👑pairings: (implied) popular boy theo! x reader
💘genre: very sweet fluff hehe, high school au (again)
👑prompt: the prince of the school wants the first and last dance to be with you.
💘c/w: nothing in particular, brief mentions of the piwon boys, theo is a GENTLEMAN and a yearner... 😘
👑word count: 1.9k
💘a/n: i am back for now! have this little drabble for the theo girlies >< (this was actually based on a dream i had about theo HAHAH enjoy!<3) also I LOVE DANCING QUEEN SM GO SUPPORT P1H ON EX!!!
Dancing with my beauty, my princess, you're like a movie.
You thought, a sense of wonder bubbling within you as you joined the throng of excited students making their way toward the grand entrance of the ballroom. As you walked, laughter and chatter filled the air, creating a vibrant energy that mixed with the soft strains of classical music that spilled from inside.
Upon entering the ballroom, you were immediately struck by its sheer magnificence. The vast space unfolded before you like a scene from a fairy tale, with high ceilings stretching far above, adorned with intricate interior and lavish chandeliers. Each chandelier glittered like a constellation of stars, casting shimmering patterns of light that danced across the polished marble floor.
Rows of elegantly dressed tables adorned with fresh flowers and fine linens lined the perimeter, hinting at the exquisite feast that awaited. The walls, draped in rich, flowing fabrics, reflected soft hues of white and gold, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. Everywhere you looked, there were touches of sophistication, from the delicate place settings to the twinkling fairy lights woven into the decor. It was as if you had stepped into a grand royal ball from an era long past.
As the evening wore on, you found yourself nestled in a quiet corner, drinking a glass of juice, fully embracing your introverted nature. The vibrant atmosphere of the ballroom was alive with laughter and music, but you preferred to observe from the sidelines. Your eyes roamed across the expansive room, captivated by the array of breathtaking outfits that adorned the guests. Silks and sequins shimmered under the soft glow of the chandeliers, while elegantly tailored suits exuded sophistication. You couldn't help but marvel at the intricate details of the dresses- the cascading ruffles, delicate lace, and sparkling accessories…until a cool voice interrupted your inner thoughts.
“Excuse me.”
Turning around, your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Standing before you was none other than who everyone called “the prince” of the school-
Theo. Choi Taeyang.
He was looking at you with his famous blank stare, as if he were waiting for you to do something. His alluring gaze, perfectly styled blonde hair, and tailored suit made him even more attractive than you had imagined.
“Damn, he looks so much prettier up close.”
You couldn’t help but think, before quickly shaking that thought away.
“Wait, why is he just… staring at me like that?”
You internally panicked. You did NOT want to lose aura and embarrass yourself in front of someone like Taeyang.
“-You’re blocking the juice.”
He finally said smoothly, as if he could read your thoughts. He was so nonchalant and cool about it.
“...Ah. My bad, bro.”
The intense staring lingered between you two, an unspoken tension hanging in the air. After what felt like an eternity, you finally mustered an awkward smile, a nervous twitch of your lips, and stepped aside, all the while cursing at yourself internally for that cringey ass line you had blurted out and your slow reaction to the moment. Seriously, “my bad BRO”?
A few minutes drifted by, and both of you stood at the drinks station, feeling the heaviness of the awkward silence hanging between you. Neither of you had made a move to break the tension yet. Instead, you found yourself stealing occasional side-eyes at Taeyang, trying to gauge his mood (and admire his face card) without making direct eye contact. Just as the discomfort began to feel unbearable, he spoke up, his voice cutting through the classical melodies, while his eyes remained fixed on the students dancing on the dance floor before him.
“You came alone?”
The suddenness of his question caught you off guard, making you jump slightly. Your mind began to wander as you tried to process it, thoughts swirling in a mix of curiosity and surprise. You'd always known him to be a quiet guy, someone who preferred to keep to himself, especially when he was surrounded by unfamiliar faces. It struck you as odd that he would suddenly break his silence like that.
“Uh, yeah. You too?”
You cringed yet again. What a stupid question. How could THE Choi Taeyang be alone at prom? Surely he had a date with all that popularity. However, to your surprise…
“Yeah. Unless you count the boys. Jiung made me come.”
He replied, his fingers tousling through his hair as he met your gaze with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. In that fleeting moment, it felt as if all your thoughts had short-circuited, leaving you momentarily breathless and disoriented.
“...”
“...”
“Do you want to dance?”
Taeyang asked casually, as he took a step closer to you.
“-Huh? Me?”
You blinked in surprise and repeated your question, your head turning to scan the room as you searched for anyone else he might be addressing. The idea that he could genuinely be considering spending time with… a completely random person like you felt strange. Your heart raced with a mix of disbelief and curiosity. Surely, he wasn't thinking about doing something so out of the ordinary, right?
“Who else am I talking to, dumbass?”
Taeyang let out a scoff, a sound that mixed disbelief with amusement, as a sly smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. It was a rare moment for him, one that he couldn’t help but find intriguing.
Before you could utter another word, Taeyang's warm hand grasped yours firmly, and he effortlessly led you through the thrumming crowd toward the ballroom floor. Once you reached the centre, he gently released your hand, leaving you feeling a bit flustered as you shyly brushed the back of your neck, your cheeks slightly flushed.
“I’ll ask again. Properly.”
He continued speaking, his voice steady, before he bowed slightly and extended his right hand towards you. His head tilted upward, allowing you to meet his gaze through the curtain of his bangs. His eyes were filled with a deep, soulful yearning, as if they were pleading for something just out of reach.
“May I have this dance?”
He really looked like a prince at that moment.
Beyond that, you could feel the weight of his sincerity, breaking through the nonchalant facade he tried to maintain. With a mix of trepidation and intrigue, you reached out and rested your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Taeyang reacted instantly, wrapping his other arm securely around your waist and drawing you closer to his chest, where you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The sudden proximity took you by surprise, making you flinch slightly, and you instinctively placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding yourself in the moment.
“Eyes on me. Don’t worry about anything else tonight.”
As the soft notes of the music filled the air, he elegantly led you in a waltz, gracefully spinning you around the dance floor. His gaze remained locked on yours, a warm spark of connection shining in his eyes. Despite your awkward missteps and the occasional scuff of his polished leather shoes, he paid no mind to the accidents. All his attention was devoted to you, and you only.
“Yeah, every time you get close,”
“The whole room spins, lose control,”
“Forever young, a wild soul, I won’t let go.”
As you glanced around, the curious eyes of onlookers met yours, their expressions a blend of intrigue and excitement, silently whispering questions like, “Who is that person with Taeyang?”
“Just keep on dancing, queen, you’re so sweet,”
“You put a spell on me, drunk on you,”
“And now I’m free-falling,”
“Take me home and show me what it means.”
In that enchanting moment, enveloped by a cheerful chorus of laughter and the soothing strains of melodic tunes, you felt as if you had wandered into a fairy tale. The atmosphere was thick with an air of enchantment, as if the very walls whispered secrets of romance. With each elegant twirl, your heart soared, and you felt like Cinderella, gracefully gliding across the dance floor with her Prince Charming, except that you wished that the clock would not strike midnight.
“To be my dancing queen, you’re so sweet,”
“I’m living in your dream, drunk in love,”
“And now I’m free-falling, sing my song,”
“It’s just you and me.”
As the music enveloped you, it felt like the world outside dissolved, where only you and Taeyang mattered. His touch was gentle yet firm, guiding you effortlessly through each step, as if he were rehearsing a dance meant only for the two of you. He truly was a gentleman in every sense. Your heart fluttered each time you noticed how closely he held you, and deep down, a part of you longed for this enchanting moment to stretch into eternity.
And as the final notes of the song began to fade, he suddenly dipped you low, the air thick with anticipation. He leaned in, his face just inches from yours, his breath a whisper of warmth against your skin. A smirk danced across his lips as he caught the surprise in your eyes, and he leaned closer still, whispering something just for you, his voice low and inviting, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Thank you for tonight.”
After that fleeting moment, he positioned you upright, his movements careful and deliberate. With a soft touch, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, mixed with lingering and yearning. As he turned to leave, adjusting his blazer with a subtle confidence, you found yourself entranced by the sight of his back retreating from you. A sense of emptiness pooled in your chest, an unfamiliar ache that grew more pronounced in his absence. Your thoughts drifted back to the memory of how he held you closely in his arms, the way his eyes searched yours with an intensity that made you feel special, leaving you longing for more of that connection.
It all felt so unreal. And honestly, you never wanted it to end.
As you opened your locker door to get your books, your eyes were immediately drawn to a plain white envelope resting on the top shelf. The bold, black ink scrawled across the front captured your attention:
“To Theo-hyung’s dancing queen <3”
~Intak
Of course, the cheeky puppy was up to something again.
You tore open the seal and peered inside, revealing a polaroid photograph of the night before. It was during that moment when Taeyang had just dipped you low, his playful smirk hinting at mischief and affection. The candid moment was alive with emotion, radiating an inviting warmth and a sense of nostalgia in the air. There was a delicate undercurrent of romance that added a special glow to the memory, making your cheeks warm as you recalled his face. Who took it? Definitely not Taeyang. Jongseob maybe? You knew he loved to take photos of every little thing. One of the boys definitely took it to tease Taeyang later on.
You let out a light scoff, your mind racing through the possibilities (of the boys being sneaky), but then your gaze drifted back to Taeyang’s photo. You caught yourself intently studying his princely features- high cheekbones, a sharp nose bridge, a perfectly sculpted jawline, and expressive dark eyes that seemed to hold a universe of secrets. What had begun as a fleeting glance turned into a longer, unintentional stare, as you momentarily lost yourself in the allure of his presence.
SYNOPSIS. On the night of your eighteenth birthday, you and Wonwoo made a pact to lose your virginities together. Ten years later you're co-parenting your unexpected child while figuring out where you stand with each other.
PARING. Wonwoo x F!Reader
GENRE | TAGS. Smau, series, non idol!au, best friends (idiots) to lovers, unexpected pregnancy, slow burn, angst, pinning, fluff, humor/comedy.
WARNINGS. Suggestive themes, random face claim, pregnancy, teenage pregnancy, swearing, a small spelling mistake, but nothing that would lead to misunderstanding. MDNI!
STATUS. On-going.
SERIES MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | NEXT →
# NAVIGATION | MAIN MASTERLIST | PERMANENT TAGLIST
Every ask & comment gives me life 💗 If you’re enjoying it, don’t forget to reblog—helps so much and gets the fic out there!!
a new city had you reorganising your life, but you eventually got your life sorted. a guy you met by coincidence filled up the gaps of your mornings before work, and it sparked something in you. whether this was another new beginning? you weren't exactly sure.
genre: angst, strangers to lovers, non idol au
includes: angst with a happy ending (don't worry i gotchu), comedy, profanity, hurt, self reproach and castigation, HEAVILY NEGATIVE thoughts, nightmares, trauma mention?, spiralling, grief, loss of loved one, fluff (if you squint) ( ◠‿◠ )
word count: 6.6k
now playing: what kind of future - woozi, about you - the 1975, movies - conan gray, coincidence (jeonghan solo) - seventeen, pleasexanny - chase atlantic, if you leave me - seventeen, destiny (woozi solo) - seventeen, bittersweet - wonwoo x mingyu.
a/n: i'm back from the dead and i finally finished this after... half a year??? longest i've ever written so far and i experimented a lot here (emphasis on A LOT) please bear with me if u spot any cranky parts... there's a lot of easter eggs in this one do lmk if u spot them. this fic kinda sparked one day after watching an about you vernon edit HAHAHA please give it a read and give it a lot of love!! thank you
It’s been a few weeks since you started working at your new job all the way in Seoul, and things have been going according to plan.
Settle down in your new apartment, check.
Get along with your coworkers, check.
Live healthily every day. Check?
Everything went well, perfect to preference. There was, however, one anomaly you would have never expected to have occurred.
You love your job. Positioned so timely in the morning such that you have enough time to take a walk in the morning while the sun slowly climbs over the horizon.
A fresh breather and a nice warm cup of coffee.
Gosh, you loved your coffee, it’s something you basically couldn't live without. Maybe it was the Seoul air. Maybe it was just this shop. Coffee from this shop just hits the spot, that daily craving instantly fixed, like it was the cure to your everyday fatigue.
The air in the morning would typically be a little too chilly to your liking. You'd usually take a stroll in a comfortable hoodie, maybe the one at the top of the stack of clothes in your closet, and the usual sweatpants that you wear for everything. Be it workout, sleep, or simply casual wear.
On this day, you had your hands in your pockets as you walked to the store, hearing the sounds of birds chirping and soaring up above in the skies above you. It was comforting, really. The atmosphere was just splendid, your footsteps were almost rhythmic, and you just needed to take a deep breath in this moment.
"Oh, crap — I'm sorry", a man said, panicked. He had bumped into you from behind while you were in your own headspace.
Your momentum had been broken, causing you to almost stumble forward into a faceplant. You caught yourself though, no thanks to this clumsy person.
He instinctively gripped your arms, steadying you, ensuring you regained your balance.
"You good? Really sorry man, I really gotta go." he blurted out, before running away into the distance, turning the corner out of your sight.
That was odd. And kind of rude. You stared into the space up ahead, dumbfounded, and stopped in your tracks. You had to take a second to process what had just happened.
That was a random guy, that just bumped into you, that just ran away in a flash. For a second, it seemed like he was trying to tell you to forget this little incident ever happened.
“Weird guy.” you muttered to yourself. That man was about a head taller than you, and honestly… kind of charming. For just a moment, you could almost feel the slight warmth he left on your arms. He didn't look Korean, and his manners weren't so bad. Maybe he had a reason for running off so abruptly, and that might have enticed you, just a little. Regardless, you went about your day and brushed the matter off as him being a stranger you'd probably never cross paths with again.
But maybe, just maybe, you hoped you'd see him again.
You stepped into the coffee shop, once again taking in a deep breath of the freshly brewed coffee beans. Exactly just what you looked forward to every time. Slowly opening your eyes, you noticed the same man in the queue right in front of you.
How anticlimactic.
You briefly scanned his figure. He had dark brown waves in his hair, and he wore a black Adidas tracksuit. Thinking about it, that outfit couldn't never be your cup of tea, but hey, whatever floats his boat, right?
You tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, taking one side of his wired earpieces off to look at you. His eyes slightly widened, quickly pulling off the other earpiece to interact with you properly.
"Ah, it's you. My bad about earlier..."
His head was slightly tilted to the side, looking at you as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He seemed to have recognised you, and he definitely did not take pride in bumping into you. His body actions didn’t say much, but his eyes told of his unsettlement. The way his eyes darted around, landing everywhere but you just so he’d avoid your gaze, made it seem like he was a little kid, shyly hiding behind a wall to hide away from facing the music of some horrifying consequence.
“It's alright, I suppose.” you muttered, in an attempt to soothe the tension between you two, like a tight rope ready to snap within the next few seconds.
There was an odd silence that filled the air, accompanied by the busy chatter of the coffee shop. Your mind, on the other hand, was not so quiet, for you did have something to ask him.
“Say, why were you in such a rush anyway?”
“Bro. Have you not seen how long the queues get at this time??” he says as he eyes the air behind you.
You followed his gaze and turned around, to see about 8 more people lined up right after you, prompting you to swiftly turn back around and face him.
“Yikes, definitely forgot about that.” your face scrunched up at your sudden realisation.
“Well-”
“I hope you know you spoilt my morning peace.” you spouted.
“Ah… right.”
The queue continued moving forward and the awkwardness continued to expand exponentially. The guy ahead of you — which you realised you hadn't gotten the name of — broke the silence by offering to pay for whichever drink you decided to have that morning. You agreed, choosing your usual. A nice warm vanilla latte.
