ᯓ★ about the author
i’m bee. she/her. 1991.
aries ☼ pisces ☾ cancer ↑
infp
british
ult biases: yeosang, joshua, and wonwoo
on this blog you’ll find seventeen fanfics, photos of my pets, enthusiasm for flowers, water, and the moon, and indecipherable, feral ramblings about pretty idols
ᯓ★ guidelines
i am bi-demi, audhd, a trans ally, pro palestine, a feminist, anti-racist, and politically very left, and i’d like to be friends if all that is good with u.
this is an 18+ blog. MDNI. you must have an age indicator in bio to follow or interact, or you will be blocked.
i’ll never use AI and neither should you.
ᯓ★ new fics
where do stars go? — ft kwon soonyoung
radio waves — ft xu minghao
PAIRING: campus DJ!jeonghan x f!reader
GENRE: friends to lovers, college au, 2000s au
WC: 16,816
WARNINGS: weed/alcohol consumption, discussion of mental illness, bit o jealousy, angst, idiots in love, semi-public sex but like barely, dry humping, fingering, oral, multiple orgasms, petnames (baby), cum swallowing, lots of whimpering u already know!!!!!, jun cameo and he's real weird again!! (/pos), i made up a bunch of terrible fake band names enjoy
A/N: written for @studiosvt's First Time Caller collab! be sure to check out all the other banger fics on the masterlist! i had a blast writing this, loser emo boi jeonghan was not something i knew i needed but i fear i am now in love with him. btw, this fic is set in 2003! peak era for this genre of music if u ask me :) shoutout to the homie @haologram for beta reading, u da best fr ily <3
SYNOPSIS: You met Jeonghan freshman year of college — he seemed a bit strange at first, shy and a bit elusive, but you two instantly became friends when you bonded over your love of alternative music and record stores. You wouldn't necessarily call him your best friend, but as friendships and relationships came and went over the years, Jeonghan was always a constant in your life. It's junior year now, and you're trying to convince him to apply for the open DJ position at the campus radio station. WFVC 90.5 is known for being the hotspot for underground punk music, and with Jeonghan majoring in communications studies you know it's the perfect role for him. He gets the job, and you figure you'd be seeing a lot less of him now that he's busy working the late night shift at the station. But it's quite the opposite — you're spending more time with Jeonghan than ever before, and you start to realize there might be something more than friendship on the horizon for you two.
[ONE]
Filtered sunlight beaming through the treetops hits your eyes as you step out into the quad, making you squint in the sudden brightness that starkly contrasts the dim interior of the Literature Hall you were just in. The air is crisp — not yet chilly, but fresh and invigorating, a tell-tale sign of fall being right around the corner. The quad is buzzing with life, students chattering as they stroll to class, bikes zipping past you on the sidewalk, every bench and shaded spot under a tree occupied with people laughing, reading, relaxing. You leisurely make your way over to your usual spot, but as you approach the small oak near the Communications Building you see two girls you don't recognize sitting in the grass beneath its low branches. Puzzled, you look around, but then you spot a familiar lanky figure standing outside the Comms building. His back is turned to you, so all you can see is the mess of long dark hair upon his head, but the baggy flannel shirt and the black backpack adorned with various pins and patches slung over one shoulder are a dead giveaway. As you head in his direction, you see he appears to be staring straight ahead at a lamppost.
"Hey dork, I was looking for you," you call out playfully as you walk toward him, but he doesn't seem to hear you. Getting closer, you spot the pair of headphones on his head, the wire plugged into the portable CD player in his hand — the loud, raucous sounds of Linkin Park blaring in his ears tinnily resonating through the air from halfway across the sidewalk. When you get within arm's reach you tug on the handle of his backpack. He nearly jumps out of his skin, whipping around and yanking the headphones off his head with a startled expression on his face. When he sees it's you, he relaxes, but not without majorly rolling his eyes.
"Jesus, you fucking scared me," he sighs. He lifts the CD player in his hand and pauses the song, the banging melody ringing through the foam-covered headphones ceasing.
"Sorry," you apologize, but a wide grin spreads on your face. "I didn't think you'd react that much. What are you doing, anyway?" you ask, looking over to the lamppost.
"Nothing," he says quickly, but a flier with bold text catches your eye.
Do you like punk music? Do you like radio?
WFVC 90.5 is HIRING for a DJ position!
No experience necessary, Communications majors preferred.
APPLY NOW at the station (Comms Building 2nd Floor)
"Oh my god, Jeonghan this is perfect!" you exclaim, but your friend shakes his head.
"I was just looking."
"Dude, you HAVE to apply. This is literally your dream job!"
Jeonghan frowns. "I doubt they would hire me."
"What the hell are you talking about? You're exactly the person they're looking for," you tell him. And it's true — Foxville College's singular radio station may be a local joint, but it's famous across all of Wisconsin for being the station for underground grunge, punk, and alternative rock. You've been listening to it since you were a kid, and its where your love of the genres originated. Jeonghan happens to share the exact same music taste — it's how you became friends in the first place back in Freshman year.
"Hey!" Jeonghan calls after you as you both exit the same building. You had just came from the same class, Intro to Poetry, but it's the very first day of school, so he doesn't know your name. But he saw your notebook fall out of your half-open backpack, and you didn't notice it.
He picks up the small, black leather notebook and quickly zips after you. "Excuse me," he tries again, but you're wearing headphones. Your music is loud, and familiar. He taps on your shoulder, startling you slightly.
"Hi, sorry," Jeonghan tells you as you turn to face him, shifting the headphones off one ear so you can hear. "You dropped this." You look at his hands as he extends the notebook to you.
"Oh! That is mine," you remark, taking your headphones off fully now and pausing your music.
"Yeah, your backpack was open."
You look over your shoulder, and sure enough, the bag is half-unzipped.
"Whoops," you tell him with a lighthearted laugh, taking the notebook and putting it back in the bag, making sure to close it all the way this time. "Well, thank you, I appreciate it," you say with a friendly smile. You go to put your headphones back on and walk away, but before you can do so he points at your portable CD player.
"Are you listening to Green Day?" he asks.
"Oh, yeah! I am!" you reply excitedly. "It's the Dookie album, one of my faves."
"That album is so good," he agrees with a smile. "I don't mean this in a rude way or anything," he says shyly. "But you I wouldn't have guessed you'd be into punk music."
"Yeah, I get that a lot," you say with a laugh. "I don't particularly dress very edgy or anything. Maybe I should start dressing the part."
"Wear whatever you want," he responds with a shrug. "The most punk rock thing you can do is be yourself."
"That's very true," you grin back at him. "I'm y/n, by the way."
"I'm Jeonghan," he replies with a soft smile. "It's nice to meet you."
And so you and Jeonghan quickly became friends. He's a pretty quiet guy, very much the opposite of your bubbly, sociable self; but despite your differences you get along well. He's also pretty much the only person you know who likes the same type of music as you, so you definitely share a close bond over that.
"Besides," you say to Jeonghan. "You really should get a job anyway."
"Hey!" he pouts. "Are you calling me broke?"
"Yes. Because you are."
The left corner of his mouth lifts slightly, giving you a half-grin. "So are you, moron."
You playfully give him a light punch in the arm. "Takes one to know one."
"I'll think about it," he concedes.
"You better. If not then I'll submit the application for you."
"Pretty sure that's not allowed," he replies, raising a brow at you.
"Like that's gonna stop me," you inform him.
"Unfortunately, I believe that," he chuckles, rolling his eyes again. "Anyway, c'mon," he says to as he starts walking off. "I have a surprise for you."
"Oh god, what have you done now?" you pretend to complain as you follow after him.
"No no, you're gonna like this one," he grins. "I promise."
"Okay, well now I know where we're going," you say as Jeonghan turns onto Harton Street. The street boasts a Dead End sign, and it's path is winding. You can't see much past the trees, but you know there is only one reason to come down this way.
"I was here over the weekend," you inform him. "I don't need to buy anything else."
"Oh please, like you'd pass up the opportunity to get some new vinyl," he grins.
"Dude, I'm already living off ramen."
"Just trust me."
"Okaaay," you reply, feigning skepticism. "If you say so."
The tires of Jeonghan's 1991 Mercury Tracer crunch as he turns off the main road onto a white gravel drive. A humble building comes into view, its exterior painted pastel yellow with a giant sign reading TURNPIKE RECORDS in a large, swirling font that looks straight out of the 1970s. A neon sign resides in the window, flickering slightly but advertising that the shop is open. There's only one other car in the small lot: a pristine, hot red Chevy Camaro also straight out of the 70s, belonging to the shop's owner.
Jeonghan parks the car and the two of you head into the store. The front door squeaks as you open it, an assortment of small bronze bells hanging above the door ringing out to announce your entry. The familiar, slightly-musty scent of the used record store fills your nose as you walk down the three steps taking you to the shop floor. Aside from the natural light from the window, the place is pretty dim, lit mainly by a couple of bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling and a variety of glowing lava lamps of all shapes, sizes, and colors placed throughout the room. Nearly every inch of wall is covered in a hodge-podge of framed posters and photographs, giving the whole place a chaotic but vibrant feel. Without a doubt, this is your favorite spot in town.
"I wonder if they have the new Muse album yet," you comment, meandering through the empty shop over to the Rock section.
"Not yet," Jeonghan replies as he starts flipping through a nearby discount bin. "I checked already."
You hear a faint swoosh come from behind you. You turn around to see a tall, heavily-tattooed man carrying a large box emerging from the thick velvet curtain that leads to the back of the store — none other than the shop's owner, Tripp. He's in his mid-40s, bald except for a long goatee on his chin, and he has more earrings than you can even count.
"Hey hey, I thought I heard my favorite customers out here!" Tripp says cheerfully when he sees you and Jeonghan. He sets the box on top of the counter, brushing his hands off and coming out to greet you on the floor.
"Oh please, you say that to everyone," you grin at the man.
"Definitely not," he shakes his head. "Besides, between the both of you you guys are keeping me in business. Speaking of," he says as he suddenly snaps and points at you. "I got something for ya."
He quickly returns to the counter and retrieves something from the shelves beneath the register. He walks back to you and hands you an album, light gray in color. You flip it over, and your jaw drops. It's a Japanese edition of Led Zeppelin IV — your favorite album of all time.
"Your friend told me you've been looking for this one," he tells you, nodding his head in Jeonghan's direction. "He convinced me to set it aside for you."
"Wow, that's so nice thank you!!" you tell Tripp excitedly. "How much?"
"Don't worry about it. It's already paid for."
"What?!"
You look over at Jeonghan, but he just smiles back at you sheepishly.
"What the hell, thank you," you grin at him. "You did not have to do that though."
"Actually, I did," Jeonghan admits. "Tripp made me."
Tripp lets out a hearty laugh. "Well regardless, I'm glad it's in the hands of someone I know will really appreciate it."
"Let me pay you back," you say to Jeonghan as Tripp returns to restocking, but he just shakes his head.
"Don't worry about it, really," he tells you warmly.
"Okay, fine. But you're gonna come over and listen to this with me," you insist, poking him in the chest. "We can smoke and I'll order pizza."
Jeonghan's face lights up. "Sounds like a deal to me," he grins.
brrrrrrr
brrrrrrr
The dull trill of the phone rings in your ear as you wait for the call to connect. You've only hit the bong once, but your head already feels like you're floating in the clouds. You mindlessly twirl the cord around your index finger, and you're halfway zoned out by the time the other line picks up.
"Arthur's Pizzeria," a cheerful voice suddenly speaks into your ear. "How can I help you?"
"Yeah hi!" you blurt out in your mildly startled state. "Can I order one large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese for delivery?"
"You got it! What's the address?"
"22 Elmwood Street, Unit 201."
"Great! It'll be about 20 minutes."
With a click you set the handset back onto the hook, returning to the living room. Your roommate won't be back until later, so you two have the place to yourselves — perfect for getting high and lazing around without judgment. Jeonghan sits on the couch, sinking into the cushions already and staring off into space. It takes him a moment to register that you're back; when he notices you, he tries to sit up, but the effort required for it currently seems monumental.
"Pizza ordered?" he asks, peering at you through lazy eyelids.
"Yup," you reply as you plop onto the other end of the couch. "Be here in 20."
"Sweet," he grins. You reach for the bong, grabbing the lighter next to it and lighting a bit more of the bowl. After a decently fat rip and a few solid coughs, you extend it out to Jeonghan.
"Man, I'm so high already," he groans, but he takes the colorful swirled glass from your hand anyway. "Where'd you get this grass?"
"Got it from Joshua," you reply, lifting your feet up onto the couch and tucking them beside you.
"Oh," Jeonghan replies, giving you a look as he exhales a cloud of smoke and hands the bong back over.
"What's your deal with Joshua?" you question, raising your brow at him.
"What? Nothing," he says quickly. "We should open a window."
He gets to his feet and walks across the room, lifting the nearest window up as far as it will go. It's a nice evening — the crisp air from earlier has gotten cooler, but it feels delightful as it begins to drift into the apartment in the light breeze.
"I know you don't like him," you continue, not letting Jeonghan ignore your question. "But I've never known why."
"I never said I didn't like him," he denies, flopping back onto the couch.
"You didn't have to," you point out. "Your face says it all."
He grimaces, rolling his eyes. "Curse my expressive nature. Anyway, I dunno, he just always seems like he's trying to make a move on you."
"Oh, he's like that with everyone," you reply matter-of-factly.
"Right."
"He is," you affirm. "And besides, so what if he was?"
"Huh?" Jeonghan pipes up, seemingly surprised by your question. "Oh, I just mean… I just don't trust guys who are always talking to girls that. Seems sleazy."
"No, really," you reiterate. "He's like that with everyone."
"Okay," he concedes skeptically. "If you say so."
"Should we play some Zeppelin?" you ask, getting up to go grab the record. Jeonghan's face lights up.
"Fuck yeah," he grins.
You put the album on, the signature bold, heavy sounds of the band greeting your ears as you crank up the volume. As you sit there listening, you finish off the bowl with Jeonghan, the air of your apartment now completely overtaken by smoke despite the open window.
"When's that damn pizza gonna get here?" he mumbles, but before you can even respond you hear a knock coming from the front door.
"Whoa, you summoned it," you giggle, rising to your feet a bit too quickly and stumbling slightly on your way over to the door. You answer, having a quick conversation with the usual delivery boy before paying and scurrying back over to the couch, the heavenly smell of hot, greasy pepperoni pizza joining the weed aroma in the room. You don't even bother with plates, instead simply picking up the slices and shoveling them directly into your hungry mouths. The conversation remains paused for a few minutes; you zone out, letting yourself get lost in the music, but eventually your conversation with Jeonghan earlier pops back into your head.
"You really should apply to that DJ job," you say, turning to him, but he just shrugs.
"Eh, I don't think I'd get it."
"Not with that attitude you won't."
"You always say that," he rolls his eyes.
"It's true!" you insist. "Jeonghan, come on. This is basically your dream job, and you're literally the perfect guy for it. Just apply and see what happens!"
"Maybe, I dunno."
"Besides," you add. "You need the money to fund your poor spending habits."
"Hey!" he balks. "I do not have poor spending habits."
You pick up the vinyl sleeve, tapping the little yellow sticker on the cover with a messy $40 scribbled on it in black ink.
"Yeah, you do."
He groans, letting his head fall back into the couch. "You're so annoying," he says to you with a grin.
"Takes one to know one," you tease back. He grabs the nearest throw pillow, lobbing it at you and hitting you in the arm.
"Okay, I probably earned that," you admit with a laugh.
The current song ends, the gentle guitar strums of "Stairway to Heaven" filling your ears as the iconic song begins.
"Oh shit, shut up," you tell Jeonghan, launching the pillow right back at him. He jumps slightly as the unexpected pillow hits him in the chest with a soft thump. "I fucking love this song."
He is about to tell you that duh, everybody with a brain loves this song — but your eyes are closed already, bobbing your head slightly to the beat, clearly already lost in it; so he just shakes his head, chuckling silently to himself.
The both of you feel like you're drifting to a higher plane as the song progresses, fully immersed in the grand crescendo you've both heard so many times yet have never tired of. When it ends, your eyes flutter open again, finding Jeonghan fully sunk into the other end of the couch. You start to wonder if he actually fell asleep, but then he lifts his head, opening his eyes to look at you.
"You know how some people say a hot dog is a sandwich?" he asks. You stare at him for a moment, trying to comprehend in your inebriated state what it was he just said.
"Who the fuck says that?" you inquire once you finally process his question.
"I dunno. People."
"Stupid people, maybe."
"I mean, yeah," he agrees. "But like… do you think pizza is a sandwich?"
You stare at him for a moment. "What?"
"I don't know, it's got bread and cheese and meat and tomatoes, right? Those things go on sandwiches."
"You're high as shit, dumbass," you tell him.
"Okay, well watch this!" He reaches over to the pizza box and picks up a new slice. Turning to show it to you, he slowly folds it in half. "See? That's a sandwich!"
"Oh shut the fuck up," you reply, but you can't help but laugh.
Jeonghan munches on his pizza-sandwich while you reach for your stash, refilling the bowl and lighting up again. When he finishes, you hand the bong over.
"Not like either of us needs it, but whatever man," you say with a pleased grin.
With heavy, banging drum beats, the last song on the album begins to play. This one has always been Jeonghan's favorite, you recall despite being astronomically faded. You glance over at him, finding him staring out the open window into the now-dark night. Certainly not out of the ordinary, but something about him in this moment seems… sad, almost. He notices you watching him, but he seems to have become self-conscious, averting your gaze.
"What's on your mind?"
Jeonghan continues staring out the window, but he lets out a small sigh.
"Do you ever think about how big the universe is?" he asks. "And then it makes you realize how small and meaningless we really are?"
You pause for a minute, considering the gravity of his question.
"No, not really," you finally answer gently. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he answers instinctively; but after thinking about it for a moment, he adds: "But sometimes I wonder if I'm not."
"In what way?"
"Just… the whole entire world feels impossibly huge, yet Earth is just a tiny pale blue dot compared to the whole galaxy. In the grand scheme of things, we're nothing. Nothing we do matters."
"I don't think that's true at all."
Jeonghan finally looks over to you, staring at you curiously.
"But how? How can anything have any meaning if we are so tiny?"
"I think that makes everything all that much more meaningful," you reply. "Like… the universe is so huge and vast and yet here we are, chillin' together, existing at just the right time to eat pizza and listen to Zepp. I just think that's a really nice thought."
"Hmm," he mumbles, opening his mouth to say something else — but his words never come. At this point he is so physically relaxed that he seems fused to the couch.
"You're fuckin' blasted, dude," you giggle, reaching over and shaking him playfully.
"Am nottttt," he pouts, but moments later he starts giggling too. "Okay, fine, I am. But, I guess I've just never thought of it that way before."
The album ends, the room falling silent. You get up, casually shuffling over to your ever-growing collection of records that is now taking up the entire corner of the small living room.
"What next?" you ask Jeonghan over your shoulder.
"Surprise me."
You peruse through your titles, not sure exactly what you're looking for; but then one catches your eye.
"Ooh, got it," you say with a grin. You replace the vinyl on the turntable and set the needle in position, the sounds of Dookie by Green Day playing aloud in the room, making Jeonghan smile too.
[TWO]
You stroll through the library, exiting the stacks to make your way to your next class. On your way out, you're surprised to spot Jeonghan, sitting alone at one of the tables. Unexpected — as he usually spends most of his free time out in the quad or in the Comms Building's study space; if he's in the library, it's usually just to take a nap. He has a book on the desk beside him, but it's closed, and he instead seems to be intensely focused on a piece of paper, brow furrowed and deep in thought. You walk over to him, but he doesn't notice you approaching. As you near the desk you can see the word APPLICATION in bold font at the top of the paper.
"Yay, you're doing it!!" you say to him as you appear beside him, shaking him by the shoulder excitedly and making him nearly fly out of his seat.
"Jesus Christ you have got to stop sneaking up on me!" he yelps quietly, but it still earns him a glare from a nearby librarian. She raises her finger to her lips, shushing the two of you before going back to re-shelving books. You sit down in the chair next to him, scooting in close enough so you can whisper.
"This is so exciting!" you tell him in a hushed voice, but he sighs, shaking his head.
"I'm not even sure if I'm gonna turn it in," he admits.
"What? Dude, you're halfway there, just finish and go turn it in!"
"I don't know," he frowns. "They're probably just gonna laugh at me."
You raise your brow at him. "Why on earth would you think they'd do that?"
"Most people do," he shrugs.
"Well, even if they do — which they won't — who cares?" you question. "Just follow your dreams, don't let other people get in the way."
The librarian turns around again, her displeased glare telling you you're still being too loud for her liking.
"C'mon," you say to Jeonghan. "Finish up your application and let's get out of here."
He quickly fills out the rest of the form and you ditch the library together. Jeonghan is done with classes for the day, but he accompanies you across the quad to your next class.
"What are you up to tonight?" he asks. He kicks a pebble along the sidewalk as he walks; you watch his dingy old converse scuff against the ground as he does, noticing the small hole forming in the toe of his right shoe.
"I'm getting dinner with Mark," you reply casually. You see his face drop slightly out of the corner of your eye.
"Basketball team Mark?"
"Yep! We have History of Feminist Literature together, though he's a Economics major so he's just taking it for an elective."
"Hm," Jeonghan says out loud without meaning to.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing. You just hardly ever go on dates, that's all."
"Oh, it's not a date," you say plainly, but you see him roll his eyes. "It's not!!" you insist. "We're just friends."
"I doubt he sees it that way."
"And how would you know that?"
"Because dudes only think with their dicks."
"Are you speaking from experience?" you inquire teasingly.
"This is not about me," he mutters, looking mildly embarrassed as he avoids eye contact. Luckily for him, you've arrived at the Literature Hall, giving him an excuse to change the subject.
"Hope you have a good class," he tells you warmly.
"Thanks," you reply with a smile. "Now you go turn in that job application or I'm going to kick your ass."
"I will," he laughs.
"Pinky promise?" you ask, extending your hand. He chuckles, but he connects pinkies with you.
"I promise."
"Good!" you tell him with a grin. "See ya later!"
"See ya," he smiles back.
You unlock your front door quietly, trying not to make noise and wake up your roommate considering how late it is by now. But as you enter the apartment you see her sitting at the computer, back turned to you as she is absorbed in whatever is on the screen.
"Hey, I didn't think you'd still be up," you say as you shut the door and kick your shoes off.
"Oh hey," Mina replies as she turns around to greet you. She lifts her wrist to peer at her watch. "Damn, I didn't realize how late it was."
"What are you doing on the computer?" you inquire, walking over to the desk out of curiosity.
"It's this new MySpace website Irene told me about," she replies, turning back around and double-clicking on something. "It's so sick, I've been here all night making my profile."
"Oh yeah, I've heard of that," you tell her as you watch her scroll through her profile. "Seems pretty cool."
"You should make one!" she tells you. "I can add you to my Top 8 friends."
"Oh, maybe. I'm still getting used to this whole Internet thing, honestly," you laugh.
"Soooo," Mina starts, shutting down the computer and heading into the kitchen. "How was your date with Mark?"
"It wasn't a date," you tell her. "I don't know why everyone keeps saying that."
"Okay, whatever," she responds, browsing through the snack cabinet for a minute before deciding on the bag of Cheeto Puffs. "How was your not-date?"
"It was… good."
"You don't sound so sure about that."
"No, it was!" you assure her. "It's just that… I don't know, he kinda just talked about basketball the whole time."
"Ugh. Typical guy shit," Mina rolls her eyes.
"He's really nice, though…" you say, though you're not sure if you're trying to convince her or yourself more.
"Nice enough to go on a second date — sorry, not-date with?" she raises her brow at you.
"Well, I don't know about that…"
You sigh, feeling a bit dejected suddenly. It's not like you're trying to date or anything, but you can't deny that it would be kinda nice to have at least a little bit more success.
"Maybe I should just give up on dating," you grimace.
Mina pops another Cheeto in her mouth. "I mean, I don't know why you bother. You basically already have a BF."
"What?" you ask, puzzled. "No I don't?"
"C'mon, you're literally hanging out with what's-his-name all the time. The metalhead."
"Jeonghan?? He's not into metal."
"Okay, whatever noise it is you guys listen to."
"It's called punk, and it's cool."
"Riiight."
"Anyway, he's just my friend," you tell her. Her lips curve into a slight grin, and she gives you a look.
"Sure he is."
"I can be friends with dudes!"
"Dudes only think with their dicks," she retorts, echoing Jeonghan's exact words from earlier.
"He's not like that," you assure her.
"Well that's rare, if true. Maybe you should date him."
You roll your eyes, but you're tired. Mina means well, but you don't really feel like having this conversation right now. Luckily, she's already putting her snack away, and then heads off to her room.
"Anyway, I'm off to bed. Goodnight!"
You too head off to bed, but as you brush your teeth you start to think about what Mina said. What if Jeonghan does see me as more than a friend? you wonder to yourself. After all, he did say the exact same thing earlier, too. You don't think he meant it in that way, but now you're beginning to second-guess your intuition…
You go straight to bed, deciding not to think about it anymore tonight.
[THREE]
You have some time between classes, so you take up residence in your usual spot in the quad, sitting on the ground reclined against your usual tree. Fall is officially here now, and it's a bit cold out, but you're perfectly comfortable in your thick sweater and windbreaker. Out of the corner of your eye, you suddenly see something in the distance charging directly at you. Looking up from your book, you see Jeonghan, forgoing the sidewalks and sprinting across the grass straight toward you, waving and flailing his arms like a maniac.
"You look like a psychopath," you call to him as he approaches.
"I got it!!!"
"Got wha— wait, the DJ job?!" you perk up excitedly.
"YES!!"
He plops down on the ground next to you, out of breath from running, but he doesn't seem to notice or care.
"Holy shit, congrats!!" you tell him enthusiastically. "See, I told you you'd get it!"
"I can't believe I almost ripped up the application and threw it in the trash."
"Jeonghan!" you blurt out, hitting him playfully in the arm, but he just shakes his head and laughs.
"I didn't though! You made me pinky promise."
"This is amazing! When do you start?"
"Tonight, actually," he answers. "Unfortunately, I'm stuck on the late night shift since I'm a newbie — 10pm–4am."
"Oh, yikes," you reply concernedly, but he shrugs it off.
"It's fine," he smiles. "I don't sleep anyway."
"Damn, I guess I'm never gonna see you again," you say jokingly, but an unexpected wave of sadness washes over you as your own words sink in.
"No way," he shakes his head resolutely. "We're still gonna hang out. I'll find a way to make it happen."
A fluttering sensation hits your stomach. You hang out with Jeonghan all the time, so you're not sure why you'd have this reaction. But something about the way he said it — "I'll find a way"— feels… different. But, regardless, you're just glad you're still going to be able to see your friend.
"What are you doing until then?" you inquire.
"I was just gonna go grab a bite at the dining hall and then go nap in the library."
"Wanna go to Jacq's instead?" you ask. "My treat."
Jeonghan's face lights up. "Hell yeah," he grins. "That sounds like a way better idea."
The low hum of neon lights buzzes gently through the tune of the usual rotation of 1960s hits as you and Jeonghan sit in the corner booth, chatting and giggling over your meal. Jacqueline's Diner is an old-fashioned joint, and the majority of its clientele is over the age of 60 — but the food is cheap, greasy, and delicious, so the two of you are practically regulars. Jeonghan ordered his usual, chicken tenders and a Cherry Coke float; you opted for a grilled cheese and chocolate milkshake, and you ordered a basket of fries to share.
"You heard about this MySpace?" Jeonghan asks, dipping three large, salty fries in ketchup and shoving them all into his mouth at once.
