and revealing more than you should

— an amused smile appears on his stupidly handsome face

— "y/n, why don't you stay a bit longer today? i can help you review for the test next week"

— all signs of flusteredness leaves your body at the tantilizing offer

— "well shit okay jiwoong. i'm a hands-on learner by the way" 😳

zhang hao

— you were in the music building of your college campus, fingers flying away on the piano in front of you in the practice room

— being a music major was not an easy task, but it was so rewarding to see your hard work pay off after a performance, and you loved every part about it

— the music department had decided to randomly pair the music students other for the first performance of the year

— out of all the people you could've been paired with, you happened to get assigned to zhang hao. your literal crush.

— it was pretty well-known around the music department that you and zhang hao had the hots for each other, but both of you were too preoccupied with your studies to make a move

— so you and fellow music major!zhang hao had been practicing for hours for the past week, trying to perfect the dynamics and details of the piece you guys were working on

— it was a bit embarrassing at times, since you specialized in the piano only, but zhang hao (who is undoubtedly a professional violinist but also somehow an exceptional pianist as well) would correct your techniques and skills

— you felt a bit belittled, but deep down you know zhang hao was genuinely kind-hearted and didn't have any bad intentions by trying to help you

— it also really didn't help that you had a huge crush on him, because it made you even more flustered and prone to making mistakes

— after working on a section for 20 minutes with no improvement, zhang hao sets his violin down and sits next to you on the piano bench, his body lightly brushing against yours

— as zhang hao places his hands on the piano keys to demonstrate, you try not to think about how pretty his hands are and how long his fingers are, and what they would feel like inside you

— "what did you just say y/n?"

— oh fuck. did you really just say your lewd thoughts out loud?

— you turn around to see a blushing zhang hao, his eyes not meeting yours and his hand awkwardly touching the back of his neck while chuckling

— "i'm really sorry if i made you umcomfortable hao i didn't mean-"

— zhang hao eventually holds a finger to your lips, effectively shutting you up

— he leans in closer until you feel his hot breath against your ear

— "you know, y/n, i can show you a different kind of fingering technique, if you know what i mean"

hanbin

— you and your boyfriend!hanbin had only been dating for three weeks

— it was still very early in your relationship, so when he invited you over to his place for the night, you were ecstatic

— understandably, since it was a milestone in the relationship

— hanbin is such a considerate and thoughtful guy

— he would keep asking you if you were comfortable staying over

— when you arrive at his door, he excitedly greets you and grabs your hand to pull you inside

— "y/n you're here ! i wanna show you everything !!"

— you return a smile and follow hanbin around

— he was so cute when he got excited, eyes sparkling and everything

— he gives you a full tour of the small but cozy apartment

— after the tour, homemade dinner, and cuddling while watching a movie on the sofa, it gets late

— "i dont know about you hanbin but i'm eepy"

— hanbin laughs and agrees, pulling you in for a kiss on the top of your head

— "oh hanbin, where do you want me to sleep?"

— "you can sleep in my bed y/n. we are dating after all."

— he must've seen the gears turning in your head

— "y/n, we don't have to do anything at all, please don't feel pressured to. i won't do anything until you're 100% ready, i promise. you can sleep on the sofa if that makes you feel more comfortable i can get you extra blankets-"

— "hanbin, what if i want to... do something?"

— he stops his sentence and smiles, reaching out to hold both of your hands

— "are you sure y/n?"

— "yes hanbin i want to."