After all, how often is it that you get your favourite drink on the house?
You stood aside, watching the seemingly nice man pay for both his and your orders. You felt strangely warm inside, on a cold day in a new country, yet someone foreign to you unexpectedly kicking off the first entry on your diary of occurrences.
You felt yourself drooling the slightest bit, looking forward to savouring the foam top of your latte.
Soon enough, your order was ready. One drink came steaming on the top in a white to-go paper cup, and the other came in a clear plastic cup filled with what seemed to be an iced americano. The man grabbed both beverages and made his way over to you, handing you the obviously warmer drink.
“Thanks.” you shot him a smile.
“No worries.” he said, turning around to walk away while taking a sip out from the black plastic straw as his gaze left you.
“Wait,” you called out.
He turned back to face you, one hand holding his earpiece already halfway to his ear to continue listening to his jam.
“I haven't gotten your name.”
“Vernon. My friends call me Vernon.”
“Ah, I see, okay.”
He shot you a look, eyes expectantly waiting for your answer.
“Right, um, yeah. My name is Y/N.”
He gave a small smile, seemingly satisfied with learning your name after you asked for his too.
“See you around then.”
An interaction like this didn't seem so awkward for once, and something so normal as meeting someone new, felt awfully deep for the first time. Or maybe it was just how… nonchalant he perceived to be. Nevertheless, you did hope to see him around soon. You thought he was quite an interesting dude.
A new day arrived as you opened your eyes, drunk on sleep. The smell of the morning air whiffing into your room through your open window reminded you of the incoming responsibilities in the later part of day, which you formed some sort of dread to, like any other normal person.
Reluctantly, you got up with a sigh, slapping both sides of your face to further wake yourself up more.
Upon reaching the cafe, the same one you visit every day, you were pleasantly greeted with a short queue of only two people ahead of you. Upon this sight, the memory of the previous day — the queue suddenly getting long after you joined it — poked into your head, cueing you to step into the queue like the flash.
You ordered your regular, a simple hot vanilla latte in a to-go cup. The cashier gave you a quick smile, which you took as a gesture of just being nice. Her eyes did shift to the cafe space behind you, and you figured it was the people behind you that were shuffling into the shop, meaning the impending waves of orders that she had to take after yours. You shrugged it off, thinking it was just normal cashier behaviour.
When you got your order, you took a small sip, one that was quite satisfactory. Just the way you liked it. Creamy, accompanied with a tinge of sweetness.
In the following second, you spotted Vernon sitting by the window alone with one cup of ice americano and another cup with just ice, obviously drunk from and finished, condensation just rolling down the surface while scrolling through his phone absentmindedly. Again, with him wearing the same Adidas tracksuit, you were starting to wonder if he had proper hygiene or if he had like, thirteen duplicates in his wardrobe. You did however remember him having a fresh woody scent when he bumped into you the first time, so you mentally concluded the case to be the latter.
Funny enough, you only noticed him after you had gotten your drink, and inferring from the empty cup, he was definitely here before you even stepped into the shop.
You were then hit with the sudden realisation of why the cashier smiled at you. Vernon's here, and she was the same worker that served you two the day before as well. Your mouth opened to form an ‘o’ shape, puckering your lips as a reaction to your own realisation.
Anyway, seeing him sit alone like that clicked something in you to walk over and sit with him, as if drawn in by an invisible force of the beginning of a niche storyline.
“Hey.”
You were met with silence from the figure in front of you. You blinked once. And twice. “Heyyyyy.”.
Again. Met with silence. The woman sitting at the table next to him had already turned her gaze towards this scene you found yourself in the middle of.
“Vernon, right?” you swear you felt your ears heat up with the awkwardness, with the likeliness that this man might not be who you thought it was at all.
Only at the mention of his name was then when he lifted his head to look at you. You scanned his face clearer, confirming your suspicions of the identity of the man.
“Oh... hey, Y/N.” you heaved a sigh of relief and plopped down in the seat in front of him, the same way you plopped your drink down on the table. You set off a series of questions about what just happened in the past thirty seconds.
“Do you only answer people when your name is involved???” you shot, eyes widening in annoyance.
“What–”
“Or did you forget me already???”
“Well–”“That's so embarrassing, dude.” you lifted your hand with an accusatory sass, which then gripped your hair. Your hands then travelled down to cover your face, compassing the whole ‘dig a hole to hide in’ saying.
“Y/N-”
“Like dude, it took me three tries to wake you up from whatever daydream you were in literally-”
“Y/N.”
You opened up your hand curtains, looking at him like a sheep that got stripped entirely of its wool.
“Looks like we aren’t so different afterall.” he teased, chuckling. You frowned and pouted, realising you unintentionally mirrored his behaviour that commenced this whole frenzy in the first place.
“We literally just met yesterday, would I have recognised you instantly?” he reasoned with this chill tone, seemingly having no effect from your prior chaos.
It took a few moments before you cooled down and soon enough, you two warmed up to each other. The both of you started to crack jokes and share random occurrences in your lives that happened lately.
“And this bird, had the freaking AUDACITY to POOP on my head– LIKE, I JUST WASHED IT BEFORE I WENT OUT????”
You threw your arms up in the air, dramatically reenacting your reaction then while cursing the bird out loud even when you did back then, just verbally to Vernon this time.
He shared his own side of experiences, each one having your laugh build up like a ticking time bomb.
“So, get this. My friend chased this other friend with a guitar, threatening to attack him for some stupid reason,” he said, holding back his laughter. “And then, when that friend got cornered, the guitar LITERALLY went airborne, he squatted down SO dramatically like it was the end of his life–”
“Pfft.”
“HAHAHAHAHA”
You let the balloon of laughter burst, and your manic laughter set off Vernon's laughter too like a chain reaction. Both of you were left in a fit of laughter, like two crazed hyenas, attracting the attention of the woman in the next table again.
But that was the least of your concerns. You were having the time of your life with this guy, cracking jokes after. Time passed and unfortunately you had to leave for work. You said your goodbyes to Vernon, but that wasn't the end of it.
This new routine started to happen daily, every weekday at least. He was titled ‘daily morning coffee buddy’ in your books, and he lived up to the title for the next few weeks, and then the weekend giving you more time to bond, given that you sometimes only saw him one out of the two days.
At some point, he started to order your drink before you even arrived. You'd find your latte steaming, the cup sat across his own beverage, like how you sat across him every day. It had started to become a habit for him. And so did it for you. You'd always step into the shop, expectantly seeing him sat at the same table every time, your drink always steaming. When you felt like you needed a change of a drink, and you told him the day before, the next you’d find that drink already sat across his never-changing iced americano. His fashion sense seemingly started getting better too. It wasn't just tracksuits anymore, and it looked like he was putting in more effort in his outfit choices too.
You’d always feel this flutter in your heart when you saw him there.
The following weeks however, he didn’t show up daily. There were some inconsistencies but you were still seeing him in the cafe often. It was mainly one to two day intervals though.
You understood, he has a life too, he can’t be there every morning to be your playdate. Right. You were easily convinced by your own reasoning, so you accepted he wouldn't be there every single day.
One of the days, just like any other day after his absence streak, it was like normal, you going through the mental archives of experiences, trying to remember which ones you hadn't told Vernon yet, recounting them in a quick second before sharing it to him. You caught sight of his face flashing with worry, but you didn't pay much mind to it.
Everyone has their personal struggles after all.
You two were cracking around as usual when your eyes caught sight of some twinkling in front of you. Then, you noticed.
His face was lit up, his eyes squinted from smiling, and his smile. His smile was so… cute. It was the way his lips curved up, with his teeth showing, it made his mouth form a heart shape.
“Woah.” you muttered under your breath.
This was supposed to be a normal and frequent sight to you, something that never catches your attention. So why now? But you were mesmerised, to say the least.
The image of Vernon in this moment captured through your two bare eyeballs was somehow instantly framed up in your head, like a museum piece displayed in its full glory. You were viewing this picture through your eyes in person, but everything felt unreal.
Not sure if it meant you felt something or what, or well, you didn't know.
You swore everything played in slow motion through your peripheral vision. The people passing by outside walked slower, and the chatter in the cafe vaguely got tuned out. Your mouth went dry, the only signs you knew you were still alive was how your heart was palpitating to the point you could hear it, and the way your breathing became more and more erratic.
Vernon's hand came up to wave in your face.
“Hello? Earth to Y/N?”
You blinked rapidly, snapping back to reality.
“Oh, right yeah. Um… yeah.” you blurted out.
“Caught in a trance or what? You good??" Vernon questioned, face painted with concern, head tilting to his left by a little.
“Oh um, yeah I’m uh… fine yeah.” you proceeded to scold yourself internally, letting out a variety of cuss words in a continuous train of thought.
Out of habit, you looked at your phone to check the time.
“Shoot, look at the time! I almost forgot I had work, I needa go.”
Vernon almost looked weirded out, or taken by surprise at least. The smirk he wore on his face previously had dropped somewhere on the ground. He tried to say something though, before getting cut off by you.
“Yeah um, catch you soon, yeah?”
You stood up, chair screeching and grabbed your things in a rush, partly because you’re running off schedule and partly to escape the awkwardness you caused, again, before you can repeat it again.
Before leaving, however, Vernon suddenly grabbed your wrist.
“Y/N.”
You turned back to look at him, still sat in place, looking up to meet your gaze, his vulnerability almost showing.
“I’m…” he hesitated.
He looked like he wanted to say something, but it seemed like he had a change of mind.
“When will I see you again?”
You froze, eyes flickering around, consciously noting your palms getting sweaty. You looked at his face, pretty much unreadable, but it was definitely a softer expression. His eyes were locked on you, his lips parted, anticipating your reply. The grip he had on your wrist wasn't too tight, but it conveyed the message that he indulged your presence. With every passing moment that you delayed a reply, you could see Vernon's facade slowly cracking.
“Soon? As always? What are you on?” you smiled awkwardly, hoping he’d let go of your hand before you had to shake him off. You were very much confused.“Alright,” he said, looking defeated. His grip on your wrist loosened, to which you took the chance to snatch your hand away and usher words of farewell, quickly. You stepped out of the cafe, hit by the warm sunlight and bitten by the cold breeze. It somehow felt… colder.
Vernon's POV
I gripped onto her hand. “Y/N.”
She turned to look at me, eyes shuttering in confusion. This is my chance, right?
“I'm…” I hesitated. I needed to say it.
Keep me here a little longer, please?
“When will I see you again?”
What? What was that? That was not what I wanted to say. She tilted her head, innocently telling me that we’d meet soon, probably like any other day. But I failed to open my mouth to say the words.
“Alright.”
My hand fell onto the table with a soft thud as I let go of her, watching her leave swiftly, away.
“Soon… huh?”
I watched the hand that once contained the warmth of her wrist rest in my other hand, trembling in the slightest bit.
“Shit.” I drawled, as I raised my hands that now gripped my hair. I don't know what has gotten into me, but she looked… different. Her face glowed, as she beamed with the cutest smile I've ever seen. She seemed happier today too.
The flashbacks of her rambles played in my head. Each meeting we had flashed in my mind, each one playing like a cd slotted into a cd player, just like a movie.
“You must be a fucking idiot.” I spiraled into a series of self-criticism. “You couldn’t even tell her that you’re leaving. You’re so fucking stupid, you literally had the chance.” Neverending thoughts passed, the grip of my hair growing tighter with the tension of regret that started to bloom inside.
“I don’t… I don’t even know when I’m coming back…”
I stood up with the same screech of the chair to rush out to find her. I looked left. I looked right. I turned around in circles like I was a little kid again.
She wasn't there.
“Fuck.” I didn't get to tell her. I didn't get to say. The words that now went unheard.
“I like you, Y/N.”
Y/N's pov
y/n’s pov
The next day, the air felt colder. You supposed it was the pre-monsoon season breeze, and you resorted to looking forward to the warmth of the cafe, from your latte, the buzzing crowd, the heater, and maybe Vernon?
Stepping in with the bell of the door ringing as you opened it, you scanned the cafe surroundings. There was no Vernon in sight. It’s probably one of his absent streaks again. You shrugged it off, thinking you’d see him soon enough anyway, ordering your usual, and leaving the cafe without a second thought.
The next day, you didn’t see him again.
Same reasoning, probably some personal matters and plus, it was only the second day of his absence streak.
By the third day? You were sitting at the same seat, waiting for Vernon to appear. Every time the doorbell rang, your head turned to look at each individual that came in. But none of them was Vernon.
Vernon usually comes in after the second day of his absence though…
You reasoned with yourself once again, maybe he’s just busy, a third day means nothing. Or so you thought.
By the fourth day, things started to feel off. You sat at the seat, and each ring of the door started to cause you headaches. With the frequency of your head pivoting up and down, you settled on staring at the door, shifting in and out of a daze. This kept up, until you lost track of time and went far off schedule, which resulted in you being late for work.
On the fifth day, you were starting to lose hope.
The sixth? You felt like it was because you couldn't stay when he gripped your wrist. You also realised he never ever arrived after you in the morning.
The seventh? The eighth? All the same.
The ninth, you sat in the cafe, thinking maybe he’d changed his schedule to afternoon coffee runs? The vanilla latte you held in your hands didn't feel right. There was no warmth, no company. Just vast emptiness in the cup, and all that remained was just the echo of your laughs. Sitting in the same seat for almost the whole day, waiting for Vernon to show up. It really felt like a lost cause.
You couldn’t believe yourself.
You start liking someone, and then they just leave you like that? He wasn’t not showing up anymore. You tried so hard not to lose hope, but at this rate? Hope was barely even there anymore. Hope was non-existent.
Did he even know you liked him anyway? What was the point? All this wasted time? For what? Aimlessly waiting around and finding reasons to stay?
Pathetic.
You felt like this meant nothing. You got your hopes up, just to be let down like this? You took the last sip of your latte — which had already gone cold, staining your tongue with a sickening sweetness — before leaving the cafe, not even looking back once.
The next few days, you stopped going to the cafe. It felt like a waste of your time and your effort. You laid in bed, awfully hesitant to even get up, wondering why none of you ever thought to exchange contacts. Were you just that complacent? Taking his presence for granted? As if you’d continue seeing him every day?
The cafe visits didn't feel right, or the same anymore. It wasn't the latte, it wasn’t the people, it wasn’t even Vernon. It felt like it was probably your fault. For even believing someone like Vernon would keep happily being your ‘daily morning coffee buddy’.
How foolish you must be.
As if nothing happened, I told myself that it was all just a dream. When I closed my eyes and opened them again, I hoped it would be a morning where I would wake up feeling relieved.
If I could go back in time, warm you rather than roughness, would you send me a call?
We’re not done yet, I'm holding on to the end of a small thread. You left me struggling but I miss you even though I don't want to see you.
Even though I hate you, I miss you.
I don't know myself either.
– Woozi, 2018
You found yourself shattered in pieces, thinking of the him that left without a single goodbye. Each piece of yourself held onto memories of you and him in that very cafe, and they haunted you.
You woke up in cold sweat every night. These moments once brought you joy, but now they’re nothing but nightmares.
You would always see the back of his head, never turning to look at your face. Sometimes, you would see his back facing towards you as he walked away from you, and if you so as even tried running after him, he would just fade away. Like a shadow, like a figure that you could see but never touch.
You weren't one to run from responsibilities, so you continued showing up to work though your attendance and work became sloppy. Even your colleagues got worried, and with each time you did show up to work, you looked… awful, to say the least. They picked up on your pale appearance, and dark eye bags. It was difficult for you. Horrible. Utterly terrible. But you were still trying to find ways to forgive yourself, maybe Vernon was too.