"Oh yeah," you say, picking the maraschino cherry off the top of the whipped cream and eating it one bite. "Mina's on there, she told me about it. Seems pretty cool."
"I think it sounds lame," he shrugs indifferently.
"What? Why?"
"I dunno, the whole Top 8 friends is kinda weird. Just sounds like one big popularity contest if you ask me."
"Yeah, I guess so," you agree.
"Besides, I don't even have eight friends."
"Oh shut up," you retort. "That's not true!"
"It's okay," Jeonghan chuckles. "I'm just not the kind of guy who has a lot of friends."
"We'll I'd put you in my Top 8," you tell him, but he rolls his eyes. "It's true, I would!"
"C'mon, y/n," he laughs. "You have so many friends."
"Mmm, not really," you reply. "Not ones I hang out with on the regular, anyway. It's mostly you and Mina these days."
"Well, thanks for hanging out with me," he says sheepishly.
"You say that like it's a charity case," you tease him. "I hang out with you because I like you, moron."
Jeonghan says nothing, sipping on his float instead, but the big grin creeping across his face is undeniable.
"So," you ask after a bite of grilled cheese. "Are you excited?"
"For the job?"
"No, for Christmas," you reply jokingly. "Yes, the job!!"
"I guess so," he shrugs. "Mostly I'm just nervous."
"Why?"
"Because what if I'm bad at it and they fire me?"
"Jeonghan, that is not going to happen."
"But I don't know what I'm doing!" he frowns.
"Dude, nobody knows what they're doing when they start a new job," you remind him. "Besides, they're going to train you! You'll learn the ropes in no time."
"What if I don't?"
"I find that hard to believe. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for, Hannie. Stop being so hard on yourself."
"Easier said than done," he replies lightheartedly, but his lack of confidence still shows.
"Why is that?" you inquire.
He thinks for a moment. "I don't know," he eventually answers. "Sometimes it just feels like there's a little voice in my head telling me I suck at everything and that I should just give up."
"I worry about you sometimes."
"I'm okay, I promise," he smiles softly at you. "Sorry for being sad so much."
"You don't have to apologize for that," you tell him firmly. "You're my friend and I'm here for you no matter what."
A couple remaining fries sit at the bottom of the basket, calling to you from the red-and-white checkered paper lining. You reach for them, but Jeonghan does too, your hands colliding over the table.
"Ope, sorry," he says timidly, retracting his hand. "You can have it."
"No, you take it," you insist, sliding the basket toward him. "You've got a long night ahead of you, you need the fuel. Speaking of, want another float?"
"No, it's oka—"
But you're already signaling to the waitress across the restaurant, pointing to Jeonghan's empty glass.
"I don't know why I asked," you tell him. "I already knew the answer."
The waitress quickly brings him a refill in a fresh glass, complete with his usual order of an extra cherry on top.
"Thanks, y/n," he smiles. "You're the best."
After you finish your meal and pay, Jeonghan drives you home. He pulls up next to the curb outside your apartment, putting the car into park and turning to face you.
"Thanks again for dinner," he smiles.
"Of course," you smile back. "I got ya. And I'll make sure to tune into WFVC tonight!"
Jeonghan chuckles, shaking his head. "I don't think I'm going to be on the air just yet. I think I gotta be less of a noob first."
"Well, I'll be thinking of you anyway," you tell him with a nod. He drops his head slightly, trying to hide his face behind his long hair.
"Besides, I wanna support the station — and maybe I'll find some new bands I like." You playfully give him a punch him in the arm. "Jut remember to relax, you're gonna crush it."
"I'll do my best," he promises.
"Good!" you nod, opening the passenger door and hopping out of the car. "Later skater," you smile at him, giving him a wave before shutting the door. He waves back, watching you walk toward your building, waiting until you've made it safely inside before shifting the car into gear and driving off.
[FOUR]
Jeonghan stands in the hallway, staring at the windowless, red door in front of him. He pulls a crumpled sticky note out of his jacket pocket, flattening it to reveal C-302 written in smudged pen. Looking up, he triple-checks the room number on the small metal plaque next to the door, but just as the first two times, it still reads C-302. The dozens of band stickers all over the door, some that look like they have been there for decades, are also a dead giveaway — this is it: the campus radio station. He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, then reaches for the door handle.
As the door swings open, a small, hectic room comes into view. Floor-to-ceiling shelves line every bit of wall, overflowing with endless stacks of CD cases; the rest of the room is crammed full of all sorts of audio and mixing equipment — some he recognizes, some he doesn't — and it seems that every bit of exposed surface is covered in show posters and even more band stickers. A too-small desk pushed against the far wall houses two computers, and at one of them sits a tough-looking man with a ponytail, seemingly older than himself, but not by much — perhaps a graduate student. The man peers up as Jeonghan enters the room.
"Hi, I'm Jeonghan," he says timidly. "I'm the new student employee, I was told to meet here at 9:45—"
"Yes, hello!" the man says cheerfully, hopping out of his seat and strutting across the room to give Jeonghan a very firm handshake. "I'm A.J., I'm the one running this joint for the most part — aside from Professor Sampson, of course. You're in undergrad, yeah?"
"Yes," Jeonghan replies politely, relieved that the man doesn't have the tough-guy demeanor he initially expected. "I'm a Junior."
"Awesome, well welcome to the team bro! Johnny's almost wrapped in the booth, and then you're on," he says, pointing his thumb back at the small window in the far wall; Jeonghan tries to peer through it, but all he can see is the top of the current DJ's head, clad with chunky headphones. "But don't worry — tonight I'll be showing you the ropes, so you just have to follow my lead. Cool?"
"Yeah, cool," Jeonghan nods in agreement.
"Excellent! Well, for starters, obviously we want to keep the volume to a minimum so there's no background noises when we're on air, but the soundproofing in the booth is good enough that you can talk at a regular volume out here and nobody's gonna hear ya. Just no screaming or anything crazy. As you can see over here," he says, pointing to the packed shelves. "We have quite a number of CDs on file. Now, I assume you're familiar with the station's catalogue?" Jeonghan nods, and A.J. continues. "Good. So you know we don't play anything that's even remotely popular — and if it's ever been on the radio, forget it. Most of our inventory is underground artists, garage bands, et cetera; the purpose of this station is to put a spotlight on new or small groups, show them some love and appreciation. So unless you're big into the local scene, you probably won't have heard of most of these bands."
Jeonghan skims over the nearest shelf, sure enough finding nothing familiar. Instead he finds jewel cases boasting all sorts of unheard-of band names — plunk!, Blister, Pisswizard, The Underwater Grandmas, and Groob, to name a few.
"Anyway, few ground rules. First, if the ON AIR sign is lit, you are live. Don't go saying anything you don't want hundreds of strangers to hear. Second, keep up with the queue, but also clean up after yourself. Don't leave loose CDs laying around, and make sure they go back into their actual cases — makes everyone's jobs easier."
Jeonghan nods attentively, trying not to seem nervous, but he feels like he's not doing a very good job. A.J. seems to notice too, but he claps Jeonghan on the shoulder and gives him a grin.
"Third, and this one's the most important if you ask me: just have fun. As long as you're doing a good job, just be yourself. Nothin' to stress over, I promise."
Jeonghan hears the booth door swing open; peering over A.J.'s shoulder, he sees a tall, dark-haired student stepping out into the main room.
"Ope, looks like we're on," A.J. says to him. "Johnny, this is Jeonghan, our new night shift guy."
Johnny walks over, shaking Jeonghan's hand enthusiastically. "Welcome! Nice to meet you, bro!"
"Thanks," Jeonghan replies, slightly intimidated by how friendly everyone is being, but he smiles politely at his new coworkers.
"Catch you guys 'round!" Johnny says as he takes off, giving the other two men a cheerful salute.
"Alright, the queue will be running for another 10 minutes or so," A.J. says as he enters the booth, pointing at the unlit ON AIR sign. "So in the meantime I can show you the basics…"
As promised, A.J. gives him the rundown, going over the master audio mixer controls, how to queue up songs, how to check the logs to see what's already been played, and a few different generic scripts for radio announcements.
"Like I said, you won't be talking on air just yet. But it's good for practice — and the more you practice the more natural it'll feel," he assures him. "Alright, we're coming up on the end of the queue. Grab some discs from that stack over there — doesn't matter which ones, really — and get them ready, I'll make the announcement." He places the bulky headphones on, pulling the mic in front of him and waiting for the song's outro begin to fade. He signals to Jeonghan as he goes live, the ON AIR sign lighting up bright red above their heads.
"That was 'Bitchcraft' by the Lipstick Dollz, and you're listening to WFVC 90.5 — the hottest place for underground punk and badass rock n' roll," A.J. speaks effortlessly into the mic. "Coming up next for you this hour, we've got some more Doomcock, a few from Spaceshuttle, and The Mary Jane Planes with their newest track, "Reefer Renegade" — only here on WFVC 90.5. Don't you dare touch that fuckin' tuner!"
The ON AIR sign shuts off, its red glow disappearing as the next song begins to play.
"See? Pretty easy," A.J. grins.
"Damn, that sounds so cool when you do it," Jeonghan tells him shyly.
"Don't sweat it, man. You'll get the hang of it in no time!"
Jeonghan isn't so sure, but he tries not to let the negative thoughts win. A.J. has him running the broadcast mixer, learning how to fade in and out and how to balance everything just right. He picks up on it faster than he expected, and the rest of the late-night shift seems to fly by. The job isn't the most exciting thing, but it's fun and interesting — and Jeonghan finds he enjoys even the monotony of mindlessly shelving CDs back into their places. But it seems that as soon as there's a lull in the job, you pop into his mind. By the time it's the middle of the night, he's certain you must have gone to bed by now — but he wonders if you were actually listening earlier. Did she like the music? he muses. Did she think of me at all?
He doesn't know the answer, but he really hopes you did.
The next day, Jeonghan doesn't show up to class.
You don't actually have any classes with him this semester, but after your Advanced Creative Writing class you always meet him in the quad underneath the usual tree. He's usually there first, so you waited for him for about 10 minutes — but he never showed.
Fortunately, his apartment is within walking distance from campus, so you make your way there. You knock on his door, but no response. You try again, a bit louder; after a few moments you hear footsteps from within the unit, shuffling their way toward the front door. The door swings open, revealing a messy-haired Jeonghan wearing pajamas, looking very much like you just woke him up.
"Have you been sleeping all day??" you ask with a grin.
"I guess so," he answers, placing his hand over his mouth as he yawns. "What time even is it?"
"3:23pm," you read from your wristwatch.
"Holy shit," he grumbles. "I slept through everything."
"You must've been exhausted," you point out. "Sorry for waking you up, I just wanted to make sure you were alive."
"No, no — don't apologize," he shakes his head. "Here, come on in," he says as he swings the door open, traipsing back into the apartment. "I'll make us some coffee."
You follow your sleepy friend into his kitchen, where he locates a bag of coffee grounds and starts to brew a fresh pot.
"Soooo," you say eagerly, sitting down at the kitchen table. It's stacked with books, CDs, piles of mail, and one very ripe-looking banana sitting atop a toppled box of Lucky Charms — but you're able to clear off enough space for two coffee mugs. "How was it? Tell me everything!"
"It was actually really good!" he responds enthusiastically, leaning against the counter. The warm aroma of hot coffee drifts across the room as the dark liquid begins to drip into the carafe. "Nothing particularly exciting, since I was just training. But it's all super cool, I think I'm really going to like it."
You haven't seen Jeonghan this excited about something since he scored tickets to the blink-182 concert last summer. He's become one of your closest friends, so you know that he's generally a bit of a melancholy guy — but seeing him so passionate about something really warms your heart. Happiness is a good look on him, you think to yourself.
"What's that look for?" he inquires, raising his brow at you.
"Nothing! I'm just really excited for you," you smile at him. "I was listening last night, you know."
His face lights up. "You were?" he asks eagerly The pot begins to sputter as the coffee finishes brewing; he grabs two mugs, filling them with the beverage: one cup black, for himself, and one with a tablespoon of sugar, for you.
"Of course! I said I was going to, didn't I?"
"You did," he smiles, bringing the mugs to the table and setting yours in front of you. You take a sip — it's piping hot, but it's delicious. "Didja hear any new songs you liked?"
"Yeah, I really liked all of it! There was one band called something weird that I enjoyed, I think it was 'Beenis'?"
Jeonghan laughs. "Yeah, I recall seeing a Beenis in the mix. Hey, speaking of new bands…"
He gets up, fetching his backpack and pulling a slightly-bent bright yellow piece of paper from it. He hands it to you, and you see that it's a flier for a show down at Dizzy's Tavern, a local dive bar known for it's cheap beer and loud, live rock music. The two bands listed are Fuckwagon and The Flagstaff Arizonas — names you've certainly never heard of before, but then again you're not too acquainted with the local music scene.
"My boss told me about this show tonight, apparently Fuckwagon are a pretty well-known name around the station. Said they're always bringing in new demos and singles for us to play," he explains. "I don't work tonight, and I don't know what you're up to, but I thought maybe we could go check it out."
"I'm down! I have nothing else going on today, and that sounds fun!"
"Sweet," Jeonghan replies casually, trying to contain his excitement, but his face is positively beaming. "I'll pick you up at 7:45, then?"
"Sounds like a plan," you grin back at him.
[FIVE]
Dizzy's Tavern is, for lack of better words, a shithole. As you step through the front door you are immediately hit with a wall of cigarette smoke that is somehow both stale and fresh. It's dark inside, the only source of lighting being the red lights above the bar and neon signs of various beer brands hanging around the walls; despite the dim environment, the dinginess of the establishment is still glaringly obvious. The place is a decent size, but it's packed — there are people of all ages, most of whom seem to be clad in leather jackets, and many with hair dyed unnatural colors or a multitude of piercings. The vibe of the place certainly screams punk.
"Holy shit, it's crowded," you remark to Jeonghan as you both shuffle into the crowded bar area.
"We don't have to stay if it's too much—" he quickly offers.
"No, it's okay!" you assure him. "I just think this will be more fun once I have a drink or two in me," you say lightheartedly.
"What do you want to drink?" he asks, grabbing onto your arm gently as you meander through the throng of bodies as not to get separated.
"Jack and Coke," you answer. He raises a brow at you.
"Oh so we're drinking drinking tonight," he smirks.
"Hey, you get whatever you want," you tell him, poking him in the chest. "You don't have to drink just because of me."
"Maybe I want to."
"Okay, just be careful though. I know how much of a lightweight you are."
"Hey!" he protests.
"Well, you are! Am I wrong?"
"No, you're right," he concedes with a smile. "As usual."
He finally gets the bartender's attention, ordering a Jack and Coke for the both of you. You sip it as you make your way through the crowd, holding onto Jeonghan as you head toward the small stage at the back of the bar. The band isn't on yet; according to the flier they should be on any minute now, but you have a feeling that being precisely punctual perhaps isn't very punk rock.
"Let's hang out here," you say, spotting a tiny, unoccupied high-top table off to the side. It's less crowded over here, and not too close to the stage. "I'm sure we will be able to hear just fine."
You're in the middle of a very non-serious debate about Halloween costumes when you spot a familiar face emerging from the nearby hall that leads to the bathrooms. It's Joshua, your weed dealer, and you unintentionally make eye contact with him. His face lights up with recognition, and he waves at you, heading in your direction. Jeonghan looks over his shoulder, doing a poor job of hiding his grimace when he realizes who it is.
"Hey hey!" Joshua says cheerfully as he approaches your table. "What's up you guys?"
"Hi Joshua!" you tell him cheerfully. "We're here to see the show," you explain, nudging your head toward the still-empty stage. You want to ask him what exactly he's doing here, considering that this doesn't seem to be his scene in the slightest, but you figure that might be a bit rude.
"Oh, cool!" he nods eagerly. "Hey, by the way," he says, leaning in to the both of you. "I got some new school supplies coming my way soon, if you catch my drift." He winks at Jeonghan, nudging him playfully with his elbow. "I'll make sure to save the good stuff for you."
Jeonghan stands there frozen with awkwardness at Joshua's directness. "Um," he finally manages to reply. "Yeah, uh, that sounds cool. Thanks."
"Awesome!" Joshua smiles at him sweetly. Turning back to you, he gives you a casual salute.
"Well, I gotta bounce," he excuses himself. "Catch you guys on the flip side."
Once he's out of earshot, you turn to Jeonghan, giving him a knowing look.
"Told you," you tease. "He's like that with everyone."
"Okay, okay, fine," he huffs, raising his hands defeatedly, but a smile spreads across his face. "I believe you now."
Several minutes later, the band finally comes out on stage, eliciting drunken cheering and whooping from the crowd of bar-goers.
"What the fuck is up!!!" the lead singer screams into the microphone. "We're Fuckwagon, and here's some fucking music!"
A screeching guitar riff begins, joined momentarily by crashing drums and a bassline that somehow already seems out of sync with the song. The lead singer appears to be playing the shrill guitar, and the bass player also has a mic; they start singing in tandem — sort of. You're not sure if the sounds coming from either of them can even be considered singing, but they proceed regardless, wailing into the mics as the drummer is already flailing crazily at the drum set. You nod your head to the beat as best you can; turning to Jeonghan, you see he also wears a stunned expression, staring blankly at the raucous scene on the stage.
"Is this the same song or a new one?" you ask him a few minutes later, leaning in to speak into his ear.
"Fuck if I know," he shrugs. He tosses back the rest of his drink, picking up your empty glass as well. "Want another one?"
"Yeah, definitely."
He returns a few minutes later with two fresh Jack and Cokes in hand. The lead singer has somehow already taken his shirt off, revealing a plethora of tattoos that you personally would consider hideous. You and Jeonghan down the drinks fast — unintentionally, but anything to make the music more tolerable. There seems to be no distinction from one song to the next, the night going by in a non-stop cacophony of hard, grungy rock sounds. You don't pay too much attention to the music though, instead talking and laughing with Jeonghan the whole time.
"That's not even the weirdest part," Jeonghan continues his story, resting his elbow on your shoulder as he leans in close to your face. "The next week, I get home and the apartment is filled with boxes of potatoes. Turns out, Jun had built a potato cannon, and he thought he had placed an order for a hundred potatoes — but he had accidentally ordered a hundred ten-pound bags."
"Oh my god," you laugh in disbelief. "How did he not notice, wasn't it expensive??"
"I have genuinely no idea," Jeonghan shakes his head, also laughing. "He just does things like that sometimes."
"I think he has to be the strangest guy I've ever met," you respond. "I can't believe you live with him."
"Hey, he's a great roommate. He's clean, quiet, and half the time he's not even there — off doing god knows what."
"And that was our last song!!!" the lead singer screams into the mic over the drummer continuing his solo despite the song having ended. "Goodnight motherfuckaaaas!!!"
The band exits the stage, the next band already setting up their instruments.
"Thank god," you say to Jeonghan, who is all but fully leaning on you at this point. You pick his drink up off the table, finishing it off before he can drink any more; he doesn't seem to notice.
"You think the next band will be any better?" he asks you, his face mere inches from yours, heavy eyelids blinking slowly in his drunken state.
"There's no way they can possibly be worse than that."
You were wrong. Despite it being harsh and grating, the first band at least had upbeat rock music; the new band consists of six people, one of whom plays the trumpet, and all of whom barely fit on the stage — and their music is dull, drawn-out, and extremely repetitive. You're not sure if lead singer is drunk or if he just sounds like he is, but either way, it's borderline insufferable.
You turn to Jeonghan, about to suggest you call it a night, but he clearly has the exact same thought.
"Should we… leave?"
"Yeeaaaah," you nod eagerly in agreement. "We should leave."
It's even colder now as you step out of the bar, but despite the chilly autumn wind the fresh, smoke-free air feels delightful.
"So," Jeonghan asks as you stroll down the sidewalk together. He drove you to the bar, but neither one of you seem to recall that detail — but you're both too drunk to drive, anyway. "What did you think of… that?"
"I think it sucked shit," you reply honestly. Jeonghan bursts out laughing, making you start giggling too.
"Yeah, that was pretty terrible," he agrees. "Sorry I dragged you to this."
"Don't be!" you insist. "I still had a good time."
"Good," Jeonghan replies, a smile lighting up his face. "I did too."
Though your apartment is further than his, he walks you home first. The alcohol in your system has kept you warm all night, but the cold nighttime breeze is starting to get to you. You shiver, tugging the sleeves of your sweater down over your hands and tucking them into you as you cross your arms to try and stay warm.
"Here," Jeonghan tells you as soon as he notices, immediately taking his jacket off.
"No, I'll be fine—" you start, but he's already wrapping it around your shoulders. The jacket is warm, both from its thick leather and Jeonghan's body heat. You accept it graciously, slipping your arms into the baggy sleeves and zipping it all the way up.
"Thanks," you tell him sincerely. "You're the best."
In the dim orange-y glow of the incandescent streetlamps it's hard to tell, but Jeonghan blushes, his face turning even pinker than the alcohol made him.
You arrive outside your apartment a few minutes later.
"Well, goodnight," Jeonghan smiles at you. To his surprise, you suddenly throw your arms around him, leaning your head against his shoulder as you hug him. He tenses up slightly as his inebriated brain tries to process what's happening, but slowly he wraps his arms around you too, sinking into your embrace. It only lasts a few seconds, but the moment simultaneously feels hours long and also over way too fast.
"Goodnight," you reply as you let go, waving as you turn toward the sidewalk to head home. "Get home safe, okay?"
"I will," he nods softly. He watches until you've made it inside, then turns to head back to his own apartment, wondering if you knew that you just completely flipped his world upside down.
[SIX]
You wake up the next day uncomfortably hot.
Prying your eyes open, you see that you're in your living room. Apparently, you were too tired to make it all the way to your bedroom, so you just crashed on the couch, still wearing your shoes and Jeonghan's jacket. Your arm feels like lead as you try to lift it, peering at your watch: 12:16pm.
"Holy shit," you grumble as you hoist yourself up into a sitting position, your head pounding with a killer hangover. A few seconds later, Mina walks into the room.
"Jesus Christ, you're a mess," she tells you bluntly. "What the hell did you do last night?"
"Um, went to a shitty bar and saw a shitty band," you answer, rubbing your aching eyes. "Scratch that — two shitty bands."
"With your boyfriend, I assume?" she asks, glancing at the oversized leather jacket with its many pins and buttons.
"He's not my boyfriend," you mumble through a yawn, shimmying out of the jacket and neatly placing on the armrest next to you.
"Well, you knew who I was talking about without me even saying his name, soooo…"
"Shut uppp," you groan, flopping your tired head onto the back of the couch. With a pleased grin, she heads into the kitchen. You close your eyes, nodding off again, but soon you start to smell fresh coffee, and hear the sound of a sizzling skillet. A few minutes later, Mina returns, carrying a large mug of steaming coffee and a plate of fried eggs and pancakes.
"Here, eat," she says firmly, setting the plate and mug in front of you on the coffee table.
"Thanks, Mina," you smile at her.
After devouring your breakfast, you hop in the shower, standing there under the hot stream of water for far too long — but, you feel a million times better afterward. You toss on some sweats and decide to work on some homework from your bed. After a surprisingly productive afternoon, make your way back to the kitchen to find some dinner. On your way there, you pass by the couch, spotting Jeonghan's jacket still laying there. You feel bad that you didn't remember to give it back last night — after all, this is quite literally his only jacket. You're figure you should just take it over to him after you eat dinner. But, you're pretty sure he mentioned that he was working tonight; and since it's getting late and campus is a closer walk for you anyway, you figure you'll just try and drop it off at the station.
Your walk to campus is eerily empty. You've never seen this few people around, but it is Saturday night, after all. Most people are probably either at home or partying off-campus by this point. You approach the Comms building, suddenly worried that the door might be locked at this hour; but its swings right open when you pull it, and you let yourself inside. You've only had a couple classes in this building before, so you're not familiar with its layout, and you realize you have no idea where the radio station is actually located. You're about to start wandering down the halls in a random direction when you spot a directory by the staircase. The station appears to be on the top floor, so you head up the stairs.
There's no signage for the station, but you figure the bright red door with all the stickers all over it is probably the one you need. You knock at the door quietly, just now realizing that maybe this was a bad idea and that you shouldn't be here. You consider turning around and leaving before you can bother anybody, but then the door swings open. A tough-looking man with long hair and a beard pokes his head out.
"Hi, so sorry to bother you," you tell him apologetically. "But I was wondering if Jeonghan was working tonight? I just wanted to drop off his jacket."
"Oh!" the man replies with a smile, looking suddenly much less intimidating. "Yeah, he's here, come on in!"
You're not sure what exactly you thought a college radio station that plays punk music would look like, but this place seems to fit the bill. You don't see Jeonghan, but then the man points his thumb back to the small window in the far wall.
"He's in the booth right now, but I'll go grab him once we cut to commercial," he tells you. "I'm A.J., by the way," he adds, extending his hand to you.
"Y/n," you introduce yourself.
"Oh, so you're y/n!" A.J. responds amicably. "I've heard all about you.""
"Oh," you reply, feeling your face turn hot suddenly. "Really?"
"Yeah, Jeonghan talks about you all the time. All good things, though, I promise," he smiles. "Hey, I gotta go fax something real quick — just hang out in here for a sec, I'll be right back."
He exits the room, and you walk over to the window, peering into the booth. There's a lot of equipment in the way, but you spot the back of Jeonghan's head, clad with headphones and bobbing his head to whatever must be playing on the radio right now. You can't see his face, but you get the sense that he really is enjoying the job.
A.J. returns in a couple minutes. He waits outside the booth door, glancing at the lit-up ON AIR sign overhead.
"I'll go grab him as soon we're not on air," he tells you. Sure enough, it shuts off a few seconds later, and he slips into the booth. Watching through the window, you see Jeonghan turn around to greet his boss; A.J. points to you through the window, and Jeonghan turns, his face lighting up when he sees it's you.
"Hey!" he says cheerfully as he comes out to greet you. "What are you doing here?"
"Just returning your jacket I accidentally stole from you," you say, extending the garment to him.
"Oh yeah," he chuckles, taking the jacket from you. "I didn't even realize until I was almost home, I was wondering why I was so cold."
"Sorry," you smile apologetically.
"Don't even worry about it," he smiles back at you. "Thanks for bringing it to me, you didn't have to do that."
"Yes I did. I know for a fact that you don't own any other jackets," you tease.
"Okay, you got me there," he grins.
"How's the job going?" you ask.
"It's great!" he answers with more enthusiasm than you're used to from him. "I'm can officially run the show and be on air by myself now, no more supervision required."
"That's so cool," you beam at him. "You seem like you're really liking it so far."
"Yeah," he nods. "I definitely am."
"Well, I should let you get back to work now," you tell him. "Hope you have a good rest of your shift."
"Thanks, y/n," Jeonghan smiles warmly. "See ya later."
The end credits to Law & Order: Special Victims Unit begin to play as you lay on the couch, eating potato chips straight from the bag. It's not particularly the most exciting Saturday night you could be having, but you're enjoying the relaxing night in. You're not really in the mood to keep watching TV, so you grab the remote and shut it off. Mina isn't home yet, so you figure you'd take this opportunity to play your music out loud without wearing headphones. You get up and shuffle over to the boombox perched on the bookshelf, turning it on; it's tuned to the local pop station — clearly Mina used it last. You enjoy this station too, but your mind flashed back to Jeonghan in the booth. Maybe I'll hear him on the air, you think to yourself excitedly. You change the tuner to 90.5 and are greeted by the heavy tune of an unfamiliar but grungy-sounding song.
Plopping back on the couch you reach for your bag of chips again — but over the crinkling of the bag as you stick your hand in it, a very familiar voice comes through on the radio.