— "you know.... my roommate matthew won't be home until tomorrow morning"

matthew

— frat boy!matthew was five and a half drinks in and starting to feel the alcohol kick in

— maybe it was the vodka cran coursing through his veins, but matthew was feeling bold tonight

— matthew didn't usually do hook ups with strangers, but you were an exception he knew he couldn't pass up on

— his best friend hanbin from besides him, notices how matthew kept looking at you from across the room

— "dude, go talk to them"

— sober matthew would have never even thought about it, but this wasn't sober matthew right now

— you were only two drinks in, fully aware of your surroundings and decisions, and felt your heart rate pick up as you saw the cute boy approach you with a charming smile on his face

— matthew shamelessly eyes you up and down the whole time you guys were talking

— the next thing you know, you're up against a wall in a corner of the frat house's upstairs, secluded from the rest of the drunk, sweaty college students

— matthew has you pinned up against the wall, his hands tangled in your hair while the two of you make out, eventually stumbling into a nearby bedroom

taerae

— having a special relationship with fwb!taerae had its perks but also its limits

— one of the limits being, you couldn't wear his clothes like you would if you had a real, committed s/o

— you know it was silly thing to be sad about, since this was what you signed up for, but it still hurt your heart whenever you think about how real couples share clothes

— it's 6:30am when you wake up in taerae's bed, naked, groggy, and disoriented

— you look over to see taerae soundly asleep, his hair messy and a serene expression on his face

— you knew you probably shouldn't stay any longer, so you quietly get out of bed, pick up your discarded clothes on the floor, and dress yourself

— for some reason you found your shorts and shirt, but couldn't find where your underwear went

— you think about grabbing a thin, white long-sleeved button-up out of taerae's closet to cover yourself up more, but decide against it since you know it was wrong to take something without asking

— "y/n, wait"

— looks like he already woke up

— although his hair is disheleved, he looks as cute as ever

— "i wanna give you something"

— you feel a rush of excitement at his words

— was he gonna give you one of his shirts???

— to your dismay, he hands you your crumpled up underwear from last night, mumbling a half-assed sorry

— "you don't want to keep it, taerae?"

— "no, it's fine y/n. also you don't need to wear underwear next time."

— your face heats up at his words and you nod your head in agreement

— there would for sure be a next time for a night of fun, but he'll never see you as someone he can be in a committed relationship with

[pshcomforts]

➳ brought the heat back | psh.

situationship!sunghoon x fem!reader (feat. gunwook from zerobaseone)

“i’m so jealous, i’m going crazy, my patience will run out”

synopsis: sunghoon definitely wasn’t amused when coming to a party and seeing some guy talk to you.

warnings/content: written in third pov. mentions of alcohol. suggestive. little fluff. tension. possessive and jealous sunghoon (what did you expect). cursing. not proofread.

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 2.7k

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: brought the heat back by enhypen

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

0:34 ──|───────────────── 2:22

y/n had just arrived to the dim-lit party, music loudly blasting through her ears as she moved past waves of people.

the girl struggled to find her friends as they remained scattered all around.

“damn heeseung just had to throw a huge ass party..,” she mumbled to herself, sighing softly once she realized she wouldn’t be able to find anyone.

she even sent texts, but she deemed that all had gone off of their phones for the night so she settled on a drink and time well spent of being alone.

that was until her coworker had approached her.

“hey y/n!” gunwook yelled out, grinning at her shocked expression.

“gunwook?? i never thought i’d see you here!”

the male laughed before taking a step closer to her. “never thought i would’ve either, especially when you’re alone.” he frowned, earning a playful smile to form on y/n. “where are your friends?”

“they’re off somewhere… i can’t find them honestly..,” she admitted to him.

gunwook quickly wore a grin that reflected hers, presenting a sweet expression as he said, “so.. i take it you’re alone then?”

she cocked a brow at him before the two broke out into laughter. “what do you mean by that, gunwook…?” she softly teased, breaking another chuckle out of him.

“just saying… if i’m alone, and you’re alone, we can be each others company.”

the girl tensed up for a second, stopping to process the words her coworker had just uttered out to her.

that wasn’t what she thought it meant.. right?

she glanced at the tall boy to search for what his intentions were, but given that they were just coworkers, she deemed it was nothing, so she agreed.

surely, no one would be upset with that option, right? (no)

gunwook offered to get the next cup of liquor after she downed her first, both sitting on the couch that had been crowded by others.

“why didn’t you help that customer out??” he laughed with a huge grin plastered across his face.