Your coworkers never asked you what happened, but they provided constant support. Encouragement, and care that made you feel okay. Like it’s just one of those days where you’re sitting in a field of grass and flowers, swarmed with butterflies and surrounded by comfortable warmth.
“Y/N, come eat lunch with us!”
“Y/N, ____’s wife made you a bento!”
“Y/N, let’s go out for a drink~”
“Y/N!”
They’d always bring you around, making sure you always had company, ensuring you were eating well, giving you gifts and food and drinks, essentially encouraging you out of your slump. But the way they called your name, it just wasn’t the same as he did.
Slowly but surely, you found yourself gaining the energy to get back on your two feet. Like a snail, you wiggled out of your hiding shell, finding the comfort to continue on your journey. You weren't alone, and you knew that. They made sure you knew.
Three months later, you let go of the hurt you were consumed by, and things took a turn for the better. Despite not being able to find the same love for vanilla latte again, but the bitter memories that once floated on the surface, was replaced with airy foam that assured you that not everything negative that occurs is your fault, and you should find room for forgiveness. The thousands of bubbles that made up the foam represented the thousands of problems that could revolve around someone's life, and one sip would make all simultaneously pop.
It honestly took a lot of courage for you to start returning to the cafe. The cashier had changed by then, but you didn't think about having your regular order that day. You wanted to try something new. maybe something familiar?
“One iced americano, to go, please.” you said, with a hint of uncertainty. The new cashier flawlessly took your order with no hesitation, and you had your drink in no time.
Before you left the cafe, however. you heard a familiar voice.
“Y/N?”
You froze in your steps. Maybe you heard things wrong. You were hoping it wasn't who you thought it was. but you knew it was. You were afraid that if you confirmed it, it’d disappear again. Just like every other time.
The voice called out again. It was more firm this time.
“Y/N.”
You took a big gulp of saliva. Nervous, you shifted your line of vision towards the direction the voice came from.
It was him. Vernon.
Your drink almost slipped from your hand but you gripped onto it.
How did he even miraculously appear right when you did?
Regardless, without showing any sign of fear on your face, you fully turned your head and body. You stared at him, unsure whether to face him again or walk away. If you walked towards him, what if he fades away again? That can’t physically happen right? The line between your dreams and reality was a blur. But something made you realise it really was real.
You weren't seeing the back of his head anymore. It was his face. The front of it. The entirety of him.
Your eyes scanned each detail of him. his slightly darker undereyes, a very much different haircut; a buzzcut. He was in a sweatshirt, from what you could see. Sleeves rolled up, and his thumbs were fiddling with each other. You almost didn't recognise him.
The cup that sat across him, it wasn’t a plastic cup of iced coffee. From the steam and slightly ruined foam top, it was evident to you. A vanilla latte.
That.
That was an unusual change. It was awfully coincidental that you also ordered his usual. Maybe you both took a leaf out of each other's books that day? But really, there wasn't much to it, you wanted to see what was the taste of his coffee on your own tongue.
How did he enjoy iced americano? Was it like how you used to enjoy your vanilla latte? Did it provide the same warm feeling you felt every time you held the cup, the mellowness that settled on your tongue, and the way it made the emptiness disappear?
Your body grew slightly weaker with every second that passed by, every second that his gaze lingered on you. But you had to face it. Face him. Confirm he’s really here again. Not just some fucked up dream or another illusion to kick you into a ditch.
You took a step. And another. You reached the table he sat at, setting your drink right opposite him.
He doesn’t say a word.
"What are you doing here?" you wanted to know. You wanted to know so bad. Why today? Why only now? Months of no contact and no-shows and suddenly today’s the day he appears.
He hesitated.
"I don't know. I was maybe hoping you would be here today, and well," he said with a collected composure, with the same nonchalance he did the first time the two of you met.
“Seems like the stars have granted me my wish.”
Judging by the way his coffee was still somewhat steaming, his timing really wasn't that bad after all.
“I can't believe you can even joke right now.” you retorted. It’s true, how could he? He full-on disappeared for months, you thought he should basically be titled “trauma man” now.
“I know.”
“You… What's with the latte? A new change?”
“Do you think I have forgotten?” he chuckled.
“What-”
“I'm sorry, Y/N.”
“Vernon-”
“I know sorry doesn't fix things, but I want you to know I mean it.”
“How-”
“Y/N, I need you to let me explain.”
You kept getting cut off, and you weren’t exactly okay with it. Despite that, you stopped talking just to hear what he had to say just so it didn't become a cycle of interruption and accusations.
“First off, I apologize for the person I am. What kind of person forms something and leaves right after? I’m sorry to have never tried to stay in contact, that I never told you before I left, all because I was a coward.” He was still fidgeting with his hands, now looking down, avoiding any eye contact with you.
“Secondly,” he gulped. “I apologise for hurting you.”
Your eyes widened, looking at his face. You didn't think he’d apologise for that. You didn't even know you needed an apology for that. You deserved it, yes, but you were oblivious to the need for it. You felt a rip in your heart, like something reopened up right at the seams.
You gripped onto his hands. To stop him from all the nervous fiddling. You were looking intently into his eyes when he raised his head in shock from the sudden contact. His gaze finally met yours and well, they locked in place.
He continued his speech. “I have hurt you, and that is mine to blame.”
With each sentence he spoke, his hands gripped yours tighter. Not too tight, but tight enough to let you know he was sincere about it. A faint warmth settled inside you, as each reasoning had him inching closer to your forgiveness.
Unknowingly, a tear left your eye. You didn't feel it, but he saw it. He raised one hand to your face, delicately wiping off the tear with the back of his finger. Through blurry eyes, you could see the remorse looking at you through the window of his eyes. The guilty pout that protruded from his face had you succumb to the betrayal of the calm composure you were pretending to uphold. The continuous tears that flowed from your eyes had him panic as he let go of your hands to rummage through his pockets for a tissue packet, taking one sheet to gently dab your salty tears away. You wouldn’t want salty coffee after all, right?
You were at a loss, was your heart breaking or was it warm? You worked so hard to let go and this happens so unexpectedly. Either way, his remorse turned into concern, with this being the very first time your raw emotions scattered in front of him. It seemed like he was picking up the broken pieces one by one, attempting to fix something that wasn't even entirely his fault.
You already did forgive him in your head, but this time, he was seeking forgiveness in your heart.
“Lastly, my explanation.” he said, voice steady as his hands held yours.
Your eyes remained glossy as you stared at him through what you felt like was the window of Rapunzel's tower. Helpless, but still in control of your own life. When both of you looked into each other’s eyes, it felt like your souls touched, fingers interlacing.
“The reason why I disappeared. My best friend fell critically ill and well,” he hesitated again, eyes flashing with hurt, gaze averting. “He didn't have much time to live.”
You were at a loss for words, as the words you previously said echoed through your mind again.
Everyone has their personal struggles after all.
He continued, thumb caressing your hand. "He's been with me since birth, and well, he only had so little time left to live. I spent those months with him to cherish those last few moments. Otherwise," he paused.
He looked up at you again, "I wouldn't know how to face myself anymore.”
“I grieved, but I also knew I couldn't leave you for long. I don't know what you’ve been through, but I’d hate to let it continue.” he started choking on his words, but carried on so as to let you know the full truth.
“That day, the last day we met. I wanted to tell you. But I was a coward. I couldn't get the right words out. I left you hanging. I chased after you out of the cafe, but you were gone. I… I didn't know what to do.”
Both of you were trembling in each other's hands by then. He not only was in pain, but he was still thinking of you. You weren't the only one suffering.
You raised a hand to his cheek and stroked your thumb against his face. You acknowledged his pain and as did he. He was vulnerable, as much as you were. Like two peas in a pod. At that point, both of you probably had tears in your coffees. A little gross, but at that moment, who cares?
You held his face with both hands, sniffling and smiling through your tears.
“Vernon,"
"I forgive you.”
Time skip, a month later.
You and Vernon were walking in a park, autumn leaves drifting through the breezy air with a hint of cinnamon whiffing through it, which probably was coming from your pumpkin spice latte.
“Hey, Hansol. Why’d you tell me your name was Vernon?”
“Vernon is my name, but Hansol is what special people in my life call me. My mom, my dad, and my best friend.”
You paused in your tracks and turned to him. You looked up at him. Blinked once, and twice. Many times.
“Me???” you pointed to yourself. “Special person????”
He didn't say anything, only smiling at you. Instead, he got down on one knee, he popped out what seemed to be a promise ring.
You stood rooted in shock, frozen, and eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.
Jaw.
Dropped.
“Y/N, will you let me be your boyfriend?”
His ears went pinkish, and his hands were trembling while holding the ring. He was looking at you sheepishly, like the way he did when you two first met, afraid of the unlikely rejection.
“Hansol…” you faked disappointment on your voice, tone wanting to juke him into believing the negative.
For a moment, you saw his face turn white.
“Yes! Yes, yes, and yes a million times, YES!”
His eyes lit up as he sprung up from his kneeling position from excitement.
He was, very evidently, enthusiastic. He looked like he was ready to lift you up and spin you around, but with a hot drink in your hand, that would very much be a horrible mistake.
His face was still frozen in that same heart shaped smile as he slipped the ring onto your finger. Your heart felt warm, and you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
He pulled you into a hug, holding you in his arms, so gentle his touch was like the wisp of a feather. Into your ear, he whispered, “Thank you, Y/N.”
“Hansol, maybe we really do have one of those super niche stories.” you giggled.
You snuggled up in his warm embrace, feeling so refreshed and confident, as you opened up a new page in your book, ready to start afresh with Vernon, a new chapter together.
“what once floated on the surface of their coffee were jokes, what remained were bittersweet moments. what really mattered though, was about you.”
And there was something ‘bout you that now I can't remember, it’s that same damn thing that made my heart surrender, and I miss you on a train, I miss you in the mornin’ I, never know what to think about; I think about you.
i have 3 drafts that i wanna throw away bc i cannot continue them also bc my brain is occupied with more assignments shoved in my face from all these stupid modules and yet i want to write another. why does this happen 😭
🌑pairings: demon! yeosang x angel! reader
☁️genre: heavy on the angst, a tad bit of fluff, forbidden love
🌑prompt: when the exiled returns and harbours unrequited feelings for the divine.
☁️c/w: I REPEAT NO HAPPY ENDING! i apologise deeply in advance!🧎♀️
🌑word count: 2.4k
☁️a/n: good day!(yes i am back from the grave) and inspired by halazia yeo! i'm also sorry that this took so long! (victim of procrastination and school)ㅠㅠ
The heavens were beautiful, but they were nothing but a gilded cage of false hopes and strict rules.
You had known nothing outside the glimmering confines of the palace’s marble walls, nothing beyond the suffocating expectations that weighed upon your shoulders. It felt like invisible chains roughly binding you to the persona of perfection. You had to be graceful, pure, and untainted by the temptations of sin. It was a mundane routine- waking up at dawn, reciting your prayers, and constantly smiling, even when your heart ached with the piercing loneliness that came with your relentless duties.
Kang Yeosang. An infamous name tainted in the books, his exile was a clear warning to many about what happened to those who chose to be led astray. However, he decided to come back, standing in front of the court that had sentenced him centuries ago. Why was he back? No one knew his intentions.
He was everything you were not. Everything you wished you were- wild, untamed, and most importantly, incredibly free.
That night, as you snuck out to the courtyard to gaze at the starry night, a gentle breeze blew, causing you to notice something billowing onto the ground.
What was that?
You thought to yourself, as you crouched down to inspect it.
Laying there was a singular black feather.
“Strange..”
You murmured as you picked it up. Where could it have come from? Then you looked up ahead, and saw him. Clad in black, with dark hair and captivating eyes.
Yeosang leaned against the balcony, and tilted his head to the side to get a better look at you. As soon as he locked eyes with you, he let out a soft, amused chuckle as he put his hands behind his back and bowed politely.
“Ah.”
He mused.
“Good…evening, your highness.”
“...Uh?”
You mumbled, a little too loudly. Your body stiffened up significantly, as you took a few steps back. You had heard countless stories about Yeosang’s crimes, how he did the unspeakable to earn his banishment. After knowing how everyone in the heavens painted him to be, truthfully, you were afraid of him. Yes, you desired freedom, but you certainly did not want to end up like him.
Yeosang was oblivious to your unease, though. Instead, he leans over just a little bit, to make it easier for you to talk to him. He gave you another polite smile, his demeanour suspiciously void of any ill intention. It had been a long time since he had talked to anyone, and it was certainly a nice change of pace for him.
“Your highness.”
Yeosang hums, his voice the calm, velvety tone it had always been.
“I trust that I haven’t disturbed you?”
He waited silently for your answer.
“No- Not at all.”
You hurriedly answered, giving him an awkward smile. You knew, you should not be caught doing this. However, there was a nagging feeling inside you that…maybe, he was not as evil as the rest made him out to be.
“Good."
He chuckled, as he gazed around the exterior of the court, taking in the ethereal appearance of the place.
“I see that this place remained the same, huh.”
He looked wistful. You could not help but ask the gnawing question at the back of your mind.
“What happened back then?”
You immediately shut up and clamped a hand over your mouth, realising how stupid and insensitive that question may have sounded. ‘Great, now you have done it. He is going to kill me’, you thought.
Instead of getting riled up like you anticipated Yeosang to be, he simply paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, and chuckled. If the princess asked him a question, he shall answer.
“I admit I was young and foolish, and I craved adventure. I didn’t like being bound to rules I disagreed with. I wanted to be free, to live without restrictions. I made many mistakes, but I don’t like to dwell on the past too much.”
Yeosang’s gaze wandered for a moment, before returning to you.
“You know…you and I, we’re not so different after all. You’re defying the rules by talking to me, but we’re doing it anyway because it’s something we want to do.”
Your eyes widened. He has a point. You had free will to choose to run away or ignore him, yet you chose to stay.
“...I guess so.”
You replied sheepishly, one hand rubbing the back of your neck. He was respectful, suspiciously a little too polite for someone like him. You wondered if Yeosang was simply putting up an act or if he was actually reformed. He then took a few steps back, still keeping that calm smile on his face.
“I think I should get going. We don’t want anyone to catch us here, right?... My senses tell me, however, that you are longing for something. I see it in your eyes.”
And he was absolutely right, but acknowledging the truth would mean revealing your flaws, shattering the image of a perfect princess that you had always been moulded to embody. The weight of that realisation settled heavily in your chest as you remained silent, your gaze fixed on him, absorbing every detail of his expression, every weight of his words.
However, right before he left-
“Wait!”
You mustered up your courage to call out to him. You were unsure why you did that. It felt like…a natural reaction.
“...Will I see you again?”
“You wish to see me again?”
Yeosang raised an eyebrow in surprise, before his gaze went to the night sky again. He sure did not expect that one coming. It was nice to be considered again instead of a monster, it left a warm feeling in his chest.
“I’m sure we’ll meet again, your highness. Until then, farewell.”
He says lowly, before giving you a little pleasant smirk and disappearing into the night. You watched as he left, and your gaze fell upon the black feather in your hands from just now.
For the first time, you felt understood. You thought that you and Yeosang had a lot in common, despite meeting him for just a few minutes. Was he really a bad person? But his actions said otherwise. He was charming and elegant. Everything a lady could ask for.
And you could get lost in those alluring eyes forever.
The heavens had strict rules about demons and angels. There was no in-between, no chance of redemption, and no possibility of love. Which was a carnal sin.
Yet, you constantly met him in secret.