"You're listening to WFVC 90.5, the hottest place for underground punk and badass rock n' roll. The track you just heard was "Beautiful Monster" by Meatglove, one of their earliest and most iconic releases. Up next — we've got some Death Day Party for you, as well as a classic from Wunderguts; but first, some local flavor from Z-41 with their newest track "Hell Highway."
You're a bit taken aback by the confidence and air which he delivered his spiel. You can tell he's still getting used to it, but you swear you've never heard him sound so self-assured. The crashing drums of the next song begin; you're getting a bit sleepy, but you're comfy — so you end up laying on the couch for another hour or so, zoned out as you enjoy the music. You're halfway asleep when Mina returns home, so out of it that you don't even hear her come in; but you do hear Jeonghan's voice over the speakers, making you smile as your eyes start to drift close.
"I assume that's your boyfriend on the radio?"
Your eyes shoot open again at the sudden sound of Mina's voice. Looking up, you see her looming above you as she stands beside the armrest.
"I didn't even hear you come in," you tell her, rubbing your tired eyes.
"Yeah, I can tell," she teases. "You wouldn't be swooning and gushing over him like that if you knew I was here."
"I was not," you roll your eyes. "I was like half-asleep."
"Mhmm. Well, I'm going right to bed — goodnight!"
And with that, you're alone with the radio again.
While the commercials play, an idea pops into your head. You remember Jeonghan making an off-hand comment about how the station does take requests — it's just that hardly anyone ever calls them in. You consider for a minute, and then decide, fuck it.
You get up again, quietly heading over to the landline. You're don't actually know the number, so you flip through the phone book, perusing the thin yellow pages for the station. Eventually, you spot it: Foxville College Communications Department, WFVC 90.5 — 555-1004.
You dial the number, the line ringing as you wait for it to connect. You realize you're not even sure what exactly it is you planned to request, considering that the station only plays underground stuff. Anything you would normally request on the radio is off the table.
Before you can think of something, the line picks up.
"WFVC 90.5, we have a caller live on the air," you hear Jeonghan answer the call. "Hi there, whatcha calling for?"
Your stomach drops a bit — you weren't expecting him to actually pick up live on the air. You're not a shy person, but the thought that a bunch of random strangers can hear you right now does make you at least a little bit nervous.
"Hi!" you say cheerfully, careful not to be to so loud as to wake Mina. "Um, I was hoping I could call in a request."
"Of course you can!" he answers. You were wondering if Jeonghan would recognize your voice, but the slight pause and the upward shift in his voice tells you he definitely does. "What are you looking for?"
Thinking on the fly, you say the first thing that pops into your head.
"Well, I don't actually have a specific song in mind," you reply. " Can you play me something upbeat and happy? A song I'd play if I was just chilling with my friend or something."
"I sure can," Jeonghan responds, and you swear you can hear the smile in his voice. "What's your name?" he remembers to ask at the last second — of course, he already knows, but he makes sure he sticks to the script.
"Y/n," you tell him.
"Well, y/n, thanks for calling in — we appreciate ya. Got a special one just for you coming up right now: this one's called 'Heart Attack', by good friends of the station, Fever Baby — right here on WFVC 90.5!"
The call ends, the flat tone humming in your ear. You put the receiver back, heading back into the living room. You're not entirely sure how radio requests work, but you assume there's some sort of slight delay. Sure enough, right as you return the end of your call plays, followed by a light and rhythmic guitar strumming — the song he chose for you. You sit down as you listen, the melody picking up with a bright atmosphere. The song is exactly the vibe you were looking for, and you like it a lot. Turns out the band has a female lead too, something you always love, especially in this genre of music. You must've said that once a long time ago, in some off-hand comment, but Jeonghan remembered. That's the thing about Jeonghan, though — he always does.
[SEVEN]
The semester passes by, days getting shorter and temperatures getting lower as the final weeks of fall come to a close. School has kept you plenty busy, with midterms and papers taking up the majority of your time. You haven't been able to have as much of a social life as you would like, which isn't particularly unusual for this time of year; but Jeonghan especially has been busy — late nights at the station have caused his sleep schedule to shift significantly, rendering your schedules largely incompatible. You miss him, and you really hope you can find a way to hang out with him soon.
You're sitting in your apartment studying one night when the phone rings. The phone doesn't have caller ID, but you expect it's one of Mina's friends calling, as she likes to chat on the phone more often than you do. She's not home right now, so you could easily just let it go to voicemail, but something in you feels the urge to answer.
"Hello?" you answer as you pick up, grabbing the nearby stack of sticky notes and a pen in case you need to take a message.
"Hey y/n," you hear Jeonghan say softly through the line.
"Hannie!" you say, surprised but excited to be hearing his voice. "How's it going? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!"
"I know, I've been so busy," he concurs. "I'm tired as hell, but I'm okay. How are you?"
"Same, I'm exhausted but I'm getting by. How's the DJ life treating you?"
"It's good!" he answers eagerly. "I mean, that's why I'm so tired. But in a way it also kinda gives me an energy boost. I know that probably sounds crazy…"
"Not at all," you smile. "That means you really like it! I'm so glad it ended up being a great fit for you."
"Me too," he agrees. "I've been so happy lately. Except for the fact that we haven't hung out like, at all. That part sucks."
"We gotta find some time to hang," you say assertively.
"Actually, that's why I'm calling," he replies. "The Comms Department is having this social thing on Friday night. I wasn't really planning to go, but guests are allowed if you'd wanna come with me. There's gonna be free food."
"Hell yeah, I'm always down for free food," you grin — though, you're much more excited about getting to see Jeonghan finally.
"Cool! It starts at 7, I'll drop by your place around then and we can walk to campus together."
"Sounds good," you say excitedly. "Is this like, a formal event?"
"Um, I don't think so? But like, maybe a little?"
"I'll dress up at least a little, then," you tell him. "I'd rather be overdressed than underdressed."
"Good idea, I'll do the same. Well, I gotta head to work in a few minutes, so I gotta go."
"Have a good shift!" you tell him. "See ya on Friday."
"See ya then, y/n."
Friday afternoon you start rummaging through your closet, looking for something to wear to the social later. You have a few hours until you need to be ready, but you figured you'd give yourself a little extra time to make yourself look at least a little bit nice. It's been a while since you've had an excuse to dress up anyway, so what the hell, why not.
Nothing is particularly catching your eye as you flip through the hangers, until you get to the end and spot a brand new skirt you had completely forgotten about. You pull it out to look at it; it's a black pinstripe pleated mini skirt, brandishing a built-in belt, and it still has the tags on. A bit on the casual side, but you figure if you pair it with a nice sweater and tights that don't have any holes in them the outfit will look just the right amount of sophisticated for the occasion.
Digging through your dresser drawer, you take a look at your sweaters. Most are a bit too tattered, and about half of them are just sweatshirts featuring a band logo, but you do find a deep maroon sweater that you rarely wear. You lay it on your bed above the skirt and grab a pair of tights to lay out as well; all put together, it actually looks pretty nice.
You throw your outfit on and spend a little bit longer than usual putting makeup on, adding some shimmery eyeshadow and some tinted lip gloss to your usual routine of eyeliner and mascara. When you're done styling your hair, you take a look at yourself in the mirror. It's not that you usually look bad, but you definitely tend to dress more on the casual side, so you're pleasantly surprised by how put-together you look right now. Turns out, a little extra effort can go a long way.
You're reading your book a couple hours later when you hear a light knocking at your door. Hopping up off the couch you flutter over to answer it, opening the door to reveal Jeonghan looking the fanciest you've ever seen him. He's still in his leather jacket, of course — but underneath he wears a maroon button-down shirt and crisp black dress pants, and you've never seen his long hair so neat and styled.
"Holy shit, since when do you own dress pants?" you ask with a playful smirk.
"Hey, shut up," he pouts. "I know they look stupid."
"They do not!" you insist. "You look really nice, Jeonghan. I've just never seen you so dressed up. And we even matched on accident!" you chuckle.
"Looks like we did," he smiles. "You look really nice as well," he says, staring at your outfit for a moment but quickly averting his gaze. You typically wear clothes that are at least a little bit baggy, but this sweater fits you snugly, its thin knit fabric accentuating your every curve very flatteringly. Jeonghan tries not to think about it.
"Thanks! Here, let me put my shoes on and then we can bounce."
He steps inside as you grab your Doc Martens, leaning down to slip your feet into them and tighten the laces. Your back is to him as you bend over, and while your skirt isn't super short it does ride up a bit in the process, your thighs on full display through the sheer black tights. He ogles you as you tie the boots up, feeling his face grow hot. He knows you don't notice, but he forces himself to turn away before you do, prying his eyes off of you, but it's too late.
"Um, I'm gonna go pee real quick," he tells you, scurrying off to your bathroom.
"Okie dokie," you reply.
Jeonghan doesn't actually have to pee, but he locks himself in the bathroom anyway. He stares at himself in the mirror, still thrown off by how different he looks all cleaned up.
"Get it together man," he grumbles to himself.
A couple minutes later he returns.
"Ready?" you ask, grabbing your coat.
"Yep!" he says with a smile.
The walk to campus is cold, but there's no wind, so it's surprisingly pleasant. On your way there it begins to snow, huge flakes falling gently through the air and starting to accumulate on the ground. You arrive to the Comms Building, brushing the snow off your jacket before you step through its doors to the warm interior.
"You've got some in your hair, too," Jeonghan points out. You ruffle your hair lightly, shaking the snow off.
"So do you," you tell him, reaching up and brushing your fingers across his hair, brushing the stark white snow out of his long, dark locks. Jeonghan freezes up slightly, grateful that his cheeks are already pink from the cold so you can't see him blushing like an idiot.
"Thanks," he says softly.
You make your way to the end of the hall, where two doors propped open lead you into the event space. Immediately you see that despite your efforts, you are both still noticeably underdressed.
"Welp," he mumbles to you quietly. "Guess I didn't get the memo that this was actually fancy."
"It's okay," you reply reassuringly. "We still look nice." And it's true, but amongst all the suits and heels you still feel a bit out of place.
You make your way over to the food table together, grabbing plates and piling them high with the assortment of hors d'oeuvres on display. It earns you a few judgmental glares from a group of older adults standing nearby, but you're both broke college kids, so you don't really give a fuck.
"Let's go over there," Jeonghan says after you each grab a glass of wine, nudging his head toward the back of the room. You meander through the groups of professors and whomever else standing around and chatting, claiming the two chairs in the corner.
"So, what exactly is this event supposed to be again?" you ask him as you pop a fancy cracker with cheese on it into your mouth.
"Um, I don't actually know," he admits as he sips at wine, glancing around the room. "I thought it was for students and professors to meet each other, but I don't think any of these people are actually students…"
You look around too, and he seems to be right. Everyone is significantly older and distinguished-looking — very clearly not undergraduates.
"Oops," you say, trying not to smile too big. "Does that mean we just walked in here and stole their food?"
A grin starts to spread across his face. "Um, yeah. Looks like it."
He starts to giggle out loud, prompting you to subtly whack him in the leg.
"Shhh, people are gonna notice!" you whisper, but you feel the urge to start laughing too. A voice rings out over the speaker system as somebody starts talking into a microphone. The attendees all turn and face the small stage, where a woman in a sequined navy dress starts to speak.
"Should we go?" he asks quietly.
"Yeah, definitely," you reply, tossing back the rest of your wine. "But let's grab some more food on the way out."
Jeonghan grins. "I like the way you think."
After piling the small plastic plates with as much food as you possibly can and grabbing another glass of wine each, you sneak out the back door of the room, quickly making your way towards the building's exit.
"Holy shit," Jeonghan laughs as you burst through the door returning you to the quad. "That was awesome."
"I love to steal free food," you giggle. The falling snow has picked up, blustering around calmly but shrouding everything in a sea of white. "C'mon," you say to him, zipping off toward your usual spot under the small oak tree. "Let's go over here."
You stand together beneath the branches, accepting their humble offering of any sort of cover as you scarf down the rest of the food on your plates.
"I guess we also technically stole these wine glasses," Jeonghan comments as he stares at the remaining red liquid in the bowl. "I didn't even realize they were real."
"Me neither," you say, finishing your drink. "Whoops."
Hors d'oeuvres and wine now gone, you toss the plates in a nearby trashcan, leaving the glasses sitting on the steps to the Comms Building and zooming off before somebody catches you. When you get off campus you slow your pace, strolling casually down the block through the deluge of snow.
"Maybe I should've driven," Jeonghan chuckles. "But also who wants to drive in this weather."
"True," you smile. "But I don't mind the snow. It's nice."
"Me neither."
You chat the whole walk home, taking and laughing about anything and everything and nothing at all. By the time you make it to your building, your cheeks hurt — not only from the cold but from smiling nonstop the whole night.
"Tonight was really fun — even if it wasn't what we expected," you say, turning to face Jeonghan.
"Same here," he smiles softly. "I'm glad I finally got to see you."
"Me too," you beam back. You're thinking about inviting him up, maybe to smoke a J or something, when suddenly his lips are on yours.
Your whole body freezes. His lips are soft, the kiss is sweet, but you were not prepared for it. Quickly he pulls his face back, his eyes widening with fear like a deer in the headlights.
"Sorry," he stammers, then takes off.
"Wait!" you call out after him. "Jeonghan!" But he's gone in the blink of an eye, running off down the street into the snowy night.
[EIGHT]
Almost an entire week passes, and you don't see or hear from Jeonghan once.
You tried calling him, but you just kept getting Jun, who seemed to be confused but didn't ask any questions. You tried to meet him after several of his classes, but he either wasn't there or managed to completely evade you. You even tried e-mailing him, but as you expected, no response.
So you gave up for the time being. You knew he wasn't going to avoid you forever, that eventually he would come back. But damn, you hated waiting for it.
It's now Thursday night. Six nights have gone by, and still radio silence from Jeonghan. You're not even upset with him, you just want to talk to him. There's too many questions swimming around in your brain right now — you can hardly think about anything else.
Why did you kiss me?
Why did you run away?
Why have you been so scared to talk to me?
Do you love me?
The living room boom box softly plays the local classic rock channel as you lay at the couch, staring at the ceiling and thinking too much. For reasons you can't explain, you suddenly get up and go change the tuner to 90.5. You lay back down, unsure what exactly the point of that was, but also you don't really care. You're not even sure if Jeonghan is working tonight, and even if he is it's too early for him to be on — but the radio station is enough to remind you of him. You feel tears begin to well in your eyes, blinking them away quickly.
The DJ eventually comes back on the air; as expected, it's not Jeonghan, but that doesn't make you any less sad about the whole situation. The next song that comes on sounds vaguely familiar, and awful; it occurs to you about two minutes into the song that this sounds like that terrible band you saw at that bar — Fuckwagon or whatever. The one you saw with Jeonghan.
Tears begin to stream down your cheeks. Unable to shut them down, you just let them flow, softly sobbing into the couch.
This is so fucking stupid, you tell yourself. I'm crying to a Fuckwagon song right now. You let out a laugh through your tears, in disbelief of how utterly stupid this scenario is. After crying for a few more minutes, you eventually calm back down. Your mind is a bit clearer now, and you come to the realization that there's nothing stopping you from marching over there right this instant and putting an end to this nonsense.
Fifteen minutes later, you're standing outside Jeonghan's apartment. All that's left is to knock, but now that you're here that part feels daunting. You take a deep breath, slowly raising your hand to the door, then you knock. It comes out a bit more aggressive than you meant it, but you hope that means he'll hear you right away. You hear footsteps trodding toward the door, and then it opens.
"Oh, hi y/n," Jun greets you. He looks frazzled, like you just woke him from a thousand-year slumber.
"Hey, Jun. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," you tell him apologetically.
"Oh, I wasn't asleep," he replies nonchalantly. You're about to ask him what the hell he was doing then, but you decide some questions don't need to be answered. Besides, that's not why you're here.
"Is Jeonghan here?" you cut to the chase. "I was hoping to talk to him."
"Sorry, no," he shakes his head. "You just missed him — he left for work about ten minutes ago."
"Dammit," you mutter.
"Has he still not talked to you since he kissed you?"
You look up at Jun, a perplexed expression coloring your face. "You know about that?"
"Yes," he replies matter-of-factly. "He came home right after that and was freaking out about it. He wasn't exactly very coherent, but through his ramblings I got the general picture."
"Did he say why he was freaking out?" you try.
"He was scared that it was a mistake, that he fucked it all up."
"Fucked what all up?" you ask, furrowing your brow. "Our friendship?"
Jun lets out a gentle sigh. "So you didn't know, then," he says softly. "Jeonghan is in love with you, y/n. Has been since the day he met you."
You make it to campus in record time, speed-walking as fast as you can, zooming across the quad directly toward the Comms Building. You're out of breath as you enter, groaning as you spot the three flights of stairs you now have to climb. But you move quickly anyway, your body seemingly unable to slow down for anything.
This time you don't even bother knocking on the red door. You fling it open, expected to have to come up with some sort of explanation on the fly with his boss, but you are greeted by an empty office. The door slowly closes behind you as you walk over to the booth window. Peering in, sure enough you can see the top of his head as he sits at the broadcast mixer. The ON AIR sign above you is lit; you wait for the red light to shut off, then you knock on the booth door. Jeonghan turns around slowly, looking confused, but then he sees you standing outside the window. His eyes widen, and he leaps out out of his chair, bolting to the door and swinging it open.
"What are you doing here??" he asks, looking genuinely surprised.
"I don't want to get you in trouble, but we have to talk."
"Nobody else is here tonight," he replies. "Here, come inside."
He shuts the door behind you as you enter, but as soon as he does you grab him by the arm and spin him around to face you.
"What the—"
"Why did you run away?"
"I—" He pauses for a moment. "That's… not what I thought you were going to ask," he admits.
"What? Why?"
"Well, I just thought you were going to ask me why I kissed you first."
"Okay," you reply. "Then why did you kiss me?"
Jeonghan sighs, dropping his head slightly; but a moment later he lifts it again, looking you directly in the eyes.
"I kissed you because I love you, y/n. I ran away because I was scared you didn't love me back, and I wasn't prepared to face that reality."
His gaze is locked onto yours so intensely that you feel like you might burst into flames. He looks like he's experiencing every emotion at once, anxiously waiting for you to say something, anything. But you don't know what to say, so you do what only feels right — you throw your arms around him, pulling him into your embrace.
He gasps softly as you squeeze him tight, burying your face into his chest; you can feel the accelerating pace of his heart, thumping against your cheek. He instinctively wraps his arms around you, leaning his head on top of yours.
"I love you too," you say softly. "I didn't realize it for a while — but it's so obvious to me now."
He kisses the top of your head, rubbing your back as you nuzzle your face deeper into his sweater.
"That's the best news I've ever heard."
You could stay here in his embrace indefinitely, but eventually you lift your head, looking deeply into his eyes.
"Kiss me — but for real this time."
Slowly, Jeonghan grabs your face with both hands, eyeing you hungrily before pulling you into a kiss. This time it's slow, sweet; you slip your hands around his waist, clinging to him as you savor it. Your heart pounds in your chest as your lips tug at each other, refusing to let go, pressing your body into his and pushing him up against the door. A soft, involuntarily moan emanates from his throat, and you feel the stiff, growing bulge in his pants against your stomach.
Eventually your lips part, lingering near each other as he presses his forehead into yours.
"Holy shit," he mutters. "I can't believe this is really happening."
He drops his hands from their grasp on your head, unzipping your coat and taking it off of you; tossing it on a nearby desk, he hurriedly slips his hands around your waist, kneading at the soft flesh and holding your body tightly against him. He feels slightly embarrassed by how quickly he got a full-fledged boner, but he's too aroused to care — besides, judging by the burning desire in your eyes, you're feeling the exact same thing right now.
"You're perfect," he tells you, cracking a smile and blushing as the words leave his lips. You grin back, giving him another soft kiss before taking hold of his hands.
"C'mere," you say to him, dragging him over to the sound mixer.
"What are you—oh." You cut him off by giving him a slight push, sitting him down into the thick, sturdy chair. You straddle his lap, pressing your core against his bulge, rubbing yourself against it through both of your jeans.
"Fuck," Jeonghan gasps as your weight presses against his cock; you lean your head down to kiss him again, locking lips as you start to make out, mouths crashing and tongues eagerly dancing against each other. Eventually you begin to sway your hips, unable to contain your excitement. You gasp as your mouths part, tossing your head back as you grind against him harder; his arms around you squeeze tighter, pulling you in as close as physically possible. His face presses against your tits as he rubs his hands over your ass, guiding you as you rock back and forth on top of him.
"Oh my god…" he sighs. He tosses his head back, and you swoop in, kissing the delicate flesh of his neck, making him let out the most pathetic-sounding groan. You moan as you grind your heat against him, getting the both of you off at once.
"F-fuck, that's so hot," his voice wavers.
"If I keep doing this it's gonna make me cum," you tell him, starting to sound whiny and frantic.
"Oh my god, please do."
You increase your pace, pressing your aching clit against his clothed cock. It feels incredible — you simply can't help the soft little cries escaping your lips.
"Can I…" Jeonghan asks, tugging at the button of your jeans.
"Please," you say breathily as you eagerly nod your head. He unfastens the button, tugging down your zipper and opening your pants enough for him to slip his fingers beneath your underwear. You let out a whimper as his fingertips dip into your folds, his lips parting lustfully as he discovers the absolute pool of wetness in your panties right now.
"Fuck," you whine, rubbing your clit against his fingers with fervor. A burning fire builds in your gut, your whole body tensing in anticipation of your release. It washes over you in bursting waves, your body trembling atop Jeonghan as you ride out your orgasm. As your movement slows, you catch your breath, lifting your head to kiss him on the lips. As you open your eyes you get a glimpse at him, you find him looking utterly desperate, and ready to bust at any given moment. You let out a giggle, still in a daze from your high; but you slip off the chair, kneeling down before him between his legs.
"Oh my god, you're gonna kill me," he half-laughs, half-whines. He raises his drenched fingers to his mouth, lapping your juices up feverously, eyes rolling back as he savors the taste of you. You slowly unbuckle the studded leather belt around his waist, unbuttoning his jeans painfully slowly; he wriggles in his seat, silently pleading for you to take his cock out, for you to put your mouth over it…
Finally, you do — reaching into his boxers, you tug them down, wrapping your hand around his hard, thick cock and pulling it out.
"Holy shit," you blurt out, glancing up at him and giving him a giddy smile. "You've been packing this the whole time?!"
He bursts out laughing, cradling your cheek in his hand, slowly guiding your lips to his cock. You lightly circle the tip with your tongue, teasing him; he lets out a sigh, licking his lips as he watches you taste his cock. Slowly you take the head between your lips, suckling it lightly before you start to slide your mouth down his length. You're not even halfway down when it reaches the back of your mouth; you push down further, taking him in your throat, gagging audibly on his size.
"Ohhh, wow," he mumbles as his eyelids flutter back. "That's so good…"
His hips gently push upward as you bob your head up and down, feeding you more of his length as you slide it in and out of your mouth. Your noises escalate, pathetic whining growing louder as you start to increase your pace. He can't help himself — he starts to fuck his cock into your mouth, sliding deep into your throat. Tears well in your eyes, but you continue to stare up at him; the sight is enough to send him over the edge.
"Baby, 'm gonna cum," he groans. A few thrusts later, you feel ropes of hot cum shooting down your throat, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he releases. Soft whimpers escape his trembling lips as he cums hard in your mouth, relishing every moment of the delicious sensation. He strokes your head gently as he finishes; you swallow all his cum, slowly dragging your lips off his spent cock.
"Fuck," he sighs, melting into the chair. Opening his eyes, he looks down at you sweetly, his head still spinning from the orgasm. "Thank you."
"For sucking your dick?" you ask, starting to giggle.
"Yeah," he says with a stupid grin. "That was awesome."
He helps to you your feet, tucking his cock back inside his pants and zipping them up again. He pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you again.
"Sorry I kissed you and ran away like an idiot," he tells you, holding you snugly against him. "That was really stupid and embarrassing."
"You're not an idiot," you reply, playfully thumping him in the chest. "I like you just the way you are."
Jeonghan smiles. In the few years you've known him, you've never seen him radiating with genuine happiness like this — you decide it looks great on him.
[EPILOGUE]
You gasp for air as your head falls back into the pillows, chest heaving in the aftermath of your orgasm. Jeonghan remains parked between your legs, lazily lapping at your soaked pussy — his new favorite place to be.
"Fuck," you sigh, dragging your fingers through his hair. "That was so good."
He lifts his head, his mouth and chin glistening with your juices.
"Good," he replies, grinning at you proudly.
"Kiss me," you plead softly; he crawls up the bed to greet your lips with his, planting a deep kiss onto your mouth. A sudden knocking at your bedroom door makes the both of you jump.
"Hey lovebirds," Mina calls out through the door. "Your take-out just got here. I already paid for it, so you owe me $20."
"It was only $15!" you shout back.
"Service fee. For me," she responds cheekily, already walking away. You roll your eyes, laughing it off. Jeonghan starts kissing your cheeks, pecking gently as the soft skin.
"Hey, that tickles!" you giggle.
"But you look so pretty when you laugh," he replies, continuing to kiss you.
"You're ridiculous."
"I just love you, that's all."
He lifts his head, smiling at you sweetly.
"I love you too," you reply, beaming back at him. "We should go get our food before it gets cold—" you say, starting to try and sit up, but Jeonghan holds you pinned against the bed.
"Hey!" you protest, but he's already sliding back down the bed.
"You have a microwave," he says matter-of-factly, taking hold of your thighs as he positions his face right in front of your dripping core again.
"Besides, I'm not done here yet…"
thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed this fic, don't forget to REBLOG and COMMENT — your feedback is greatly valued ♡
sorry i’ve been absent. a LOT has been going on while i’ve been offline which i wont bore you with because i don’t want to complain every time i come on here lmao, but i am alive and still writing!!
i’ve got a number of things on my list to post so i’m gonna hash all those out in the next few weeks (touch wood) before taking a break from collabs.
i haven’t looked at asks yet but i will this week. thank you for being so patient with me!
Settle in with your coziest blanket and grab some popcorn, because it's time to SVTFLIX & chill! Hosted by @100vern, SVTFLIX is a Seventeen collab inspired by all of our favorite K-dramas. Whether you're in the mood for a romantic comedy that breaks the fourth wall or angsty magical fantasy, our talented cast of writers has you covered.
🍿 WHO'S WATCHING ✷ Sign up for the taglist here.
📺 ADD TO WATCHLIST ✷ Posting period is May 15th — July 15th.
Most of these titles include adult content, which is restricted to those 18 years of age or older. Minors are not welcome to engage with this content and will not be tagged in fics that contain it, even if requested.