“because!—“ y/n yelled, pausing to sip her cup. “she looked like she would’ve much rather talked to you so i let her go to you!”

the boy sputtered out a giggle. “so you let me have your sale then?” he teased, earning a soft hit on the arm.

“well that wasn’t my intention, she just seemed more interested in talking to you so i didn’t know what else to do.” she rolled her eyes, scoffing as she remained hearing hearty laughs erupt out of him.

he let his tongue slip through his lips when he furrowed his brows and shook his head. “you could’ve just stolen that sale from me, y/n. i would’ve let you,” he sighed.

“well i’m sorry, gunwook, i thought you would’ve actually appreciated getting that sale.”

the two laughed out her play on sarcasm, unintentionally getting closer with their body movements.

just when their heads were about to bunk, a buzzing notification caught y/n’s attention and thinking it was one of her friends, she quickly glanced at it.

just a friend ‼️:

Stop getting close to him.

Do you want me to do something about it?

✩ ‘who is that guy who said hello earlier?’ ✩

her heart instantly dropped at the texts. where was he? and how did he know? she tried to scan around the area, but another notification pulled her back to her phone.

just a friend ‼️:

Looking for me?

y/n began to text back with her heartbeats getting louder by the second. her hands were softly shaking and she didn’t know what to do.

encountering jealous hoon was something that happened occasionally, but it was always minor and not noticeable enough to make it seem like they were more than friends.

✩ ‘i’m getting jealous’ ✩

‘where are you? and why are you watching me??’ — she quickly messaged back, chewing her lips as gunwook started to notice the change in her demeanor.

just a friend ‼️:

Don’t worry about where I am, pretty girl

Now get his hand off of your leg or I’ll come over and do it myself.

✩ ‘it’s weird, i don’t want to but i’m envious’ ✩

y/n felt her stomach rupture with butterflies at the possessive tone in his text. her eyes fell down to her leg and finally noticed the unintentional hand slip there.

“gunwook, your hand..,” she awkwardly mumbled, gesturing down to where it laid.

the boy quickly gasped and removed it with a blush forming on his cheeks. “oh god, i’m sorry! i didn’t know my hand was there…,” he admitted in shame. “that won’t make it awkward at work right..?”

she shook her head in reassurance and laughed at the way he panicked. “noo, you’re fine!! i didn’t realize it was there either..,” she chortled.

gunwook nodded, cheeks still flushing with embarrassment as he scratched his neck.

“sorry about that…,”

“what are you sorry for!” y/n swiftly chuckled. “you did nothing wrong, gunwook!” her hand placed itself on his arm out of habit, attempting to reassure the boy but the only thing it did was set off alarms in sunghoon’s head.

the older male who watched from afar felt his jaw tighten at the little action, eyes squinting and staring down at the two who were innocently on the couch.

✩ ‘why are you smiling at him like that?’ ✩

his hands went to his phone, typing his message out of irritation.

‘Why do you have your hand on his arm? Take it off.’

✩ ‘it feels like burning, hotter, hotter’ ✩

he glanced up with crossed arms, hoping that his girl would listen. he watched her mumble incoherent words that he couldn’t make out and soon enough, her hands slipped away from that stupid guys arms.

✩ ‘rough madness’ ✩

his lips began to curl and a smirk started to form as his gaze remained on the two, not even caring that there was a party going on.

✩ ‘it’s getting stronger, stronger’ ✩

jake even tried to offer a drink, but sunghoon declined, not wanting to feed the jealous rage that still fumed in the pit of his stomach.

but when he found that tall boy inch closer to y/n, his heart was quick to sink. he straightened himself before walking to the scene without even thinking, fists clenched and brows furrowed to display his pissed reaction.

✩ ‘i can’t stand it’ ✩

sunghoon stood before them, eyes narrowing down at the guy he couldn’t recognize.

“y/n,” he gritted out with a tightened jaw, hating the way his heart burned at this.

