║A series of short smut one-shots inspired by ENHYPEN's members random clips/pics.
pairing : soft dom!jake x f!reader
genre : smut (mdni), established relationship.
content : fingering, overstimulation, praising.
wc : 0.3k
note : when i saw that clip of Jake saying "we gotta communicate" oh loooord I’m so easy for him, I JUST KNOOOOOW HE TALKS YOU THROUGH IT. I was immediately thinking of making a series of smut inspired by enhypen's random clips that make me ARGHHHH. Enjoy pookies ;) THERE'S MORE TO COME.
Your vision was swimming, a messy blur of tears and sweat. You lay sprawled on the sheets, your body a trembling wreck, completely oversensitive. He was still there, his fingers buried deep inside you, relentless and slow, teasing that spot that had already brought you to the brink three times tonight.
"Don't close your legs," Jake commanded softly, his voice vibrating against your inner thigh. He held your legs open with his shoulders, his dark eyes locked onto your face, searching for every reaction. "Look at me."
You tried to focus, but your mind was shattered. The pleasure was a heavy ache that spiked every time his thumb brushed your clit. "Jake..." you choked out, your voice barely a whisper. "Too much."
"Too much?" He chuckled, a low sound that made your toes curl. His fingers curled slightly inside you, crooking just right to drag a ragged moan from your throat. "You came three times, baby. You can take a little more."
He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that tasted of desperation. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing heavy. "Does it feel good?" he asked, his thumb stroking your cheek. "Tell me."
You couldn't form words. You just nodded frantically, your head turning into the pillow.
"Yes or no, Y/N," he insisted, his tone shifting from sweet to demanding. He stopped moving his fingers for a second, just holding you open, which was absolute torture. "We need communication here. I need to know what you're feeling."
"Yes," you gasped, your hips bucking up against his hand involuntarily. "It feels...oh god, it feels so good."
"That's my girl," he praised, his thumb pressing hard against your sensitive bundle of nerves. "But you look like you're about to pass out. Are you okay?"
"I'm...I don't know," you cried out as he started a rhythm again, fast and shallow. "I can't...I'm so full."
"You're so fucking tight around me," he groaned. "Look at how you're clenching. You love it, don't you?"
"I do," you whimpered, your back arching off the bed. "I can't stop."
"Then don't," he commanded, kissing your neck, his teeth grazing the skin. "Just let it happen. Let me take care of you. We can do this all night if you want. Just tell me you're okay, baby."
a brief inquiry into online relationships – k. sunwoo
pairing: kim sunwoo x fem! reader
genre: enemies to lovers au, internet best friends au. friends to lovers au. gamer! sunwoo and gamer! reader. fluff, comedy. sunwoo has a big fat crush and is a bitchless loser but is also simultaneously being very annoying and mean sometimes:(
wc: 20k
warnings: swearing, sexual innuendos/jokes/flirting, the reader is referred to with she/her pronouns and called a girl! i call league players virgins :/ (and im right). certain parts are really chat heavy (but what do you expect from an internet best friend au am i right). the reader is said to have dyed hair! I wrote this with a friend in mind yall just get to read it 😔
there's only one person kim sunwoo treasures the most in the whole world, and that person is his internet best friend. there's also only one person kim sunwoo hates with a burning passion, and that person is you. well, imagine his surprise when he finds out... they are the same person.
playlist: fruit roll ups - waterparks / royalty - enhypen
I wrote and dedicate this fic to @csenke 🩷 happy birthday best friend, I hope you like your little present. I dont like being sappy in public, but do know that I love u the absolute most.
a/n: a HUGE thank you to @from-izzy for beta reading and helping me out with this fic so much, listening to me ramble and cry and hyping me up izzy, it means a LOT. thank you @sanaxo-o for beta reading a bit as well. 🫶🏻 ive wanred to write this fic for literally years so im glad it is finally out hihi.
The first time Kim Sunwoo has ever been accused of having a crush on a girl he hasn’t even met in real life yet was on October 11th, 2023. It was a few months after meeting the said girl online through a Minecraft server and talking to her during the night over a Discord call, not being able to fall asleep after and coming to class looking like a zombie from the deprivation of relaxation. After he said the story to his friend Changmin, he got laughed at and teased– all because he said he didn’t want to hang up on his online best friend yet, and she was so full of energy, and Sunwoo wanted to know what she had to say because she was so adorable gushing over how much she loved Paw Patrol as a kid and how she got some magnets for her fridge from her local grocery store and put Skye right in the middle, where she keeps her shopping list.
Of course, Sunwoo refused this accusation. He does not have a crush on his online best friend– the girl he hasn’t even met in real life yet. He doesn’t like her, because let’s be real, he doesn’t even know what she looks like. Navigating the boundaries of an online friendship was already hard as it was for the boy– was he oversharing? Was he being too much, too annoying at times? – so asking for the girl’s socials outside of Discord or begging for a simple selfie in the chat is far away from the things he’s comfortable saying out loud to her.
And Sunwoo can’t be into her– because he doesn’t even know her that well. He doesn’t even know where she lives or if the name she’s given him online is her legal name. What he does know, though, is that she’s the same age as him, she’s funny and pretty fucking cool, she has obscure interests like the Spiderman movies or collecting albums of her favorite kpop artists, and her voice is nice over the speakers of his laptop when the two of them call and play Minecraft together in the late hours of the night.
That’s not enough to develop a crush on someone, right?
Right…?
The first time Kim Sunwoo starts to question his own feelings for his friend is also, coincidentally, October 11th 2023. See, he might say that he’s not as dull as one would think after looking at him, but after the conversation he had with his best friend in the morning, something started to click. (Mainly because he just couldn’t stop feeling the blush creeping onto his cheeks, bashfulness filling his composure. Why is it so hard to deny the obvious?)
In the late hours of the night, Sunwoo logs onto the Minecraft server and walks around the world he’s created. He is on a mission of cheering his online friend up– she said something about an exam going terribly wrong in his Discord DM’s just a few hours ago, and although he tried his best to cheer the girl up over messages, he thinks he has to go an extra mile to remind her that life is not as rude and that she’s loved even when she feel like a disappointment. (Just the sentiment of the wording in his head is suggesting that he’s trying to stay oblivious to his own feelings– there is no doubt he is failing, though.)