📺 True Romance, starring Choi Seungcheol
after going on a blind date with false pretenses with the ceo of your company, things take a turn when he asks you to marry him to keep himself from ending up in an arranged marriage.
pairing: ceo!seungcheol x f. reader
genre: romance, smut, fluff, fake engagement, rom com at times, angst
rating: 18+
warnings: cussing, explicit sexual content, lying
✷ director: @straylightdream | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: business proposal
📺 Business Proposal, starring Yoon Jeonghan
finding out your boss is a misogynistic pig when you're up for the biggest promotion of your life is, to put it mildly, minorly inconvenient. finding out your ex is also a candidate? majorly infuriating. sometimes the only way to win is to not play… but other times the guy working a dead-end job at the convenience store near your apartment agrees to fake marry you so long as he gets what he wants out of the deal. too bad you can't stand each other.
pairing: jeonghan x f. reader
genre: fake dating, marriage of convenience au; mutual annoyances to lovers, miscommunication; crack, fluff, angst, smut
rating: 18+
warnings: capitalism, misogyny, adult content
✷ director: @100vern | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: no gain no love
📺 Guard of the Heart, starring Joshua Hong
You have a lot of standards to meet. You’ve always had. Your family, your company, your fans, they all expect the best from you. And while it is your company who signs your checks, you have yet to disobey your family. So, when your mother demands you go on a blind date to find yourself a competent husband to take over the family business, you listen. You go on a blind date and meet with the worst possible man you could imagine — Joshua Hong. Annoying, careless, Joshua, who manages to make an impression on you nonetheless. But you refuse to fall for him or his shenanigans, especially after the series of events following your first meeting.
pairing: demon!joshua x idol!f. reader
genre: romance, strangers to lovers, bodyguard romance, magic
rating: 18+
warnings: smut, blood, graphic descriptions of violence, obsessive fans, death threats
✷ director: @jakedustry | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: my demon
📺 You Again, starring Wen Junhui
it's been 10 years. since you last saw jun. since the break up that rocked you. since you've been back to this town. since you thought about any of this. but leave it to one of your closest friends to draw both you and jun back in and send your world spiraling again.
pairing: jun x f!reader
genre: attempts at humor, fluff, angst, smut, exes to ?
rating: 18+
warnings: smut, past relationship issues
✷ director: @starlightkyeom | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: our beloved summer
📺 Our Rented Marriage, starring Kwon Soonyoung
out of options when your roommate becomes engaged to her boyfriend, you find hope that maybe there you'll find your ground when you meet kwon soonyoung, your landlord, and the man who asked you to marry him for the sake of rent.
pairing: soonyoung x f. reader
genre: slice of life, romantic comedy, angst, marriage of convenience, strangers to lovers, slow burn, suggestive
rating: 18+
warnings: alcohol, smoking, miscommunication, harassment, misogynistic environments/workplace
✷ director: @mellow-wishes | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: because this is my first life
📺 Truly Madly Deeply, starring Jeon Wonwoo
Jeon Wonwoo is a brilliant programmer. The "what if" of your college years, he's back in your life in the most dramatic way. Yours and Wonwoo's internal Cells villages get into a state of chaotic, hilarious situations and things get interesting. Your Love Cell finally started to wake up from its deep slumber after your last devastating heartbreak. Jeon Wonwoo, has come to wake up every single Cell in your brain in the best way possible, to heal and to learn. To love again.
pairing: wonwoo x reader
genre: friends? to lovers, romance, fluff, slight angst, comedy, fantasy au, mutual pining
rating: 18+
warnings: strong language working environment, mentions of eating due to stress, past relationships, suggestive, a tiny little miscommunication, wonwoo is down bad
✷ director: @lovelylonelinesssvt | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: yumi's cells
📺 Crossing the Bridge to You, starring Lee Jihoon
When Jihoon returns to Daeho after three years, the last thing he expects is running into a woman who claims to be his fiancé. You, who have been stuck in Jinyowon for the past three years, rattle his world with your eccentric yet kind nature. Your boldness is new to him but so is your naivety; will he get his happy ending despite the tragedy that has bound him to guilt? Will you get yours after opposing your mother? Only time will tell.
pairing: sorcerer!jihoon x priestess!f. reader
genre: angst, fluff, fantasy, strangers to lovers, marriage of convenience
rating: 18+
warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, near death situation, memory loss, constant suffering, blood, posession and usage of weapons (swords, bow and arrow), murder, corpses, mentions of suicide, self-blame, lack of freedom and being locked up, messed up timeline of AOS s2 plot
✷ director: @cherrymayz | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: alchemy of souls
📺 Crumpled Paper and Metal Stars, starring Lee Seokmin
Your second semester of grad school has begun. Everything should be relatively easy, you've completed a semester and most of the people in your cohort adore your kindness and sunshine like disposition. Just as you're getting settled, an anonymous post ignites your semester. Instead of an easy sixteen weeks of learning, you're balancing teaching, a post that has the attention of literally everyone, and the personification of a gray cloud: Lee Seokmin.
pairing: grad student!seokmin x grad student!f. reader
genre: grumpy x sunshine, angst, university au, cohorts to lovers, fluff, secret relationship and the angst that comes with it, anonymous confession
rating: 18+
warnings: alcohol, seokmin is the grumpiest (lowk to the point where he's an asshole), mentions of academic burnout, mentions of a sick parent, suggestive scenes
✷ director: @gentleisa | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: dear m
📺 Oops!! We Broke the Plot, starring Kim Mingyu
You and Mingyu are childhood friends and two self‑aware comic characters that are forced into clichéd romcom roles you both hate. On the page, he’s the perfect jock and you’re the villainess; off the page, you’re a nerd–queen duo secretly in love. Fed up with scripted drama and unwanted love triangles, you rebel, glitching the comic as the Writer fights to force you back into place. What follows isn’t a romcom but a battle for agency, freedom, and the right to choose each other.
pairing: mingyu x f. reader
genre: romantic comedy, smut, angst, drama, childhood friends to lovers, meta, breaking the fourth wall(?)
rating: 18+
warnings: smut/nsfw content
✷ director: @xomakara | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: extra-ordinary you
📺 Universal Error, starring Xu Minghao
Being a doctor is hard work. Running your own fan page with over a thousand followers and translating a Chinese webtoon every week? Even harder. Being an avid reader and fan girl of the popular Chinese Webtoon, "Universal Error" turns your life upside down for the better as you translate it every week for your leaks page. However, when the finale turns dark and the main character, Xu Minghao's ending is left open-ended and undetermined. You thought your life couldn't get any worse, until an unforeseen circumstance happens that ends with you waking up in an alternate reality with Xu Minghao's life in your hands. Will you be able to change his reality or would you be left with a Universal Error yourself?
pairing: xu minghao x f. reader
genre: fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers, thriller, suspense, fantasy
rating: 18+
warnings: smut/nsfw content, talks about murder, weapons, blood
✷ director: @livmarauder | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: w: two worlds apart
📺 Cyber Love is Bullshit, starring Boo Seungkwan
You hate Love Alarm and everything that it stands for, especially since it's the reason why your last relationship ended. Now navigating through a society where people rely a machine to dictate who you fall for, you find a lone soul like yours who makes you believe in love again.
pairing: seungkwan x reader
genre: fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers, found family?
rating: 18+
warnings: talks of infidelity, sexual content
✷ director: @aeristudios | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: love alarm
📺 Rabbit, starring Vernon Chwe
Revenge is the only thing that kept you alive after your family’s betrayal. When the police force you to earn your place by infiltrating the same syndicate that destroyed you, you step back into a world that feels far too familiar - especially Vernon, who seems to see right through you.
pairing: vernon x f. reader
genre: mafia, criminal, angst, smut
ratings: 18+
warnings: violence, criminal behavior, explicit language, explicit content
✷ director: @sailorsoons | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: my name
📺 You Think You Know a Guy, starring Lee Chan
Chan’s grandmother says she disapproves, but he knows she doesn’t mind so long as he proves he can turn a profit before he's given a role in the family business. That’s the easy part, Chan thinks, since a friend in Tokyo says business is booming for his own boyfriend rental service. So he hires four good looking guys— the himbo, the stoic romantic, the playboy, and you, the pretty one. The hardest part, Chan thinks later, is stopping himself from looking your way. (Or: allegedly straight Chan questions his sexuality when all he can think about is the guy who works for him.)
pairing: boss!chan x afab reader
genre: fluff, angst, smut, strangers to lovers
rating: 18+
warnings: questioning sexuality and gender, employer/ee dynamic, queer themes, accepting family/friend group, accidental but non-malicious misgendering; reader is afab, uses she/they pronouns, and looks androgynous
✷ director: @imnotshua | pilot | full series
✷ inspired by: coffee prince
Please note that all information above is subject to change, including story content and posting deadlines. Writing is meant to be fun, so while all involved are encouraged to post by the deadline, we understand that shit happens! Our talented group of authors are as excited to release their work as you are to read it, so please be patient and kind. Thank you so much for your interest! ✷
ᯓ★ pairing: radio host! xu minghao x author! f.reader
ᯓ★ summary: Four novels in and you've developed the perfect system: rent a house, get a part time job, eat where the residents eat, drink where they drink, read the town paper, and listen to the local radio. Then, you lock yourself away for the night and write like someone who could call this place home. So this sleepy beach town is the ideal place to write your fifth novel– set in 1974, small town girl meets big city boy, who promises to visit every summer.
It'd be perfect... if it weren't for the evening DJ at Wave FM, who only ever seems to play music that kills your vibe.
ᯓ★ for: the first time caller collab, hosted by @studiosvt
ᯓ★ genre: comedy, fluff, smut
ᯓ★ rating: explicit MDNI!!!
ᯓ★ chapter warnings: written in diary style. reader is an idiot but i still love her. she's quitting smoking, please support. set in 90s, ambiguous beach town setting but author uses britishisms, do with that what you will. reader and minghao judge each others taste in music and are not always nice to each other. frogs (ceramic etc).
ᯓ★ chapter wc: 4.6k, total TBD
ᯓ★ a/n: hello loves, only breaking my silence because it's the deadline for this fic (uhoh) and i needed to post SOMETHING. good news: i survived shingles. bad news: i got shingles– do not recommend. please expect slow updates as i have other things to update first.
ᯓ★ thank yous: to @haologram my beloved. thank u for your 90s dance music recs! (playlist to be added to masterlist)
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
20 June 1998
Cigarettes smoked: 0
Times wanted cigarette: 21
Cups of coffee: 4
Alcohol units: 3.5
Words written: 2043
Times considered breaking a window: 892310
9.26 p.m. A very disappointing day, all in all. You would have bought cigarettes by now (if you had any inclination of going outside again) and ruined your four day streak, so it’s just as well you cannot be arsed.
Disappointing Things of the Day
Overpriced coffee on the train. Also very bitter
Raining (all day)
Damon Albarn and Justine Frischmann broke up (ages ago but only JUST found out when reading old Heat magazine someone left on the train)
Same Heat magazine said suede boots are “OUT” and you spent £460 on yours two months ago. You were wearing them as you read it.
Ice cream shop on beach closed
Cottage owner didn’t answer the phone again. Have spent small fortune in various payphones wasted on his answerphone machine
Still really fucking want a fucking cigarette
The cottage– just in general
Comparison is the thief of joy, so the saying goes, but when you arrived at the cottage at a little after four p.m, you had the clipping of the advert from the brochure in your handbag, and you were fairly sure you’d been lite-scammed. Sure, it’s on the seafront, and sure, it’s got both the garden and the office with the view– but gone are the blue window boxes filled with flowers, the rose and jasmine covered facade, and the quaint bistro garden set you’d hoped to write from with a glass of wine in the evenings. Instead you were faced with a sad remnant of what you suppose it used to be, a singular white plastic lawn chair, and a distinct lack of flowers.
You reminded yourself that you’d been lucky to get anywhere at the last minute, as you stood at the end of the narrow gravel path, suitcase handle biting into your palm, the late afternoon sun in your eyes. The cottage– your cottage, for the next three months– will simply have to do.
The photos of the cottage had been lovely. There was a whimsical charm to it. The window frames had been a soft, pale blue in the picture, but the paint is all peeling away now. Maybe it just looked worse because of the rain, but you can’t help but feel hard done by.
Four books in, you’d thought you’d have learned better than to romanticise the setting, but every place just exceeded your expectations. First, the little flat in Glasgow– very strange, probably haunted, and the lock stuck so often you started leaving the kitchen window unlatched whenever you left, but it did wonders for your creativity. The lakehouse in Bavaria in September, filled with natural light and surrounded by nature. The chalet in northern Italy over Christmas and New Years, a skiers paradise. All of them were wonderful, in their own (sometimes imperfect) ways.
And now here, in this sleepy beach town in the arse end of nowhere, that took nine hours on three trains and another forty-five minutes via a bus that runs twice a week to get to, you’re really really trying not to feel defeated before you’ve even started. What it’s really about, you try in a pathetic attempt to convince yourself, is the system. The system can work anywhere, right?
The System
Find short term rental
Get part time job
Eat, drink, and shop independent
Get involved in community
Listen to radio/read local paper
Write
You’d dragged the suitcase up the path and the wheels kept catching on uneven stones. You realised, rather quickly, that hidden amongst the overgrown grass and weeds were many decorative frogs, even more of them greeted you at the door. Loads and loads of frogs staring at you with their massive eyes. Ceramic, metal, plastic, stone, some on toadstools, some with umbrellas– one particularly odd one wearing wellington boots that surely wouldn’t fit his wide, webbed feet– just fuckloads of frogs. Some of them weren’t even green. These certainly weren’t in the photographs, but okay, you supposed it’s nice your landlord has a hobby. God, what if he’s some kind of sick frog pervert?
Somewhere nearby, wind chimes made a soft, tinkling sound and you looked around for it, and oh yes– it’s another one, swinging around in the wind on a lilypad. It’s somewhat disconcerting that there’s so many, frankly, and you hoped the cottage was not quite so full of amphibians inside. There was, however, a note taped to the door, its ink bleeding down the paper.
Key under frog.
- Vernon
Oh for fucks sake– which bastard one?! You huffed, rain running down your temple, before you squatted on the floor and began turning them over. A few minutes went by, and then you were in the grass, fairly positive you were being bitten by ants. You were so close to sacking the whole thing off and going to buy some cigarettes before killing yourself in front of all the fucking frogs, but your fantasies were interrupted by someone saying– “Excuse me… hi down there… hello?”
You looked up to find an amused, slightly alarmed man peering over the fence separating your garden and what is, presumably, his. You had your hand clasped around a frog wearing a top-hat and a monocle, and your suede Prada boots had mud all over the heel. He was wearing a purple and turquoise shellsuit with the hood up, headphones looped around his neck, connected to a Discman that only half fit in the pocket of his jacket.
“Is everything alright?” he said. “I heard a concerning amount of swear words.”
“Uhhh,” you replied stiffly, pushing the rain off your forehead with the back of your hand. “Do I look alright?”
There’s a pause where he took in the scene– your suitcase abandoned at the door, your trench coat dipping into the mud, the growing cluster of overturned frogs around you.
“I’d say… committed.” His lips twitched. Wanker. “I’m Jeonghan.”
You offer your name too, before he said, “you must be the author?”
You blinked at him in surprise.
“How do you know that?”
Jeonghan smiled like an angel. “Vernon told someone who told someone who told someone else. I heard it from Minghao at HMV. News travels fast here.”
You suppress an eyeroll. “Of course it does.”
“I’m guessing we'll be neighbours for a week or two?”
“Three months, actually. If I ever get inside.” You let out a bitter laugh.
“Right, yeah,” he said. “Did you try the one with the sombrero?”
Your spine straightened as your eyes darted around, and there you found it, sitting at the base of a sad-looking hydrangea bush. “That one?” you ask, pointing toward it.
He nodded. You walked over and pushed the bloody thing over with your toe to find the key gleaming at you from the floor. You plucked it from the mud and held it up for Jeonghan to see.
“There we are,” he said happily, as if the whole thing had been the making of a charming anecdote rather than an early warning sign.
“Thank you. Seriously. I was five minutes away from throwing a frog through the window.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Do you know the owner?” you called over your shoulder as you made for the door. “Vernon?”
“Oh he’s not the owner. He’s just running the place,” said Jeonghan airily. There’s a long pause while you jiggle the key in the lock. “Between you and I he’s a little new to this.”
“You don’t say,” you grumbled under your breath before finally the lock clicked, and you let out a heavy sigh.
“Well, I’ll see you around. Feel free to knock if you need anything.”
“Yeah, you too,” you said quickly, dragging your suitcase over the threshold, even though you have nothing of note he could use. That is, unless he has a sudden, dire need for nicotine patches or peach schnapps. The door closed with a thump, and you were alone again at last. You turned to see what horrors awaited you, wet clothes sticking unpleasantly to your skin. Outside, it stopped raining.
21 June 1998
Cigarettes smoked: 0
Times wanted cigarette: 13 (better)
Cups of coffee: 7 (shaking)
Alcohol units: 10.5
Words written: 401 (mostly shit)
Local people met: alarming amount
Local people who somehow already know who you are: as before
Times called into Wave FM: 1
Times considered throwing radio into ocean: 4
8.58 a.m. Horrid start to the day. A seagull decided your bedroom window was the perfect place for serenading his lovely seagull wife, at five fucking a.m. and that clearly set the tone for the rest of the morning. The seagulls here are not your regular seagulls. No… these are enormous prehistoric bastards that screech like how (one could imagine) medieval children would upon seeing a Tamagotchi for the first time.
The inside of your temporary home is, thankfully, frogless, and impeccably clean. It could do with updating, as the decor clearly hadn’t been touched since the seventies, but it’s nothing to complain about. You figured this would help get you in the mood for writing. You could see your main characters, Michael and Carrie, so clearly. Perhaps they’d have a little home like this somewhere in their future, too.
Turned on the radio and quickly figured out that the only station you get a decent signal from is Wave FM, and this morning’s segment was clearly set aside for some kind of goofy, call-in improv show. You clicked it off.
Anyway, you’d tried to save your sour mood by making a cup of coffee and sitting at the desk in the office, overlooking the gorgeous view of the open ocean, but could you write? Not even a sentence! Pathetic. You are a bad writer. A cretin. An uncreative sham.
At a little before nine, you decided to call your agent, Jihoon, who would surely have nothing but praise and admiration to shower upon you in your time of emotional distress.
“It’s the crack of dawn,” he said, when he picked up on your second try.
“It’s eight-thirty se–” you managed to get out before Jihoon hung up.
11.46 a.m. Jihoon picked up again on the fifth try at nine-fifty two and promptly told you to pull your head out of your arsehole and get a grip, because it hasn’t even been one full day.
“I don’t want to hear from you for at least two weeks,” he said blithely. You heard the loud clack of his keyboard in the background. “You’re insufferable until you get some words on a page.”
“But Jihoon–”
“Leave. Me. Alone.”
Jihoon is often like this, and you suspect he’s taking on too much work again. He is the best literary agent you’ve ever known. Everyone wants him and his off-putting personality. He’s who got you your five-book deal with Penguin. He’s the one who negotiated your six-figure advance. He’s the one who’s in castings this week with the BBC– finding the perfect Harry for the adaptation of your second novel, Giving Up Ghosts.
“What if–”
“What if nothing!” he snapped. “Leave me out of it until you’re four chapters in. Go fuck someone and cry about your dwindling talent to them instead of harping on at me.”
“You’re a sack of shit, Jihoon. You’re an emotionless spoon. Did you know th– Jihoon? Jihoon? Fuck!”
He’d hung up again.
This is how you found yourself in a cafe on the seafront, sipping at your fourth cup of coffee of the day. It was fairly busy for a Monday morning, though most people were popping in for a to-go drink– only you and a few elderly women occupying the tables. The hustle and bustle of it was nice enough, though the radio was somewhat distracting. Instead of what you’d hoped would be relaxing music played low over the speakers, you’ve instead got a constant too-loud slew of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Alice in Chains. Your ex boyfriend would consider this heaven. You, however, hope for background music more conducive to writing your 1970’s summer romance this evening.
You made scribbles in your notebook while you watched a little sailboat bobbing around in the waves in the distance. Summer, 1974. Michael (extroverted, bright, exciting, selfish, emotional coward) the up and coming actor, and Carrie (kind, brave, impatient, brash, judgemental) who runs the family-owned record store.
That’s as far as you got by the time you heard your name being called from beside the counter. You twisted your neck to be greeted by Jeonghan, and a man whose eyes were slightly bugging out of his head.
“Oh my God, it’s her,” the bug eyed man said.
“Hel-lo neighbour!” said a gleeful Jeonghan, as he pulled up a chair. The other one hovered behind and waited until you raised your eyebrows expectantly at the chair in front of him. In for a penny and all that. “You didn’t tell me you were famous.”
Are you famous? Sure, Giving Up Ghosts was by all accounts a bestseller, but that doesn’t exactly make you a household name as of yet. Certainly not with the typical male demographic.
“Oh, I’m not fam–” you started, before you were interrupted by a disbelieving laugh.
“You so are!” said the other one. He had the aura of a hamster on speed.
“This is Soonyoung,” said Jeonghan, leaning back in his chair.
“I’ve read everything you’ve written!” exclaimed Soonyoung, which you suppose would be more impressive if you had more than four books on the shelves. “Last month we found your short stories from your uni newspaper. Incredible, by the way.”
Good Lord.
“We?”
“My book club!” said Soonyoung, patting his hands on the table like he was playing the bongos really, really fast. The vibration of it sent your latte sloshing over the rim of your mug. “I can’t wait to tell everyone, they’re going to lose their fucking m–”
This is the last thing you need actually. Thankfully Jeonghan, who might not be a wanker after all, seemed to be gifted in the mind-reading department (i.e. your bewildered, frankly terrified expression and an inability to speak) and came to your rescue.
“I think she might want to fly under the radar, Soonyoung,” he said, winking at you conspiratorially. “Why else would she come here, of all places?”
“Right, of course, durr!” said Soonyoung, wiggling his head in a sort of ditsy ‘oh silly me!’ way. And then he leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “But can you tell me one thing? Is it true Colin Firth will be playing Harry?”
Your insides might’ve actually flipped over. Who is this guy who knows where to find your old short stories, and who’s in talks to play the main characters?
Jihoon would tell you under threat of murder not to say a word. Your editor and most favourite person in the world, Jihyo, would waggle her eyebrows and tell you that avoidance creates intrigue.
“I couldn’t possibly say,” you told him with a half smile, and tapped your nose. Soonyoung actually squealed.
Jihoon could suck it.
2.03 p.m. You went to HMV mostly in the name of research, but got somewhat distracted by the tall, hot one with painted nails and long hair in a half-pony, restocking the M through P of the rock section. He looked somewhat grumpy every time someone talked to him, but it kind of made him more attractive. At one point, he caught you looking while you were fake-browsing the Oasis posters (Liam Gallagher sneering at you in black and white) and you thought you saw his lips twitch into an almost smile when he looked back down.
The romantic in you thought moonily about your characters and that maybe this could be how they meet. Michael, in preparation for a role, seeks out Carrie in the record store, and their summer is taken over by kissing and light petting in the storeroom. Mmm.
“Can I help you?” said tall, hot one when you drifted a little closer.
“Mmm,” you said, as eloquently as one can when they’re daydreaming about fictional people fucking.
Tall, hot one stared at you. “Sorry?”
“Oh,” you said, eyes flicking to the name badge pinned to the pocket of his baggy shirt. Minghao. Oh bloody hell, it’s Jeonghan’s… friend? Acquaintance? Colleague? “Sorry. Just– uh… thinking about… uh. Stuff.”
“Riiight,” said Minghao, turning back to his stack of CDs, clearly thinking you were some kind of imbecile.
“I’m writing a book!” you blurted out, and he turned back toward you, looking at you in some kind of bemused way. You cleared your throat. “Sorry. I mean– I’m doing research.”
“You’re the author?” he asked, head tilted. He was very soft spoken, and paired with that mullet ponytail thing he’s got going on, and his rolled shirt sleeves, and his full lips, it was all rather unnervingly attractive.
“Hah, yeah, that’s me!” you said much too cheerily, immediately being slapped in the face with a wave of self-loathing. “Why does everyone already know that?”
Minghao just shrugged. “Everyone knows everyone around here. The book club haven’t stopped talking about you.”
“Yeah, I met Soonyoung earlier.”
“Surprised you got out alive,” he murmured.
You laughed. “That bad?”
“He’s enthusiastic,” Minghao said diplomatically. When you raised an eyebrow, he added, “when he heard you were coming he cornered me in the supermarket to explain your narrative voice.”
“Oh no.”
“He used the phrase raw and sexual character study while I was trying to buy bananas.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Minghao huffed out a laugh through his nose, still focused on slotting CDs into the racks. His hands were nice. Which feels like a deeply strange thing to notice about someone, but there you were. Long fingers. Silver rings. Black nail polish, chipped.
“Is that what you write about?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Sex?”
You drifted away from the section he was organising, pretending to browse the Ls while very aware of his eyes following you. Was this flirting in practice? You haven’t been flirted with in approximately a billion years, unless you count the slimy man from the number 51 bus back home, which no one with any sense would.
“I write about people and their chemistry,” you said pointedly, then tacking on– “sometimes they have sex.”
There was a moment of quiet while he resumed organising the CDs. You briefly wondered if you were imagining a spark.
“What are you looking for?”
“Inspiration, mostly.”
“What kind?”
“Hmm,” you mused, flicking from Led Zeppelin to Leonard Cohen. “Polar opposites that start out hating each other end up falling in love, somehow.”
“Ah,” he said. “Can’t help you there.”
You glanced at him, the flat line of his mouth. “No music in this whole shop for that?”
His hands dropped to his sides. “Not in a way where it’d work out.”
“Ah,” you said, amused. “You’re a sceptic.”
The corner of Minghao’s mouth curled into a smile. “I’m a realist.”
You laughed, and asked if there’s anywhere else in this little town you could find inspiration, a small fire of hope in your chest that he’d say his bedroom or something equally suggestive. No such luck.
“There’s a party next week,” he said, casually. “You should come.”
You grimaced internally. You don’t really do parties, instead preferring to spend your social time with your friends at brunch, or in wine bars with low music and warm lighting, reserving your late nights for yourself and writing until the small hours. Still, there was Minghao, looking at you like he might be a little attracted to you too.
“With you?”
A flicker of amusement played on his face. “Well, it’s at my place,” he explained, before digging in his back pocket and pulling out a mobile telephone. “I’ll text you the address. What’s your number?”
“Oh. I don’t have–” You stopped to open your bag to find your notepad and a pen. “Here,” you said, thrusting them at him. “Write it down.”
7.23 p.m. After meeting Minghao you were accosted by four other townspeople in the bookshop– two of whom belonged to the infamous book club, one who ran the aforementioned bookshop, and another one, who clearly had no idea who you were but wanted to be part of the drama. You only went in to see if they sold your books (they did) but you ended up being dragged into a thirty minute debate about whether publishing is a dying industry, with the new wave of technology taking over the world. (Dear God, you hope not.)
You almost bought cigarettes on your way back home, but instead settled for a to-go coffee with two sugars to take the edge off. You weren’t sure it helped but the buzzing in your veins was quite nice. This is probably what a small percentage of what crack might feel like.
At five-fifteen you emailed Jihoon from your desk.
Should I buy a mobile telephone? Do you have one? Can I have the number? x
Best, your favourite client
He emailed back only a forty minutes later with this:
No you shouldn’t and no you can’t. There is no universe in which you should be able to contact me at all hours of the day.
Lee Jihoon
PS: how many words did you write today?
6000 ish. x
PS: please can I have your number? What if I have an urgent question about the BBC meetings?
Attagirl.
Lee Jihoon
PS: no. Call my assistant.
Prick x
PS: I lied. I only wrote 42 words and they’re all crap.
9.34 p.m. Thoroughly exhausted with day. Peach schnapps is very good and delicious, on a second glass already. The radio, however, is shit. No CDs in the house at all– you must buy some from Minghao and at same time arrange rendezvous in which you are fucked in the storage cupboard.
Okay. Okay! Must write now.
11.31 p.m. Have written next to nothing. Schnapps almost gone. Very sad. Radio is blasting unce unce unce and lyrics have nothing of substance. ‘Exploration of space!’ repeatedly announced over a distracting beat and it makes no sense, even metaphorically. The DJ of the late night show called himself The 8, and said really pretentious shit like “that really spoke to me, man.”