✩ ‘i can’t hide it, my head is spinning, crazy, yeah’ ✩

he watched how the girl instantly pieced that it was him as she glanced back. “sunghoon…,” she gulped, finally taking in the handsome features present on him.

he quickly let out a soft scoff, eyes rolled while keeping his glare directly on her.

a soft lick was made between his lips. “what are you doing, hm?” he taunted, smile slowly curling once he saw how she lowly panicked.

“nothing, hoon. i’m just catching up with my coworker.” y/n quickly excused, gesturing to gunwook, who awkwardly sat there.

✩ ‘don’t test me’ ✩

but the older male didn’t bother to glance at him, letting his attention lay completely on the girl who he wanted as his.

before he could speak, gunwook intervened with a murmur — “we’re really just coworkers, man.”

sunghoon glared back at him for a second, disbelief written on his face as he scoffed. that’s not what it looked like seconds ago when he was inches away from his girl.

✩ ‘trying hard to endure, endure’ ✩

he got a hold of y/n’s wrist, fingers tightening around while pulling her away from the scene. his nails were close to digging into her skin as his heart picked up on the jealous energy that chucked at him.

✩ ‘i’m going crazy like this, i’m going crazy’ ✩

she softly winced in pain, feeling every press of his slim fingers that wrapped around her wrist.

“sunghoon..,” y/n whispered, but he ignored her, making the girl unable to clarify that gunwook was just leaning in to remove something from her hair.

truth be told though, he almost fell weak to his knees when his name had slipped out of her mouth. his possessive demeanor nearly dropped, but only grew stronger once he realized it fueled flame to fire.

✩ ‘no, it ain’t my fault, ain’t my fault’ ✩

the inner corner of his lips curled in satisfaction before bringing her to an empty room.

the door quickly closed and y/n was slammed against it with hoon caging her to himself. his arms were securely palmed against the door as his eyes stared down at her.

“sunghoon..,” she quietly murmured out again, heart fluttering at his tall frame towering over hers.

he tilted his head with a slight brow raise in response, loving how weak she could fall within seconds of barely making contact. he leaned himself in, closing the gap between their heated bodies.

✩ ‘ain’t my fault, it’s because of you’ ✩

their lips barely grazed against each others as his breath hit her skin. “what are we doing?” y/n mumbled to him, truly confused at their situation.

sunghoon swallowed down a harsh lump in his throat, trying to find words that would answer her question. “i don’t know, y/n. you tell me,” he squinted his eyes in jealousy again. “one second you’re texting me about how we should go watch this new movie together, and the next you’re talking to your coworker who obviously likes you.”

one of his hands that laid flat against the door began to clench, turning it into a fist as he remembered just how close the boy was getting to her.

“do you like him?” he questioned, feeling his heartbeats rise with every silent second that passed.

✩ ‘don’t be confused, is it me or him’ ✩

y/n stayed quiet, unable to admit her feelings for the guy in front of her when she suddenly felt a finger hook around her chin. sunghoon pulled her attention onto him, eyes boring into hers to get a straight answer.

“tell me, pretty.” he spat, already knowing that she liked him, and not the coworker.

at this point, his lips were about to get a taste before he could even think. he was close to caving in with how her silence was saying much more than needed.

he let his top lip graze against hers again, noses bunking and foreheads almost colliding when the room began to get hotter.

“say it,” hoon whispered near her skin, faint groans slipping pass his throat when he felt her try to resist.

y/n gulped, softly biting her lips to temper herself down but couldn’t when they were so close to taking it to the next level. “i like you, sunghoon, not him.” she confessed, feeling her stomach bubble with butterflies.

his lips were quick to coil into a shit-eating grin, causing her to feel it against her skin as he murmured, “you drive me crazy, angel. you don’t even understand what you do to me.”

before she could even speak, he smashed his lips against hers, finally colliding into a much needed kiss. y/n quietly gasped, allowing more entrance for the male as her hands instantly ran to his muscular arms.