High above the world, amidst the soft, billowing clouds that seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow, Yeosang stayed with you in the secluded corners of the gardens, where the delicate beams of moonlight barely penetrated the lush greenery. Under the canopy of twinkling stars, he unveiled a treasure trove of experiences you had never imagined. His tales painted vivid pictures of the realm below, brimming with laughter that flowed naturally, never forced or awkward. With each story, he imparted the wisdom of savouring life’s simple pleasures, encouraging you to let go of the heavy weight of the crown and embrace a world full of wonder and tranquillity.
Love at first sight.
You never truly believed in that. The idea always seemed laughable to you- how could anyone fall for someone after just a fleeting glance? Unexpectedly, it happened to you. You were caught off guard by a single look that sent a rush of warmth through your chest, shattering your scepticism in an instant. What was more absurd, though?
Well, it was the fact that Yeosang was obviously a demon.
You found yourself lost in thought, questioning whether fate was genuinely aligning in your favour or if you were simply losing your mind over him. The uncertainty lingered in the air, leaving you to think between destiny and infatuation. At the same time, you could not get him out of your brain, constantly replaying the moments that you have shared like a broken record.
Over and over again.
How you wanted to see him every night, how you wished to listen to him call you ‘princess’ one more time. It was painful longing. Every time the thought of the impossible crossed your mind, it pierced your heart with a sharpness that felt like a thousand tiny daggers, leaving you breathless and overwhelmed with despair.
No. Yeosang was a demon. You could not be with him.
“My princess.”
He murmured one night, knuckles gently brushing over yours, a touch so feather-light and gentle.
However, it all ended as fast as it started. You two had been seen eventually, due to carelessness.
In a fleeting moment of vulnerability, you found your fingers entwined with his, a silent vow shared beneath the shimmering stars. It felt as if the universe itself had paused to witness your connection, yet in that instant of intimacy, the heavens shifted ominously, as though they were ready to turn against the two of you.
Yeosang fought. Oh, how fiercely he struggled against his restraints; his strength was enough to make even the seraphim falter. However, there were too many, and you were forcibly torn from his grasp as the sentence was delivered. There were too many, and you were torn from his grasp as the sentence was given.
“Kill him-”
“-NO!”
They were really going to take Yeosang's life. Panic surged through you as you screamed, pleading desperately for someone, anyone, to listen. Tears streamed down your face, a mix of fear and heartache washing over you. The thought of freedom and a normal life flashed in your mind, tantalising yet bittersweet, if only Yeosang were out of the picture. That was your father's desire, and it seemed to align with the will of the heavens, did it not? However, inside your heart, a storm raged. Why did it all feel so dreadfully unfair? Why was this pain consuming you? What had Yeosang done to deserve this fate? He had never forced you to love him; he had never trapped you in his affections. You were the one who had chosen to fall in love with him, willingly and wholeheartedly. So, why? Why was he being condemned for the simple act of loving and being loved in return?
“PLEASE! HE DID NOTHING WRONG-”
You continued to plead with your father as you met Yeosang’s bittersweet gaze.
“It’s okay.”
He says, trying his best to reassure you, but hurt was consuming you with every tick of the clock.
“It’s okay.”
He says once more. His voice remains velvety and gentle as he smiles.
“Princess, it was worth it. Every second.”
Don’t say that…
Summoning every ounce of strength within you, you finally broke free from the crowd that held you back. Shoving past startled onlookers, you sprinted toward Yeosang, urgency coursing through your veins. As you reached him, your eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and the soft breeze played with your hair, making it dance around your face. Without a moment's hesitation, you grabbed another rope, and tied yourself next to him.
“Princess, what are you-”
“-Father, please let me go.”
A whirlwind of emotions surged through your father's mind, each more turbulent than the last. It felt as though he was witnessing you slip away, losing pieces of your purity, your innocence, and your grace with every passing moment. The desire to hold you close overwhelmed him; he yearned to wrap his arms around you tightly, to bring you home, and to shield you from the malevolent figure before him. Memories rushed back like a tidal wave, reminding him of the precious moments spent watching you grow up- the laughter of a little girl playing in the sun, the countless bedtime stories, and the milestones that marked your journey. Despite the love that filled his heart, he found himself paralysed. He turned away, unable to confront the painful truth of his daughter declaring her love for a demon. The sight was too much for him to bear.
"I'm sorry.”
He murmured, his voice thick with sorrow and regret. If your father would not allow it, then so be it.
Together in death is better than being alive and separated.
The flickering light of the torch was brought out, casting dancing shadows across the courtyard. You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, feeling the air fill your lungs. Yeosang turned his gaze towards you, searching your face for understanding, before shifting his eyes to your father, a weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.
"I never meant any harm."
He said slowly, his voice heavy with sorrow. It was a heartfelt confession, the last coherent whisper that those gathered in the courtyard would hear from him.
Yeosang took your hands in his, his touch soft and careful, as if he were afraid you might slip away. His fingers brushed your cheeks tenderly, lingering for a moment as he marvelled at your beauty. Even in these last moments. You radiated a warmth that captivated him. A smile spread across his face, not fueled by defiance or amusement, but weighed down by a profound sorrow that tugged at his heart.
“Yeosang?”
You asked, leaning against his shoulder with a weak smile.
It felt hot. Suffocating even, as the sound of flames crackling filled the air. Despite the burning heat, he still listened to you, captivating eyes locked onto yours. He hums in response.
“If we meet again…”
You took a shuddering breath and coughed, beads of sweat rolling down your neck as the smell of burning wood filled your nostrils.
“...In another life…Let’s spend eternity together.”
Yeosang let out a soft laugh at the thought, a sound light yet dismissing the heavy burden behind it. As he nodded, the reality of the situation pressed down on him. With each passing second, his strength waned, leaving him feeling as if he were drifting in a haze. His vision blurred at the edges, and the world spun around him, the roar of the flames echoing his own fatigue. The fire rose higher, its flickering light casting an ominous glow, making him feel more weary and powerless with every moment. Gathering the last remnants of his energy, he wrapped you in a warm embrace, as if to shield you from the chaos surrounding you both.
“I would burn a thousand times over, if it meant that I could love you again.”
Yeosang had much more to say, but his final words to you were…
“Let’s go, my princess.”
The flames swallowed you both before you could reply.
"just like a supernova, bright and pretty. just like you."
genre: romance, fluff, established relationship
au: non-idol
includes: fluff (i have no way to measure how much it is), nerding out about celestial bodies, CUDDLYYY, its dk that says a lot, reader has trouble sleeping
word count: 1.1k
a/n: im back?? i think?? i stared out my window and started to think about stargazing and space stuff... i became an insomniac so this is kinda based off my actual situation aha... argh this is so cuddly i thought dk would suit it hehe pls enjoy
your eyes opened with a comforting arm resting over your torso. it took a moment before the blurriness from your eyes faded away. you turned your head to look at the clock behind you.
02:35.
you turned your head back to see your boyfriend, seokmin, sleeping soundly. for a moment, he looked like a baby golden retriever taking a nap. you smiled at the sight of how he was wrapped around you, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. you tried to go back to sleep, closing your eyes to drift back to slumber.
you opened your eyes again, and turned your head again, looking at the clock for the time again.
02:41.
how have you woken up twice already? you tried again.
02:43.
and again.
02:44.
you sighed. sleep— was definitely not coming to you tonight. instead, it was starting to get on your nerves. you stared at the ceiling, blinking a few times to make sure you weren’t just in a crazy time loop of a dream.
it wasn’t.
you sighed again and looked at your boyfriend that was now sleeping in a fetal position, still faced towards you. now he really looks like a baby. that somehow got you to soften up.
you turned your body towards the window, looking up towards the night sky. you thought, maybe you should take a breather outside, since you really couldn't sleep.
you gently lifted yourself off the bed, carefully making sure you didn't disturb seokmin's beauty sleep. you made sure he was warmly wrapped in the blanket that was covering the both of you moments ago. you slowly slid open the glass door to the balcony and sat on the floor, looking up into the sky.
the dark sky with hints of dark blue and grey, lit up with tiny specks of light. stars. a few planets scattered here and there. in your head, you were thinking which of the few planets it could be. venus? saturn? jupiter? the moon was almost completely dark too, with just a little sliver of light at the bottom of the circle.
"a crescent, huh?" you whispered.
you consciously stared at the brightest star, thinking of how much longer until it stopped shining like that. maybe it was at its peak? had it just started living? or perhaps it was about to die out?
it wasn't long until you heard a voice behind you.
"baby?"
you snapped out of your daze and flicked your head to the direction of the voice. your eyes landed on a sleepy seokmin sat up on the bed, fingers rubbing his tired eyes. you could almost see question marks float around him as he looked at you, seemingly growing in concern.
"i'm sorry baby, did i wake you up?" you softly questioned.
you were sure he was sound asleep before you got up.
"no, i just woke up. can't sleep?" he tilted his head in the slightest bit in reaction to you, being displaced from the bed.
"yeah. i'm just looking at stars, seok."
he got off the bed, pulling the blanket along to cover both of you as he sat down next to you.
"ooh! okay tell me what you've seen so far, i wanna know what you think about today's painting!"
his eyes lit up, watching you in anticipation for your debrief from your observations so far. you softly giggled to yourself, thinking about all the times he called the night sky a new painting.
"if you think about it, every time you look at the sky, its a new arrangement of the stars and planets, and the moon is never the same either! wouldn't that be a new sight every time?"
you noticed the clock from the corner of your eye. 02:47.
"okay seok, buckle up."
you start by pointing out the shapes the stars made when aligned together, moving your finger in the air, as if drawing on the night sky. the way his eyes followed your hand, occasionally shifting to look at your expression as you passionately explained the thoughts in your head, it said a lot about how he feels about you every day.
all of a sudden, you became aware of the warmth of him against your side, and you wrapped up in the warm blanket, and you noticed your heart suddenly beating a little faster. you also caught a glimpse of him being lost in your eyes.
you smiled and pulled on his cheek lovingly.
"ow!! what was that for!" he yelped.
you giggled and said, "you were looking at me so lovingly, were you even listening?"
“i was! to be fair, i do love you a lot!” he retorted, his lips pouting in accusation.
truth be told, you couldn't care less if he was listening or not, you just wanted to tease him, and you were grateful enough for his company. it also helped that he was the living embodiment of the emoji ":(" in that moment, and that made him seem even cuter at that point.
you talked more, as he made sure to pay close attention to your words, and as the night sky continued moving and getting brighter, you noticed his face getting sleepier by the minute, head resting on your shoulder.
"baby?" you whispered.
"mm?"
"have you ever wondered what happens to stars after they die?" you questioned.
that seemed to have woken him up a little.
"well, i think they explode and become something pretty, if i remember correctly..." he sat up and scratched his head, evidently trying to recall what he learnt from his physics classes when he was younger.
"supernovas? i think that's what they're called." he looked at you.
you paid attention to the small lesson he was giving, except with a tinge of warmth and a hint of a sleepy spell.
"i heard they're really bright!! and pretty!! and when i mean bright, i mean really, really, bright. like, brighter than that one!" he exclaimed, pointing at that bright star you were staring at earlier on.
"that's really nice, seok." you warmly replied, lying your head on his lap now.
"just like you."
"hm?" you widened your eyes, clearly taken aback by his sudden statement. that definitely took you by surprise.
"i'm saying, i think you're brighter than that star over there. just like a supernova, bright and pretty. just like you." he says, pinching your nose playfully.
time slowed down. his words felt like they were lined with so much meaning behind them, and the way his lingering stare looked into your soul, you thought that it was exactly what it felt like.
after a while, you found yourself wrapped up in his arms again in bed, and at least this time, you felt a lot warmer inside, definitely sleepier, and most definitely more loved than any person in the world.
a couple months back you started kissing jihoon on the cheek a lot.
like, not on the cheek directly, but under his eye on the cheek. it's been random, usually when you've “felt like it”, and it's caused many flushed cheeks and red ears on jihoon. he always returned the kiss though, a small chaste peck back.
and recently, you've noticed that he has a new mole. it started small, like they usually do, and slowly got bigger and… it's where you usually kissed him on the cheek. huh.
“ji, do you believe in soulmates?” you asked one night, randomly, while laying on the couch in his studio.
he didn't react to your question— from what you could see at least— but after a beat or two he turned around and took his headphones off.
“what do you mean by soulmates— like someone you're destined to be with?” he stands, stretching, before sitting next to your waist.
“like, i dunno… yeah, someone you're made for i guess?” you look up at him. “something like that i think?”
“not soulmates, in that sense no… but i think you can make a soulmate. like us— we had to work for our relationship,” he smiles at you, caressing your face. “why?”
“...y’know the mole theory?”
he shakes his head. “explain?”
“like… you get moles where your past lover kissed you most, and i realized you got a new mole where i keep kissing you… do you think we were past lovers?”
he smiles, eyes turning to crescents as he laughs. he leans into you, kissing you under the eye. “yes, i do think so. i bet we’ll be future lovers too.”
you grin at him, giggling, and wrap your arms around his neck to bring him back down to your face. you kiss him on his new mole. “i bet we will be too.”
a bit of progress has been made... but it's a long way from done and somehow my brain juices only start working at like 4 in the morning
sit tight and forget about me until i drop the fic (yes im aware its been super long but if this course doesnt stop shoving module assignment deadlines in my face i am quite literally going to be quitting life)
it is unfortunately pre-submission week (aka next week's submission week) which means i will not be as online nor working on the IF as much 🫡 may i pull through because the 6 modules are lowkey kicking my ass.
bro im gonna shoot myself cus its been a whole month since i posted and im DYING to get back to writing the draft too but all these modules be hitting with them deadlines so much i want myself dead first
synopsis ➳ ❝ he is your sworn enemy. hell, you are literally at war with him right now. yet, you find yourself desiring him in a way that could be catastrophic. the only silver lining is that he might be feeling the same way towards you. or maybe it is all just a game.❞
pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x lawyer!jeonghan
genre ➳ enemies to lovers, legal drama, smut
wc ➳ 9.1k
warnings ➳ this will have inaccurate descriptions of court and legal systems cuz i ain't no lawyer, lots of banter and sexual tension, cursing, mentions of child abuse, daddy issues, very brief hints of childhood trauma, corruption ig, kissing, dirty talking, fingering, one pussy slap, biting and teasing, Jeonghan himself is the biggest warning.
“You Honour, he fucking sucks ass!”
The courtroom plunges into a suffocating void of silence, as if the very air has been swallowed by a black hole, leaving only the echo of your childish outburst. Thick, heavy silence that drags on endlessly, echoing your very professional sentence through the air in an endless spiral.
You remain frozen in your place, your eyes locked with your opponent who stands before you with his arms crossed and a cocky smile that keeps growing by the second. He looks like a cat that ate the canary, and the urge to punch his stupid face grows within you violently.
“Counselor,” the judge clears her throat. You slowly turn your head to face her, mortification written all over your face. You find her glaring at you. “This is a courtroom, in case you forgot. Not a middle school playground.”
You hear Jeonghan snicker beside you and you force yourself to take a deep breath as you straighten the lapels of your suit and clear your throat. “My apologies, your Honour. It will not happen again.”
The challenging look Jeonghan throws at you foreshadows otherwise, and mentally, you imagine punching his face repeatedly and kicking him in the balls. With that calming image in your mind, you look at Mina, your plaintiff, reminding yourself why you are here.
You have a job to do.
You cannot lose to Yoon Jeonghan. Not again.
“Defense Counsel, would you like to add anything more?”