How does ‘Shouting lager, lager, lager, lager. Mega, mega white thing. Mega, mega white thing’ speak to anyone, exactly?
You tried switching it off, but being completely alone with your (negative) thoughts ended up being worse than actually listening to a hundred variations of the same song, so at some point, when The 8 was taking song requests, you carried the radio downstairs, and called in from the telephone attached to the kitchen wall.
The conversation did not go well.
“Caller number four, you’re on air on Wave FM,” came the host's voice, echoing with a slight delay on your radio, abandoned on the stairs. “What’s your name and what song would you like tonight?”
“Ca–” you started, interrupted by a loud hiccup. “Can you play Dreams by Fleetwood Mac?”
“Ah–” he said, the sound of tinkling laughter from the team in the background. “It’s not that kind of show. Can I tempt you with something from this decade?”
There was a teasing lilt to his tone that you did not, after four glasses of schnapps, appreciate.
“Y–” Hiccup. “Certainly cannot. What’s wrong with Fleetwood Mac?”
There was a long pause. “Nothing,” said The 8. “It’s just not exactly dance hour material.”
“Well maybe dance hour shouldn’t last four consecutive hours,” you snapped, leaning against the kitchen counter with the phone cord stretched taut across your stomach. “Have you considered that?”
A laugh crackled somewhere in the background.
“Wow,” said The 8. “Coming in hostile.”
“I’m just saying, this town deserves more variety.”
“What, because you don’t like it?”
“Because the average age of the population here is at least fifty-three,” you informed him. “Who exactly is this for?”
“The people craving fun, people with taste, people who want to da–”
“At eleven-thirty on a weekday?” you interrupted. “People want to relax with a glass of wine or two while they read or… or sew, or paint, or–”
“Have you thought about just going to bed? You sound like my grandmother.”
“Y–” You scoffed and hiccuped at the same time. “You sound incredibly judgemental.”
“Yep.”
You knocked back the last dregs of your drink and blurted– “I’m just saying perhaps four straight hours of men aggressively shouting over what sounds like a microwave exploding is excessive.”
More laughter in the background.
The 8 sighed dramatically into the microphone. “Why are you even listening if you hate the whole genre?”
“I like background music and this is the only station that gets a signal here.”
“So put on a CD, what’s the issue?”
You pause for a moment. “I don’t have any.”
“Well,” said The 8, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Might I recommend a shop in town, you’ll know it as HMV.”
Heat climbed up your neck as you were unable to find a witty response in your alcohol-fogged head. Three seconds went by, then four, then five– then The 8 cheerfully said– “Thanks for the chat, caller number four. Make sure to drink a lot of water before you go to sleep, it’ll help with that hangover in the morning.”
When the line went dead, you heard a round of laughter from the radio. The 8 took another caller, Mingyu, who asked for The Prodigy’s Firestarter, for which The 8 gleefully obliged. For the next thirty minutes, he played songs with aggressive male vocalists and wondered aloud if you were filing a complaint yet.
What a twat.
22 June 1998
Cigarettes smoked: 0
Times wanted cigarette: 103
Cups of coffee: 8 (have developed addiction, maybe?)
Alcohol units: -4 (estimate, based on amount of vomit)
Words written: 19
Local people met: 0 (thank God)
Minutes spent listening to radio in search of good hosts: 173
Good hosts found: 1, but it was her last day. Very disappointed but pleased she has clearly got a better job.
07.04 a.m. Ugh.
08.17 a.m. UGHHHHHHH.
12.01 p.m. Head has not stopped pounding. This is why they say not to drink on an empty stomach.
01.29 p.m. After another thirty minutes of trying to write with grunge music playing in the background, you briefly considered going to buy out all of HMV, but one look in the bathroom mirror put a stop to that plan. You cannot see anyone while you look like that. Instead, you slunk back to your desk, tuned the radio to static, and wrote half a sentence before promptly deleting it.
10.25 p.m. You tried every other station again tonight out of spite, but after a few seconds they all dissolved into static, religious broadcasts, or what sounded alarmingly like maritime emergency frequencies. Wave FM remains the only station that comes through clearly in the cottage. You expect this is Vernon’s fault somehow, and resolve to write it in a feedback letter at the end of your stay.
Tonight’s theme for The 8’s show appears to be Men Having An Emotionally Difficult Time In Warehouses.
You tried writing through it. Honestly. You sat at your desk with a cup of decaffeinated tea (in effort to stop the terrifying slide into addiction) and your notebook open to a fresh page while somebody sang poorly and incomprehensibly over what you suspect to be the baseline from the Holby City intro. Every now and then The 8 would come back on air to say something like “what a vibe.”
In the end, you wrote two sentences and only deleted one. A success story, if there ever was one. Tomorrow you will wake up well-rested, transform into a sex goddess, and go into town to buy one mobile telephone and ten CDs, at least. Hopefully, you’ll also get Minghao’s phone number.
summary: A small coffee shop owner is the only thing stopping a crime boss who wants to expand his empire when she refuses to sell her shop to him, no matter what tactics of intimidation he might use. When he has finally had enough, he hires a hitman to finish her off. But Joshua Hong doesn’t work that way. He has principles, even for a hitman.
pairing: hitman!joshua hong x coffee shop owner!reader
word count: 9.5k
warnings: deals with heavyyyy topics, explicit mentions of murder, blood, serious bodily harm, exploitation and blackmailing, both joshua and reader are questionable and immoral characters, warped concept of love and commitment, stalking, nsfw, smut, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, corruption kink, fingering, multiple orgasms.
a/n: this was written for Carats Ridge: A Small Town Collab, hosted by @imnotshua , @100vern and @starlightkyeom, so make sure to check out the rest of the works as they are posted! This is my first collab and very fun to be part of. Thank you for the opportunity!
4am - the backdoor of the café is unlocked. You step inside.
4:30am - the kitchen is abuzz with the noise of the mixer, or the stove, or the ding of the oven. He can’t smell the aroma of freshly baked goods from where he watches through the back window. He is a bit too far. But he can see the way you slowly get disheveled, sweat building up in your hairline, face slightly flushed from the heat of the oven, leaving colored blotches on your skin. Cute. You look cute like this.
Your apron gets stained more and more as time goes on, with flour, cocoa powder, even cookie batter and sometimes that melted chocolate you use very carefully so as to not spill it. It’s the really high end stuff, he knows this. He has looked into it. You labor on for a long, long while, accompanied by the sounds of soft music. He watches silently.
7:00am - you finally started bringing the desserts to the front, carefully placing them in the glass display counters. You arrange them all slowly. You’re a little type A like that, he has noticed, always making sure everything is equidistant and neat in rows, not a single crumb scattered anywhere else. You turn on the little golden lights that shine on the display of sweets, and he has to admit, everything looks delectable. Maybe not as much as you. You’re just….. delicious.
It is around this time that Boo Seungkwan clocks in, the little bell outside the shop chiming pleasantly as he greets you loud and cheerful. Seungkwan is quite the character, his observations tell him. Apple-shaped and perked face, high cheekbones, voice a little too loud compared to how soft yours is. But Seungkwan is so kind, and so entertaining, the only other employee in your tiny shop, making you laugh throughout the day. He appreciates that. Your laugh is bright and a little high pitched. It suits you.
7:15am (give or take) - Seungkwan starts getting ready for the day as you set the last of your baked goods out. He heats up the espresso machines, dials the espresso shots in them, refills the hoppers and gets the batch brews started. You go and clean yourself up, hanging up the apron, washing your hands and face, and actually taking care of yourself with the tiny travel sized skincare and makeup products you bring along. You show up early in the morning looking like you rolled straight out of bed. He doesn’t mind. There’s something….. pure about you when you’re like that. Untainted. Especially by someone like him. And it makes sense logically too. No point in getting ready only to slave in the kitchen for hours on end. Now, you make yourself presentable, rolling a little pink stick on your cheek and smudging it to give your face more color. He wishes you were still hot from the blast of the oven, making you flush naturally. You look sensual like that, and it gives Joshua thoughts he would indulge only in the very dark of the night. But this works too. You come back out front as Seungkwan gets ready to open.
8:00 am - you open your modest little coffee shop on the corner of 12th avenue. It’s shocking that you occupy a corner of a busy street just a few blocks from the town’s business sector. It’s almost impossible to set up a business here because of how competitive the location is. He has looked at the blueprints of the surrounding area, since he wants to be thorough at his job. He might be enjoying his time with you, but he’s still a professional. He won’t go through with it if he knows it’s not foolproof. He doesn’t want law enforcement ears perking up, after all.
They won’t. He’s too good. He knows that.
Your acquisition of the place is made even more questionable by the fact that you’re so young. But it is what it is, and the fantastic location means that you have a crazy morning rush. You man the register, Seungkwan makes the coffees, helped by you whenever he needs it. It’s a few hours of lively, non-stop work, and slowly, the baked goods in the display cases get more and more scarce.
You’re a cheerful little thing. You greet customers sweetly, flash them a bright smile and ask them how their day is going. It’s maybe a bit too much for his taste, but maybe that’s why he likes it. You’re just slightly too cheesy, slightly too decadent. You’re something he has never been. And he likes that. He likes things that excite him. You excite him.
He wonders what it would be like to see you up close. Just for a little bit, to feel that sunshine. He has no need for it in his life, but he’s a curious person. And he finds himself imagining being close to you more and more.
11:00am - this is usually around the time you take a breather and go through your available treats. Things cool down a little, and you slip back into the kitchen to start prepping the doughs you were resting, the cookie batter you had chilled in the fridge, the materials already prepped for more baking, because the next rush would come near late afternoon, and you had to be ready. He doesn’t understand why you just won’t make more of it in the morning so you didn’t have to do two batches, but he doesn’t claim to know how to do your job, just like you would never know the complexities of his.
His area of expertise is….. a lot less conventional. Your day is filled with sugar and flour, the scent of cinnamon, the whir of a mixer and coffee beans ground carefully to brew warm cups. His day is spent covered in shadows, a million different clothes and disguises, a well hidden gun and a knife strapped to his leg, stalking prey, and the eventual sight and smell of blood when his job is finally complete.
You’re worlds apart. That’s why he wants a piece of you so bad.
02:00pm - this is usually around the time he shows up at the shop. The place is not overly crowded, maybe only a rare man or woman in a stuffy business suit sitting at a table at the corner with a laptop in front of them, clicking away at the keys. You’re usually in the back, and Seungkwan is lingering behind the counter. He always flashes him a bright smile.
“Hi, Josh.” He chirps. “The usual?”
And Joshua nods, settling on a stool by the counter instead of at one of the tables. He watches Seungkwan pour him coffee. Nothing fancy, black, with sugar. Something that is hot enough and bitter enough to sting his throat. Joshua drinks it in silence, usually on his phone. But his ears are alert as always, and he can hear you puttering around in the back. Sometimes, you’re humming something as you work. And he’s trained enough to catch it, even if he doesn’t recognise most of it. He doesn’t stay long. He’s been here enough times to know how everything is laid out, has watched you enough to map your movements.
Sometimes, you come to the front when he’s there, and you always greet him politely. That very soft and inviting part of you, and it’s hard for Joshua to imagine that someone like you, who giggles and puts stickers on the apples of Seungkwan’s cheeks, is also resisting and fighting back against the biggest, richest, most intimidating crime boss the town of Carat’s Ridge has seen in years. You don’t look like you have it in you, but your resilience is truly astounding.
Something twinges in his stomach when he thinks of the contrast that exists in you.
The three buildings in this business sector are all owned by the same man. Their basements are connected, according to the blueprints Joshua has seen, and this man, Joshua’s employer, a scary and shady business owner, needs this passageway for a lot of questionable trades he conducts. The only problem is you, and your little shop that you refuse to sell. The only hurdle in his way preventing him from having a clear transit route for his illegal trade. And Joshua knows for a fact that this man has no reservations in discarding any inconveniences that come his way. Everyone knows this. The town isn’t very big, so it’s more of an open secret than anything else. No one messes with him, everyone always gives in, except you.
Joshua doesn’t understand it. And as he watches you giggle with Seungkwan and hum over warm cupcakes, the mystery behind you is enough to make his toes curl. He likes it.
This is the closest he has ever gotten to your person. He has been watching for a while now. He has gone through your closet, your drawers, your cupboards. He knows what you write in your journal, the safe you keep in your office for all important documents (it took him less than five minutes to crack it), and how you personally prefer tea when you’re not at the shop. He feels like he knows you already, but the thrill that goes through him when he’s within feet of you, when your eyes meet his and when you smile at him, that thrill is unmatched. Joshua’s fingers itch to touch you, like he’s hungry for it. And maybe he is. You’re like prey, and he wants to get his hands on you already.
5:00pm - you close up. You always shoo Seungkwan off first, telling him it’s fine and you have some work to do. You lock the shop from the inside, flip the sign, and Joshua walks to the back of the building again, to his perch that will give him the best view through the back window into your office. It’s the one place in the shop that's not squeaky clean. The desk is layered in papers, some scattered on the floor as well, and every day, you go through many new letters that Joshua knows his employer is sending to you, offer after offer to buy you out, the pressure mounting with every passing day. At this point, Joshua thinks the man knows you won’t sell to him, and that’s why he hired Joshua to do things the unconventional way. But the letters keep coming, and until Joshua finally wraps up his reconnaissance, tells his employer that he will take care of it, and carefully strangles you in your office, they will keep coming. Enough to keep you on edge, enough to scare you a little bit.
Speaking of, Joshua should probably get back to his boss. He’s getting impatient about Joshua’s dilly dallying, which isn’t his style either, frankly. Joshua doesn’t like toying with his targets. But he has this crazy urge to toy with you, and he doesn’t really want to let go of that just yet. Of course, this back and forth exists in his head only. You are blissfully unaware. But it doesn’t matter. You will know soon enough.
05:55pm - It is nearing the time that you leave for home. But today is the day Joshua thinks he should wrap all of this up. There’s not a whole lot more he can find out by just watching. It’s time to make up his mind and either end your life and go get his payment, or let you go and tell his employer to hire someone else.
Or a secret third option that isn’t even fully formed in his own head. He’s still wondering about what exactly he wants to do with you, but that little thrill in the base of his stomach tells him that he already understands.
It’s way too easy to get past the locked back door, and before he knows it, he is standing in the doorway of your open office. You’re poring over what looks like expense sheets, your lips slowly moving as you do the numbers in your head. You don’t notice him, which isn’t surprising. Joshua has worked in this profession for long enough to know how to essentially mute his presence. He watches for a few silent moments before finally speaking.
“How long can you hold out before the big bad man takes your business from you, princess?”
You scream, jerking so violently that your knee hits the desk hard, buckling immediately afterwards. Joshua watches on, amused, as you struggle between processing the pain and turning your body around to face him. You lean heavily on the desk, injured leg stretched and tense. He can bet that was painful. He winces and gives you a pout.
“Relax, sweetheart. You’d think I just shot you.”
A little hitman humor. Not that you would know.
You blink rapidly at him, chest heaving as you try to catch your bearings. Your eyes flicker. You recognise him. Good. That makes Joshua feel….. good. His stomach does an excited little flip.
“H-how did you get inside?” Your voice is shaky, uncertain, and still a little breathless. Joshua just smiles, that dazzling bright one he knows will catch you off guard. And it does.
“Back door was unlocked.” He lies. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Joshua pushes off the doorframe and walks in, eyes darting over the mess of paper he is seeing up close for the second or third time. He’s already gone through all your things, unbeknownst to you. You shift, and he can see you wince.
“I’m really sorry. We’re closed.” You say politely.
“I know.”
“And…. you shouldn’t be back here.”
“I know.”
You are wide eyed, just blinking up at him. He wants to reach out and pinch your cheek. He’s so close to you already, and it’s making his stomach stir with something rolling and hot. You’re struggling on what to say next. So Joshua decides to help you out and carry the conversation himself.
“You know, you can just sell.” He hums. “It’s a pretty small coffee shop. In a smallish town. You could move away.”
Your jaw drops, frown still etched on your face. He wants to smooth out the little lines between your brows.
“How do you know about that?”
He hums, as if thinking. “Well, when you don’t sell to crime bosses, they often hire people like me to clean up their path for them.”
Your mouth opens and closes a few times, not unlike a fish. Cute. God, Joshua is thoroughly enjoying himself. It’s so different from his usual M.O. He prefers cleaner jobs. A single headshot with a small gun, silencer on, in and out with no trace. But you’re not easy to resist. He wants to have fun.
He wonders what kind of face you make when you cum.
“I don’t understand.”
Of course you don’t. Poor, sweet you. He wonders about that thing an elderly lady always says to young kids, about how they are so cute that she could just eat them up.
He closes the distance and stands right in front of you, mere inches away, trapping you between himself and the desk. You look up at him.
“I kill you. The shop goes to the bank. He buys it. He uses it to run his illegal business.” Four smooth sentences. Everything laid out for you. It’s not like telling you would make a difference. Tonight is the night he wraps up this job. He’s just not entirely sure how much he wants to drag it out first.
You still watch him with your mouth slightly ajar, processing his blunt words. He gives you a good ten seconds. He sees your throat bob. A hard swallow.
“My grandmother left me this place.” You mumble. He hums. He already knows this. “I can’t just sell it. I can’t let it go.”
He sighs, a little dramatically because he likes seeing the way you react to him. “I just told you the alternative to not selling.”
You blink. “Will you really kill me?”
Joshua wants to coo. He pouts, half mocking and half serious, before nodding. Fear fills your features. Oh, he can’t have that now. He has liked all your other expressions so far. Fear isn’t doing it for him. Time to change that.
He leans down to place one hand on the edge of the desk, right next to your hip. You curve back as he invades your space, your face morphing a little into surprise. That’s better. Could be even better. He will get there.
“So you’re telling me,” he says, “this shop is worth the price of your life?”
He sees you gulp again, can practically hear it. His other hand grips the table too, caging you between him. He can feel the slight tremble of your body. You’re still afraid. Joshua isn’t exactly a fan of that. He tilts his head, brushes his lips right over the pulse point on your neck. Your breath catches. He smirks against your skin.
“Fear is a powerful aphrodisiac.” He whispers.
“W-what are you doing?” You manage to squeak out. Breathy. Shaky. He presses his lips to your neck for the first time. Your pulse is bounding, rapid.
“Trying to have sex with you.”
Your body stiffens even more than it already is. “W-what?”
Joshua tuts and pulls away, frowning down at you. “I am about to kill you. I can either do it now, or I can do it after giving you the most mind numbing orgasm you’ve ever had. Your call, princess.”
You look at him like he has grown two heads. A few seconds tick by. Joshua lets out a painful sigh when you don’t react, frozen still. He reaches behind his back, tugging out the gun he tucked under his belt. Your eyes widen, watching as he places it on your desk. Material proof.
“You’ve got a fighter in you.” He hums. “Resisting so many threatening letters. Not selling to someone who the entire town is scared of. That takes balls, sweetheart. And you have them. You’re feisty. But you’re so….. sweet.”
He runs a single finger down your cheek. He feels you shiver. He smirks, and he knows you can feel the heat in his eyes.
“I’ve always had a curiosity for paradoxical things like you.”
When he lowers his head to your neck again, you don’t go as stiff as you did before. You don’t respond, but you don’t push him away. He nips at the skin, playfully, softly. He will get rough with you, something tells him you will like that, but not yet. He licks a stripe all the way to the bottom of your ear. Your breath stutters again. He focuses on sucking a hickey in that spot. He shouldn’t leave marks, but god, you would look nice all bruised up by him.
You make the slightest sound, a breathy exhale, that Joshua wouldn’t hear if he wasn’t so close already. He places his hand carefully over the curve of your hip, taking a final step closer so that his body brushes against yours. He pulls his lips back, eyeing the sizeable hickey he just sucked into your skin. All smooth, except for his mark. He feels his cock twitch, swell. Somehow, stalking you beforehand has made this experience ten times more thrilling than it would usually be.
“So?” He hums, brushing his nose over your cheek. He watches your eyes, bright as anything. You look uncertain, hesitant. He sighs a little.
“You can say no.” He mumbles. “I’m not a complete monster.”
You shake your head just slightly. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
Again, hesitation. Joshua waits. Neither of them is going anywhere.
“I’m a….. I haven’t done this before.”
He blinks. Once. Twice. He feels a twinge of amusement. “You’re a virgin.”
“Yes.”
God. That’s hot. In his sick, twisted head, that’s hot. There’s no way he’s letting you die without knowing what taking dick feels like. He lays a soft kiss on your cheek, another on your jaw. Then he mumbles against it.
“Do you still want to do this?”
When you nod, he almost moans. Screwing the man sent to kill you… maybe some part of you is as fucked up as him.
He hooks his hands under your thighs so he can lift you up on the edge of the desk. You’re still a little stiff, not as fluid as he would like, but no matter. He knows what buttons to push. That breathy exhale was just a teaser. He wants to hear you scream. And not in the way you will later in the night, just before he puts a bullet in your head.
He brushes his hand over your knee, the one that hit the table when he came in. Your skin is heated, and it feels even warmer as he slides up, under the hem of your dress. You always wear the cutest summer dresses. Joshua did wonder what it would be like to fuck you in them. Today, you’re wearing that periwinkle one that looks gorgeous against your skin. Perfect.
His hand slides up, just as his lips finish their trail and end at your mouth. He hovers, a hairbreadth away, and waits, wanting to see if you will make a move. Your lips part, like you’re expecting it, but when he doesn’t go on, you push forward, closing the gap so you can kiss him properly. Joshua tries to smother his smirk as he kisses you back, really sinking into you.
Your mouth moves well, smooth, purposeful. You’ve definitely done this before. He groans in approval, tilting his head so he can deepen the kiss. Your tongue is hot, slick, fluid. He knows he is rock hard. You’re making him a little dizzy too.
He finds the hem of your panties, toys with them a little. They’re simple, cotton. Nothing fancy. But god, that’s so sexy. He hooks a finger in with them and tugs them off from under your dress, lifting your hips to do it. He can feel the crotch, how damp it is, and he pockets them immediately.
You’re burning hot between your legs, a heat he has been craving. He uses his left hand to tug at your knee, spreading your legs a bit more so he can run the fingers of his right hand over your slit. He prods between your lips, finding your clit easily enough. You jerk, and he has to grip your hip tight to keep you from moving.
He pulls away to look at you. Your lips are swollen, wet with his spit. Your eyelids, now at half mast, peer up at him, blinking rapidly. Your chest heaves with big breaths. The slightest hint of sweat is building up in your hairline.
What a vision.
Joshua keeps his eyes carefully on your face so he can see your expression when he starts rubbing little circles on your clit, feeling it swell under his ministrations. Your jaw goes slack, your eyes barely open and unfocused. You’re staring at his lips. He unconsciously licks over them.
Your first moan is short and muted, broken at the end. You’re gripping the edge of the desk tightly, so tight that your fingertips have paled. Joshua watches closely, every shift in your face, as he keeps rubbing over you. You moan again, a little louder, a little surer.
“There you go.” He whispers.
When he can’t stand it anymore, he kisses you again. You whimper into his mouth, and god, if he was more of a loser, he would’ve come in his pants by now. But instead he kisses you fiercely, keeping his thumb on your clit and pushing two fingers into you with no preamble. He feels you stiffen, but his thumb is still working, and you’re so wet already, the slide in is smooth. He curls his fingers as he keeps going, tongue running languidly against yours. Your body jerks and you whine into his mouth, so he focus on rubbing the pads of his fingers on that spot, thumb still rubbing back and forth over your clit. You’re close, he can tell by the way your breaths pick up, your whimpers get more frequent, your knees nudging into his hips, trying to close but unable to. He almost has you. Almost.
He pulls back from your lips just as he feels that you’re cumming. Because he wants to see your face, how it twists and moves as you writhe in his arms. His grip on your hip tightens, holding you in place as you jerk and tremble. His fingers keep going, not even slowing, wanting to drag this out as much as he possibly can because you look divine.
He only stops when your hand grips his forearm hard, eyes teary as you look up at him, pleading. Oh, he likes this. He wonders if he can make you beg. But it feels cruel to do that for your first and last time having sex.
His cock is so hard it’s almost painful. He’s a patient man, but it’s unraveling fast. He pulls his fingers out, coated with your release, and lifts them to his mouth, popping them in, not breaking eye contact even once. You watch, almost in awe, as he sucks on them, tasting you. You taste good too. God almighty, why does he have to kill you?
He makes quick work of undoing his pants, just enough to pull his cock out. You almost yelp when he plunges two fingers inside you again, stiffening as he rubs over your gummy walls for a few seconds before pulling out, using your wetness to jerk his cock a few times. You’re looking down at it like it’s otherworldly, and Joshua almost snorts in amusement.
“Ready, princess?” He breathes out. You look back up at him, lust coating your eyes, and nod. He can see it on your face. You want this. Your orgasm has lowered your inhibitions significantly. He can’t wait to see you fall apart again.
When he slides in, it almost sends him into orbit.
You’re hot. Wet and pulsating around his shaft as he slowly but surely carves his way inside. He opened you up enough beforehand to make the slide much easier, but it’s still suffocatingly tight. He watches your mouth drop, your eyes roll, and when you lean your head back, he spots the hickey he gave you. His head spins. You’re squeezing around him so good. He lurches forward, nipping at your neck again, unable to help himself.
When he starts moving, it’s slow at first. Half because of you, because you need to adjust, and half because he thinks he will cum embarrassingly quick if he starts fast right out of the gate. So he takes his time, really reveling in the feeling of you wrapped around him. You’re moaning so cutely in his ear, spurring him on, and eventually, he lets himself speed up. He wants to feel more of you, to fuck you properly, because god, a pussy like this deserves it, and he says as much.
“You’ve got the perfect little pussy baby, fuck.” He can hear the crack in his own voice. The table groans under you. You gasp when he hits your sweet spot, and Joshua doubles down on it. He grips your hips hard, fingers digging into the soft flesh, focusing on really ramming into you now. He can hear the squelch, the filthy sound of wet skin slapping against skin, and his depravity only swells more as it hits his ears. You smell like something fruity, mixed with sweat and the smell of sex. His head is spinning, and he wants you to cum again so bad, to squeeze the soul directly out of his cock.
He kisses you with bruising force and you nearly sob into his mouth. He feels your fingers in his hair, tugging harshly in a way that sends tingles through his scalp. He hates it when women grab his hair during sex, messing it up, but it feels so good watching you lose control like this, so he lets you. Your feet have locked behind his lower back, your thighs digging into his sides, using him to ground yourself. You break the kiss to moan again, your free hand behind you, flat against the desk so you can lean back and take deep gulping breaths of air. Your head turns up to the ceiling again. Joshua can’t help but lick at your neck, sinking his teeth into it enough to try and channel some of the ferality that’s driving him crazy right now. His cock is pulsing, throbbing, slick with your juices as it pounds into you. And you let him, squeezing deliciously around his cock.
“Taking me so well.” He can’t help it, praises spill from his lips like they are meant for you. You whimper at his words. He’s drawing closer to the edge, but he’ll be damned if he gets there before you do. So his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing tight circles on it until he feels you lock tight around him, body shuddering as you come. He keeps going, addicted to the way your walls spasm around him, suffocating his cock until he can’t take it anymore. You pretty much squeeze the orgasm out of him, his whole being trembling as he rides it out. He thinks he blacks out for a second there, it hits him so hard.
He lays his head on your shoulder, catching his breath. He can feel you still shaking a little in his hold. Your arms are wrapped loosely around his shoulders, slumping into him as you come down from his high. The smell of your perfume hits him again. Fruity and delicious.
God. God. He’s so fucked.
…………………………….