she squeezed them, trying to signal for him to pull away with how rough he moved against her, but he couldn’t stop. even if he wanted to, he couldn’t with how much he had been craving this.

sunghoon’s thick brows furrowed as he continued, loving the sweet taste her lips offered while his hands slipped down to her waist. he pushed himself closer, allowing her to melt into the harsh movements.

and once she did so, her hands quickly moved up to the messy hair that covered his forehead, softly tugging at them to stimulate his satisfaction.

he let out a soft groan, pulling back ever so slightly to take a breather with all that was going on.

y/n felt his breath fan against her skin, making her glance down at his now-swollen lips that were running pink around the edges from his initial intention to go for it.

sunghoon quickly leaned it, urging for another kiss when her hands stopped at his broad chest. “hoon, let me breathe,” she whined, earning a low chuckle.

a soft sigh left him as he wore a mischievous grin. “fine, breathe then.” he uttered out before leaning in closer to her neck.

he pressed firm kisses against it, causing a gasp to be heard from his girl. “sunghoon!” she yelled, trying to push him away, but he didn’t budge.

the asshole only smiled, continuing to leave pecks around her neck to tease. “what? i’m letting you breathe,” he taunted with a coy tone. “isn’t that what you wanted?”

she whined at his words, still attempting to push away at his shoulders. “you better not leave anything noticeable.” she warned once she felt his vampire-like fangs begin to nibble.

a scoff immediately fell from his lips. “why? can’t i let everyone know that you’re mine now?” he growled.

when she kept her mouth shut, he let another puff of air slip by. “oh i see.” he peered into her gaze. “you don’t want that coworker of yours to know, hm?”

sunghoon quickly narrowed his eyes and poked his tongue out through his cheek. “aren’t you gonna admit it?” he asked, thumb pulling her bottom lip down.

y/n choked out, completely falling in a daze at how jealous he was. “it’s not that…,” she murmured.

“then what is it?”

“i just don’t want anything noticeable, hoon.” the girl frowned. “it’s hard to cover up.”

hoon widely grinned, raising his brows as he uttered, “isn’t that the whole point?”

she rolled her eyes and shoved his arm. “i can’t have it show anywhere, idiot, especially at work.”

“so i’m right then?” he joked, earning another nudge on the arm as he laughed. “you could’ve just admitted it, you know?”

“that’s not what i meant, dumbass!” y/n defended, now smacking his arms and giggling alongside him.

the two continued their banter until sunghoon decisively wrapped his arms around her, stopping the constant hits he was receiving.

“fine, no marks.” he huffed, muzzling his head into her shoulder. he breathed in her intoxicating scent as he tightened her closer to his chest.

“you’re mine now though, right?”

y/n laughed at his words before bringing her hands up to hit his arm. “obviously.. idiot,” she responded.

sunghoon’s lips formed a huge smile that was now plastered across his face. “good…,” his soft voice whispered — “because i hate that coworker of yours.”

“hoon, he wasn’t even doing anything that bad.”

he playfully scoffed. “so now you’re trying to defend him?”

she quickly rolled her eyes. “sunghoon! he was—“

he leaned in with a grin, pressing his lips against hers to shut her up. his hand firmly held her cheeks as he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

hoon finally pulled away after her arms wrapped around his neck.

“i hate you,” she murmured.

“as if.” his lips connected with hers again for a soft peck, unable to restrain himself.

and when he leaned in again, y/n put a hand to his chest once more. “we should go back to the party,” she said, knowing how much he wanted to kiss again.

“come on, baby.” sunghoon whined, giving a slight pout. “don’t say that.”

she giggled before shaking her head. “let’s go, hoon, before they start to get suspicious.” the girl replied.

he declined for minutes, trying to convince her for another kiss, in which she eventually gave in.

y/n planted a soft peck on his lips that lasted only seconds, leaving him to scoff.

“okay, what was that?”

“that was a kiss?” she teased.