Jeonghan’s challenging gaze lingers on you for a second longer before he addresses the judge. “Yes, Your Honour. As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” he makes a point by looking at you. “My client also loves his child, but let’s not kid ourselves— he can provide the future this child deserves.” He pauses to look directly into your eyes, that cold, ruthless gaze reappearing in his eyes, one that you hate with a passion beyond language. “My opponent may argue emotional bonds, but the reality is this: money makes the world go round. And a child with access to wealth will have the resources to thrive, no matter what. That’s the kind of future my client can provide.”
You grip the table behind you to distract yourself from the rage coursing through your veins.
The silence weighs down like a lead blanket after his words, and in the suffocating stillness, you hear Mina sigh from behind you, and a piece of your heart breaks.
Suddenly, you have the urge to cry. This feels familiar, like that case two years ago.
You were representing a key witness, and Jeonghan was defending a wealthy, high-profile businessman accused of murder. His flawless legal strategy dismantled the evidence you worked so hard to find, and it was an easy victory for him. It made you second-guess everything you thought you knew about the law. You had never lost a case before, and that singular case shattered your sense of invincibility.
Your boss called you a sore loser after you quit your job as a prosecutor, but there was no other option for you. Prosecuting left a bitter taste in your mouth. So you packed everything up and took a big step, opening your own law firm and starting your journey as a family lawyer.
So that you would never be in a situation like that.
Yet here you are again, up against the same man who made you question everything.
The judge’s voice brings you back to the present moment. “Plaintiff’s Counsel, would you like to add anything?”
You blink and swallow. “No, Your Honour.”
“Very well then,” she leans back in her chair. “The court will resume on Thursday, April 17th, for the final hearing. This session is now concluded.”
As the room slowly empties out, you silently stare at Mina, who looks up at you with shining eyes. “We are going to win, right?” She asks, her voice cracking.
You hate how you doubt yourself.
Blinking a few times, you compose yourself. “We will. Trust me. This isn’t over yet.”
It isn’t. Jeonghan plays dirty all the time, and now, for the first time in your career, you will not hesitate to play dirty either. You have to win this case. There is simply no other option.
—
Judge Beatrice’s voice stops you in your tracks when you are on your way to the elevators. “What was that, Attorney ____?”
You immediately whip your back and, clasping your hands together in front of you, mutter out a meek apology. “I am really sorry about that, Madam.”
She steps closer to you, her black robes flowing elegantly along with her movements. “That was very unlike you, Attorney ____. You lost your composure the last day as well. Whatever issue you have with Attorney Yoon, you don’t bring them inside the courtroom, is that clear?”
You stare at the ground, chewing on your lower lip. “Yes, madam. I am extremely sorry.”
“I am letting this pass only because your father was a colleague and a teacher I respected dearly. You know I don’t let shit like that pass in my trials.”
“Yes, Madam. Of course.”
“Good,” she walks past you. “Have faith in yourself, Attorney. You can win this case.”
You stand motionless in your place as the judge walks past you and down the hallway before shutting the door to her office with a loud slam.
You exhale a breath you have been holding.
Your heels click rhythmically on the glossy floors as you make your way towards the elevators, just in time to see the doors of one closing. You immediately push the button to open them back up and immediately regret your decision.
The elevator is empty except for Yoon Jeonghan, who looks up as the doors reopen. The moment his eyes land on you, they sparkle vividly, like a hunter spotting an exotic animal they have been looking for all day.
Your feet pull the brake at the last second as you stand in front of the open doors, your eyes fixed on his face, while you go through a mental debate of whether you should get in or not.
“Attorney ____,” Jeonghan hums sweetly and you know it is anything but sweet. He steps aside and extends a hand, silently asking you to enter.
The fear of looking like a coward has you gritting your teeth as you step inside, ignoring him completely.
Keeping ample space between the two of you, you find your place at one corner, choosing to stare at the ceiling of the elevator. You avoid looking at his face because if you look at it too long, you get violent urges like smashing his head against a wall and cursing him out in every language that ever existed. So, you close your eyes and take in a deep breath as the doors close. It is barely a ten second elevator ride from the third floor. You will survive.
Except two seconds later, you realize you won’t.
With a sudden loud thunk and a heavy vibration, the elevator comes to a halt. A second later, the lights fizzle out, leaving only the dim strips of emergency light on in the ceiling.
How delightful.
None of you moves for a second as the realization of the situation dawns on you. Then, Jeonghan presses the emergency call button, and the voice of a security guard comes through.
“I’m really sorry. This elevator has been having some issues recently. Hang in there for a bit. This should be resolved within 10 minutes.” Someone says.
Lovely.
You grip the handle of your handbag tightly.
Today has been an exceptional day so far. What are the chances you get stuck with Yoon Jeonghan, out of all people, in an elevator?
“He said it’ll take ten minutes,” Jeonghan repeats the information, turning to look at you.
You ignore him and stare at the floor.
“Oh come on,” Jeonghan leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. You can feel his eyes on you, and you find yourself wishing it were pitch dark in here. “We’re stuck here for the next ten minutes if luck is on our side. If not, who knows how long? Might as well make the best of it.”
You huff out a breath before meeting his eyes with a glare. “You know what your problem is, Mr. Devil’s Advocate?”
His brows rise and an amused, cocky smile kisses his lips.
You hate it.
“I’d love to hear it.” He entertains you.
“You argue just to hear yourself talk. Doesn’t matter if you’re defending a cheating husband, a billionaire with a God complex, or…hell— a rock in the middle of the street. If someone pays you enough, suddenly that rock has rights and everyone else is just ‘too emotional’ to see the truth.”
He chuckles, tilting his head. “Hm, depends on the rock. Is it a trust fund rock or self-made?”
Your nostrils flare, and your hands curl into fists. “See? This— this is why I cannot tolerate your guts. I cannot believe I’m stuck in here with you…Yoon fucking Jeonghan.”
Jeonghan chuckles, and you narrow your eyes at him. His eyes linger on your face, making you feel hyperaware of yourself. He traces his index finger over his chin in a thoughtful manner, as if he is scrutinizing you. “You know, I think you yell at me so much because you secretly enjoy saying my name.” He states with a smirk.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Oh, absolutely. It’s my favourite curse word.”
He laughs, the sound lighthearted yet throaty, and you immediately look away for whatever reason.
“This case is clearly stressing you out, sweetheart.” He hums, casually calling you with a nickname. “You should relax.”
“Unlike someone, I actually care about my clients.” You stare at the doors.
“Mhm. I do too. Otherwise, I would not have taken this case.”
“Oh please,” you cannot stop yourself from rolling your eyes this time. “Enough with the pretenses. Everyone knows Jun Gi is paying you millions for this.”
Jeonghan grins, flashing his teeth. “What can I say, I am just that good.”
You bite your tongue and stare at him silently, summoning all your hatred and disgust for him in your eyes. You whisper, “You’re shameless.”
He shrugs, nonchalant.
A sigh of exhaustion parts from your lips, and you check your wristwatch for the nth time. Ten minutes are almost done. How much longer is it going to take?
“What’s the hurry, sweetheart?” Jeonghan singsongs. You grit your teeth, murmuring, “Words cannot describe how much I want to climb through the ceiling vent and leave you here.”
He flashes a grin. “That desperate to get away from me?”
“More like your huge ego.”
“You know what else is huge?” His smirk grows bigger as his eyes shine with mischief.
You scrunch your face in disgust.
“Why are you making that face?” His voice drips with innocence, but you know it's all an act. “I was going to say my winning streak. What was going on in that smart little brain of yours, dirty girl?” He raises a cocky brow, one of his hands working on loosening the knot of his tie. You were about to clap back by saying how unprofessional he is being, but his little action distracts you from saying the words out loud. They become a jumbled mess in your head as your eyes raptly trace the movement of his slender, bony fingers in the dimly lit space. He loosens his navy blue tie before unbuttoning the top button of his shirt, exposing his Adam's apple.
For some reason, the view is hypnotizing, and you hate yourself for not being able to pry your eyes off him. At the same time, in the very back of your mind, an annoying part keeps repeating his words “dirty girl” over and over again.
What is wrong with you? The air must be thinning out in here.
Your gaze shifts from his neck to his face, and with sheer terror, you realize he has been staring at you all this time. Your heart drops and you immediately look away, wishing you were anywhere but here, stuck in an elevator with Jeonghan. The only man who pushes your buttons like nothing else.
You don’t have to look at him to know there is a smug smile on his face.
“You keep looking at me, Attorney ____.” The statement is dripping with arrogance. You hate it. You wish it would go pitch black in here, and you could blend in with the darkness. Or, the elevator could just snap and fall down, and you would accept death happily rather than admitting that you were looking at Yoon Jeonghan.
Turns out you’re in luck this time because your wish immediately materializes with the sudden blinking of lights and a harsh jerk of the elevator that throws you off balance. You lose your footing and fall on the opposite side, right next to Jeonghan, clutching onto the handle to keep yourself stable. Then, the emergency lights fizzle out and it goes pitch black.
“Fuck,’’ he curses under his breath.
“I cannot believe I am going to die here, stuck with you,” you hiss, tightly gripping the handle. Your words lack the confidence you would have liked them to have because you don't like where this is going.
Be careful what you wish for!
“We are not going to die in here, okay?” Jeonghan’s voice has the conviction that yours lacked. Your reply is a grunt because, frankly, your mind is starting to spiral.
Fortunately, the elevator makes another soft jerk, and the lights turn on again with a loud noise. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the brightness, and half a second later, you are hyper-aware of Jeonghan’s presence next to you.
He is so close that his arm is brushing against yours. He is so close that the scent of his cologne tickles your nose and momentarily puts you in a trance. Unconsciously, your head moves, turning sideways to look at him, only to find his face too close to yours, his eyes already trained on you like a hawk.
Your heart skips a beat. As unnerving as it is to be in such proximity to him that you feel his breath caress your face, you find yourself stuck and completely unable to move.
“You know, you are quite beautiful up close.” He whispers.
Your mind blanks out.
You need to do something— smack his face, shove him away, yell at him. Something. Anything. You realize you cannot exercise that will on your body because you keep gazing at him, counting the little moles on his face that you've never taken notice of. In the back of your mind, a quiet voice tells you that he is getting closer to you, his face inching nearer and nearer.
Is he going to kiss you? Why does the thought delight you and send your heart racing?
Briefly, you wonder if it’s your imagination, but no, he is actually getting closer to you. So close that even without his lips meeting yours, you can taste them, you can feel them and the sensation is electric.
Your eyes fall closed instinctively and you wait for a kiss that never comes.
Instead, what comes is the ping of the elevator, which you hear a second later. When you open your eyes, the doors are already open and two maintenance workers blink at the two of you curiously.
Like you have been zapped by a current of a thousand bolts, you and Jeonghan fly away from each other. Jeonghan clears his throat while you straighten your jacket and look anywhere but at the two men standing outside.
“You folks okay?” One of them asks.
“Yeah. Any longer and it would not have been fun.” Jeonghan replies, his tone lighthearted.
Why is he so unaffected? You can still hear the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums, and your face is radiating enough heat to make you sweaty.
One of the guys says something to Jeonghan, continuing the conversation and you use that time to march out of the elevator, your eyes focused on the ground as you fan your heated face.
Fuck, what were you about to do in there? Kiss Yoon Jeonghan?
God, no.
The thought sends shivers down your spine as you briskly continue your way to the parking lot next to the courthouse.
As you are fishing your keys out of your handbag, Jeonghan’s voice makes you stop in your tracks. “Attorney ____!”
You are unsure whether it is shame that prevents you from turning around. You decide it is sheer mortification that leaves you unable to look him in the eye and so, you just turn your head to the left and wait, indicating that you have heard him and are waiting for him to continue.
“See you next Thursday,” Jeonghan says and you wish you could see the look on his face. Is he affected like you are? It sure doesn’t feel like that from his voice.
You pause for a second and, once sure he has nothing more to say, you continue marching towards your car. Without sparing a second and completely avoiding looking at where he stands, you pull your Audi out of the parking lot and zoom down the street.
—
It is the fifth anniversary of the law firm that Judge Beatrice’s son started.
A party isn’t really your scene, especially when most of it is full of boring middle aged men, half of whom you cannot tolerate the guts of. So, you make yourself comfortable in a corner, staying near your colleagues and sipping on champagne instead of going around for the sake of formality.
“Girl, slow down with the drinks.” Lara, your colleague eyes the new flute of champagne in your hand. You huff out a breath. “Please don’t. Let me drink this expensive but free champagne in peace.”
“Dinner isn’t for another hour, you know.” She reminds and before you can reply to her, you are interrupted.
“I didn’t know this was your type of scene, Attorney ____.” Jeonghan’s sudden voice prompts your shoulders to jerk. You turn around and find him standing right there, dressed in a formal three piece suit and slick back hair that makes him look unfairly good.
Fuck. Your fingers grip the flute tightly. For a brief second, your mind travels back to the heated moment you shared with him two days ago in the elevator. Against your wish, your eyes briefly flicker to his lips, but you force your gaze back to his eyes.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Turning your back on him, you sip your champagne in one go. You find Lara looking at the two of you with narrowed eyes and before you can ask her to get you out of this, she struts away with a knowing smile. Jeonghan smoothly positions himself right next to you. “Oh, I just mean I have heard parties aren’t really your thing.” He aimlessly gestures with a hand around the space.
“Don’t know where you heard that from.” You murmur, picking up a flute off the tray as a waiter passes by.
“I am not particularly a fan of parties either but I sure love it when I get to see you, Attorney ____, in a dress. In which, may I add, you look absolutely stunning.” He flashes a dashing smile.
You look away. “Hm,” you hum, “I pegged you as a party lover, honestly, Counselor Yoon.”
He gives you a dirty smile, leaning closer to you. “You would love to peg me, wouldn’t you?”
You half choke on your drink as blood rushes to your face. Jeonghan finds your reaction pleasing because he chuckles at you before finishing his drink in a quick gulp. Wiping your lips, you observe his profile for a while before setting down your flute and facing your body towards him.
“Are you flirting with me?” You cross your arms and cock a brow at him.
He smiles. Resting a hand on the table behind you, he leans closer and you instinctively pull back. Once again, his cologne assaults your senses, making your mind go blank. The perfume on him is different from the one he was wearing the other day. This one has strong notes of sandalwood and a bit of cinnamon, a dangerously addictive combination when it is on him.
“You tell me,” he drawls with a smirk. His eyes are bright, fiery pools of smoke and desire, so deep and hypnotising that your breath catches in your throat. “Am I allowed to flirt with you?”
You huff, trying your best to be annoyed as you shove him away softly. “Ugh, mind your business, Counselor. And stop invading my space.”
“If you wore a dress like this to court, I would let you win every damn case.” His eye contact doesn’t waver when he says the words.
They leave you stunned. You struggle to understand if he is just making fun of you or if he sincerely means them. You blink, watching him with a face that keeps warming up by the second, unable to say anything.
You are saved from the trouble when a few journalists, accompanied by photographers, ask for pictures of you two.
Ah, just what you were waiting for.
One of the many things that you do not enjoy at parties like this is the abundance of journalists, going around with their cameras flashing and asking annoying questions. You find it pointless, especially because of know it is done mostly for flaunting.
Jeonghan smiles brightly, tugging you closer to him with a hand on the small of your back. His fingertips brush against the bare skin on your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You try to put some distance between the two of you, but he keeps you close, grinning at the flashing camera.
A reporter asks you, “You are working against Attorney Yoon in a case right now. Could you tell us how it has been so far?”
“I think Attorney Yoon is a very competent lawyer. He is good at his job, like I am in mine.” You give a professional, practiced smile to the reporter.
“Wow,” Jeonghan raises a brow at you. “Such sweet words coming from you.”