Ground coffee smells sharper and stronger than whole beans. Something to do with the oils in coffee beans. They are volatile, and when they break, the aroma is immediate and very all-encompassing. It’s a stinging scent, but you enjoy it immensely. Sometimes, if baking doesn’t take up most of your mornings, you like to be the one who grinds the beans. Seungkwan always tuts and tries to take over, saying you have other stuff to do. Sometimes you let him, and sometimes you don’t. The smell is too nice. It relaxes you, so you want to do it yourself.
It’s not relaxing you now. Not at all.
Seungkwan is a little worried about how spacey you have been all morning. He’s loud and intense, but he’s also very perceptive. So it takes him only about an hour before he notices. You’re not surprised. You haven’t exactly been….. acting normal.
For one, you’re way off the mark with your timings. You burn a batch of cupcakes because you take them out of the oven too late. Then you mess up when folding the flour into your cake mixture, and it ends up clumping so badly that it is pretty much unusable. Who the hell messes up flour mixing?
“Maybe you should take the day off?” Seungkwan suggests delicately as he scraps the whole thing into a bin. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, but you are mentally not there with him, and that can be dangerous in a kitchen. You know this.
“I’m really fine.” Your voice is thin as wire, and not very convincing. Seungkwan gives you a long look, and you can see his eyes flicker to your neck, where you had tried your best to color correct and conceal the giant marks you were left with.
“Then go to the back. Lay down in your office for a bit.”
That’s a bad idea. You don’t think you can step into that place after what happened there. Especially not when…. his gun is still sitting on your desk, untouched. You don’t understand why he didn’t take it. You were too out of it to even think as he cleaned himself up and left pretty suddenly. But why not take his weapon. Why leave it there?
You don’t know what to think. You’re still fucked up by your absolute reckless decision to have sex with a complete stranger, a stranger with a gun, who claimed he was there to kill you…. And then ended up not killing you.
You’re confused. You don’t want to think about it. You need a distraction.
You shoo Seungkwan out of the kitchen and get back to work, trying your best to forget the night before. But your legs are sore, and any twinge in your muscles reminds you of what caused it. You think of his eyes again, the most beautiful, intense brown you have ever seen, more than coffee beans, more than chocolate, but so empty. So hollow.
You wonder if he will come back. He should, right? You have his gun. Well, you don’t have it, technically. It’s just there. You won’t dare touch it.
When the shop opens, the distraction is effective, way more than baking was. You get lost in the flurry of people and orders. It keeps your hands busy, as well as your mind, and before you know it, it’s lunch hour. You sigh, wondering if you should get started on the next batch as Seungkwan wipes the counter. A thought enters your head, and you hesitate before speaking.
“Seungkwan,” you swallow, “there’s this customer we’ve had for a while now. He comes in around this time, just gets a black coffee, I think.”
Seungkwan’s lips purse in thought. “Josh? Yeah, come to think of it, he isn’t here today. He hasn’t missed a single day in the last few weeks.”
You blink. “Right. Do you know what his full name is?”
That makes him pause, and he gives you a curious look. “Um, no.”
You soldier on. “What about card information?”
“He pays in cash.” Now the look is getting more concerned. “Why are you asking?”
You shake your head, trying to look nonchalant as you fiddle with the register. “I just think it would be nice if we knew our regulars a bit more.”
It’s a bullshit excuse, but Seungkwan doesn’t push. You’re grateful, because you don’t think you want to address the sick feeling in your chest that settled in you last night and hasn’t left. You want to call it prolonged post nut clarity. But that makes the situation feel even more horrific.
That evening, as you wrap up for the day, Seungkwan lingers around the counters, even after he has grabbed his stuff and is ready to head out. You give him a questioning look, and he looks a little hesitant as he clarifies.
“I was hoping I could walk you home.” He says, looking a little nervous. Your heart squeezes, touched by his gesture. So you just nod, telling him to hold on, and you quickly finish up, locking everything before you head down the street, your employee falling into step with you.
Seungkwan talks to you about random things as you walk through the downtown part of Carats Ridge. It’s still lively despite the late hour. You’ve lived here all your life, born and raised, and you really have no intention to go anywhere else. You like traveling, but you can’t see yourself living in a place that isn’t this. You have too many memories here, too many friends. Sure, most of your family left after you graduated high school, but this is home for you, so you plan to stick by for a long time.
Unless of course, the man who wants to buy your shop has you killed. Your jaw clenches at the thought, and your mind drifts to last night again.
You’re glad when you reach home, and thank Seungkwan profusely before he leaves. You watch him disappear down the street before going inside yourself, toeing your shoes off in the entryway and pattering deeper into the house. It’s a modest, one storey building, again, left to you by your grandmother when she passed. You know the life you live is very blessed, and it was a natural progression from your childhood to this.
Your parents both worked in finance, which meant endless money and opportunities, but not time. Never time. So you were left with your grandmother, in the town of Carats Ridge. You had stability because of her, even if your own parents couldn’t offer it. From a young age, you spent the time that you were not in school with your grandmother, inside her little bakery. It was just that back then, a quaint bakery. You grew with her, learned from her, and she made you everything you are today. Polite, but unyielding. You took over when she retired, and converted the bakery into a coffee shop, offering much more than it previously did. You put heart and soul into what you did, but you never forgot your power throughout it. That’s why you never sold to the man who put so many of your neighboring stores out of business, blackmailing and strong-arming them until they caved. But not you. Not yet.
You drop your bag on the couch, trudging to the kitchen to look inside your refrigerator and decide what to have for dinner. Being surrounded by baked goods all day usually means you crave something spicy around this time, so you peruse what you have, wondering what will take you the least amount of time. You’re tired, way more than usual, and you had terrible, fitful sleep the night before. You just want some rest.
The door of the refrigerator shuts gently behind you with a thud, bottle of wine in hand. When you turn around, your eyes catch the kitchen doorway and you scream.
The bottle slips from your hand and shatters on the floor, the red liquid immediately splattering on the marble. You jump in response. The man in your doorway winces, watching color bloom on the white floor. He tuts, straightening a little and walking closer to the mess. He’s dressed more casually than the button down shirt and slacks he usually wears, and was wearing last night. He’s in a simple t-shirt and jeans, and a pair of black rimmed glasses adorn his face. It takes you a few seconds to recognise him because of how different he looks, and your heart is still frantically pounding, trying to calm down after the scare he just gave you.
“You’re shockingly unaware of your surroundings.” He mumbles, walking to the small door right off your kitchen leading to the laundry room. He comes back with a mop, and he immediately bends down, carefully picking up some of the larger pieces of broken glass. Your mouth is dropped open like a fucking fish, and you’re gripping the counter tight because you’re afraid that if you don’t, you will faint. He places the pieces on the counter and then starts mopping, all the while as you watch on. He looks like he’s done this a million times before, like he feels completely at home.
No one says a word. He picks up more pieces, mops the floor dry and sweeps the rest. You finally move once the floor is cleared enough for you to save your bare feet. You put the broken bottle pieces in the trash after wrapping them up. When he steps closer, you can smell his cologne, a familiar scent. Memories of last night assault you. You feel dizzy and panicked. And you don’t know what to do.
“What’s for dinner?” He says once the clean up is finished. You blink at him a few times. He waits patiently.
“Chicken and rice.” You sputter out. He nods.
“I can start the rice.”
Once again, you move rhythmically together in complete silence. He takes the lead, and you’re so shocked and out of your element that you just go along with it. He cleans and soaks the rice before starting on the vegetables. You chop the chicken. Soon, the aroma of food fills the kitchen. The words between you two are no more than simple sentences, like ‘pass me the knife’, or ‘can you taste this?’ or “I’ll plate everything”. Soon enough, both of you carry plates and glasses of water to the living room. He flops down carelessly on the couch, digging in immediately. Normally, you would watch TV while you do this, but you just sit in silence, slowly chewing. Your tongue feels like rubber. You can barely swallow.
“Are you here to kill me?” You finally ask.
You can hear his huff. Amused laughter. He shakes his head.
“I would’ve done it yesterday if I was planning to.” He replies.
Another bout of silence. You think that it’s awkward, but with how he is lazing on the couch, you don’t believe that he feels the same way.
“Why are you here then?” You say next.
He doesn’t reply immediately this time, chewing slowly in silence. You watch him, the straight bridge of his nose, full lips, pretty eyelashes that flutter over his cheeks. No wonder you lost all critical thinking yesterday. He looks like a siren, a master at luring victims in with his endless charm.
“Chicken is good.” He mumbles, putting another mouthful past his lips. He ignores your question. You feel a twinge of irritation, placing your half eaten plate on the coffee table.
“Thanks.” You reply. “Why are you here?”
Silence again. He eats some more, emptying his helping. He gestures to the plate you just set down. “Are you gonna finish that?”
When he reaches towards the coffee table, you shoot forward, gripping his wrist hard. His head snaps to you, his expression both surprised and curious. You swallow at the intense look in his eyes, your grip loosening out of fear. Hesitantly, you take your grip away.
“What do you want from me?” You ask. “Do you want me to sign the business over? Is that it?”
He scoffs, a sound tinged with arrogance as he rolls his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck about what you do with your business.”
You grit your teeth. “Okay. What then?”
You can see his jaw tick. He doesn’t say anything more. Shadows pass over his face, a myriad of them. He’s clearly struggling with something. But you don’t know what.
“If you don’t sell, he’ll have you killed.” He says.
You watch him closely, remembering last night, looking at him now. “But it won’t be you who does it.”
He rolls his eyes, leans back on the couch. “Keep talking and it will be.”
You can feel the corner of your lip twitch. “No, it won’t. You said it yourself. If you wanted to kill me, you would’ve done it yesterday.”
Again, his jaw clicks in annoyance. Surprisingly, you feel amusement curl in you.
“You came here just to see me.” You comment. “Do you like me, Josh?”
He blinks. Stares at you. “You know my name.”
You nod slowly. “Seungkwan told me.”
When he doesn’t speak, you clarify. “Seungkwan is my employee. You know, the guy who serves you coffee everyd-”
“I know.” He cuts you off. You clear your throat.
“Right.” You quip. “Because you stalked me.”
Now, his lips lift in a smirk. “I did. You’re really cute.”
You can feel the back of your neck prick with heat. You look away when his stare becomes too much, your heart beating fast from having his gaze on you. You admonish yourself. This is sick behavior, getting excited at the thought of him watching you.
“It’s Joshua, by the way.” He mumbles. “I prefer Joshua.”
You fight the urge to squirm, feeling a little giddy. Joshua.
“So…… what now?” You try to change the subject.
Joshua huffs and purses his lips a bit. “I already told you.”
You scowl. “I’m not selling.”
He sits up abruptly at your words, startling you. He looks ticked off now, but you don’t feel the same fear you felt before around him. “What the hell is your problem? This stupid business isn’t the cost of you dying.”
“It’s not stupid.” You spit, surprised by his sudden outburst. “I put my heart and soul into this shop. It’s mine. Just because some rich businessman throws a tantrum, I’m not gonna give up and step aside.”
Joshua watches you, eyes flitting between yours. If he wasn’t so close, you wouldn’t notice the way his pupils just subtly dilate.
“You’re so hot.” He mumbles. You blink, shocked.
“What?”
His eyes dart down to your lips, and they stay there. You shift under the intensity of his stare. “This is why I couldn’t kill you. You’re so hardheaded over stupid shit. You take so much interest in it. I can’t help but….”
Your heart is kicking painfully at your ribs. Your cheeks are flaming. He’s so close. If he pushes forward just a little bit, he would kiss you.
“But what?” You urge him.
He blinks, stares at you for a full minute. Then, his lips stretch up in another amused smile, softer this time, like something in his head has clicked. He shakes his head.
“Nothing.”
You’re a bit thrown off when he abruptly stands, beelining to your front door. He tugs his shoes on, reaching into the pocket of his jeans for what looks like car keys.
“Where are you going?” You ask, flabbergasted by his sudden departure.
“Hang tight, princess.” That’s all he says, closing your door behind him with a soft click.
………………………………..
Joshua has killed many, many people.
Many people.
He has killed absolute destitutes, homeless drug dealers who are a thorn in the side of bigger kingpins. He has also killed said kingpins for even larger conglomerates. Whether rich or poor, Joshua doesn’t discriminate. He has his own system, a code, and he sticks with it no matter what.
It is wildly against his code to kill his employer. Yet, here he is.
Joshua stares at the man slumped over on his desk, tracking the slow spread of dark blood over the mahogany surface. The metallic smell of it is already infiltrating the air, a very familiar scent for Joshua. That’s not the new part, the new part is the fact that Joshua came here under the guise of accepting the job of killing you, received his payment, and then shot the man who paid him.
Oh well. Joshua doesn’t exactly pride himself on morals.
It’s comical, in a sense. The fact that Joshua is altering the ethical code he created in his head because of….. you. Some girl he is fixated so deeply on. He doesn’t know if he loves you, or could ever love you. A part of him doesn’t think he is even capable of something like that. But he is infatuated, more than he has ever been with another person, and he counts that as love, whatever version of it he can muster.
And if the look in your eyes was anything to go by, you’re infatuated with him too.
So Joshua leaves his victim just like that, draped over a pool of his own blood. He isn’t worried about being caught. The guy was basically a tyrant. No one would miss him, so no one would come after Joshua for revenge. In fact, he’s pretty sure people would thank him if they knew who did this. He has very intimate knowledge of all the businesses this man usurped, it was a part of his initial research, and now they will all flourish again. He also imagines the invisible burden on your shoulders lifted now that the man threatening your livelihood is finally gone.
Joshua doesn’t think he’s moral in the general sense. He’s moral by his own standards, and his standards are encircling around your presence frighteningly quick.
……………………………..
You don’t see Joshua for days, but many things happen in his absence.
When Seungkwan shows up at the shop the day after your encounter, his hair is wind swept and his cheeks are flushed, like he ran all the way here.
“Turn on the TV.” He gasps out when you raise an eyebrow at him. You’re just putting out the last of today’s treats, but you set the tray down and follow Seungkwan’s instructions, getting the remote for the television mounted above the counter. Seungkwan is pulling his jacket off, trying to catch his breath. He takes the remote from you and flips to the news.
Your mouth drops open.
You can’t believe it. He’s dead. Not dead, killed. In his locked office, with no witnesses and no known suspects. You immediately know who did this, and you grapple with the sudden rush of emotions you feel. You remember the look in Joshua’s eyes, the smile he gave right before he got up and left. You got a strange feeling about him leaving, but you never anticipated that he would do this. Of all things in the world that he, or anyone, could do for you, this is definitely the most extreme, the pinnacle of devotion. This is more than just an action. This is a statement.
Joshua killed for you.
The rest of the day goes by in a haze. The murder of Carats Ridge’s most prolific businessman is huge news, especially among your usual clientele who are almost all office workers in the area. The overall sentiment is a mix of shock, excitement, and suppressed, guilt-ridden relief. Everyone knows that man was cruel and undeserving, and his reign ending has left many, including you, breathing a little bit better. Seungkwan in particular hides no feelings about the situation as he blabbers on to you.
“Serves him right.” He snarks. “Bet he finally pissed some poor bastard off enough to get himself killed. He had it coming. Mingyu can get his gym back. He has been so depressed since it closed.”
Mingyu is one of Seungkwan’s best friends. He owned a gym in the next building over, that he was forced to sell to the victim of last night’s crime a few months ago. You try to tamp down your smile at Seungkwan’s comment. You’re happy. Mingyu is a straightforward, honest guy. He deserves to have his business back.
You don’t know where Joshua is.
Days pass. The news stays a hot topic in everyone’s whispers for a while, but eventually dies, people already losing interest as the police chase their own tails. No one cares, and law enforcement doesn’t particularly care either, since there’s no pressure from anyone to solve the murder. You spend day after day just carrying on, baking, serving, brewing coffee, keeping your business in order. Life goes back to normal. The dust settles.
Still no Joshua.
You wait in the office every night. You walk home slowly. You leave your front door unlocked. He doesn’t come. You have no way of contacting him, and you curse yourself for letting him leave just like that. Deep down, you hope he’s watching you again, like he claimed to watch you for so many weeks before he stepped out of the shadows. You have stopped wondering what the fuck is wrong with you at this point. You don't care. You're taken with Joshua. You want him to come back.
One week after you last saw him, you are roused from sleep in the dead of the night when you feel something on your waist, sliding forward to splay over your stomach. You go rigid for just a small second, but before you can jerk away, before the fear of being woken by someone in your bed truly gets to you, your nose is infiltrated by the scent of a very familiar cologne.
“You came.” Your voice is hoarse with sleep. He hums. You feel his front press to your back.
“This is the first time you haven’t screamed when seeing me.” He retorts. You stare straight forward in the pitch darkness of the room, basking in his touch.
Your lips tug up in a smile. You feel his mouth on your bare shoulder. He sighs into you.
“Didn’t know you slept naked.” He comments.
His hand on your stomach comes up, framing your ribcage just beneath the swell of your breast. Your eyes flutter, but all slumber has escaped from them. Your body is buzzing where he presses his clothed form into you, a contrast that feels good against your skin. Your senses are waking up. You let out a breath when he nips at your neck.
“I don’t.” You reply, letting your implication linger in the air. Joshua pauses for a brief second. Then, he chuckles.
“Dirty girl.” His voice is lazy, almost slurred. He sounds like the one who just got woken up, not you. The deep timbre goes straight between your legs. “Missed me that bad?”
You nod, and he can feel it where the side of his head presses to yours. His lips trail all the way to your earlobe, nipping at it. His fondles with your breast a bit. When you grind your ass back on him, you can feel that he’s hard.
“Why’d you do it?” You ask.
Joshua’s tongue runs over the shell of your ear. You suppress a shiver. “For you.”
He presses his pelvis into your ass, slowly, sensually. Your eyelids flutter. You’re getting wetter by the minute. You reach up, intertwining your fingers with the hand he has over your breast.
“Stay here with me?”
You feel him smile into your hair. He reaches his other hand around you, cupping your jaw to tilt your head so his lips can brush against yours.
“Always.”
Then, he finally kisses you properly. You breathe into him with relief, arching your back so your head can curve backwards more, deepening the kiss. He wastes no time sliding his tongue in, and you return his enthusiasm eagerly. It is charged and meaningful, more than the curious heat that sizzled between you the first time you did this. It’s heavier this time, with the weight of a promise. And that makes it feel ten times better.
Joshua bucks his hips into your ass again. He’s fully hard now, straining against his pants. Your hand scrambles with the material, tugging impatiently at it. He lets out a laugh.
“Eager.” He hums. “Have I turned you into a good little whore?”
A coil tightens in the base of your stomach. You can feel how wet you are. You clench around nothing and whine into his mouth.
“It’s okay.” He placates you. “I’m gonna give it to you, baby. Kept you waiting, didn’t I? Had to get a few things in order, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”
He’s pulling his jeans and boxers down in one motion, and you feel his shaft nestle between your asscheeks. He grinds a few times, and you feel something wet hit your skin. Precum. He’s throbbing hard, and leaking. You need him inside you bad.
Joshua doesn’t waste any time. He doesn’t even properly push his clothes off. He hooks a hand under your knee and lifts your leg, prodding forward until his head is catching on your opening, and he’s sliding inside all the way to the base.
“Fuck.” You gasp, eyes tearing up at the stretch. Not from pain, but with the pure, unfiltered relief of being filled. Joshua is cursing into the back of your shoulder, his other arm that’s under you winding around your body to hold you closely against him. Then, he starts thrusting into you.
It’s messy and sweaty, bodies writhing on the mattress. Joshua maneuvers you into whatever position he wants that will make him hit far enough inside you to feel in the deepest parts of your core. You whine and cry through it as he whispers absolutely filthy things in your ear, describing how tight you are, how your virgin pussy still isn’t used to him, how he needs to spend all night really breaking you in until your walls recognise the shape of his cock. It’s enough to leave you a babbling, blushing mess, but you love it.
Every way he turns you, every time he rams his cock into you, makes you cum over and over again for hours, all of it leaves you feeling more depraved. Now that you’re covered and hidden by the darkness of your bedroom, his body draped over you to shield you from everything else, you let yourself really feel this sick part of you that loves everything Joshua is doing for you, has done for you. Maybe that’s why you don’t mind him, or how fucked up he is. Because you are equal parts fucked up.
He likes his coffee black and bitter. He knows that you like yours the exact same way.
back in college the golden boy from high school was the perfect summer fling. you went off to pursue your career in a different city, and he stayed in carat ridge and opened a bakery. now you’re both pushing thirty and mingyu has made it clear he won’t let you slip away again.
˙⋆✮ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): romance, exes to lovers, smut
˙⋆✮ 𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol, small town
˙⋆✮ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 13.2k
˙⋆✮ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cussing, smut, angst, body insecurities, lover boy mingyu
˙⋆✮ 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected p in v, creampie, big dick mingyu, car sex, multiple positions, fooling around in the shower, hand job, fingering, oral (both rec), deep throating, mingyu is messy, mingyu is a yapper in bed. Nicknames: sweetie, baby, babe, good girl (hers) baby, gyu (his).
˙⋆✮ 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw
˙⋆✮ 𝐚𝐧: this was written for Carats Ridge: A Small Town Collab, hosted by @imnotshua , @100vern and @starlightkyeom. thank you @aeristudios for helping me figure out this story. Thank you @livmarauder for beta reading
🎧: headlights - in color | snooze - sza | honest - the band camino
Highschool wasn’t kind to you. It turns out being a shy nerdy bookworm will earn you some cruel words from bullies. There was one goal you had through school, survive and run away to a college far away in the city.
Throughout high school many of the popular kids were terrible, but there were a few that were always kind. The captain of the baseball team, Kim Mingyu, the golden boy of your high school, was always kind. Walking the halls some snobby girls would always make cruel comments to you. Anytime Mingyu was around he would immediately defend you. It was hard not to have a crush on the golden boy with a crooked smile.
After graduation you were finally free. A scholarship helped you go to college in the city away from Carat Ridge and the pain high school caused you. Originally you planned on staying in the city during the summers. Things changed the summer of your sophomore year going into junior year of college, you couldn’t get into your new apartment until right before the school year. You were unfortunately forced to spend the summer at home with your parents.
You passed the hot summer days by working at your best friend Joshua’s family coffee shop to make some extra money. On your first day working, you met your coworkers, one of them being your former high school golden boy, Mingyu. You learned quickly, the popular jock you remember from your days back in school was actually a kind boy with a heart of gold. You learned he was charming, and loved flirting with you.
What started out as innocent flirting through your shifts quickly led to so much more. Long shifts at the coffee shop together, led to nightly hangouts in Mingyu's small two bedroom apartment living room that he shared with his best friend, Wonwoo.
That summer that you shared so many firsts with Mingyu. At the age of twenty you lost your virginity, to the same boy you had a crush on in high school. As quickly as it all began, it fell apart. Your final day before going back to school you both made a promise to keep in touch. In the beginning you were good at staying in contact but as the days went on, you knew deep down that you were nothing more than a summer fling to your town's golden boy.
ONE: THE GOLDEN BOY AND THE SWEETEST TREATS
You never planned on coming back after college. Hell, you wouldn’t have come back if your mother didn’t beg you to return home and help with her bookstore. Your job as an editor at a publishing house allows you to work remotely, so packing up and moving home would allow you to keep your job.
Being home in the small town you grew up in, things felt just like they used to. You’ve gotten yourself a two bedroom apartment on top of the coffee shop that Joshua now owns. It’s located down in the small downtown area.
After a long day at work you decide to treat yourself. Nothing sounds better than something sweet to snack on. Joshua told you about a bakery across the street that has the best cinnamon rolls in town according to him.
The moment you walk into Sweet Kisses bakery, you're shocked to see Kim Mingyu standing there behind the register. The smile that forms on his face at the sight of you standing there was something you can't quite explain. He looks like the same boy you kissed goodbye all those years ago, now he’s just bigger and looks even more mature.
It turns out the golden boy from high school could still give you butterflies. What was supposed to be a quick trip to grab a cinnamon roll, led to you staying in the bakery for two hours, catching up. Mingyu wants to hear all about your life since college. You learn a lot about what he's been up to. He finished up school at the local college, before going to culinary school. Back during your summer together you were well aware that he was a good cook. You aren't surprised he became a baker.
“Can I ask you to get dinner together tonight?” You stare at him shocked that he seems to be interested in you, after all these years.
“Like right now?”
“Yeah now. Chan is closing up tonight. I’m able to leave now.” Glancing over at Chan he gives you a thumbs up and a smile.
You should say no, going out might bring up some unresolved feelings. “Sure.”
Mingyu leads you out of his bakery. He doesn't bother offering to give you a ride. Carat Ridge is quite quaint and there's multiple places you can walk to for good food in this little downtown area.
Mingyu walks right next to you. He keeps glancing over at you, listening to you talk.
“Is it too forward to say, I still think you’re beautiful.” He gives you that same crooked smile he used to give you back when you were in college.
“Still?”
“You know I thought you were beautiful from the moment I first saw you. Back when we worked at Cups I thought you were so pretty, I could barely focus on doing my job.”
He stops in front of a little Italian restaurant. This is a place you've been many times before. You love the vodka pasta here. Joshua and you used to order pizza here all the time back in school.
Mingyu leads you inside. You instantly recognize your server as one of the girls from high school. She's one of the girls that used to fawn over Mingyu, but she wasn't one of the mean girls. She was one of the few girls who were always kind to you. She's still just as pretty as she was back in school. You notice she's wearing an engagement ring, and is probably seven to eight months pregnant.
"Hey Gyu." She walks towards your table. They must be close if she's calling him a nickname.
"Hi, Dove. How is the baby doing?"
Instinctively she rubs her stomach. "He's getting too big."
"Cheol mentioned they might need to move your due date up." You recognize the name Cheol. All the puzzle pieces are coming together. Dove must be engaged or married to Choi Seungcheol.
"Yeah. I'm seven months pregnant, and it feels like I'm overdue." She lets out a sigh. "Alright enough about me, and my condition Seungcheol caused. Who is this lovely girl?"
"This is ____."
Dove's eyes light up. "You went to school with us right?"
"Yeah."
"You're Joshua's best friend?"
"Yeah I am."
"You must be the pretty girl Gyu has mentioned before." She shoves Mingy’s shoulder.
Glancing over at Mingyu, you see him blushing with the tips of his ears turning red. You didn't think Mingyu would mention anything about you to his friends.
"Alright Dove, that's enough. We'll take a vodka pasta, and the chicken pesto pizza."
She pulls out her note pad and jots down the order. "Did you want anything to drink?"
"I'll take a glass of red wine." You say.
"Make it two." Mingyu hands her the menus.
He shakes his head trying to hide his embarrassment. "So you've talked about me to your friends?" You ask.
"Just Wonwoo and Cheol, and well technically Dove. She's engaged to Cheol and having his kid."
"Choi Seungcheol?"
"Yep, that's him."
"Is Wonwoo still in town?" You remember Wonwoo used to play baseball with Mingyu and Seungcheol. You knew he was big into gaming back in the day.
"Yeah he's started a tech company and works just outside of town. He lives in a house with me a couple streets over."
"What's Seungcheol up to?"
"Other than being engaged and having a baby?"
"Yeah."
"He's a firefighter. Him and Dove got together after she had a bad breakup a couple years ago."
You look over at Dove, she seems happy. She was always so sweet, you're happy she found love with Seungcheol.
"Did you ever date her?" You remember her clearly having a crush on Mingyu in school.
He lets out a little laugh. "No, back in school Cheol liked her. Even though I knew she liked me, it didn't matter. I had a crush on someone else. And I thought Dove and Cheol would be a good pair. It just took them about ten years to figure it out."