He checks the people online in the server, noticing she’s not there yet– as he expected, since the girl usually logs on only a few minutes before midnight– which assures him that there is still time to execute his little plan. With a pep to his step, Sunwoo’s character moves through the terribly half-assed house he’s built (that his friend teases him for) and opens one of the chests in his underground storage area. After taking everything he prepared earlier– for whatever reason, he’s not sure (or just trying to deny the obvious, once again)– he skips outside of the wooden building and runs towards the portal he built leading to her house last week.
Once she saw the portal outside of her house, she asked him about it. To the question of why he wants easy access to her house at all times, he replied that it’s so he can rob her when she least expects it. Her and him both know she’s not the one keen on mining, so there’s not really much to steal in the first place, but to Sunwoo’s surprise (and relief), his friend dropped the topic quickly, moving on to the next one.
After the vision of his character finally clears and he is left standing right outside of her house– which is a stunning piece of architecture, by the way– he looks around for a bit to find the best place for his little offering.
He settles on the place by the front door of her house and gets to executing his little surprise. Opening the inventory of his character, Sunwoo takes out a bone meal and uses it on the grass blocks next to the door, making all sorts of flowers grow next to her humble abode. When he’s satisfied with the colored petals blooming in their digital world, the boy gets out the pink wool and digs into the remaining dirt blocks on the ground, replacing them with the rosy cubes and shaping them into a small, but telling heart.
He stands back and admires his work for a bit, laughing at the ridiculous actions he caught himself doing. Sometimes he gains self-awareness in the weirdest of situations, and this is surely one of them– he prays his friend doesn’t log on in this exact moment. He would have no other choice but to jump out of his window and kill himself, he thinks.
Still, he follows up with his initial idea and places a chest next to the heart, filled with emerald and diamonds that he gathered over the last week. He worked hard on them and she kept whining that she still didn't have any– and although he’d like to keep them, he figures he can just get more the next time he’s alone in here, mining.
A cherry on top is placed next to all of this– a wooden sign that he types “What if we put our Minecraft beds next to each other? xx” on, against all his thoughts telling him otherwise.
This might be a terrible, terrible idea, he thinks. But the thought of making his best friend smile fuels the boy. Taking one last look at his masterpiece, he snickers. Yeah, Sunwoo. Maybe there really is no getting out of those allegations. Maybe he won’t tell about what he did to Changmin– and he’s lucky the boy doesn’t play Minecraft and has no way of finding out by playing on the same server as the two of you.
Sunwoo logs out of the game, sitting back in his chair. After scrolling through his Instagram for a bit, he hears the familiar sound of an incoming Discord call waking him up from the doom, making him breathlessly accept and wait for the girl’s voice to come out of his headphones, making him feel excited and on the tips of his toes.
“Ya, Steve, was it you who made that cute altar in front of my house?” she asks, making his heart skip a beat.
“Depends,” he hums, “did you like it?”
Every Tuesday afternoon, 6 o’clock sharp, Kim Sunwoo takes the role of the head of the Video Gaming club at his university. It’s quite an easy job, he’d say– since all his responsibilities lay in meeting up with the members of the club in an internet café once a week, playing a video game of their liking– and he also appreciates the fact that he has something to put onto his CV. The extra points towards graduation are also good, and so in reality, he has nothing to complain about– he likes video games and he also likes socializing.
There is just one thing he hates about the Video Gaming club, and that is the fact that Y/N Y/L/N, his best friend’s ex-girlfriend, managed to somehow infiltrate herself into the circle.
Now, you and Ji Changmin dated in the early stages of high school. The two of you met in Science class, and although Changmin wasn’t the smartest when it came to Chemistry, he still managed to make himself your designated helper in all experiments, just to make himself close to you. That slowly worked and the two of you started dating– for 2 months, that is– before you realized Sunwoo’s poor best friend wasn’t who you were looking for and you broke up with him, starting a new relationship with Park Sunghoon, the handsome ice skater from the private school downtown just 2 weeks later.
Changmin cried for three days straight and then one more day after he found out he was replaced, and since then, Kim Sunwoo has decided that he hates your guts– because no one makes his best friend sad.
Every Tuesday afternoon, 6 o’clock sharp, you waltz into the internet café with your friend Aeri clinging to your side, both of you laughing about whatever you found amusing that day. The sound of your laughter is insufferable to Sunwoo’s ears and the sight of your dyed hair makes his stomach churn with acid– everything about you angers the boy, makes him all alert of your presence. For some reason, he can’t control his anger around you– everything you do infuriates him, makes him wish you were anywhere but in the same room as him.
Can’t you read the room? Do you not realize you’re not welcome here? This is Sunwoo’s territory, and for some reason, he thinks you should respect it. You haven’t spoken to each other in over 4 years, but that doesn’t mean he forgot about everything. Maybe you just keep showing up because you know he hates your guts– you do it out of spite.
Kim Sunwoo won’t have that, though. If there’s something about him that he makes perfectly known in the Video Gaming club, it’s that he is awfully competitive– and for once, he tries to use this quality of his for something good: getting you out of the club.
Because he might be the head of the club, sure, but that still doesn’t give him the permission to kick you out of it for no apparent reason.
He figures making your life a living hell for the entire hour or two you’re in his presence every week would surely be sufficient enough. Surely, one day, you must have enough.
“There’s someone behind you, dude, watch out–” Intak calls from next to Sunwoo, helping his teammate out.
Today’s game of choice is CS:GO– too bad for you, Kim Sunwoo is exceptional at shooting games.
He watches his screen and moves his mouse swiftly, shooting the opponent– he thinks it might’ve been Jaehyun or Chan– before they even have a chance at spotting him. His team– Terrorists– are winning by a mile, coincidentally having the best of the best in the group. He’s playing a perfect 5v5 game alongside Intak, Haechan, Yeji and…. and you.
“Do you even have your screen on, Y/N?” he grunts from behind his computer, glaring at the screen. He notices you not really killing any opponents, and even though he understands that not everyone is going to be the best at every video game that gets played over the course of semester, he’s making sure to trash talk you each and every time you’re even an inch away from perfect.
“Fuck off, I’m trying.”