“you know i want more than that.”

his brow raised and she only laughed before pushing the door open and holding his hand. “later, dummy. come on!” y/n quickly dragged her grumbling boy out to the party and ignored his petty behavior that came afterward.

safe to say that sunghoon was definitely gonna get another kiss that night.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

a/n: heyy… i know it’s been a while.. i’m sorry! i’m currently working and also doing a summer session so i haven’t had any time at all to write, but i’m hoping to be posting regularly again. but if not then.. you will be hearing from me once a month…

[zumblrnet]

check out member jun's new piece

sweet venom.

synopsis: when you pull them by the collar of their shirt to kiss them

who: zb1's middle & maknae line x gn!reader (yujin not included)

categories: fluff, sort of suggestive, hurt / comfort, headcanons + short scenarios

warnings: light swearing, mentions of food in gyuvin's section, not proofread bc im such a slay so please please please lmk if there's more

word count: 1.5k

✧ MATTHEW !

⟡ you do it to shut him up /hj. affectionately. this canadian man is funky and we love and cheer for him because of that. but boy do most canadians have something in common: talking. (as a canadian im allowed to say this)

⟡ in this case, it’s not storytelling or his ad campaigns, it’s about how he loses to you in mario kart for the fifth time in a row. for all i know, he could be cracked at mario kart, but let’s be honest, he would somehow go from second place down to eleventh within a matter of minutes. 

⟡ matthew isn't a sore loser by any means, his whining about losing are mainly all for fun and to tease, but after the fourth game… maybe he does gaf y’know :/ 

⟡ pouty!!! also probably throws the controller, lightly mind you, to the side before taking a deep breath in and letting out a silent scream into his palms as the screen flashes with another loss for him. 

⟡ kiss it better otherwise he’ll never play again (that’s a lie) (he’d do almost anything you’d ask him to) (whipped)

matthew leaned his head back against the couch cushion and pinched his arm to make sure that this was real as his character finally crossed the finish line. in eighth place. you looked over at him encouragingly, made a remark about how this was better than last game, before patting his knee. he threw you a scathing glare, whines bubbled up from his throat, and he leaned his full body weight against you. he didn’t notice that there was a tug on his shirt, the soft cotton balled up in your fist as you pulled, before his lips were on yours, his whines drowned out. it was embarrassing how fast he melted into the contact, eyes closed as he rested a hand overtop of yours, he’d never live it down.

✧ TAERAE !

⟡ a kiss like this with taerae would most likely happen in a slow, sort of slow, heat of the moment thing. but it would be a softer, gentle tug of his shirt. nothing too fast. 

⟡ you both would probably be looking at each other already, coming down from the high of hanging out together before bam! it hits the both of you that “wow. i'm incredibly in love with this person.” 

⟡ ngl… he’d be a bit too hesitant to do much about it at first. but i mean. that’s why you’re the one gripping his shirt collar and not the other way around-

⟡ he stares at you with wide eyes and a facial expression like :o when his lips are suddenly pressed against yours. but taerae recovers from the shock fairly quickly and leans into it, eyes closed as he kisses back with the tease of a grin on his face. 

⟡ he’ll pull away with the biggest smile and pinch your cheek before going in to kiss you again, being the one to pull you in this time.

water dripped from his thoroughly soaked hair, trailed down his jaw and continued to dampen the fabric of his shirt, leaving no place dry as you both stood outside amidst the rain. he stared at you, breath coming sharp from his mouth as he looked at you in some awe. you laughed and in return, so did he. you cupped his face gently, wiped a thumb under his eye to clear the water, efforts futile. taerae grabbed your hand and tugged, nose bumped against yours, before he greedily took your lips in his once again.

✧ RICKY !

⟡ he’s insufferable istg / j. ok but you not be able to get away with this move properly imo without having some sort of built up tension. as in the type of tension to cut with a knife, the opposite of taerae’s. 

⟡ ricky would be able to see you go in for the kiss from a mile away… he just. knows these things somehow and is prepared. he would have to be distracted enough, emotionally, in order to pull it off. 