You watch as she walks over holding a bottle of wine, and two glasses. "Here you two go."
"We just ordered single glasses." You say.
"I know, but technically I owe Gyu a favor. So the bottle is on the house." She walks away smiling.
"A favor?" You ask.
"I finally got Seungcheol to make a move on her. She's returning the favor." His cheeks are dusted with pink again.
"Oh." That's definitely not what you expected him to say.
"She knows about our summer together. I didn't shut up about it after it happened."
Mingyu pours each of you a glass of wine.
He tells you about how he opened his bakery as you sip on your wine. Dove comes over, dropping off your pasta to share, and the pizza he ordered. You couldn’t help but smile that Mingyu remembers your favorite foods from here. Talking to Mingyu is as easy as it was all those summers ago.
The bill comes and before Dove can even set it down, Mingyu hands her his card. She scurries off and comes back. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out cash to hand her as a tip.
"Gyu, you don't have to tip me."
He stands up and smiles. "I know, but I want to."
"Alright, but that means you have to come over to dinner next week."
He leans over and gives her a side hug. "Yes ma'am. Tell Cheol I'll be over next week. What would you like from the bakery?"
"A cinnamon roll please."
"Okay."
"It was nice to see you again, Dove." You say, standing up as you smooth the creases in your dress.
"It was great seeing you again. You're invited over anytime you would like. If you want to come with Gyu next week, you can." This all feels oddly easy.
"Thank you."
Mingyu leads you out of the restaurant. He glances down the street and back at you. "What's the chances that I can walk you home?"
"Pretty high." You give him a smile and nudge his arm.
Mingyu holds his hand out, hoping you'll take it. Lacing your fingers with his, he leads you down the street back towards his bakery. You can't help but wonder what would have happened between you, if you didn't move away to go to school. If you had stayed, would you and Mingyu have lasted after that summer? You've tried your hardest not to think about the what ifs. You just want to focus on what is happening now. It's clear right now Mingyu wants to get to know you, again.
He knows exactly where you live, leading you down the street. The sidewalk is lit up from the glow of the street lights, and the twinkle lights some of the businesses have up. This city looks exactly how it did when you left all those years ago.
Arriving at Joshua's coffee shop, there is, door on the corner that leads up to your apartment. Mingyu is still holding your hand, definitely not ready to say goodbye.
"Would you like to walk me upstairs?"
"Yeah."
Pulling open the door you lead him up the stairwell. You stop in the entry way that leads to the two apartments up here. One of them being yours, and the others being Joshua's.
"Can I ask for your number?"
"Yeah."
He releases your hand, humbling with his pocket to fish out his phone. He quickly unlocks it and hands it to you. Typing in your number, you give your phone a call, so you'll have his number saved.
"Text me, Gyu."
Leaning up, you press your lips to his cheek for a quick kiss. He pulls away instantly blushing. His bottom lip is captured between his teeth.
"I'll definitely text you."
TWO: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND
It's a chilly morning making you bundle up further under your covers. You're not ready to get up. Your phone buzzes in your nightstand.
8:17am Mingyu: good morning.
Butterflies flutter around your stomach. God, you do want to text him, but you're so nervous. Right now, you just need to talk to someone about this. There is only one person who truly knows what unfolded between you and Mingyu. Luckily that man lives next door. Scurrying around your apartment, you quickly get dressed. It's probably too early to be bugging Joshua, but you don't care.
Knocking on the door you patiently wait for Joshua to answer.
The door swings open and Joshua looks confused.
"Yes?" He asks.
"Mingyu texted me."
Joshua raises his brows and steps aside. He knows you well enough to know that you're indeed about to spiral.
Walking off to the kitchen he grabs a cup of coffee. You stand in his living room waiting for him. He walks towards you sipping on his hot coffee.
"Did you want to start freaking out now, or later?"
You groan tilting your head back. You start pacing in front of him. Coming home, you hadn’t intended on reconnecting with anyone other than Joshua. Running into Mingyu suddenly makes the world start spinning sideways.
"Why is he still interested in me?"
"Because he likes you?"
"Why though? There is nothing special about me." No matter how much time has passed since those not so great years in high school, you still have self confidence issues. Your lack luster dating life over the years probably didn't help.
"You're severely underselling yourself."
You stop pacing and stare at him. "Joshua."
"Listen, you and him were a good pair that summer. Mingyu is a really good guy, just give him a chance." You're curious how much Mingyu has spoken to Joshua about you. There is no way Joshua would be pushing for you to give Mingyu a shot, if he didn't think he was a good guy.
Joshua says your name and pauses. He takes a moment to give you a pleading look. "I know you've been screwed over by men in the past, but I promise Mingyu isn't one of those guys. Just give him a chance."
A heavy sigh passes your lips. "I'll talk to Mingyu."
Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you open your text to see Mingyu's name.
9:02am Sweetie: good morning.
It's just a simple text, but it is the start of a conversation.
9:04am Mingyu: I was a little scared you were going to disappear on me.
9:05am Sweetie: nope. I just had a crazy morning.
Joshua is standing there smiling, watching as you text Mingyu.
9:07am Mingyu: do you work today? I know it's Saturday but I'm not sure how your job works.
You know where this conversation is going. He's going to ask you out. You lock your phone and look up at Joshua.
"I think he's going to ask me out."
Joshua lets out a little laugh before taking a drink of his coffee. "Then agree to go out with him."
9:10am Sweetie: I'm off today.
9:10am Mingyu: I'm at the bakery until 11 this morning. What are the chances that we can spend the day together?
You glance up at Joshua and he just raises his brow at you.
9:11am Sweetie: I'm down to spend the day with you.
9:12am Mingyu: I can come over and pick you up, or you can meet me at the bakery and I'll give you a sweet treat.
9:13am Sweetie: I'll meet you at your bakery.
Arriving at Mingyu bakery, you see the same man who was working yesterday. You believe his name is Chan. He's got a girl working with him. The bakery is pretty quiet other than the older lady the girl is helping.
Chan sees you and immediately smiles. "He's in the back. He said to send you back there once you get here."
He waves you to follow him. Walking through the small bakery you walk in the back to find Mingyu dressed in a pair of jeans and white shirt, with an apron covered in flour. He gives you a crooked smile the second he notices your presence.
"You heading out, Gyu?" Chan asks.
"Yeah. I just finished the chocolate chunk cookies, go ahead and put them out."
You walk further into the back kitchen. You see the tray of delicious freshly baked cookies in front of him.
He grabs one and holds it out for you. You remember that summer all those years ago, when Mingyu would bring these same cookies to work. After he found out you liked them, he would often bring you a batch of cookies.
"I hope these are still your favorite."
How on earth does he remember that? "What?"
"You used to love these cookies. I made an extra batch today just for you."
Reaching out you take the still warm cookie. "Mingyu, what is your game plan here?" You need to know how serious he is about you.
He wipes his hands on his apron. "Game plan?"
"Yeah, is this a game?" Maybe he's just trying to see if he can get the girl he had a fling with all those years ago.
He's silent for a moment. He takes off his apron and hangs it up. The kitchen suddenly feels so small. He walks towards you. "Sweetie, I'm a grown man pushing thirty. You're out of your mind if you think I'm playing a game with you. I'm serious about pursuing you."
"Oh." That's definitely not what you thought he would say to you.
"Why don't you try the cookie?"
Taking a bite, you're hit with the sweet nostalgic chocolately flavor. Your mouth instantly waters. It tastes just as good as they did all those years ago. His eyes are locked on yours as he watches you eat the cookie.
"Do you still love the cookie?"
"Yeah."
He gives you a smile. He truly is the perfect man. The way he looks at you has butterflies fluttering around your stomach.
"How about we go get coffee from Joshua's place, and then go out for lunch?"
"Okay."
"Give me a minute to get ready."
Mingyu leaves you alone for a minute so he can clean himself up. You stand there eating the delicious cookie.
He walks back towards you and hold his hand out. Without thinking, you lace your fingers with his.
Mingyu takes you to Joshua's coffee shop and you instantly smile as he orders the same soy vanilla latte you used to drink nonstop that summer. His fingers stay laced with yours. He leads you out of the coffee shop. You run into Joshua coming down from upstairs. The grin that instantly forms on his lips at the sight of you and Mingyu is a firm reminder he will be saying, "I told you so."
"Hey, Shua." Mingyu greets him.
"Where are you two off to?" Joshua asks.
"I'm taking her to the museum and then I was thinking we can grab food."
Joshua smiles glancing over at you. "Have fun you two."
He leads you back behind his bakery. You spot a small black suv parked there. You would know this car anywhere. It's the same car he got a few months before your summer together. You spent many evenings making out in the back seat of his car. Reaching into his pocket he pulls out his keys. He unlocks the doors. He leads you over to the passenger side and opens the door. It's clear he's still very much a gentleman. He releases your hand and helps you inside.
He jogs to the drivers side as you buckle your seatbelt.
"I know I told Shua we were going to the museum, but what do you think about going to the aquarium?"
"Isn't that an hour away?" In your whole life you've lived here you've only taken the drive there maybe three times, and one of those times was with Mingyu. It was one of those random days you were both off. You had stayed over his place, and were woken up when he decided you needed to take a day trip. That day is a memory that lives in your mind on repeat.
"Yeah, but I don't mind driving. If I remember correctly you used to talk about how much you love jellyfish."
"I still do."
"Let's go to the aquarium."
The drive to the aquarium is relaxing. Mingyu sings along to the radio as his hand strums against the steering wheel to the beat of the song. He's truly a different man now, and fully mature, but you realize he's still that same twenty year old boy you spent the summer with.
Arriving at the aquarium, he jumps out of the car the moment he put it in park.
THREE: AN EMOTIONAL CONNECTION
Walking up to the ticket window, Mingyu pays for two tickets. He takes your hand leading you inside. Hand in hand, you walk into the room filled with tropical fish. He lets go of your hand as you walk closer to the glass. It's hard not to be completely enamored by the site of the vibrant fish.
Mingyu stays close to you, never too far away. He follows you with a smile plastered on his face. He loves watching you light up at the sight of all the fishes.
Heading down a hallway, you a huge smile takes over your face, at the sight of all the electric looking jellyfish surrounded by dark water. Mingyu stands behind you watching you carefully. He pulls out his phone and snaps a photo of you absolutely captivated.
Your hand rests on the thick glass. You didn't realize you missed coming here so badly. In the city there isn't an aquarium anywhere close.
Turning back you find him holding his phone watching you. "Are you filming me?"
"I don't want to ever forget seeing you this happy, again."
"Again?" You raise your brow.
"I should have filmed you the last time we were here."
The aquarium was amazing. Mingyu followed you around anywhere you could possibly want to go. He never complained even when you went back to the jellyfish room, twice.
Reluctantly you told him it's probably time to leave. For the last hour your stomach has been grumbling reminding you that you're indeed hungry. He mentions that he knows a good Italian restaurant about ten minutes away.
He drives you both over, you can't help but be curious if he knows about this place because he's taken someone here on a date before.
"How do you know about this place?" You ask as you're parked right outside.
"I came here with Wonwoo one day. A girl he likes used to work here."
"Is Wonwoo single?"
"Yeah, he's so wrapped up in work. I don't think he knows how to be in a relationship."
Heading inside you notice how quiet and quaint this place is. The waitress immediately takes you to a booth in the back. You look at the menu and notice this place is a fusion place. There is a miso pasta dish that sounds delicious.
"The uni pasta is what I got here last time." He says peaking up from his menu.
An older woman comes over with a notepad in hand. She takes your order and mentions a good wine pairing for each of your pastas you ordered.
She comes back over bringing you two glasses of white wine, and a basket of warm bread.
Mingyu grabs a warm piece of bread. He starts buttering it. "This is a great date."
He gives you a smile. "I remember how much you loved the aquarium when we were younger. I thought going to it would make you smile."
"It was lovely going back."
He hands out the butter piece of bread to you. "Do you plan on staying in Carat Ridge?" He asks.
"Yeah, my mom needs me."
"That's kind of you to move back home for her."
"I always assumed coming back home would hurt, but it doesn't."
He takes a small bite of the bread. "Why would it hurt?"
"Back in school, people weren't necessarily nice to me. I didn't have many people I could call friends here. I really only ever had Joshua, and Jeonghan."
"I would have been friends with you back then."
"Mingyu, you didn't really know me back then."
He lets out a sigh. He wishes he could go back in time and make his younger self talk to the cute girl with glasses in his chemistry class. He knows back then people were cruel to you, but he would never let anyone he was friends with ever say anything mean about you.
"I wish I would have spoken to you more back then."
The waitress comes over and places the food down in front of you. There is a silence that takes over the table. Both of you desperately want to say something, but neither of you do. Quietly you both start eating.
Taking slow bites of your pasta you watch him eat. There is this little voice eating away at you. You need to know what his expectations are. For a few years you've been struggling with intimacy.
"Mingyu?"
He stops eating and glances up at you."Yeah?"
"I don't know what your expectations are, but I need you to know something."
His brows knit together as a look of confusion plays across his face. "What's up?"
"When it comes to sex, and intimacy, I know we had sex back when we were twenty, but—" You feel so awkward having to have this conversation. "I don't have sex outside of a relationship now. I need a strong emotional connection."
"That's fine. I want that too. I know you probably think I'm some fuck boy, but I'm not. I like to only have sex with women I'm dating."
"Oh."
"We can do this on your timeframe."
He gives you a smile with those golden retriever eyes before taking another bite of his pasta. "Sweetie?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm serious about actually dating you. I'm not just trying to get into your pants."
A smile tugs at your lips. Sticking your fork into the pasta you take another bite.
You've built up a lot of walls over the years. Maybe it's time you start letting them down. Mingyu has made it clear he wants to try and build something real with you.
FOUR: YOU GIVE ME BUTTERFLIES
Things with Mingyu feel like a whirlwind. You never expected to reconnect with him like this. Realistically you thought he would have forgotten you after all these years. No matter how much you cared for him that summer, you tried your hardest after going back to school to tell yourself he was just a fling. It took a while but you eventually moved on. You eventually start seeing a boy you fell in love with. You stayed with him until a year after college. Since then you have tried dating to no success. Coming back home, you had no intention of starting a relationship with anyone, let alone Mingyu.
Things with him are easy. He's attentive and kind. You wake up to a good morning text everyday.
You've spent the day glued to your computer working. You have a draft that you've been looking at the past two days. You haven't done much other than be stuck staring at your computer. You're just about finished and then you're free tomorrow.
Your phone vibrates on your desk. You glance over to see a new message from Mingyu.
4:56pm Mingyu: how is work going?
4:57pm Sweetie: I'm finally finishing up this project.
4:57pm Mingyu: I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my place tonight? Cheol and Dove are coming over to have dinner with me and Wonwoo.
Since you started seeing Mingyu, you have been getting to know his friends more. It's not unusual for you to end up at Mingyu place at night. It still feels a little strange hanging out with his friends. You're trying your hardest to let down your walls, and to fully embrace dating Mingyu.
5:01pm Sweetie: Sure I can come over.
5:01pm Mingyu: I can pick you up. What time did you want to come over?
5:02pm Sweetie: I'll be done with work in a half hour. I just need like twenty minutes to get ready after.
5:03pm Mingyu: Can you stay over tonight again?
5:04pm Sweetie: Yea.
In the last week, you've found yourself having sleepovers with Mingyu. Nothing sexual has unfolded between the two of you. The most you've done is have some pretty intense make out sessions.
The moment you finish working, you start getting ready. You pack a small overnight bag. There is a knock on your door. Rushing over, you open it and find Mingyu standing on the other side.
Dressed in a simple white shirt and a pair of jeans, he looks effortlessly handsome. He wastes no time leaning down and pressing his lips to yours for a kiss.
"Hello beautiful." He loves to greet you like this. Every time he does it, those two simple words fill your stomach with fluttering butterflies.
"I'm ready."
You pull away and grab your bag you have sitting on the couch.
As soon as you get to Mingyu's place you sit in the kitchen while he starts cooking dinner. Your laptop is in front of you while you're scrolling around online shopping. You and Mingyu are talking about random things.
Wonwoo pops in from work, and gives you a smile. "What time is Cheol and Dove getting here?"
"I think an hour?" Mingyu responds.
"Okay. I'm going to take a quick shower."
"Sweetie is staying over tonight." Mingyu has really latched on to your nickname he called you all those years ago. It's rare he calls you your actual name anymore. You don't think he's ever said your name around Wonwoo.
"Sounds good."
-
As soon as Wonwoo is ready Seungcheol and Dove arrive. Dove waddles in slowly. She's basically at her due date now. Seungcheol plays the role of the doting husband perfectly.
Everyone meets at the kitchen table. Seungcheol and Dove on one side. You and Mingyu across from them, and Wonwoo is sitting between the two boys.
Everyone is enjoying the delicious meal Mingyu prepared. It feels almost seamless, the way you fit into Mingyu's friend group.
Mingyu's hand rests on your thigh as everyone sits at the table just chatting.
Dove's hand rests on her round stomach as she leans back. "I'm so ready to no longer be pregnant."
Seungcheol reaches over resting his hand next to hers on her stomach. "Babe any day you're going to go into labor."
"Remind me why I let you get me pregnant?" She laughs.
"I wouldn't say you let him." Wonwoo barks out a laugh.
"Oh you're right, Cheol doesn't like condoms." Dove laughs.
Seungcheol's cheeks immediately turn bright red. "Hey, we both knew the risk."
She leans over resting her hand on his cheek. "I know we did. It turns out I love you and thought you would be a good dad."
The way Seungcheol looks at Dove you can tell how much he loves her. Mingyu's large hand rests on your soft thigh. He gives it a squeeze catching your attention. Glancing over at him, he gives you a gentle smile. Without thinking you lean over pressing your lips to his for a soft kiss.
"Let's hope the baby gets Dove's looks." Wonwoo laughs before taking a bite of his food. Seungcheol instantly pouts, Dove leans over and kisses his cheek quickly. "I think my baby daddy is pretty good looking."
"Baby daddy? That's what you see me as?" Seungcheol responds.
"I don't see a wedding ring on her finger." Mingyu says joining in.
"Excuse me. I proposed before I knocked her up. My beloved fiancée is the one who isn’t in a hurry to get married."
By the look and smile plastered across Dove's face, it's very clear they have had this conversation before.
"Cheol if you were my husband, I would still call you my baby daddy."
He lets out a groan and rolls his eyes. "Whatever, baby mama."
"I like the sound of that." She laughs.
After a couple hours Seungcheol and Dove head home. Wonwoo helps clean up the kitchen before heading off to his room. Standing in the kitchen you and Mingyu are sipping on a bottle of beer.
"I like your friends a lot." You lean against the kitchen counter.
"They like you a lot. Dove appreciates having another girl around." He takes a sip of the biter liquid. There is something extra delicious about Mingyu standing there drinking from a bottle of beer.
"Thats good." You set the bottle down on the counter next to you.
He chugs the rest and a little bit of the foam seeps out of top. Without thinking he licks the neck of the bottle. Biting your bottom lip you try not to moan at the sight of him erotically licking the bottle.
He glances at you and can tell you're turned on. "Sweetie?"
"Yes?" He takes a step closer to you.
"I like you a lot."
"Oh?" He takes another step closer to you.
"I like you so much." He stops standing right in front of you. He places the empty bottle of beer on the counter next to you. "Do you like me?" He leans in with his face a few inches from yours. His hands are on either side of you, caging you in against the counter.
"I like you too."
"You just like me?" His nose brushes against yours.
Leaning up, your lips brush against his. "I like you a lot." You whisper slowly.
A small moment passes before he crashes his lips into yours. The kiss is heated, he wastes no time sliding his tongue against the seam of your lips. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close to you. He doesn't kiss you like the naive twenty year old he used to be. He kisses you like the grown man that had yearned for you for years.
Pulling away you're both panting. Who knew a small kiss could turn you on like this?
"Maybe we should go to bed?" He says with his nose brushing against yours.
"Going to bed sounds like a good idea." You lean in with your lips brushing against his.
He grabs your hand pulling you off to his room. Things between you cool down a little bit. Mingyu takes a shower and you lay in bed scrolling through your phone.
You're torn between wanting to climb Mingyu like a tree, and wanting to take it slow. You know if you take it slow, it's just going to build your emotional connection more and more.
Eventually Mingyu joins you in bed. He's dressed in a pair of low sitting lounge pants that shows off not only his mouth watering v lines, but the small patch of pubic hair is peaking out. Closing your eyes you push away all the horny lust filled thoughts that are swirling around in your brain.
The moment he's in bed he pulls your body close to him. He's curled up behind you spooning you.
"I love being able to hold you." He says before pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.
"I like this too."
It doesn't take long before you're both sound asleep with Mingyu holding you close.
FIVE: WANTING SOMETHING MORE
It's been two months since you started seeing Mingyu. Things between you are great, honestly they're probably better than great. He is basically your boyfriend, but you haven't been brave enough to put a label on things. Mingyu made it clear very early on, that any steps forward in the relationship will be your choice. He said he'll give you anything you want, and follow any lead you give. Things sexually between you, haven't progressed past making out and some dry humping. You thought by now, maybe Mingyu would make a move, but he hasn't. He's been a gentleman in every sense of the word.
Today has been terrible to say the least. Attempting to figure out the books for your mother's business has left you stressed and feeling on edge. You've been working on them all day. You've been locked away in your mothers office. At this point you want to relieve some stress.
Grabbing your phone on the table you open your messages to Mingyu.
6:32pm Sweetie: Hey
6:33pm Mingyu: Hey pretty girl.
6:33pm Sweetie: Today has been exhausting.
6:34pm Mingyu: I'm sorry to hear that. Is everything okay?
6:35pm Sweetie: yeah, just dealing with the books for my mom, feels like it's fried my brain. I just wanna lay down and not think.
6:36pm Mingyu: Have you eaten?
6:37pm Sweetie: I had the croissant you gave me last night.
You've spent the whole day helping your mom on your day off. You're running on a latte with two extra shots and a croissant. You're starting to get a headache and you just want to go home, and honestly you want to see Mingyu.
6:37pm Mingyu: That's not enough food.
6:38pm Sweetie: I know. Can I ask for you to come to my place and spend the night?
6:38pm Mingyu: I'm finishing up at the gym with Wonwoo. Let me shower and I'll come over.
6:39pm Sweetie: Just come straight over. You can shower here.
The lust filled part of your brain wants to see him sweaty coming straight from the gym.
6:40pm Mingyu: okay. I'm going to order your favorite Thai and have it delivered.
6:41pm Sweetie: okay see you soon.
Twenty minutes later, Mingyu is walking into your apartment. He's holding his gym bag, and is dressed in a pair of sweatpants and black tank top that's fitted and sticking to his sweaty skin. He wastes no time leaning down and pressing his lips to yours for a quick kiss.
Your hand clings to his tank top. You've had a rough day, and nothing sounds better than being close to him.
"I should shower." An idea pops into your head. You lean up pressing your lips to his for another kiss. "Sweetie, I'm gross and should shower."
"Can I shower with you?" You haven't had sex yet, but a little fooling around in the shower could be fun.
He pulls back and raises his brow. "I thought we were taking things slow?"
"We are, and I'm ready to fool around in the shower." He silently stares at you, trying to figure out what is going on in your mind. "If you're not ready, it's fine." You suddenly feel so stupid.
He tilts your head back with his thumb and index finger. "I'm ready. I've been ready to do everything with you. I just don't want to rush you."
You pull away from him and give him a smile. "Gyu, you're not rushing me."
You take off for the bathroom and hear him following right behind you. Walking into the bathroom you turn on the water, giving it a minute to warm up. Mingyu stands by the door like a statue, just watching you.
You start stripping away your clothes, almost as if you're putting on a show for him. Turning around you raise your brow at him. "Are you going to get naked or just stand there?"
Stepping into the shower, you let the warm water engulf you. The glass door slides shut, Mingyu steps closer to you. Back when you were both twenty, and couldn't keep your hands to yourself, Mingyu looked absolutely gorgeous. Now he's almost thirty and his body is toned and thick. Your eyes travels down to his cock, that definitely is bigger than you remember. He steps closer to you, so that the warm water is hitting both of you.
"How have we not gotten naked before this?" You ask, earning a smile from him.
"You wanted to make sure we had a strong emotional connection." He leans in closer. His wet body is presses against yours. "How is our connection feeling?"
You step back and run your fingers down his wet golden skin. Brushing his belly button, making him inhale a deep breath.
"Super strong," he sighs.
Your fingers drag across his soft length. With each passing moment he's hardening in your hand.
The way he tilts his head back is a beautiful sight. His eyes are squeezed shut, as he takes staggered breaths.
You think back to that summer, and remember all the ways he likes to be touched. Focusing on the mushroom tip, you notice he's still extra sensitive there.
Stepping back away from the water, you drop to your knees in front of him. His eyes go wide, looking down at you he shakes his head.
"Not in the shower, baby. Let's clean up and we can continue on your bed."
"Okay."
True to his word, he takes his time washing both your bodies before he pulls you out of the shower. Wrapping you in a towel, he works on drying you off before patting your ass. Running off to your room, you toss the fluffy towel in the hamper.Laying down on the bed, you naked body is fully on display.
The sight of him standing at the foot of the bed with just a towel wrapped around his glistening naked body is mouth watering. Spreading your legs you make a come hither motion. The bed dips, as he places a knee on the bed. The fluffy white towel is long gone. His gorgeous body is fully naked, on display. His cock is still hard, from fooling around in the shower.
"How far do you want to go?" God you wanna beg to go all the way. You wanna feel his massive cock stretching you out again, but you shouldn't cross every line tonight. Tomorrow is a different story, you should pace yourself.
"I want you in my mouth." During that summer, you only ever gave him head once. The size of his cock, was too much for your inexperienced self. Mingyu was fine with that and never complained. He's always been more of a giver, then a taker.
"I thought I'm too big?" He teases.
"I've learned a few things over the years."
He crawls on the bed, he makes his way over to you. His hands are on either side of you, caging you in.
"Let me taste you first." He leans in with his nose against yours. "I've missed having you like this."
"I remember the first time I ever made you cum." He vividly remembers the first time he fingered you. He thought it was so cute the way you squirmed with his fingers on you. "I bet you taste just as sweet as I remember." He starts leaving a trail of kisses from your lips down your neck. He takes his time to kiss and toy with each of your nipples.
"Gyu, don't tease me."
"I would never do that, baby." He slowly slides down your body. He starts kissing your belly button down to your needy core. The sight of him between your legs is absolutely intoxicating. He parts your folds before diving in. The first lick of his tongue flat against your clit, makes your eyes roll back in your head. He's practically making out with your pussy. He switches between licking, and sucking on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your fingers tangle in his dark locks, holding him closer to you. All the muscles in your body feel alive. One hand stays tangled in his while the other grips your blush colored sheets below you. The lewd sounds of his lips tasting you, aren't even covered by your whiny whimpers and moans leaving your lips.
"Ming—" Your brain can barely function.
He looks up at you with his eyes filled with need. He never stops licking your clit. Your fingers release his hair. Laying down you stare at the ceiling. The coil in your tummy is tightening more and more.
"Mingyu—" his name is nothing more than a whiny plea.
"You're still so good for me." Pushing yourself on to your elbows you look down at him. "You're so close, I can tell. Sweetie, can you cum or me?"
Wordlessly you nod your head. In this moment you think you would do anything he asks. He sucks on your clit a little harder, pushing you over the edge. The free fall off the cliff is like nothing you've ever experienced before. Your walls flutter around his single finger he's started thrusting in and out of you, helping you ride out your earth shattering high.
"Oh my god." You sigh, closing your eyes.