“Doesn’t seem like it,” he snickers, pointing his gaze towards you only for a split second to watch you roll your eyes at his comment. An annoyed sigh escapes your throat, making the boy’s veins reek with satisfaction.
“We’re winning anyway, so I don’t get why you’re so pressed about it,” you grunt, tucking your hair behind your ear as you play, momentarily taking your hand off the mouse.
Sunwoo notices your character in his point of view on the monitor– the nickname ‘ceo.Y/N’ shining proudly over the default skin of the terrorist figurine– when a bright, spiteful idea sparks up in his brain. The boy realizes he left the friendly fire option on when assembling the game room, and with that, he’s set on his decision.
You don’t deserve anything nice in Kim Sunwoo’s eyes– which is why he shoots you in the head the first moment he sees you, laughing to himself.
“Yeah, no thanks to you,” he comments as he watches your character drop to the ground.
“What the fuck?! Yo, why did you do that?” you gasp, snapping your head around to point your daggers of eyes onto the boy, frustration dripping off your face. It does nothing to ruin the mood of the satisfied boy, only making him shrug and offer you his brightest smirk.
“You weren’t contributing anything to the game anyway,” he shrugs, “might as well sit this one out, Y/L/N.”
Yes. This one surely will teach you a lesson.
When Kim Sunwoo reaches his room after his shower– at 1 in the morning sharp and feeling too awake for the late hour, since all the hot water ran out due to his roommate’s greediness (curse Eric Sohn’s long ass showers)– he notices a notification shining on his phone in bright light, making him reach for his phone with curiosity. He doesn’t have many friends that would reach out to him at the late hours of the evening, since he talks to most of them during the day anyway, and so even subconsciously, as he reaches for his phone, he expects to see his online best friend’s username pop up in the notification bar.
And he was right– clicking on the Discord notification waiting for him at the top of the screen, he already feels his heart skipping a beat, his insides flowing with immediate warmth despite the cold shower he took just a few minutes ago.
Further shaking out the water out of his hair before plopping onto his bed and reading through the girl’s messages, the boy finds himself smiling at her profile picture. It’s a close up of her Minecraft character standing in front of the little display he put out for her– and he can’t help but feel like this is some sort of a soft launch. Of what, he doesn’t really know– since the two of them are far from dating– but that’s okay. It satisfies him enough. Nobody even really knows it’s him who she’s showing off, but to him, it holds the weight of the whole entire world.
sunpoodle [0:22] – a missed voice call
sunpoodle [0:35] – a missed voice call
sunpoodle [0:36] – so u dont like me anymore
sunpoodle [0:38] – i see how it is
sunpoodle [0:48] – everything ok tho?
sunpoodle [0:54] – a missed voice call
Squinting at the screen, Sunwoo starts to type out his reply to his friend. Before he has the chance to click send, though, his phone lights up with the incoming voice call from her, leaving him to accept it almost immediately. He hears her voice coming out of his speaker after a few seconds of silence, having his ears perk up and heart beat a little faster.
“Damn, took you long enough,” she hums, making the poor boy chuckle. “I thought you were either dead or ignoring me.”
“I wasn’t,” he replies before settling deeper into his bed, going as far as putting a blanket over him to provide himself the most comfort, “I would never ignore you,” he lets himself speak out, a full body cringe taking over him the second he realizes just how far gone and infatuated he must sound with his friend.
“Oh, okay,” she says, “I was getting kinda worried, though.”
“Worried?”
“Yeah, we didn’t speak at all the whole day,” she replies. And she’s right– Sunwoo was too busy the whole day to text her or check in with her throughout the day. He was working on his assignments with Changmin and Juyeon in the library, and then he had to listen to Eric talk about his crush on the new girl from the café he works at. Before he knew it, it was late in the night and all he wanted to do was shower and go to sleep– his plan was thrown into the bin the moment he got back into his room, though.
He might have not put his online friend as his priority during the day but if it comes to sacrificing sleep for her, he won’t even think twice.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he mumbles, although something inside of him cheers at the fact that she cares about him enough to want his presence every day.“I was just busy with assignments and socializing.”
“You do that?”
“Strange, isn’t it?” he chuckles, poking fun at himself. There’s no doubt of him being an extrovert, but for the sake of hearing the girl laugh through his speaker– his insides squeezing on themselves with violent tenderness at the sound (what a contradiction)– he is content with simply ignoring the fact.
“What’s up, though?” he asks. “You usually don’t call and I have to pressure you into picking up in some way.”
“That’s not true.”
“Kind of is, when you think about it–”
“I just like to be persuaded,” she hums, making the boy chuckle.
“Noted,” he says– and it might’ve been just a figure of speech, really, but there is a secret folder inside of his brain that he calls the girl-he-likes-folder, where he keeps all the information and random facts he learns about his friend safely, until he has a chance to use them. “But really, what is it? You seem uneasy,” he notes, making the girl laugh softly on the other end of the line.
There is some shuffling on the other side before he finally hears her voice again. Sunwoo furrows his brows at the ruckus, but he doesn’t mention it– maybe she’s just moving around the room, doing her own things as she talks to him on the phone. It makes his brain wander, though– imagining her cleaning her room, putting things away. Stacking some old papers or throwing stuff into the trash can. The image of his friend is always hazy in his mind– he was never really the most imaginative when it came to stuff he doesn’t know– but he still feels attracted to the girl in ways he can’t explain without sounding absolutely crazy to an outsider’s ear. He has no clear idea of her features– he doesn’t know how long her hair is, what her figure looks like, or what color her eyes are, but he still knows that to him, she’s absolutely beautiful and no reality he could see would break this image he has of her.
The fact that she’s calling him while going on with her life, as if he is an active, real part of it, makes him smile to himself. Every time the girl acknowledges her friendship with him, he feels like he’s on Cloud 9– he doesn’t really know why he needs that validation, though.
“This might sound stupid, but I just wanted to hear your voice,” she says nonchalantly through the speakers of his phone, and with that, Sunwoo is a goner. He feels the world stop turning for a while, his breath hitching in his throat. Something about the girl’s words makes his head spin and thoughts run laps around the walls of his skull– is it just him, or does that sentence sound strangely intimate?