The camera's flash and you smile while muttering under your breath. “If you believed them to be true, then you are not as good as you think you are, Lawyer Yoon.”
He simply chuckles and pulls you tighter against his body, posing for the cameras.
“Who do you think is going to win this case?” A reporter asks and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. What kind of a question is that?
Jeonghan takes over, replying playfully but also professionally. “To know that, you need to wait till next week. Now, if you will excuse us, gentlemen.” He ushers you away from the reporters and towards a comparatively secluded part of the backyard, right next to the conservatory.
“Can you let go of my hand?” You huff, trying to free yourself. Jeonghan finally stops and turns around, regarding you with mischief, his solid grip still on your wrist. “Why? I promise I don’t bite.”
“Ew,” you tug your hand free and take a few steps away from him. You smooth out your dress, muttering underneath your breath, “I was stuck with you in an elevator this week. Can’t believe I am seeing you again so quickly.”
He pouts. “Aw, come on. You’re hurting my feelings.”
“Right,” your lips form a sarcastic smile. “Like you have those.”
Jeonghan does not reply and you try to pretend he is not right next to you, instead looking at the large estate of Judge Beatrice’s mansion. From this vantage point, you can see everything: from the manicured gardens to the sweeping line of tables draped in white linen, flickering lanterns dotting the pathway, and the silhouette of the live band. The scent of night-blooming jasmine wafts through the air, and every now and then, bursts of laughter rise above the steady, gentle hum of chatter among the guests.
“This place is actually beautiful.” Jeonghan comments.
“Yeah, when you don’t have reporters chasing after you, it is.” You reply, watching the last hues of sunset blend into the night sky. Despite having your sworn enemy right next to you, you feel oddly peaceful, a sense of tranquility settling in your heart like the hush after a summer storm.
“I have always wanted to own a mansion like this.” You find yourself whispering. Jeonghan turns his head to look at you and you feel his steady gaze piercing holes in the side of your face. Unable to resist yourself any longer, you turn your head to look at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” he replies, voice laced with a foreign tenderness that feels melodic to your ears.
In the muted lights of the garden, his face appears lethally gorgeous and you are transported to that moment inside the elevator two days ago. The same feelings bubble up from deep within you, making your breaths short and heavy as you fight a battle against pressing your lips to his.
It feels like a losing battle.
He gently hums your name. Your proper name, not as your job title and the hairs on your neck stand up. Hearing your name from his mouth feels sinfully good, like a taboo and you are forced to meet his gaze.
With bated breath, you watch him come closer to you.
“Jeonghan,” the word falls from your lips like a plea, tentative yet needy, soft yet urgent. He inches even closer upon hearing the word, pressing his body snugly against yours, his hot breath fanning your face, only a few centimeters of space left between your lips and his.
His hand explores your body, caressing the back of your thigh before going upwards, resting a bit too long on your ass before slithering around your waist. As if you were not already close enough, he tugs you even closer and soft grunts your name once more, his eyes growing heavy-lidded as his gaze remains trained on your lips.
You can almost feel fireworks go off inside your body. You are feeling sensations and desires you have never felt before, and a tiny part of your brain raises alarm bells, but at this point, you are too gone to care. You can never go back to how it used to be with him after you cross this line.
Somehow, you find yourself being okay with that thought right now. You briefly wonder if it is all the drinks you had finally catching up to you.
Your hands that were frozen by your side until now finally relax, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you and resting your forehead against his. Your body finds a place next to him so easily and gracefully, it’s like you have always been together. Like yin and yang.
He inhales sharply and utters your name, his voice heavy with desire.
You make up your mind in that moment.
Without wasting another breath, you pull his face towards you and kiss him, slowly at first but it changes into quick and desperate as Jeonghan’s hands cup your jaw and tilt your face up to get better access. He completely takes over the kiss and your body, pushing your back against the wall of the conservatory and kissing you like he had been wanting to do it for ages. It feels like he is a man starved and you are his beacon of light, the way his hand grips your waist and pulls you impossibly close while devouring your lips. His tongue is in your mouth, tasting every inch of you and it is absolutely glorious; a breathtaking combination of all of your wildest fantasies combined. It is hard, bruising and wanton, taking your breath away yet leaving you feeling a high unlike ever before.
When he finally pulls away, the two of you gasp for air, faces flushed with heat and sweat. His eyes stay locked with yours and you clearly see the desire pool in them like molten lava. You know for a fact that he sees the same in you. You hate Jeonghan, you truly do but you have never wanted a man as much as you want him.
So much so that when he starts tugging you with him, you don’t question him or protest. Silently, he pulls you towards the entrance of the conservatory. He tugs on the door, and it comes open, surprising you. With the door closed and away from the noise and the crowd, his lips find yours with ease even in the darkness. One of his lands feels the skin of your thigh underneath the slit of your dress, his fingers gripping and squeezing your flesh while his other hand holds your face, tracing the slopes and edges of your jaw and neck with his thumbs.
“Jeonghan,” you sigh, grabbing his hand and pulling it closer to your core. His fingers brush over your panties and you shudder, burying your face in his neck.
“You want my fingers here, sweetheart?” His voice is deep as he starts tracing his mouth from your jaw to your neck. You make a barely cohesive sound of agreement and then, baffling you, he slaps your pussy, hard. Your mouth hangs open in shock and mortification, the sting of his slap leaving behind a delicious tingle.
“Answer me,” he whispers next to your ear, nibbling on the skin below your earlobe. Another sigh of pleasure falls from your lips, your eyes falling closed at his ministrations. “Yes,” you whisper.
“You have it.” He hisses and, in one smooth motion, he pulls your panties aside and thrusts two of his fingers inside you. You squeal, hands fisting his jacket tightly as his digits easily slip in due to your arousal. “Oh god.” You moan, eyes rolling back as you feel his fingers move in and out of you with ease, hitting the perfect spot each time. Paired with the movement of his fingers and the heated look he’s sending your way, you know you’re not very far from your release. You are so aroused it is embarrassing but by now, you have gone past the point of caring.
He speeds up the movement of his fingers and you squeak, “Fuck, Jeonghan. I’m gonna…”
He chuckles. “So quickly, sweetheart? Are my fingers that good?”
“Mhm,” you hum, squeezing your eyes shut, grabbing onto his body like he is your lifeline. Come then. Wet my fingers with your sweet juice,” His filthy words make you moan out loud involuntarily, his thumb brushing over your clit, rubbing it swiftly and sending you over the edge, face-first into your orgasm.
It shakes your limbs as you stand there pressed against his body, feeling it wash over you, your pussy spasming repeatedly while he keeps playing with you throughout your high. When you finally feel the last of your orgasm ebb away and your mind starts functioning again, Jeonghan pulls his fingers out of you, dripping in your essence and licks his digits clean, never wavering eye contact with you.
You shiver, whether from the intimate act or from the cold, you don’t know.
Jeonghan watches you silently, his eyes carefully taking in every detail of your face. You see his gaze shift in the dimly lit space, a slither of light coming from outside falling directly on his face, casting it in a heavenly glow and adding a new shine to his wet lips. For a moment, your mind blanks out, transfixed by his beauty and the hum of pleasure echoing through your body. When the beating of your heart finally slows down and the high of your release starts wearing off, a chill runs down your spine and you grow cold.
The realization of what you just did hits you like a ton of bricks and you freeze, staring at him blankly.
Fuck. That should not have happened. He is a walking, talking red flag and you just got dirty with him. Hell, you’re going up against him in court next week!
Fuck, fuck.
This is the man you lost to. This man is your sworn enemy. You should not have let him in.
Especially…especially because deep down in your heart, you feel something for him that is serious and sincere. Past all your history and professional war, you feel something for him and after tonight, you know it will only amplify.
You have no one to blame but yourself.
Jeonghan leans closer to you, the glint of mischief returning in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but in a moment of panic, you shove him away and hurriedly fix the strap of your dress.
“I need to leave,” you announce in a broken voice, pushing past him and scurrying out the door. You take the back exit, marching away from the party as fast as possible while trying to keep your tears at bay.
Silly, silly girl.
—
The sky is gloomy today, much like your mood.
You stand in the hallway of the courthouse, pensively gazing out the window, your body humming with nerves. After your encounter with Jeonghan, your weekend sucked. With the memory of that night branded in your brain, you ran around nonstop, trying to gather some solid evidence against Jun Gi.
You wish you could have done better.
The sound of heavy footsteps steals your attention as you turn around to find Jeonghan walking towards you.
You freeze in your spot, your hands gripping your handbag in a deathly hold as he comes closer and closer.
“Hey, ____.” Your name casually rolls off his tongue and for a moment, you struggle to find your voice. He looks as gorgeous as ever with his hair slicked back and dressed in a fine black three-piece suit. His face, as usual, gives nothing away, radiating composure and ease.
He looks lethal and you hate it.
“About that night at the party,” You find yourself speaking. “I hope you forget that. I just had one too many drinks. That’s all.”
Jeonghan blinks, slowly registering your words. “Wait, are you saying that it was a mistake?”
You clench your teeth and scowl at him, “Yes.”
“Ha,” Jeonghan scoffs, his mouth parting in shock. He rakes a frustrated hand through his hair, disheveling the styled locks. “Fuck, really?”
“Yes,” you hiss. “And I hope you won’t bring that up ever again, Mr. Yoon.” You don’t wait for his reply, shooting a final glare at him before marching down the hallway.
It was a mistake. It was a mistake. You keep chanting the words over and over again in your head, trying to believe them.
The effort is futile because you believe otherwise. To you, it meant more. Sure, it was a moment of weakness, a lapse in your judgment. However, over the weekend, upon reflection, you realized that you have feelings for the insufferable, egotistical man.
There is no room for those feelings right now.
You have a case to win. If you lose today, you will not only lose to Jeonghan for the second time but also a mother will lose her child.
So, no room for feelings.
—
Your closing statement feels heavy on your tongue, especially when you see Mina’s glossy eyes directed at you, hopeful yet petrified and you feel the crushing guilt overtake your entire being. You should have done better.
The financial statements of her ex-husband are the only weapon you managed to secure. He’s a powerful man, meticulously guarded. Digging up dirt on him has been like searching for a needle in a haystack. The few precious pieces of footage you submitted, like glimpses of his reckless lifestyle, wild spending sprees, late-night parties with young women, and drinking until dawn, you hope, are enough to plant a seed of doubt. It’s not much, but it’s a spark of hope you hold onto, praying that it just might turn the tide in your favour. So, you go with that.
You take a deep breath. “Your Honour, the primary concern in this case is the well-being of the child. The father’s spending habits reveal a pattern of reckless prioritisation— purchasing luxury items and throwing expensive parties while neglecting his son’s care. Parenting requires more than financial security; it demands consistent presence and responsibility, which my client has consistently demonstrated.
Additionally, we cannot ignore the situation with the nanny, Jeanie. Initially willing to testify, she suddenly withdrew without explanation. It is a suspicious change that raises concerns about potential interference. This only reinforces the need for caution when considering the father’s ability to provide a stable environment. So I urge the court to grant primary custody to the mother, ensuring the child’s best interests are prioritized. Thank you.”
You do not find any power in you to look at the judge’s face or anyone’s in the courtroom. Silently, you pad over to your bench and sit down next to Mina, your eyes trained on the ground. One of her hands comes to rest on top of yours, giving you a gentle squeeze of reassurance.
Judge Beatrice asks, “Defense counsel, your final statements, please.”
“Yes, your Honour,” Jeonghan responds, standing up and buttoning his jacket. “But before that, I would like to apologize for the unexpected request at this stage. Some new information has come to light that I believe is crucial to this case. With the court’s permission, I would like to call an additional witness, Ms. Jeanie Miller, the child’s nanny.”
Shocked and bewildered at his statement, your head snaps up.
“There was no mention of having a witness at the stand today,” Judge Beatrice says flatly.
“I understand the unusual nature of this late request, but given the gravity of the custody decision, it is imperative that the court hears her testimony,” Jeonghan states firmly.
"Wait, what?" Gun Ji stands up from his seat beside Jeonghan, a look of panic on his face. "That...that's not necessary!" Jeonghan ignores him, calmly keeping his eyes focused on judge Beatrice.
She gives him a long, keen look. “Fine, bring her in.”
—
“After thoroughly reviewing the evidence presented and carefully considering the testimonies, this court determines that the child’s best interests must take precedence. Therefore, the court rules that the primary physical and legal custody of the minor child be granted to the mother. The father shall be given reasonable visitation rights as determined by the parenting plan. Court is adjourned.” Judge Beatrice finishes.
The sound of her striking the gavel echoes through the courtroom. Beside you, Mina yelps out, her voice full of glee and unshed tears as she jumps up before engulfing you in a hug. However, everything surrounding you has faded into the background as you keep staring at Jeonghan on the other side, his face composed and content even.
His eyes meet yours and he nods, giving you a soft, subtle smile that almost feels like a mirage.
Is this a dream?
You just won this case. You won against Yoon Jeonghan.
But why does it not feel like a victory at all?
He yielded. He brought Jeanie in court and had her testify against his client at the very last moment.
Why?
A bitter taste of betrayal is left in your mouth as you watch him ignore Jun Gi’s yelling. It feels like you did not earn the victory but rather, it was handed to you.
The feeling is sickening.
—
With everyone gone, the courtroom is empty now, except for you and Jeonghan.
Your files lay spread out on the table but you don’t bother arranging them. You should have been out of here by now, going on with your day and even make plans to celebrate your victory. For some reason, though, you could not leave.
You stand with your arms crossed and watch Jeonghan, his back facing you, as he arranges all his files and puts them in his briefcase one by one while talking over the phone.
“Yes, I can be there in an hour…Okay, see you then.” He hangs up and sets the phone down, tilting his head to glance at you. “Congratulations, Lawyer ___.”
His words sound like sarcasm.
“Why did you let me win, Jeonghan?” Your voice is flat.
He turns around and frowns. “What do you mean, 'let you win'?”
“You know very well what I mean,” you sneer, stepping closer to him, your heels clicking loudly. “Why did you yield? You have never done that before, and you have represented far worse people. What, getting in my pants changed your mind? You thought I would let you hit if you let me have this case?”
His mouth falls open, his eyes widening in disbelief.
“Answer me, asshole!”
“You are better than this,” he replies, his tone quiet but his gaze turbulent, a swirl of emotions shining in his pupils. “You know better than this.” He pauses before scrunching up his face. “Let me hit? What…How could you even say that? Sure, I am a scumbag but even for me that’s low. You know I respect you.”
“Do you? You hiss, getting up in his face. “Do you really, Mr. Money Talks? Since I have known you, you have never done something nice without an ulterior motive. Tell me, what was it this time?”
“I have had enough of this conversation,” he grunts, turning away to finish packing his belongings.
“Oh, I am sure you have. Now that I have seen through your shit, I bet you’re done, you pathetic asshole.”
He does not make a sound as he finishes packing, the sound of his briefcase shutting leaving an echoing boom in the thick, looming silence. Without acknowledging your presence, he starts walking away and you scoff in utter disbelief. His quiet footsteps echo through the courtroom, leaving behind a sense of emptiness and rage inside you that you don't know how to grapple with.
When he is almost at the door, he turns around and stares at you blankly. “For what it is worth, I really do respect you.”
The door slams quietly behind him.
—
1 week later
You stroll through the bustling streets of late-night Seoul, the faint hum of traffic mixing with the distant chatter of people at the little roadside shops, drinking with their friends. The air is slightly chilly, but comfortable, just enough to make you pull your coat a little tighter around you.
It has been a week since your victory. Throughout the week, you have waited for that feeling of accomplishment to come to you, the sense that will force you to look on the bright side. It has not come.