Mingyu slowly pulls away. His eyes stay locked on you, he dips his fingers into his mouth, licking away your release.
Sitting on his knees between your spread legs he finally speaks. "You taste just as sweet as I remember." If you weren't already turned on, you would be now. Your eyes can't focus on anything other than the massive cock that is full hard in front of you. "Baby, you seem distracted." That's an understatement, you're cock drunk, and you haven't even gotten to touch it yet.
He starts slowly stroking himself, staring at you. Pushing yourself up, you desperately want to get closer to him. He tries not to laugh, watching you scramble to move. You're sitting on your knees in front of him. His hand rests on your neck, leaning down, he presses his lips to yours for a heated kiss. There is something intoxicating about the fact you can taste yourself on his tongue.
"Lay down for me." You say with your lips against his.
He gives you one more kiss before laying down on the bed. His straining length is standing there proud and ready. Laying the bed between his spread legs, you slowly start pumping his length. That summer together you mastered the art of giving him a hand job. Start stroking. The base of his length while licking his rosy mushroom tip. Resting on his elbows he watches you carefully with lust blown eyes. Your eyes stay locked on yours.
You start shallowly taking him into your mouth until he's brushing the back of your throat. Breathing through your nose, you focus on letting his slip pass your gag reflex. Your eyes water, and. You let him slip into your throat. A slew of whimpers and moans leave his mouth. One hand rests on your hair, helping to guide you up and down his length.
Pulling off his cock, you look up at him through your lashes. You go back to pumping his length while licking the sensitive head.
"Fuck, baby you're so good at this now."
"Thanks," you whisper between licks.
Taking his full length into your mouth, you bob your head up and down. You focusing on his balls, while you take him as deep as he'll go." It's clear he's close to coming. He's starting to babble on and on. He's spewing out sweet words and incoherent sentences.
"Baby—" it's a broken moan.
You pull off him, a string of saliva is connecting your lips to his glistening cock. "Yes?"
"I'm going to cum."
"Okay."
You take him back into your mouth. You want him to finish in your mouth. You bob your head up and down, stroking the base of his length. His fingers stay tangled in your hair.
"Fuck, baby—"
His stomach muscles tighten, as he finds his release. He fills your mouth with his milky release. Without thinking you swallow every last drop.
Mingyu lays there looking dazed for a moment. You sit back on your knees looking down at him.
He pushes himself up. He reaches out, pulling you forward. You straddle his thighs. His hands roam your bare back.
"That was incredible." He says with his nose resting against yours.
Leaning in, you press your lips against his. "I think I've gotten pretty good at that."
He pulls away smiling, "that’s an understatement."
Mingyu takes his time getting both of you cleaned up, before joining you in bed. Laying there with him holding you close, you feel as if this is where you're supposed to be.
SIX: BRIGHT LIGHTS AND CITYSCAPES
It's a day where you and Mingyu decided you were going to spend the entire day together. Mingyu started the morning making you both breakfast. You're dressed in nothing but a pair of panties, and a baggy shirt. Mingyu looks mouth watering in just a tight pair of boxer briefs. His beautiful golden skin is on full display.
Sitting at the kitchen table your laptop is in front of you. You're reading some emails while he’s cooking.
He walks over, sitting a plate in front of you. Closing your laptop you put it away. You just want to focus on him, and not on anything related to your job or your mothers company.
He brings back a cup of coffee, before sitting down across from you.
"I made your latte just the way you like it." Mingyu is a dream, you often find yourself wondering why he likes you so much.
"Thank you."
You both start eating your breakfast and making small talk.
"What do you think about going to see Seungcheol and Dove this evening? They mentioned wanting to see the baby." About two weeks ago, Dove gave birth to a beautiful little girl.
"Sure I would love to see little Luna."
"Dove mentioned wanting to have pasta for dinner. Cheol also asked if we could bring a bottle of beer."
Since you've started seeing Mingyu again, you now see his friends as yours. You love getting to know them. You can't wait to fully get to know their daughter.
-
Arriving at Seungcheol, and Dove's home, you're greeted by Seungcheol, holding his beautiful baby girl. Mingyu immediately starts gushing over the baby. You can't help but smile.
Dove sees you and pulls you off to the kitchen. She looks incredible, you can't even tell she just had a baby. She's dressed in a sundress walking around the kitchen. She makes you a glass of lemonade, and sits down at the table across from you.
"How is motherhood?" You ask before taking a sip of the lemonade.
she lets out a little laugh, "It's been great. God I love Luna. I can't lie and say I'm not exhausted though. Neither me nor Cheol have properly slept since she was born.'
"You don't look like you're exhausted."
"Cheol let me take a two hour nap this morning. I have to say, he's being an angel. If Luna wakes up in the middle of the night, he always gets up." With everything you know about Seungcheol, and everything Mingyu has said, you aren't shocked he's a great dad.
The boys join you in the kitchen. Mingyu is holding Luna, looking absolutely adorable.
Your evening is spent getting to know the newest little edition to the friend group. Dove made everyone a delicious pesto pasta. Around nine they've managed to get Luna to fall asleep. You and Mingyu say your goodbyes before heading out.
You're both standing outside Seungcheol and Dove's house.
"Did you wanna go see the lights?" He leans against his car.
"The lights?"
"You can see the town night up on the hill." Your stomach knots. You know exactly which hill he's talking about. Lookout Ridge is the place all the college kids would go to hook up back in the day. You aren't sure if that's still the case, but it feels strange being invited to go up there.
"Sure."
Hopping into his car, he wastes no time lacing his fingers with yours. It's about a thirty minute drive up the dark hill. The whole way up you don't see any other cars. You're fully alone to take in the sight of your town and the stars above.
There's trees between the road and where you parked, giving you some privacy.
Getting out of the car you walk closer to the edge. Mingyu silently follows behind you. "I've never actually been here before."
"Really?" He's surprised, he thought everyone back in school came here.
"I didn't exactly have boys knocking on my door to hook up. I didn't really have a reason to come to a hook up spot."
"People don't just come up here to hook up." He leans against the hood of his car. "I used to come up here late at night the night before big games. I would stand here and just stare at all the lights. It helped calm me down."
Standing by the railing you look at all the lights. It feels odd being at a place you had always heard rumors about as a teen. Back then you dreamed of what it would be like to have a boy like you enough to bring you up here.
Mingyu walks up behind you, he wraps his arms around your soft stomach. He rests his chin on top of your head.
"The lights are beautiful."
"You know back in high school, I thought you were so cute, but you didn't seem like you were interested in me."
His statement catches you off guard. Back in school you didn't even think Mingyu knew your name. Plenty of other girls chased after him, why would he need to notice you?
"Mingyu, you were the golden boy in high school, and I was just a book worm. I was shy and barely had any friends other than Joshua and Jeonghan."
He squeezes you a little tighter. "When you walked into that coffee shop that summer… I knew I was screwed."
"Screwed?"
"I knew I would fall hard and fast for you."
His words knock the oxygen right of your lungs. You knew you fell for Mingyu that summer during college, but you had no clue he felt the same way. "I watched the way you smiled the moment you saw Joshua, and I hoped and prayed one day you would smile like that because of me."
Back in college you were so insecure, there was no way you could imagine Mingyu would feel that way. He treated you so well, and that whole summer felt as if there was a ticking time bomb hovering over your head.
"It was a great summer." You pull away from him.
He stares at you with a confused look playing across his face. "Yeah."
"I had a lot of firsts with you that summer." You can't bring yourself to admit it to him, but you fell so hard for him. Even after everything imploded, you went back to college with a slowly cracking heart. Days passed since you last saw him, and you knew deep down inside it was over. Even when you tried to somewhat make it work. You never labeled what you had. For the first six months you talked to Mingyu almost every day and then you just slowly drifted apart more and more each day.
He holds your face with both his hands. Without a second thought, he crashes his lips into yours. This kiss feels different, it feels frantic. Almost as if he's trying to prove something to you.
Pulling away you rest your nose against his. "We're technically at a hook up spot."
The corner of his mouth tugs up. You loop your finger into his belt loop and tug a little. He's a large man and a force to move, but you managed to catch him off guard some.
"What do you want, sweetie?"
"I've never had sex in the back seat of a car."
"It's not as fun as people think it is." He leans in close to you.
"Okay, we don't have to." You step back from him.
He watches you walk towards his car. He wishes he could explain what you do to him. He walks up behind you wrapping his arms around your stomach again. He pulls your soft body, flush against him.
"Is that what you want? Did you want me to fuck you in the back seat of my car?"
"I was hoping I could ride you."
"Be my guest." He whispers in your ear.
You pull him off to the car, giggling. Things happen quickly. Sitting on his lap in the back seat in his car you wonder how many times he’s gone up to this same spot before with other girls. Back in high school you heard so many rumors about this place. Everyone talks about this being the spot college kids would come to. You've removed your jeans, and you're left in just your thong and a bra. Mingyu is shirtless, with his pants pushed down to his knees.
His hard length sits between you standing tall. Your hand slowly strokes him. His hands are all over the place. He rotates between kissing your neck, and making out with you. He moans against the delicate skin of your neck, and you focus on playing with the rosy bulbous tip.
"Fuck," he moans. "Sweetie, I'm going to cum if you keep doing that."
You give him an innocent smile, fluttering your lashes at him.
"Condom?" He asks.
"I'm on birth control."
"You're okay with going raw?" He's trying his hardest to speak logically right now. That summer you spent together, he went through too many condoms to count. He never even thought going raw was an option.
"Yes."
Lifting up you pull your panties to the side. Mingyu holds his cock up, helping guide you down his length. Slowly you slide down, his cock giving yourself a moment to adjust to the sheer size of him.
"God you're still so tight." In all your years of having sex since that summer you shared together, no man had compared to your time you shared with Mingyu.
"You're fucking huge." You sigh. The smile that forms on his face couldn't make the strongest person weak.
Your body sings as you roll your hips forward. Your clit brushes the patch of pubic hair, making your body feel like a live wire. His hands grip your hips helping to move your body. Instead of bouncing up and down you've decided to keep up this rolling technique. Mingyu's lips are anywhere they can possibly reach. The car is filled with. echoing moans and the sounds of wet skin hitting wet skin.
"You feel so good." He moans. It's clear even after all these years Mingyu is still very verbal in bed.
Your fingers tangle in his dark locks, holding him close to you. Tilting your head back, your lips part as loud moans spill out.
He cock is curved just enough that he's brushing that special spot inside of you. His lips move down your neck leaving a wet trail in his wake. A few of these love bites are bound to leave a mark. He focuses on your breast. He gropes one while the other nipple is in his mouth. He nips and sucks on your pert nipples. Your eyes are practically rolled back in your head. Thank god you're far away from anyone who could hear your loud whimpers and moans.
He pulls away from your breast and looks at you with his big doe eyes. "Baby, can you move faster?" You would do anything he asks, if he'll look at you like that again.
Using your knees, you start bouncing on his length. His large hands grip your sides. He helps move you up and down his cock, at a steady pace. You both just keep moaning. The windows are covered with a film of condensation. The car is definitely rocking with both your movements. If someone drove up, they would definitely be able to tell what is unfolding between the two of you. Reaching between the two of you, Mingyu plays with your sensitive clit.
"Gyu—" your whole body feels tense.
"Fuck—" he groans rolling his head back.
Your high hits you like a tidal wave. A white hot wave washes over you. Your walls flutter like a heartbeat, squeezing his cock with each sloppy thrust. He holds on to you, lifting his hips. His own high is rapidly approaching.
The air is knocked out of his lungs. He paints your walls with his milky white release. You both stop moving. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him. His lips leave a trail of kisses against your neck.
You aren't quite sure you've ever had an orgasm that intense.
"God that was incredible." He pulls back from you slowly.
"That was better than I remember." Even after Mingyu, no man has ever made you cum that hard.
"No woman has ever compared to you." He starts leaving a trail of kisses across your jaw. Mingyu used to always talk after sex, but this feels different.
"I highly doubt that." You pull back a little.
“I never stopped thinking about that summer we spent together?” He leans in close with his nose brushing yours. "Do you still think about it too?"
“Mingyu we were twenty back then, we’re pushing thirty now. We shouldn’t be thinking about a summer that felt like a lifetime ago.” He pulls back and his face instantly falls.
“You act like that summer didn’t matter.” He’s hurt, that summer meant so much to him, and you’re just brushing it off.
“Mingyu—”
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this right now.” He shifts pulling away from you.
"Mingyu, of course I think about it. It's just hard to wrap my head around the fact that you still have feelings for me."
"Why is it so hard? We've been seeing each other for two months."
"Mingyu, it's been almost eight, almost nine years. You can't tell me no other woman has caught your eye?"
"I've dated around, but I haven't had anything super serious. No matter how hard I try I've always thought about our summer together. Why are you acting like it's crazy that I love you." Those last three words hit you like a ton of bricks. The air is suddenly knocked out of your lungs.
"Mingyu—"
The back seat of his car feels excruciatingly small. The look on Mingyu's face stings. You've never seen him look this upset before. "I should take you home." He doesn't even give you a chance to respond to those three words.
"Okay." You crawl off him.
Grabbing your clothes off the floorboard you try your hardest to get dressed quickly. Mingyu pulls up his pants and pulls his shirt on. He gets out of the car and stands there staring at the lights for a minute. Silently you crawl into the passenger seat.
Everything you've built has started crumbling down around you. You stare at the back of Mingyu for what feels like a lifetime. He turns around and you instantly notice his eyes are red.
Screaming silence fills the car as he drives you back home. He stops outside your building. He turns the car off and takes a deep breath before turning to face you.
"Mingyu—"
"Goodnight, sweetie." He kisses your cheek before pulling away. There's nothing more he says. He just looks forward down the street. Tears brim your eyes, you and your insecurities have become the downfall of you and him. He confessed he loves you, you didn't even say anything other than his name.
Unbuckling you silently get out of the car. Before closing the door you glance at Mingyu, to see tears sliding down his face. You want to apologize, you want to tell him you're scared, but you can't. Opening your mouth no words come out. The crushing feeling in your chest is a firm reminder that you broke both your hearts. He glances at you, brushing away his tears. He nods his head silently towards the door.
Shutting the door, you walk upstairs. You stop in front of your door. Those silent tears have turned into silent sobs. You don't bother reaching for your keys, you walk to the door next to yours. You knock on Joshua's door, hoping and praying he's home.
The door swings open and Joshua stands there looking surprised to see you.
"What's wrong?" He grabs you and pulls you into a hug.
"I think me and Mingyu are done. I messed up tonight." The flood gates have opened as you sob into Joshua's chest.
Joshua being the good best friend he is, just holds you while you cry. He slowly rubs your back, repeating over and over that you'll be fine.
After some time the tears have finally slowed and you're sitting on Joshua's couch. He reaches up, pushing the tears away from your cheek. "What happened?"
"Mingyu brought up that summer and asked if I thought about it, and I just brushed him off. He then told me it's not hard to believe he fell in love with me now, and I couldn't bring myself to say anything."
Joshua gives you a pained look. "I know you don't want to believe it, but he's always liked you. I think before you try to fix things with him, you need to figure out if you're capable of fully letting your walls down with him."
SEVEN: WHERE DO BROKEN HEARTS GO?
In the morning you wake up and stare at your phone. You don’t see your normal good morning text from Mingyu.
Pulling yourself out of bed you force yourself to shower, and to get ready. You need to get some work done, and try to function like a normal human today.
Sitting on your living room couch you try to figure out what you should even do. You want to reach out to Mingyu, but you're honestly scared.
There is a knock at your door. There is this part inside of you that hopes it's Mingyu. That you'll open the door and you'll be able to fix everything you messed up last night.
Opening the door, you can't be surprised when you see not only Joshua standing there but also Jeonghan. Since moving home you haven't been able to see him. He moved about an hour away from your town, and every time Joshua has gone to see him, you haven't been able to go. When you moved away, Jeonghan always came to see you a handful of times a year. He's always stayed a staple in your life.
Your eyes brim with tears. Without thinking you rush into Jeonghan's arms. He rubs your back, holding you close.
"Shua, said you needed both of us."
Pulling back you silently nod your head. "Did he tell you about Mingyu?"
"Yeah I know all about golden boy." He refers to him as the same nickname he used all those years ago.
"Are you able to take a few days off, maybe more?" Jeonghan asks.
"Yeah."
"Pack a bag, you and Joshua are going to stay at my place tonight."
You look over at Joshua and he gives you a gentle smile. "I'm already packed."
"Okay."
Shutting off your mind, you start packing an overnight bag. You pick up your phone and send your mom a message, telling her you're going away for two days.
Going to your conversation with Mingyu, you read over your last few messages you had shared.
Being brave you send him a message.
10:12am Sweetie: Good morning Gyu.
10:13am Mingyu: Morning.
That was short and to the point. That definitely stings. Grabbing your back you head out to the living area where the boys are waiting for you. You head downstairs to where Joshua's car is waiting. Getting into the back seat you pull out your phone knowing you need to text Mingyu again.
10:25am Sweetie: I wanted to let you know I'm going to Jeonghan's house for a few days.
If he doesn't respond to you, you won't blame him. You're shocked even answered you at all today.
Joshua and Jeonghan are chatting about something in the front seat. Closing your eyes you lean your head against the window.
For a chunk of the hour drive to Jeonghan's town you slept. He pulls into his driveway slowly. He lives in a house in the city by the ocean.
Slowly your eyes flutter open. Grabbing your phone you see a message from Mingyu.
11:20am Mingyu: okay be safe.
The back door opens, Joshua reaches in grabbing your dufflebag.
Heading inside you look around Jeonghan's home. He moved here about six months before you moved back home. He took a job in this town, when he got a big promotion. His place has a modern minimalist design. Joshua often comes out here a couple times a month.
Joshua takes your bag, to where you assume is the guest room. Jeonghan stays in the living room with you.
"How about I give you a tour?"
Jeonghan leads you around his two floor three bedroom place. His house is absolutely beautiful. He ends the tour in the guest room you'll be staying in.
"Hannie, thank you for bringing me here."
Jeonghan leans against the door frame. "I wish I was able to see you sooner. Work has been crazy and I was gone for a month for work."
"I know things have been crazy. I should have driven up here."
"I'm just glad I could be here for you now. Shua called me last night after you went home, and he told me you needed us."
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you look around the room that's decorated with a queen size bed, that sits under a window. There are two grey nightstands on both sides of the bed, and matching grey dresser, across from the bed.
"You can stay here as long as you want." Jeonghan says.
"I told Shua to order food from a really good Thai place."
-
Sitting at the kitchen table, you and the two boys are eating delicious take out and sipping on large glasses of wine. Joshua is too busy going on about some coworker Jeonghan has a crush on. This feels like old times. That summer you went home from school was the last time you and the boys were able to have a sleepover like this.
The boys are doing a decent job at distracting you, but you keep thinking back to Mingyu. You know he would fit in perfectly with you and he two boys.
Opening your phone you look to see if maybe, Mingyu sent you another message. Your chest burns, when you see he hasn't said anything else.
Joshua reaches over and squeezes your hand. Glancing up, you find both boys looking at you.
"Are you okay?" Joshua asks.
"Yea." You lie. No matter how much you wish you were okay, you aren't.
The night goes on and you often keep thinking about Mingyu, you want to know if he's thinking about you.
The next day Jeonghan takes you and Joshua around town. He shows you his favorite book store, and his favorite Japanese restaurant. He's doing a great job at keeping you distracted.
The following morning Joshua heads back home, saying he needs to do something at his coffee shop. You don't go home, you make the decision to stay with Jeonghan. You brought your laptop, so you're able to work from here.
Day four of staying with Jeonghan you can't stop thinking about Mingyu. You've been talking to him over the last few days, but things aren't the same. At this point you feel like you're just making small talk. You miss and you miss the relationship you had built.
It's just you and Jeonghan sitting in the kitchen. He just got home from work, and brought you food from a restaurant near his office that he loves. He's sipping on a cup of tea while you push around the food on your plate.
"So Kim Mingyu?" He's been watching you stare at a photo of you and Mingyu that you have saved on your phone.
You glance up. "Yea, Mingyu."
"So the golden boy never got over you?" Jeonghan asked before taking a sip of his tea.
"I didn't think that summer I shared with him mattered that much to him."
Jeonghan lets out a laugh. "You know after you went back to school, Mingyu never shut up about you?"
"How do you know?"
"Well I'm friends with Seungcheol, which made me friends with the golden boy."
"Oh."
"Mingyu talked about you all the time. He even brings you up anytime he sees me. A handful of times I've gotten drunk texts from him, asking about you."
You never knew that Mingyu asked about you over the years. You sure as hell didn't know that he sends drunk texts about you.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you acted like you wanted to forget the whole thing even happened." Jeonghan is one of your closest friends. Even though you haven't been able to see him in about four months, you know he's always there for you.
"I didn't think that summer meant anything."
He leans forward resting his elbows on the table. "I know that summer was a lifetime ago, but you guys have clearly started something pretty serious."
"He said he loves me."
"Do you love him?" His question leaves an ache in your chest. Tears brim your eyes thinking about Mingyu’s face, as he confessed his love.
"I think so."
"I don't think you need to be afraid of letting yourself love him." Jeonghan leans over, resting his hand on your cheek, he pushes away your tears. "Mingyu is a good guy."
Sniffling you nod your head.
"I think you and Mingyu should talk about this sooner rather than later."
He's right, you should have a long conversation with Mingyu soon. "I know."
-
Mingyu has been absolutely miserable since he dropped you off after that night on the hill. He's thrown himself into work, an attempt to numb the pain. It's been five days and he knows you're staying at Jeonghan's house. He ran into Joshua, and before he could even ask about you Joshua told him you're still gone.
He offered to join Wonwoo and Vernon at the bar, but he couldn't bring himself to go out and act like everything is fine. He's settled on ordering his favorite take out and laying around moping.
He sees a message from you. You've been occasionally texting him, and honestly seeing your message remind him of the pain and sadness.
6:01pm Sweetie: I've been thinking about you a lot. I miss you.
Before he can even respond he sees a text from Jeonghan.
From Jeonghan 6:02pm: Hey, Gyu. I know you didn't expect to hear from me. But (Y/N) is here and to be honest she's a mess.
From Mingyu to Jeonghan 6:04pm: I miss her.
From Jeonghan 6:05pm: You need to give her another chance.
From Mingyu to Jeonghan 6:07pm: Hannie, she doesn't like me, as much I as I like her.
From Jeonghan 6:07pm: Dude, just drive to my place and talk to her. She likes you dude, like a lot. She's just scared.
From Mingyu to Jeonghan 6:08pm: when?
From Jeonghan 6:10pm: drive up tonight. You can stay here, and if things go well, you can bring her home.
From Mingyu to Jeonghan 6:10pm: Okay.
He opens your texts and stares at it for a moment. No matter how hurt he is, he can't deny how hard he's fallen in love with you.
6:15pm Mingyu: I miss you too.
Closing his phone, he tosses it on the couch and heads off to his room to pack a backpack. It's eight at night when he's finally on the road to see you.
The hour drive feels like a lifetime. He's been to Jeonghan's house a few times with Seungcheol, so he knew exactly how to get here.
Parking his car at the curb he looks up at the house. He wonders if he should have told you he was coming. No girl has ever made him feel like you do. Technically you didn't break up, but this feels like a break up. Turning his car off, he takes a deep breath.
Reaching into the passenger seat, he grabs his backpack. Getting out of the car, he heads up the stone path. He knocks on the door and waits.
The door swings open and there you stand looking surprised to see him.
"Mingyu?"
"Hi, sweetie." It's taking everything in him, not to wrap his arms around you and kiss you.
"What are you doing here?"
He shrugs his shoulders. "I needed to see you."
"Oh."
Reaching out, he rests his hand on your cheek. Closing your eyes, you lean into his hand. He slowly drags his thumb across your delicate skin.
"Mingyu, I'm sorry." You whisper.
"I shouldn't have left you that night. We should have tried to figure this out." He leans in closer.
"I need you to know, I do think about that summer. I haven't stopped thinking about you. I fell in love with you that summer, and I fell in love with you again now." The weight has been lifted off your chest. It might have been hard to admit, but you are so in love with Mingyu.
His eyes go wide, and a smile tugs at his lips. Leaning in he wastes no time pressing his lips to yours for a desperate kiss. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hold him close. One of his hands stays on your cheek, while the other rests on your hip. This kiss feels like nothing you've ever experienced before. Your lips move together, as he slides his tongue against yours. Pulling back a little, he rest his nose against yours.
"I love you so much." He says, smiling.
"Lovebirds, please come inside, my neighbors don't need to see you making out." Jeonghan says, leaning against the couch.
Pulling back Mingyu laces his fingers with yours. You lead him off to the room you're staying in. He drops off his backpack, before you join Jeonghan downstairs. You spend the evening hanging out with him before you and Mingyu find yourselves, naked and tangled up in the sheets.
Laying on the bed with your legs spread, Mingyu is hovering over you. His fingers are laced with yours holding your hands next to your head. He's set a slow and delicious pace, rolling his hips into yours.
He keeps whispering those three sweet words to you over and over.
No man has ever made you feel the way he does, and you won't ever love a man like you love him.
hello loves, i spent my weekend making my theme look like myspace, gardening (please send well wishes to my arms), and trying to tell my youngest who’s on day 6 of chicken pox that he ✨still✨ cannot go to the playground. and now it’s 10pm, i have a bowl strawberries and i’m going to write
btw i want to say that the entire tumblr community banding together is what got these changes reversed so i hope u all realise the power of a reblog and start reblogging posts instead of just liking them this is the reblog website so hit that button right now
Hello! I hope you are doing well. I really hate I have to do this, but I figure asking is the best option.
I've been reblogging some of your work with a review (specifically I've done Progress Report: missing you to death), I plan to do more, but I wanted to check in and make sure it's fine. However, if a reblog isn't something you'd like, I'll find a different way to review.
I'm sorry I have to ask, but I figure its just a better way.
hi josie 💕 i really hope you’re well too, this is such a thoughtful ask!
ofc it’s fine! carry on as normal!
this platform was built off reblogs and we should continue to do that, though i guess we should now encourage others to only reblog from the OP rather than somewhere in the chain from here on out. how frustrating for everyone involved 😭
Tumblr is rolling out a new reblog/notes system that completely disregards creators. In their new system, they're taking a twitter-style approach where reblogs will have their own notes that DO NOT contribute to the original post's notes.
Because of this, creators will no longer be able to see an accurate display of likes/reblogs/etc. This is completely altering the way feedback and responses to works are going to be received on this website.
If you come across a fan work that you enjoy, please take the extra step to go to OPs original post, and leave your comment/like/reblog there. Or go one step further and send an ask to OP directly to tell them what you liked!
I really hope Tumblr staff reverses course and reverts to the original reblog system for the sake of the large base of creators who use this site to share their works, but until then, please be considerate and make sure the creators here see/feel the love.
in lieu of tumblr's new reblog feature. let's continue to support creators on this platform and keep this place as safe as possible.
please consider giving feedback here.
credit not needed. recoloring welcomed. feel free to edit as you need!
*credits to a dear friend of mine for this idea.
20th march, mass Tumblr log off in protest of the reblog update
Remember when we threatened a mass log off to get rid of shapes.inc and then all the shapes.inc ads mysteriously vanished? yeah, let's do that again. On the 20th of march 2026, we tumblr users will log off in protest of the split notes on reblogs. Spread the word!! Reblog!! Tag your moots!!
Side note: tag yapping doesn't seem to count as an addition to the OG post, you can use that to carry out conversations.
Don't forget to log off of everything you're on, so computers and apps. And a word of advice: do it. This could really make a difference and lead to Tumblr putting the posts back the way they were.