“Why?” he asks on autopilot– because the annoying voice inside of him needs answers.
“Hm? Oh, I dunno,” she quickly utters out before she makes a sharp turn in the conversation, completely disregarding her previous statement, “did I tell you about that party I’m invited to this weekend?” she asks instead, making the boy shake his head in disbelief and throw his face into his pillow to stop himself from screaming.
“No,” he sighs, “but tell me now.”
“Okay, so–”
The rest of their conversation is drowned out by his thoughts. Don’t get him wrong, he is actively listening to what she has to say– how she doesn’t know what to wear and she’s not sure if she wants to match with her best friend– but he is also subconsciously focused on the fact that the way she talks in her low tone, keeping her voice down to not wake up her roommate next door. It makes the atmosphere that much more sincere and intimate. He finds himself admiring his friend’s excitement and joy, the energy she has when she talks about how her day went and how she can’t stay keeping up with one topic for long– getting lost in the track somewhere along the way, making Sunwoo remind her what she was even talking about in the first place. Everything about the girl is mesmerizing to the boy, and before he has a chance to notice, he’s falling asleep to her rambling on the phone, eyelids heavy in comfort and sleepiness.
“Are you still there?” she asks, receiving only a soft hum from the boy on the other side. “Am I boring you?”
“No,” he half-whispers, “I’m just comfortable. Keep talking,” he says, hugging his pillow to his chest and putting the phone next to his head. He hears a soft scoff on the other side of the line, a kind, sweet voice lullying him further into dreamland.
“Okay, keep using me as your bed time story, then,” she jokes, a tint of faux offense in her tone, “I’ll disconnect the call when you stop giving me fakely interested hums after every other sentence.”
And with that, Kim Sunwoo falls asleep to his online best friend talking his ear off on a Discord call. How could she ever think that wanting to hear his voice was stupid? He understands– he thinks that perhaps, he’d choose listening to her even over hearing his favorite song.
The idea of teaching you a lesson with his competitive nature is quickly thrown into the bin when the next week comes as the game his friends choose for the afternoon is one that he is not fond of. Why does he not like this game, you may ask? Well, simply put– he is absolutely terrible at it.
The love for League of Legends is a telling sign of someone’s virginity, though, so Sunwoo thinks he can take pride in the fact that he is not a bitchless loser by playing it in his free time. (Don’t mention the fact that he is a Discord user and currently does not have a girlfriend. He will ignore it for the sake of his reputation.)
“I’ll go bottom,” Intak says as he chooses his champion in the lobby, making Sunwoo huff. He’s not really good at playing the mage, he’s terribly, terribly bad at going jungle, and tanks and fighters are equally as easy for him to play as learning the Pi number by heart (very difficult). Soon enough though, he finds that the rest of the roles are quickly divided in his team, and that leaves him nothing else to do than to just humbly take the responsibility of the middle lane, equipping the only champion he’s played before– Fizz.
With him locking in his character, the image on his monitor morphs into the loading screen, letting him once again scan the names that belong to his team. Having 10 members in the club is easy enough to divide into two teams by 5, which he is thankful for, but the teams are almost always randomly selected– which makes him angry only at times where he gets the obviously weaker players.
This time around, surrounded by Intak and Yangyang teaming up on the bottom, Soobin taking over the jungle and Yeji resigning on the top lane, Sunwoo is satisfied to see he at least doesn’t share a team with you this time around– because that means he can do everything in his power to make your life a living hell while playing the game.
“Try not to die in the first few seconds, Sunwoo,” Soobin snickers as the game starts and the boy aimlessly moves towards the middle of the map, moving his character with the mouse. Sunwoo only salutes at the taller boy, making him giggle.
“I’ll try not to, boss!”
Sunwoo’s quest in this game is to protect the tower and farm as much as he can– so that destroying the opponent’s tower is easier and opens up the shortest way to the enemy. After seeing how his character moves in the game– don’t make fun of him but after so much time since he last played the game, he’s forgotten– he puts his head into his hands and mourns, noticing that he foolishly chose an assassin. It’s not that they’re bad per se, it’s just that Kim Sunwoo is much better at League of Legends when he has some distance from the opponent. Which, when he wants to attack, is not a feature Fizz awards him with.
Much to his surprise though, the middle lane seems to be empty. There is no one from the opposite team walking up to him and trying to start combat, and that puts him at ease. Maybe he can do his job right– for at least a few minutes before the tower is damaged enough that the enemy realizes they need to protect it.
And so clueless Sunwoo enters the circle under the tower, attacking it with the red minions by his side, veins flowing with satisfaction that hey– maybe he will be successful with something in this game. He surely doesn’t need the validation of his team, but look– all he needs is to not embarrass himself in the process of playing this game. His pride is precious to him.
The talk around the internet café slowly drowns out around him, providing him only a background noise. He doesn’t need to listen to his team’s strategy– he knows he isn’t really included in it, as the weakest link. Hyperfocusing on the game, he almost jumps when two characters suddenly appear from the bushes– not skilled enough, Sunwoo didn’t think to check them when he arrived in the middle of the map– attacking him.
The nicknames aerichandesu and ceo.y/n shine proudly above the characters of Annie and Vi, both of the females cornering him and making him scowl at the screen. You don’t do much damage to him, he notices, but there is something about the way Aeri plays that tells him that he is royally fucked in this game.
Only a few seconds of combat pass before the banner saying First blood appears on the top of the screen, embarrassing him and making the rest of the team laugh at his death. He finally acknowledges that he was tricked, and as the seconds pass of him waiting to be revived, his eyes meet yours from across the room– and oh how he wishes to wipe that smirk off your face.
“As expected,” Soobin chirps from Sunwoo’s right, making the poor boy sigh and cross his arms defensively at his chest.
“They teamed up on me!”
“That’s the point, sweetheart,” Yeji hums from the corner of the room, “you’d know that if you knew how to play.”
“Oh, shut up, you losers…” he grunts as his character revives, making him hurriedly move towards his designated place again, noticing his team’s tower slowly falling apart due to leaving you in there unwatched.