Victory should feel sweeter than this. You won the case, defending your client with everything you had. Yet, as you weave through the crowd, your thoughts keep drifting back to him— Jeonghan. You can’t help it. You keep revisiting your last interaction with him; that pained look in his eyes and the quiet depth of his words. It gave you a glimpse of a Jeonghan you never saw before, one you thought did not exist— one who has a heart.
You tell yourself it’s just the lingering adrenaline of a hard-fought case, but it bothers you more than you’d like to admit. So much so that you feel tempted to pick up your phone and just call him.
“____!” A sudden loud voice makes you jolt as you stop on the pavement and look around. You spot Kai, a law school friend and Jeonghan's colleague, sitting at one of the roadside restaurants, holding a bottle of soju with one hand and waving at you with the other.
You smile and walk over to him.
“Sit. Have a drink. It has been a while since we had a chat,” he smiles, offering you a seat. You grab a blue plastic tool and sit, eyeing the empty shot glass and some leftover food on a plate next to him. You tease him, “What? Got ditched by your date?”
He snorts, pouring you a shot. “By date, if you mean Jeonghan, then yeah, sure.”
Your ears perk and you sit up straight. “Jeonghan was here?”
He hums, pushing a glass towards you. “Yep, he just left.” He downs a shot and makes a noise of satisfaction. “This guy, I swear to god. He’s been weird all week. Right after the hearing on Thursday, Jun Gi stormed into the office, calling him a traitor and whatnot. Jeonghan didn’t even flinch. Just sat there, cool as always.” He pauses to take a sip of his drink. “At some point, the guy shoved him. And, get this— Jeonghan threw a punch. Didn’t even hesitate. I swear I’ve never seen him like that. Gave Jun Gi a black eye and then kicked him out the door in front of everyone. Insane, right?”
Holy shit. You gape at Kai. “Jeonghan... hit him? His client?”
“Ex client, but yeah, he did. He never loses his cool like that, you know. I tried talking to him, but he just shrugged it off. I think this case messed with his head. Not like him to get that... involved.”
You sit on the rickety plastic stool, stunned. The nagging in your brain finally becomes too much to ignore and you ask, “Did he say where he was going?"
“Jeonghan? He’ll probably catch the bus. You know the stop two blocks down that runs till midnight.”
Your heart starts racing. “Thanks, Kai,” you murmur, quickly chugging a shot down before hurrying down the sidewalk. You pick up your pace, the chill of the night air pushing you forward despite the uncomfortable feeling of your heels digging into your feet. You don’t know what you’ll say to Jeonghan when you find him— you just know you have to.
You start running at full speed, pushing through the busy sidewalk and murmuring apologies to the people you bump into. The bus stop comes into view, fairly empty, and your heart stops, realizing you missed Jeonghan. However, a second later, your view gets clearer and you spot the man standing there with a cigarette between his lips, his jacket slung over his shoulders as he looks around with boredom.
“You!” You charge at him, yelling. “You! Explain. What really happened that day? Why did you change your mind?” You pant, catching your breath when you finally stop in front of him.
Jeonghan, busy blowing out a thin stream of smoke, whips his head upon hearing your voice, shock flashing in his gaze. His half-lidded eyes widen, before he frowns, “What the hell are you doing here?’’
“Answer me, Jeonghan.” You glare at him, still gasping for air. “What happened that day in court?” He keeps staring at you with keen eyes that make you feel like he can see through you, reading your innermost thoughts. He takes a drag of his cigarette before speaking, his voice smooth as always.
“Since you're so curious...I did my duty at first, you know. I believed my client. That’s what a lawyer does…even when everything else tells you your client is a bastard.”
“But you knew that from the very beginning. You knew he wasn’t fit to take care of his son. You don’t just flip like that. What made you change your mind?”
Jeonghan pauses, rolling the cigarette between his fingers, his gaze trained on the poison stick thoughtfully. “Look, I’ve defended plenty of rich idiots. Comes with the job. But this one... he just slipped up.”
You raise a brow. “Slipped up?”
He smirks, but rather than the usual cockiness, there’s a shadow behind it that leaves you wondering. “Let’s just say I overheard him running his mouth on the phone. Something about how he didn’t really care about the kid. He just didn’t want to ‘lose’ to his ex-wife. Didn’t matter if his kid hated him. As long as he came out on top, he was happy.”
You frown, processing the information. Jeonghan flicks the ash off his cigarette, his tone a bit sharper now. “Turns out our model father also bribed the nanny to keep her mouth shut. When I got her alone and told her I’d keep her safe if she talked... well, a lot more things came into light.”
You hold your breath. “Was he…abusing him?”
Jeonghan huffs out. “Let me know if Mina wants to file a case against him. I have enough evidence to make her win.”
Fuck. You sigh, your gaze trained on the gravel of the pavement. “So that’s why you went against your client.”
Jeonghan scoffs lightly, still not looking directly at you. “Don’t make it sound noble. It was just bad strategy to keep lying when the truth was that obvious.”
You fold your arms and narrow your eyes at him. “You’re not that selfless. You don’t just risk your reputation for a lost cause.”
Jeonghan remains silent for a beat, his jaw tightening before he finally looks at you, something unguarded flashing in his eyes. “Let’s just say... I’ve seen that look before. In that kid. Eyes that don’t know whether to hate or hold on because neither makes sense when your old man never really gave a damn. Figured I didn’t want to see another kid grow up wondering why he wasn’t enough.” He shrugs, as if it’s nothing, but the hint of vulnerability lingers. You catch it— just a flicker before his usual cocky smirk slides back into place.
“Jeonghan…”
“Don’t get all sentimental on me now. The kid just deserved better. That’s all.”
He takes one last drag of his cigarette and flicks it to the ground, crushing it under his heel as you silently watch him. The tension between you lingers, charged and unresolved. You want to say a lot of things to him, but you don’t know where to start. It feels like a cactus is lodged in your throat, pricking at your skin every time a word manifests on your tongue.
“I’m sorry!” You blurt out. Jeonghan’s head turns towards you slowly, his eyes blown out like he just saw Santa Claus flying through the sky.
“I’m sorry, what?” He gapes.
You bite your lip. “I… am sorry. For the things I said that day. For…I don’t know…Everything, I guess.”
He keeps staring at you like you have grown two heads and you drawl out a groan. “Can you not stare at me like that?”
“I am…lost for words.”
You try to make a joke. “Wow, very unlike Yoon Jeonghan to be left speechless.”
“You tend to do that to me,” he murmurs so softly as if he did not want you to hear it but you do, and your heart starts drumming loudly in your ears. His eyes never stray from you as he flicks the cigarette to the ground before crushing it with the heel of his shoe.
Then, he takes a step towards you.
You don’t step back, looking up at his eyes, slightly breathless. His eyes shine, mirroring the lights of late-night Seoul and something deeper, something foreign. It is a look you have never seen before that fills you with hope and joy.
Jeonghan’s hand reaches for yours, his fingertips ever so slightly tracing the lengths of your fingers and your knuckles, giving you goosebumps.
“Your words really hurt that day, you know,” he murmurs, the look in his eyes deeply intimate. He comes even closer to you and you love it. You love having him in your personal space, feeling the warmth radiating off him, the smell of his cologne and cigarette mixing into an addictive scent. “But, now that you are looking at me like that, with those beautiful eyes of yours,” he pauses, tantalizingly slowly linking his fingers with yours. His tone is serious but also contains a softness that makes heat pool in your belly, “I have no choice but to forgive you.”
You make a broken sound of acknowledgement. Too busy trying to get your heart to calm down. You feel like a giddy teenager, ready to have your first kiss.
And boy, do you want to kiss him.
“But,” he pauses and you hold your breath. “When you say you’re sorry for the things you said that day…does it also include that?”
“What?” You blink.
“You said it was a mistake. Are you sorry for saying that?”
Your breath stops. You gaze into his eyes, deep, dark pools of honey and you feel a sense of vulnerability grow in you. Unconsciously, you hold his hand tighter when you whisper, “Jeonghan?”
“Hm?” He leans closer to you and it physically hurts not to kiss him.
“That night…was it a mistake for you?”
He remains silent, looking at you unblinking. His eyes search your face for something you don’t understand.
“No, it was not, ____.” He says quietly but the conviction in his voice is louder than anything. “I meant every word I said that night and I do not regret having my fingers deep inside your cunt. In fact, I crave to do it again.” Only Jeonghan can say something so filthy with so much emotion. Your breath stutters and heat blooms all over your skin as you fight to swallow the lump in your throat.
“Me too,” you whisper, hypnotized by his gaze. “It was not a mistake. I am sorry I said it was.”
The look in his eyes instantly darkens. His free hand snakes around your waist, pulling your body tight against his. Your arms find home around his neck and your eyes trail to his lips before you whisper, “I want to kiss you, Jeonghan.”
“What’s holding you back?”
Nothing.
You lean upwards just slightly and press your lips to his. His arms engulf you, pulling you in deeper into the kiss. It is perfect, it is magical. The taste of cigarette in his tongue, the caress of his thumb on your lower back, the feeling of his warmth encompassing you whole— it is all perfect.
The signature cocky smile is back on his lips when you break the kiss, that familiar mischief twinkling in his eyes. You cannot help but smile.
“Wow, Lawyer ____.” He is grinning. “Does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?”
You feel giddy.
“Not so fast, Counselor. At least take me on a date first.” You tease, adjusting his collars. He leans down to come to your eye level. “How about this? You come home with me tonight and stay over. In the morning, I’ll take you out for breakfast. In fact, we will spend the whole day outside.”
“Sounds like a date,” you mumble, looking into his eyes.
“Yes, it is.” He hums, leaning back. His hand finds yours and interlocking your fingers, he starts walking.
“You’re not going to take the bus?” You ask, trailing after him. He has that incredulous, love-struck smile on his face. “Nah. I feel like walking with you. What do you say? Shall we take the long road?”
A/N: what was originally a 6k word fic turned out to be almost 10k. whew! i feel like i wrote another fic set in sibilance universe unintentionally. bc Jeonghan was a lawyer over there too?? anyway, i hope this was an enjoyable read. i'd love to hear your thoughts so do comment or drop an ask! as always, please like and reblog! toodles!<3
*slice of life, 14th member, featuring intense emotions, conflict, and vulnerability, mention of an eating disorder*
It was supposed to be her day.
As the 14th member of SEVENTEEN, Y/N had grown used to long hours, sore muscles, and the constant spotlight that came with being an idol. But nothing could have prepared her for how crushing her birthday would feel this year.
The morning began badly. Her alarm didn't go off, and by the time she rushed into the dance practice studio, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, she was already twenty minutes late. Seungcheol glared at her from across the room.
"You're late. Again."
His voice was firm, clipped, and far colder than it needed to be. Y/N opened her mouth to explain maybe even joke about her bad luck but he cut her off. "Save the excuses. Get in formation."
She nodded silently, biting her tongue as she took her place beside Hoshi, who refused to look at her.
The music blasted through the speakers. They danced. And danced. And danced.
Each mistake she made earned her another sharp look, another correction, another exhausting sigh. Hoshi didn’t hide his irritation. Seungcheol called her out in front of everyone.
At the lunch break, she sat in the corner, nibbling on boiled eggs and celery part of the strict diet the staff had forced her on. She was already battling insecurities. But the universe seemed especially cruel today.
"Maybe don’t eat that," one of the stylists muttered, half-joking but cruel nonetheless. "You're already a bit bigger than the other girls. Don’t want to stand out for the wrong reasons."
Y/N's heart dropped.
None of the boys said anything. Mingyu glanced at her awkwardly before looking away. Vernon avoided her eyes. Even Jeonghan her usual safe space seemed too caught up with his phone to notice.
She thought maybe just maybe someone would remember. A hug, a smile, a whispered happy birthday. Anything.
But nothing came.
When the practice resumed, she fumbled. Seungcheol shouted. Hoshi snapped. And she snapped back.
"I'm doing my best, okay?! It's not like anyone gives a damn anyway!"
"Don't act like the world revolves around you," Hoshi shot back.
"Yeah," Seungcheol added. "Everyone's tired. Everyone’s stressed. It’s not just you, Y/N. Grow up."
She walked out.
Tears blurred her vision as she ran to the convenience store down the block. She stood in front of the small cake fridge for ten minutes before settling on a tiny chocolate one with rainbow sprinkles.
Her fingers trembled as she picked up candles: a "2" and a "1." Her 21st birthday.
Back at the dorms, she quietly lit the candles in the shared kitchen while the others were still at practice.
She stared at the flickering lights.
"Happy birthday to me," she whispered, voice cracking.
No music. No smiles. No one.
She didn't even make a wish. Just blew the flames out before they melted too far and watched the smoke curl up into the air.
The cake tasted like cardboard in her mouth.
When the boys finally returned home later that evening, sweaty and loud, no one noticed the box on the counter. No one saw her swollen eyes. No one said a word.
And when she finally mustered the courage to bring it up—one more time her voice barely audible in the living room where they all gathered, she regretted it instantly.
"I know everyone's tired," she said. "But it’s my birthday today. And... it kind of hurt that no one"
Jeonghan raised a brow. "Y/N, really? That’s what you’re upset about?"
"You know we’re all dealing with stuff," Seungkwan chimed in. "You being dramatic won’t help anything."
"The world doesn’t revolve around you," Seungcheol said again, his voice even colder than before.
Someone even told her to shut up.
She stood there, frozen.
No one noticed the tears slipping down her cheeks. No one tried to stop her as she walked to the kitchen, grabbed the uneaten cake from earlier, and dumped it into the trash.
The sound of the plastic container hitting the bin was louder than any scream.
That night, she curled into a ball on her mattress, the sound of muffled laughter from the living room echoing in her ears.
She had never felt more invisible.
because she needed to move forward. Waking up with swollen eyes and a hollow chest, she told herself it was just another day.
When she walked into the practice room, her demeanor had shifted. Y/N was calm, composed, but distant like winter in the middle of July. She greeted everyone with a polite nod, not a smile. Not her usual bubbly good morning. She rehearsed like a machine, each move sharp, emotionless, perfect.
Seungcheol tried to correct her once, and she merely nodded without eye contact. Hoshi offered a bottle of water during a break, and she quietly declined.
The rest of the boys noticed something was wrong. Her laughter the sound that used to brighten the practice room was gone. She didn’t joke with Dino or bicker with Woozi. She didn’t offer to fix Seungkwan’s hair like she usually did or lean on Minghao’s shoulder during breaks.
She had pulled herself away, drawing a clear boundary with silence.
That evening, as they packed up to leave, Vernon lingered by the door, watching her put on her hoodie.
“Y/N…”
She looked up slowly, brows raised.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she replied with a small, unreadable smile.
But her eyes told a different story.
As she walked past him, Seungcheol stood nearby, guilt evident on his face. He hadn’t slept well. Neither had Hoshi. Or any of them. Something was wrong, and they all felt it. The realization was slowly settling in heavy, remorseful, and too late.
They had hurt her. Deeply. And she wasn’t going to pretend it didn’t happen.
The next day, Y/N woke up and decided she would simply... move on. Or at least pretend to. If they didn’t care, then why should she? She washed her face, tied her hair back, and left her room without a word, walking past the members in the living room with a blank stare. Her steps were silent, movements precise. Not angry. Not even sad. Just... muted.
She no longer cracked jokes in the practice room, no longer shared drinks with Jeonghan or teased Seungkwan. She didn’t ask questions or offer to help during dance practice. She didn’t even bother correcting choreography anymore, even when someone clearly needed it.
Instead, she practiced alone. Ate alone. Sat alone. She became a ghost in her own group.