⟡ that or you wrestle him and pin him for long enough. i have such a strong urge to grab this guy by the necktie and shake him around a little. affectionately i swear. 

⟡ despite the colder appearance, ricky is emotionally intelligent and he does have his softer moments. the aftermath of a fight would be the main scene i picture this happening in? 

⟡ “do you even want this?” // “what-” // “do you even want us?” // “of course i do.” type of beat do you get me? you feel me? you hear me? set me freeee- erm. 

there was something about the silence, weight undeniable as you and ricky stood opposite of each other. shoulders tensed, he heaved out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose as you dug your nails into the palm of your hand in a closed fist. you knew what was coming; the rush of doubts and worry that would spill from his mouth about the relationship and how he constantly felt as if you deserved better, how he was the damage. you marched with a purpose towards him, placed a hand firmly on his waist as he knotted his brows together in mild confusion, before butterflies bursted in his chest. the pressed collar of his shirt would need ironing later, crumpled in your tight grasp, but ricky couldn’t find it in himself to care all too much, not when he cupped the back of your head and pressed you closer.

✧ GYUVIN !

⟡ it would be a “did you eat the last donut in the fridge?” // “yes. what are you going to do about it?” // “get it back of course.” // *starts making out* type of thing. 

⟡ we know this man has the best reactions to things so just. he flounders when you first kiss him out of the blue; like a literal fish out of water despite this not being the first time lol. 

⟡ idk i just feel like this would happen so often?? like i see gyuvin dating someone with similar energy and excitement towards things (not to say he wouldn’t date you otherwise. man falls hard in general) but just imagine doing something dumb and then one of you pulls the other in. 

⟡ “i can’t believe you just did that.” // “yeah well.” // *making out again* this whole thing is just. gyuvin coded imo. maybe im just sleep deprived. 

⟡ when you do it however… he can’t do anything but stare are you with those eyes of his. you already know the ones. shellshocked, flabbergasted, stunned, electrocuted, astonished, etc etc.

you grinned as gyuvin flailed his arms before resting them on your shoulders, slumping into the kiss. it was sweet in a literal sense; you could taste the powdered sugar and jam that stained his mouth from earlier. his face was fully flushed when you pulled apart. you giggled and swiped a thumb at the corner of his lips, collected the last bit of your sweet treat, and brought it to your mouth with a wink before walking away like nothing ever happened.

✧ GUNWOOK !

⟡ omg the scene i have in mind is when you have to leave for a while, talking like a month or more, and won’t be seeing gunwook for the next while. he’s so intent on making things work out for all the time you guys are doing the ldr. 

⟡ runs through a list of everything you’ll need to pack, triple checks everything with you, makes sure you have the right flight booked… you’ll have to pull him aside and reassure him that you’ll be fine and that he doesn’t need to worry about anything; doing all that is kind of a stress reaction. 

⟡ is so jittery leading up to the day where you have to leave :( clears his schedule to the best of his abilities to make sure he has all the time with you. 

⟡ 100% is seeing you off at the airport don’t even think otherwise. “you’ll call me when you land, right?” // “of course.” // “and you’ll update me with stuff you’ve done? And sec pictures of yourself?” // “sweetie-” 

⟡ kiss him to shut up but softer and with more tears bc he will start crying and bury his face into your shoulder. 

gunwook thought he looked horrible, face puffed up and nose runny as he sniffled and wiped away the tears in the corners of his eyes. you thought completely the opposite; there was something about the early morning sun that shone through the windows and highlighted the rosy parts of his cheeks and the small pout he wore on his lips. he opened his mouth, ready to go on another ramble before you delicately pressed your lips against his. the drawstrings of his hoodie were twirled between your fingers as you pulled lightly on the thick material. he smiled into the touch, eyes still rimmed with tinges of red, and held on for one last kiss.

^ . _ . ^ notes: first post on the new blog... apologies for any mistakes im notorious for writing these late at night and giving up when it comes to proofreading TwT.

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