Once he appears back under his tower, he watches you retract from your place. Sunwoo takes this as his opportunity to show you that one on one, you’re not going to win against him– and so he chimes forward after you, using Fizz’s trident to deal you magic damage over the next couple of seconds. The clicking of his mouse onto your character resonates through the crowded café and the banners showing his teammate’s successful kills do nothing to help him focus on the task at hand– but your health bar is slowly dropping, and that satisfies the male.
“Not so strong without Aeri now, are you?” he teases, watching as you aimlessly start to run away from him, no longer focusing on killing his character.
He doesn’t get a verbal reply from you, but one thing is certain– the poor male forgot to keep a check of his own health bar, and while chasing after you with greediness, wanting to be the one to get you down, he foolishly gets shot down by the enemy minion following him. The kill is still written off to you though, and when his screen freezes with the death announcement, he watches you cheer– eyes glimmering and a victorious smile spreading across your cheeks– before you high-five with your best friend to your right.
Turns out that maybe you don’t need Aeri to carry you in League of Legends. At least not when it’s Kim Sunwoo you’re playing against– and that puts him at a big of a disadvantage.
Is this how you feel every time he conspires against you? Because if so, he has to applaud you– you have an awfully big patience. He can handle it for one Tuesday out of the semester, but if he was in your place, he’d be running away from the room the moment he dies in the game again, all because of you.
Running around, out of breath and heaving for oxygen, Kim Sunwoo starts to contemplate if all of this was even a good idea. He should’ve known the whole thing was bound to be a failure when the first mishaps started happening, but against his best assumptions, he decided to go on with it and try to figure things out.
The first thing wrong with this whole entire thing is that it wasn’t even his idea in the first place. Hyunjae suggested that the whole friend group goes to play laser tag at the end of the week, to wind off a little before finals. And Sunwoo agreed– because that sounds like a lot of fun, doesn’t it?– and expected to just read out the details of it in the groupchat. He thought turning up to the place would be the only thing he had to do, but oh how he was wrong.
Lee Hyunjae decided he didn’t really feel like going to laser tag on the single day where all of them were free– which meant that they either cancel the whole thing or go without him. And since Eric Sohn was all too excited for the idea, Sunwoo decided he won’t disappoint his dear roommate– in fears of getting sabotaged or killed in his sleep if he declines– leading into making Kim Sunwoo being in charge of the whole thing because as the only Aries of the group, he takes his leadership seriously when he has to.
And so he sucked it up and called the laser tag place, asking for a reservation for 5. Another failure hit him in the face when he was announced that they can only let them play if they have a group of ten people, and before he had the chance to let the rational part of his brain take over and cancel the plans, he was left agreeing and saying he will find 5 more people to come with them.
Sunwoo figured that Eric, as the born extrovert, will have no problem finding 5 more people for the laser tag game. He was wrong, though, when his friend announced that all of his friends magically have some plans for that exact Friday– he thought that there’s a party that somehow, only the loser friend group he is partaking in wasn’t attending, for some reason– and Eric could only think of one person that would come, which left Sunwoo with solving the issue of finding 4 more people to come to play laser tag with him.
So he brought out the big guns– the Video Gaming club group chat.
sunwhooo [9:31]: hello friends i need 4 people to join us for laser tag tomorrow
sunwhooo [9:31]: anyone down meet us there at 5pm
And with that, he considered the task done. Too over with the whole thing and too tired of being the only one with common sense in his friend group, he didn’t check who agreed to his invitation. He figured that someone will either show up, or they will shamefully go home. Which option it’s gonna be is the problem of the day after– in this moment, he needed sleep.
He appeared in front of the laser tag arena on Friday, 4:45 sharp, waiting for his group to arrive. He felt like one of those tour guides in the middle of big cities– all he was missing was a flag in his hand, or an umbrella– either or– waving around and calling out for his friends. Five minutes after him, Changmin and Juyeon arrived, tailed by Eric and a boy that’s introduced to him as Jake Sim– who is, just by the way, a carbon copy of Sunwoo’s dear roommate both with energy and some of their small mannerisms.
Five minutes before they were supposed to enter the arena and get the safety tutorial on how to play, 2 members of his club came up, smiling widely ear to ear. If Sunwoo had to guess who would say yes to his invitation the fastest, Myung Jaehyun and Lee Donghyuck would be first in line– and he was right.
“Where’s the rest of you?” he asked after greeting the boys, and right in this moment, after hearing their reply, was when he knew he should’ve canceled the plans the moment Lee Hyunjae turned down his own offer.
“Y/N and Aeri’s bus was late, but they’re on their way now!” Jaehyun said, smiling ear to ear. “Y/N texted you in the groupchat, but I don’t think you saw it.”
“Pretty sure I have her number blocked,” he grunted under his breath, sighing to himself. Was it too late to leave now…?
“What?”
“Nothing.”
And that’s how he ends up in this mess. You and your best friend arrive 2 minutes late, but you’re still let in– much to Sunwoo’s dismay. Everyone seems to be excited– almost too excited– when they choose to play the game in the complete darkness, and before Sunwoo has a chance to protest, he is thrown into the laser tag game, nothing but a laser gun in his hand and a vest with the sensoring clutching to his chest.
He can’t see anything, he’s constantly bumping into the obstacles, the arena is too big for his own liking– because he doesn’t really know where he is and can’t see anyone else, making him feel strangely alone and kind of afraid– and it’s so hot inside that sweat is slowly dripping down his forehead, making him irritated.
Once in a while, he hears a scream from somewhere inside of the arena when two players meet. He contemplates just sitting on the ground and waiting for the game to pass– not really that mad about being the last one in the ranking– but the last remains of his pride are telling him to keep going, to keep trying.
He’s good at shooting games! What is he doing?
Taking a deep breath in and out, he makes a run for it– hoping he won’t be met with the wall and break his neck in the process (now that would really take the crown for the worst thing that could happen in relation to the laser tag), before he’s met with the sound of footsteps in his ears, making him painfully alert of his surroundings.
Turning his head around, trying to see where the sound is coming from and who he has to protect himself from– or shoot and get some points in, that is– he feels his body meeting full speed with another person, a yelp coming out of their throat right before the sound of clothes rustling and body mass hitting the floor resonates through the place.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, dropping the gun, “are you okay?” he asks, genuine concern lacing his tone.