When she was hungry, she just stared at the food longer than she should have, then picked the smallest portion, nibbled at it, and excused herself. Her daily meals were now a spoon of rice, a boiled egg, and maybe a sip of water if she remembered. Her body felt tired, her limbs heavy, but she pressed on. Because she was dramatic, right? The world didn’t revolve around her.
None of the members noticed at first. They were busy. Busy rehearsing, recording, filming. Too busy to notice that Y/N had stopped singing harmonies or giving morning hugs. Too busy to see that she cried silently in the bathroom before interviews.
But someone did notice.
A junior staff member, one who had always been kind to her, who used to sneak her extra snacks during breaks and call her "lil sis" affectionately, pulled her aside one afternoon.
“Y/N,” he said softly, concern lacing his voice. “Can we talk?”
She blinked slowly. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” he said firmly. “I’ve seen you. You barely eat. You don’t smile anymore. You don’t talk to anyone. You’re fading.”
She bit her lip and looked away.
“I know what happened,” he added, voice quieter now. “I was there. I heard how they spoke to you on your birthday.”
That made her chest tighten.
“You didn’t deserve that.”
A bitter laugh almost escaped her lips, but she swallowed it down. “It’s fine. I was being dramatic, right? The world doesn’t revolve around me.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “But it also doesn’t revolve around them. And you’re a part of this team too. They forgot your birthday, humiliated you, dismissed your feelings. That’s not okay.”
Tears gathered in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now. Not again.
The staff sighed, reaching out to gently place a water bottle in her hand. “Please... take care of yourself. I’m worried about you.”
She nodded slowly, eyes glued to the bottle. She didn’t say thank you. Just nodded. A single, subtle acknowledgment.
One word. One movement. That’s all she gave anyone now.
She had learned. Her feelings didn’t matter. Her problems were hers alone to deal with. So she stayed quiet, buried the pain, and carried the weight on her own shoulders.
And for now, that was enough to survive.
Minghao quietly observed her from across the room. She hadn’t said a word during dinner. Hadn’t laughed once. Not even when Seungkwan tried to be funny. And that was unlike her.
He excused himself from the others and followed her to the balcony where she stood, arms folded, staring at the night sky.
“Y/N,” he said softly.
She glanced over, clearly not expecting him. “Yeah?”
“You’re hurting,” he said.
“I’m fine.”
He walked closer. “You’re not. You haven’t looked anyone in the eyes for two days. You barely eat. You flinch when someone calls your name.”
She clenched her jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
She turned to him, eyes glassy. “Why now? Why do you care now?”
“I always cared,” Minghao said, voice thick with emotion. “I just didn’t realize how bad it had gotten.”
Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. “Everyone forgot. Everyone told me I was dramatic. Like my feelings didn’t matter. Like I didn’t matter.”
He stepped forward and gently took her hand. “You matter. More than you know. I’m so sorry we made you feel like you didn’t. We were wrong.”
She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t pull away either. Minghao pulled her into a hug, and after a long pause, she finally let herself cry.
“I’m here now,” he whispered. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
One night, after everyone had gone to bed, he knocked gently on her door.
"Y/N... it's me. Can I come in?"
There was silence, then the soft sound of the lock clicking. She opened the door, her face bare, vulnerable. She looked like she hadn’t slept properly in days.
He walked in quietly and sat on the edge of her bed, patting the space next to him. She hesitated before sitting.
"I miss you," he said honestly. "I miss your laugh. Your smart remarks. The way you call me out when I zone out. I miss my friend."
She looked down. "I'm still here."
A silence fell between them. She clenched her fingers. "I just... I thought I mattered more. And then everyone made me feel like I didn’t. Like I was a burden for caring about one thing that mattered to me. I didn’t want to deal with that again. So I stopped expecting anything."
Minghao exhaled slowly and reached over, wrapping his pinky around hers. "You do matter. We were stupid. We got caught up in everything else and forgot something important you. I forgot. And I’m sorry."
Tears built in her eyes again, but she held them in. "I hate how easy it was for everyone to just forget. I felt so small."
"Then let me help you feel big again. Not because you have to fight for it, but because we were wrong and you deserve better. I’ll fix this with you, okay?"
She finally nodded, leaning her head gently on his shoulder.
The next morning, it started with small gestures. Jun brought her favorite iced tea. Wonwoo invited her to read beside him, no pressure. Jeonghan gave her his hoodie wordlessly when he noticed she was shivering in the studio.
And when Seungcheol stepped into the dance room, he didn't lead the routine. Instead, he bowed deeply.
"I’m sorry, Y/N. I hurt you. We all did. Please let us earn your trust again."
Hoshi stepped forward too, looking deeply ashamed. "You’re not dramatic. You’re not silly. You're family."
Bit by bit, they came back to her. Not with grand gestures, but with sincere, quiet love the kind that proves itself day by day.
TAGS & WARNINGS 𐂴 non-idol au, angst, hurt/no comfort, established relationship, one mention of death, crying, mentions of kissing, reader has flashbacks, hoshi is here to comfort reader, lowkey reader x hoshi, just really sad and angsty, no happy ending i repeat: NO HAPPY NDING
SUMMARY 𐂴 you finally returned to the apartment where your love had died.
LYR'S SIDENOTES 𐂴 omg first jihoon fic!! a lyrnon asked for some woozi angst and i took that quite seriously 😭 love how the first time i write for woozi i choose sickening angst...yeah sorry not sorry!! was so tempted to add some fluff or comfort at the end but i quickly deleted it and made it even worse, so...enjoy 😊
NOW PLAYING 𐂴 visions of gideon (sufjan stevens)
WORD COUNT 712 𐂴 FOR @kstrucknet
the doorknob becomes a blob of gold as tears swim in your vision, and the empty apartment seems to look more and more threatening to you by the second. soonyoung's hand is wrapped around yours, and he looks at you one more time with watery eyes. "you sure you're ready for this?"
you nod slowly, unable to say anything else without breaking down. soonyoung nods as well, biting his bottom lip as he unlocks the front door.
the two of you quietly step inside, letting the coolness of the empty air wash over you. the apartment is dark, everything just as you left it two months before. the coffee table is littered with two mugs, and two blankets lazily lie on the couch, unused and untouched from the last moments you and jihoon had spent here.
oh, your jihoon.
he had passed away almost two months ago, and it had been hard for you to even talk about him without crying. soonyoung, jihoon's best friend, had allowed you to live with him until you felt you could go back to the apartment without pausing a few steps short of the door, afraid you would cry again.
soonyoung silently reached for the light switch, turning the lights on to reveal the apartment in its haunting silence. jihoon's music sat on the countertop, pencil on the paper as if nothing had ever happened.
"i can't believe he's really gone, soonyoung," you say softly, voice blending in with the hum of the fridge.
"me neither." soonyoung says from the entrance, voice matching your tone as he stares at a picture frame you explicitly remember putting there when you first got it. it was a picture of you and jihoon, sitting on a grand piano together as he kissed you.
he had called the picture cheezy every time he walked by the frame, but you could tell he loved it, especially with the way he ran his fingers over it every time he left the apartment.
"jihoon supposedly "hated" that picture," you laugh, running your hand along the cold countertops of the kitchen as your eyes darted to the many pictures hanging on the wall.
jihoon's smiling face stared back at you in every one, eyes sparkling and soft face round and sweet as the moments replayed clearly in your head—moments you had almost forgotten.
the love you felt for jihoon had started to fade over these past few weeks, whether you wanted it to or not. you had started to forget how he called you by your name, and how he always wrote songs for you and sang them to you as you fell asleep.
you had started to forget how warm jihoon's arms felt around your body at night, and how much joy you found in teasing jihoon until he blushed an embarrassed pink.
"i'm forgetting him, soonyoung. i—all the memories i had with him are fading." you sigh, voice shaking as tears fill your eyes again. even trying to say jihoon's name aloud sounds wrong now, and you lean against the countertop, trying to steady yourself.
soonyoung is coming to your side quickly, pulling you in for a hug as he sighs against you. the both of you were out of your comfort zone, stepping into what was now just a memory of long ago. jihoon wasn't here anymore—he would never come back, no matter how much you wished he could.
"no matter how many memories you claim to be forgetting, i know you never will. you and jihoon..." he trails off, voice starting to shake as you feel one of his tears fall on your cheek, connecting you in a way you had never wanted.
you didn't want this—you had never wanted soonyoung like that. you wanted jihoon. you wanted jihoon to be holding you, his sweet tears falling on your cheek.
"you'll always remember jihoon. he was too much to you to just forget. he was too much to us to forget." soonyoung pulls away, staring at you with an emotion you so easily recognized. it was the same emotion jihoon had when staring at you.
it was love.
not jihoon's love. not his admiration or appreciation for you, but soonyoung's. soonyoung's love.
genre/warnings - non idol au, fluff, romance, set in some music academy maybe, kissing, skinship
summary - seungkwan doesn't know if he wants to live or die.
wc - 1.4k
A/N - my seungkwan simp era forced me to write this!!! i can't get over how tangerine he truly is ಥ‿ಥ as usual, a huge thank you to my bbangi for proofreading this! @kissbyoon
| @maestro-net
Seungkwan couldn't believe his life.
He was stiffened in the backseat of the cab, staring straight ahead as he tried to not move an inch. Your head was on his shoulder, and he could feel you softly breathing as you slept. It fogged his mind — the proximity, and the events of the whole day.
It had started simply. In his head, he was planning various ways to ask you out. To give in to his complex feelings.
But the moment he saw you standing in the vocal room beside some guy whose name he couldn’t remember, he lost his cool.
In the next two minutes, that guy was somehow out of the room, and he was the one standing beside you with his chest heaving up in heavy breaths.
It came out as a reflex. God knows, he would have never asked someone out like that. On instinct, in desperation, in a fucking vocal room. Boo Seungkwan was usually better than that.
“Hey Seung—”
“Will you go out with me?”
He could hear the distant caws of several crows as you stared up at him. Your face was undeniably warm, and your heart was threatening to jump out of your chest. “What?”
He blinked in realization, and instinctively slapped his fingers on his mouth thrice, punctuating his words with the hits. “This stupid mouth.”
You couldn't help but bite your lip to control the chuckle that bursted out of your mouth. He laughed a little alongside you if only to ease the embarrassment he felt. His cheeks were red, as he turned to face away from you, shutting his eyes tight. “I'm sorry. I should stop making such jokes.”
You had a little disappointing pout on your face, as you tilted your head to get a clearer look of his avoidant face. “Was that a joke?”
Seungkwan turned back towards you in a jolt, and you stepped back at the impact, your eyes wide. He looked at you, stunned. “Sorry, uh— yes?” He chuckled awkwardly. “It would be pretty offensive if it wasn't a joke. I wouldn't dream of offending you, Y/N.”
“Is that how you treat all girls?” You asked, raising a brow. “You ask them out as a joke? Because there are many who seem to be attracted to you.”
He shook his head instantly, shaking his hands to confirm his denial with another awkward laugh. “Not at all! I don't do that. No. You're just exaggerating. Nobody is attracted to me.”
“I am.” You said, a sweet smile blooming on your face despite the blush coating your cheeks. If the sudden increase in Seungkwan’s heartbeat caused him an attack, he'd have had to blame you.
You took a tiny step closer to him, feeling somewhat small in his intimidating presence despite the extreme dust of pink on his round cheeks. “Too bad it was a joke. I would've loved to—”
“Wait. Stop.” Seungkwan said, his hand involuntarily reaching upto his racing heart. He let out an unbelievable chuckle, opening his mouth to speak several times, but failing at it. “You mean— you—” he gestured between the two of them. “And me. You mean—”
“You're making this very awkward, Seungkwan.” You let out in between a fit of disbelieving giggles, and he couldn't help but giggle along with you, his feet stomping on the ground.
“Oh my God.”
“Oh God, you like me?! You will go out with me?”
You reached ahead to hit his arm, keeping a finger on your lips. “Hey, keep it low!”
He widened his big eyes, leaning down a little to look into your scared eyes. “Why? Do you not want anyone to know?”
You bit your lip, looking down and holding onto the corner of his sleeve as a reflex. “No. I just—” Your voice lowered to a whisper, as you met his eyes. “I'm shy.”
Seungkwan could die right there. He shut his eyes, and took a deep breath, before holding you by your shoulders. “Y/N. Let me ask again just to be sure. Will you go on a date with me?”
You smiled almost blindingly, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “Of course, you biteable tangerine!”
Seungkwan died right there. And he didn't know how he managed to take you out on a date right then. He didn't know how he managed your smiles and giggles all the while you both ate at your favourite café that he instantly said yes to and paid for.
You were so oblivious to all the chaos inside him, giving him crazy flutters so casually by just doing as much as passing him his drink. Seungkwan couldn't believe how down bad he was until you fell asleep on his shoulder on the way back.
“Please stay till she wakes up herself.”
And now he couldn't move, could hardly even breathe. He was grateful that the roads weren't very noisy, because if you woke up, he would have to feel your existence again. He wasn't ready for killing himself like that yet.
When the cab stopped at her apartment building, he signalled the cab driver to shush. The old man cocked a brow at him and what started was a barely whispered, poor sign conversation.
“I cannot wake her up. She is too peaceful. Will you please cooperate?”
“????”
“I did not get paid for this, sir. Please go make her sleep at home.”
“I will pay you extra. Please just shush.”
That seemed to shut the old man up, and it took around another half an hour till you seemed to move a little, opening your eyes and looking up at him.
Seungkwan pretended to look out of the window, like he wasn't just staring at you and waiting for you to wake up.
“Sorry, I fell asleep,” you spoke in you sleep laced voice. He looked at you, raising his brows as if he was surprised to see you up. “Oh! No, don't be sorry. We're here, though. Let's get off.”
He slammed all of the cash he had in the driver's hand, giving him a tight-lipped smile before turning to you. You smiled lazily at him, and Seungkwan found himself wondering if this was going to be his new normal.
The cab sped away from you, leaving the rustle of the leaves the only sound behind you both.
“Thank you for today,” you muttered, once again holding his face in your hands. He felt a queue of wild butterflies fly around in his stomach, as he failed to control his shy smile. “It was nothing. I'll take you out on a better date, I promise.”
You chuckled, pressing on his face a little to squish his cheeks. “It was perfect.”
Seungkwan raised his hands a little to hold you, but his arms fell back to his sides in hesitation. He bit his lip, smiling against your hands and failed to realize what he should do or say next.
“Wow I—” he shut his eyes when your hands left his face and you tilted your head to gauge his expressions. He ran a hand on his face in near frustration. “I feel so nervous. This is the first time that I feel so flustered!”
He threw his hands in the air, groaning. “See! Everybody calls me boo all the time. But you saying it just— makes me—”
He felt something extremely soft against his lips, and it made his eyes shut tight. When they opened, you were right in his space, smiling up at him. “Sorry. You're cute. And my boyfriend now. I can do that, right?”
You giggled, holding onto his arm and rubbing it to soothe him. “Relax, boo. It's okay. It's just me.”
He blinked, opening his mouth to say something but failing miserably. His ears felt hot, extremely hot, and he didn't understand why his body was doing this to him, but he felt foreign to all these sensations.
“Hmm?”
He nodded, as if he was desperate to feel the touch again. This time, his hesitation slipped away, and his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
“You can do it anytime since I'm your boyfriend now.” He murmured, smiling softly at you with a flustered edge to it. You squealed a little, hitting him with a fist before letting your head fall on his chest.
im trying to cook up something and i honestly dont know how it will go HAHAHAH
my bad abt my inactivity after dropping some fire stuff, the csc one is doing NUMBERS im shocked.... thank you for the love teehee i really appreciate it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (im very happy hehe)