“Watch where you’re going, for fuck’s sake!” he hears your voice call out of him… and the last remains of genuine concern leave his body at that, irritation swimming to the shore.
“How the fuck am I supposed to watch where I’m going when you fuckers chose to play in complete darkness?!” He yells over the music– that is, just for the record, an atrocious EDM remake mix of early 00s songs– and lets his eyes adjust to the darkness for some more, watching the outline of your figure on the ground slowly appear in his retina.
Acting on auto-pilot, though, the boy reaches out an arm towards you, trying to help you to your feet. The view of your face is hazy in his eyes but he can still make out the scowled expression you offer him before you take his hand and let him drag you to a standing position.
“So much sympathy in one man, wow,” you grunt, shaking your head at him once you’re standing tall in front of him. “Wouldn’t hurt to apologize, you know–”
“This clearly wasn’t my fault–”
He starts, but stops himself mid-sentence when he sees you point the laser gun towards him, shooting. The interaction is short– it goes by almost too fast for him to register it– and before he has a chance to let the sensor cool down and aim towards your chest as well, you’re running away from him, full speed skillfully through the maze.
“Hey!” he yells out, but is much slower at following you. Is he doing something wrong? Why is everyone suddenly so good at navigating the space?
And while Kim Sunwoo is competitive– there was an agreement that the last place pays for everyone’s meal after– sometimes, his spirit is overshadowed by his emotions. Frustrated, irritated and a little mad, although he pays much effort into shooting at his opponents and gathering up all the points he lost while he was aimlessly walking through the place like a blind man, he just can’t seem to catch up and crawl out of the last place.
Standing outside of the room and looking at the scoreboard after, having the rest of the team pat his shoulder and thank for the meal, his eyes land on you as you’re the last one to leave the arena aside from him.
“Looks like being good at CS:GO isn’t enough to be good at shooter games in real life, huh?” you tease, pouting at the scoreboard in mock sympathy. “Thank you for the meal, Sunwoo. I’d like a large fry and a cheeseburger, by the way. Make it extra cheese.”
Maybe he should’ve canceled the laser tag the first moment he wanted to.
You know what? Maybe he should cancel the Video Gaming club altogether, while he’s at it.
Sitting around the study room in the library, accompanied by Eric and Changmin arguing about something and enveloped in a gray, fuzzy hoodie, Kim Sunwoo lets himself roll his eyes at the aimless quarreling and puts the hood of his sweater up, leaning back on the uncomfortable chair. After a couple of minutes spent listening to the fight– that’s about the assignment at hand, just for your information– Sunwoo feels himself zoning out of the room before he’s brought back to reality by the buzzing of his phone on the table with the incoming notification.
At this point of the uneventful afternoon, he would’ve replied back to anyone within a few minutes– anything to pass time, he figures– but when his eyes zone in on the name on his screen, he is left clicking at the Discord bar quicker than the speed of light.
sunpoodle [6:44]: can u call rn?
notsteve [6:45]: no
notsteve [6:45]: im at the library rn
notsteve [6:45]: why
“You can’t just completely ignore that point of the essay, because it’s going to look like we didn’t do enough research,” Changmin argues his point in the background, the loud voice of Sunwoo’s roommate almost startling him as he tries to prove otherwise.
“We can’t just include every. single. point. in it, though, or else it’s gonna become a wholeass bible at this point.”
“Better to exceed the word count than to hand in an unfinished essay–”
sunpoodle [6:48]: oh so u hate me
notsteve [6:48]: pretty sure this is emotional manipulation
“What do you think, Sunwoo?” Eric speaks up, turning his head towards the last boy of the three– the only one that hasn’t spoken up about the matter yet. It’s true that he didn’t really do much work on the actual essay yet– only some very, very brief research last night– but that didn’t mean he suddenly felt like doing much more.
“Hm? Me?”
sunpoodle [6:49]: dont care
sunpoodle [6:50]: youre probably with some other bitches
“Yeah,” Changmin chimes in, “say your part. It’s three of us here, so the majority will go. What do you think?”
“Oh, I don’t really care…” Sunwoo hums without much thinking, eyes glued to his phone screen.
notsteve [6:51]: ???
sunpoodle [6:52]: anyways i just wanted to show you my child
sunpoodle [6:52]: but you’re clearly not interested so
“Are you even listening?” Eric asks.
Sunwoo hums in response, automatized. Did the words really register in his brain? You can bet they didn’t.
“Are you texting that online girl again?” Changmin scoffs, Sunwoo’s ears perking up just a little bit at the mention of his friend.
“Yeah.”
notsteve [6:53]: a child???
notsteve [6:53]: is this another sylvanian families toy
sunpoodle [6:54]: no:((
notsteve [6:54]: what is it then
notsteve [6:54]: because we both know youre not responsible enough to have a child
“Still can’t believe you developed a crush on a girl you don’t even know,” Eric sighs from next to him, the previous topic of their conversation long gone when it means he can make fun of his roommate for being absolutely, totally infatuated with a girl in his phone screen.
“How can you even know she’s real?” Changmin jokes. “For all you know, that could be a 50 year old white male trying to get nudes out of you,” he adds, making the shortest boy snort at the comment.
“I don’t have a crush on her,” is all that leaves Sunwoo’s mouth, although his tone is not very argumentative– just mindlessly spoken out, most of his attention still glued to his messenger app.
sunpoodle [6:55]: are you underestimating me??
sunpoodle [6:55]: im offended
sunpoodle [6:56]: might just block u. and here i was considering sending u a pic of my dog…
“Sure you don’t,” Eric sighs, “because you’re totally not smiling like an idiot right now.”
“Shut the fuck up…” Sunwoo breathes out, rolling his eyes. The smile on his face freezes and drops at the unnecessary comment, but his cheeks grow a soft pink hue to them, only further proving his friends’ point.
notsteve [6:56]: A DOG????”,?”
notsteve [6:56]: show it to me
notsteve [6:56]: show it to me rachel!!!!
“When are you going to ask her for a picture or something?” Changmin pries, kicking his friend to his shin under the table.
“When she asks first,” he shrugs, “I don’t wanna sound like a creep.”
“I bet you already do,” Eric jokes, making his roommate glare at him.
“Besides, we call often,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I know she’s not a 50 year old man. And so far, I’m content with this. It’s not like it would be going anywhere in the first place.”
“You don’t know that,” Changmin says, and something about that sentence makes Sunwoo momentarily glance away from his phone screen, furrowing his brows at the male.
“Yeah,” Eric chimes in, “you don’t even know where she lives. For all you know, she could be just down the street and you two could be going on embarrassing lan party dates together, or something.”
“Or– and get this–” Sunwoo ironically argues, “she could live on the other side of the country. Which, logically speaking, is much more likely.”
“You never know until you don’t ask,” Changmin shrugs, “I mean, it doesn't hurt to know.”
Shuffling his feet under the table, Sunwoo thinks to himself. There is a reason why he never really asked his online best friend any personal questions– and that is because he was simply afraid. Afraid of what he might find out.
No matter the distance, it’s scary for Sunwoo to know about his friend’s whereabouts. Because if she lives far, it means the chances of ever meeting her are unlikely. If she lives close, the chances rise– but he’s also completely terrified of the chance to meet her because, to put it blankly, he is petrified of the image his online friend would have of him when she meets him in real life.
Hiding behind the cloak of the internet is much easier for the boy. His friend doesn’t know what he looks like, what his mannerisms are in real life. And it’s not like he is faking his personality online– because truth be told, he’s acting the same way in his Minecraft server then he would in any real life situation– it’s just that he is strangely insecure of if he’d still be liked in the same way, had his friend met up with him in real life. He’s nervous of awkward silence. He’s stressed out about the fact that maybe he won’t click as well with the girl he met online. It’s all strange and new to him, and that’s why he never really dares to ask.
“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “it’s all just kind of weird.”
At this point, he doesn’t know if he fears meeting up with his friend online, or never seeing her with his own two eyes more.
sunpoodle [6:57]: doggo
sunpoodle [6:58] – sends one picture
sunpoodle [7:02]: wow youre ignoring me again
sunpoodle [7:05]: why do i even try at this point…
sunpoodle [7:08]: teaching my dog to bite u if he ever meets u irl
notsteve [7:09]: how are u gonna do that
notsteve [7:10]: BUT OMG THATS SUCH A CUTE DOG
notsteve [7:10]: BEST BOY
sunpoodle [7:11]: i have my ways…
sunpoodle [7:11]: but he says thank u so i guess we will let it go for now
Sunwoo chuckles at your reply, making the rest of the boys in the room look at each other with knowing eyes, shaking their head in disbelief. It’s not that they’re disapproving of their friend’s little (big) crush on the girl he met online– they’re supportive of whatever makes their dear bundle of sunshine happy– they just fear that this whole thing… might not end the best for the young gamer.
notsteve [7:12]: u like me too much to make your dog bite me
notsteve [7:12]: admit it
sunpoodle [7:13]: im resuming with my lecture!!
sunpoodle [7:13]: he is small and fat but he is strong. do be afraid
notsteve [7:14]: all that for not paying attention to you for 5 minutes?
notsteve [7:14]: your actions speak for themselves, honey <33
“Right…” Eric awkwardly clears his throat, calling the attention of the enamoured boy, “shall we dwell deeper into your online relationship, or do you want to help us with the group essay for a change?” He asks while kicking the boy into his shin lightly, to make sure he has his full attention.
“Essay please,” he replies, nodding to himself. There is no way he is going into details of the embarrassing crush he has on the girl living in his phone.
sunpoodle [7:15]: what can i say life isnt fun without my jasper ://
notsteve [7:15]: try not to die as i work on this assignment
sunpoodle [7:16]: dont lie u dont do those
notsteve [7:16]: unfortunately i do:((
notsteve [7:16] – sends one picture
Sunwoo points his camera so only a part of his laptop is shown with the study room in the background– making sure neither his friends or him are in the picture– before sending it to his friend. It’s not like she needs proof– Sunwoo knows that despite the playful teasing, she understands his need to put in some work into his education– he just feels like slowly testing the waters with sharing more and more of his real life with his online best friend.
“Okay, so let’s get back to what we were talking about before,” Changmin says, “I was thinking we should at least briefly talk about the points that are against what we’re trying to argue here, but Eric says it would completely disregard like, half of our work, so…”
sunpoodle [7:17]: wait is that at SNU
notsteve [7:18]: yea
notsteve [7:18]: how’d you know
sunpoodle [7:18]: oh my god ??
sunpoodle [7:18]: i study there too
You know what? Forget the assignment– it’s due in a week. It can wait 7 more days.
“Guys, uh…” Sunwoo hums, hands shaking and his heart doing somersaults in his chest, “I’d actually like to go back to the topic of my online friend for a sec…”
Although Kim Sunwoo feels like the world stopped turning– or shifted in its axis, either or– since he learned about the fact that his internet best friend goes to the same university as him, and therefore, could be just about anyone he sees in the halls on a day to day basis, much to his dismay, it did not. The world didn’t stop turning and nothing really changed, all events happening around him as if he wasn’t just gifted with the life changing information: and that meant that besides the exam week fastly approaching him, he still had to host the Video Gaming club the Tuesday after.
He still has to turn up to the internet café and take the attendance sheet with him, even though the groupchat announced to him that they’re all going to study for the incoming exams instead. Because the rules are rules– as the head of the club, Kim Sunwoo has to host the meetings every week, or else the rights for the club will be revoked and all the privileges that come with having one will be taken away from him before he even has a chance to blink.
It’s already bad that he will be the only one on the attendance sheet– if he doesn’t decide to fake some signatures, that is– but now, he is alone and bored, and as it turns out, playing games alone isn’t as fun as playing them with someone else. The competitive nature in him yearns for multiplayer games, it longs for the social contact he so effortlessly has with someone when playing a video game with them. He thinks he built a decent group out of the other video game lovers at this university, and he didn’t even realize it up until now– when he’s sitting alone in the internet café, in the far back on one of the couches.
At least he has the chance to test out the new Playstation console they installed here.
Legs spread wide on the small couch, having the whole place for himself, Sunwoo turns on the Test Drive Unlimited game, clicking through the settings. He is not a big fan of racing games in general, but he figures it’s the only game that he can play alone and still have at least some fun, and so after picking out a fancy car to drive around the world, he focuses on racing and fulfilling the side-quests the best he can.
Until a figure squeezes itself right next to him, startling him. “Oh, Jesus!”
“It’s Y/N, actually,” you snicker, making the boy’s mood drop at least two notches, eyebrows furrowing at your sudden arrival. What are you even doing here? He thought no one was available this week?
“You came?” he asks, and despite the sincerity of the question, the tone sounds kind of spiteful.
“Yeah,” you shrug, “am I not allowed here? I thought the club is on every Tuesday?”
“It is,” he agrees, a hint of annoyance in his voice, “I just didn’t expect you to come.”
“Didn’t expect, or didn’t want?”
“Both,” he grunts, before he turns his head towards the screen again, ignoring your presence completely. The noises coming out of the console provide you two with some background music, but it’s still not enough to diffuse the tense atmosphere. Sunwoo hates every second of you by his side– your thighs touching in the small space due to his dominant manspreading– even the sound of you breathing making him immensely annoyed.
“What’s your problem with me anyway?” you suddenly speak up, breaking the silence. Something about the way you ask the question puts a dagger through Sunwoo’s heart, for some reason, but he doesn’t dare to drop his tough facade.
“I don’t like you, that’s all,” he shrugs nonchalantly, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he focuses back onto the game, trying hard to not fail at his sidequest. Everything but focus on the difficult conversation beginning to take place right in this moment, right?
And why do you even care? It’s not like the two of you are friends– anything close to that, even.
“Why?” you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. “I mean, I don’t get it. I did nothing wrong, and you seem to be getting on fine with the rest of the girls, so I don’t think that’s the problem here,” you lightly laugh, trying to take some weight off the situation.
Sunwoo’s jaw hardens. He doesn’t want to have this conversation right now.
“At first I thought it was just harmless teasing, something you do for fun or attention, but then I realized you were being serious about it, so I really… I really just wanna know what’s the deal behind all of this,” you grunt, swinging your arms in the air at the last word, putting more emphasis on the end of the sentence. You’re starting to get frustrated, and that’s slowly ticking off Sunwoo’s patience.
“Oh, you don’t know?” he scoffs, turning his head to you. “Then you’re even worse than I thought.”
“What are you even talking about?” you yelp out, the eyes of others in the internet café turning towards you with furrowed brows, annoyed glares pointed at your little commotion due to being disturbed while playing their favorite games.
“You’re my friend’s ex, that’s why,” he mutters, before scoffing at you and pointing his eyes back to the TV screen.
There is a moment of silence following his confession. He’s not sure what is the reasoning behind it– if you’re rocking your head, trying to remember what he’s talking about, or if you’re just shocked that he is so loyal to his friend. Maybe you’re in disbelief. Maybe you feel ashamed. Truth be told, Sunwoo doesn’t really care.
“Ji Changmin?” you ask, suddenly sounding surprised. “This is about Ji Changmin?”
Sunwoo hates the way you sound almost… amused?
“You can’t be serious. That happened over 4 years ago! There’s no way either of you is still hung up about that,” you say, shaking your head at him in disbelief.
The boy snickers, talking to you, but not really offering you any eye contact as he continues on with his game. “Maybe you didn’t think it was serious, but I surely won’t like someone who did my friends wrong.”
“Sunwoo, we were kids.”
“Does that mean it didn’t count?” he scoffs.
“Yeah, basically,” you bluntly agree, a bitter laugh escaping your throat. “Ask Changmin. I’m sure he barely even remembers–”
“Well, I remember him crying over you for two weeks straight, so maybe stop bragging into spaces where you’re not welcome,” he snaps, finally looking at you.
He chose a bad moment to have eye contact with you, though. The second the words leave his mouth, hurt flashes by your face, your expression instantly dropping. Your orbs get a little sadder and there’s a wrinkle between your eyebrows that makes Sunwoo’s stomach drop, guilt washing over him in waves strong like tsunami. Realistically, he shouldn’t care about hurting your feelings– by his logic, you must have even deserved it– but there is something in him that wants to physically crawl out of his skin and give himself a big, fierceful slap across his face for the words he just said.
Because who is he to tell you you’re unwanted in the club? The other people there like you. Everyone gets on with you just fine– it’s not Sunwoo’s right to ban you from the space he created, just because he has personal vendetta against you.
You’re not even doing anything wrong… Maybe he did fuck up.
“O-okay–”
“No, wait,” he hurriedly says, reaching out an arm towards you instinctively so he can stop you if you wanted to leave. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… I care about my friends a lot, that’s all. It’s… nothing personal,” he explains, humming to himself.
Except he’s lying, and you both know that. Everything about this was nothing but personal– the targeted jokes, the mean comments, the rude energy he has towards you any time you show up. Everything about his behavior and his annoyance whenever you are around is personal, because it involves you, and only you.
There’s no way he can save himself now, though. The words are already said and out there, and even though he regrets them, there is no way Kim Sunwoo is apologizing.
A cloak of silence falls over the two of you again but this time, it’s slowly eating Sunwoo alive. It’s biting on his arms and crawling on his insides, carving out every harsh word he’s said to you into skin, making it unbearable for the boy to continue just aimlessly sitting next to you. He has to do something.
“Do you want me to leave?” you ask in a soft, quiet voice– a tone slightly familiar to him. It makes his ears perk up and his stomach squeeze on itself. It’s a weird, visceral reaction, but he won’t really allow himself to put much importance into it.
Instead, he sighs and turns to you with the controller in hand, offering you a soft, guilty smile. “No,” he shakes his head, “you can pick your own car and play for a while as I order us some snacks, if you wanna. I’m also pretty sure there’s Smash bros on it, in case you wanna play with me when I get back.”
The air is tense and awkward, and Sunwoo curses himself from the way events unraveled. He feels like he is betraying his best friend, in a way, but the guilt he carries in him is too big to not try to dissolve.
You take the controller from him and nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek. He thinks this might be the beginning of truce– not a friendship, just tolerance– between the two of you, but he is soon taken out of his delusions when he sees you clicking off the game and opening Smash bros instead.
In that moment, he knows he is going to get his ass kicked, and he knows it’s going to be personal.
The remote control in his hands feels like a weapon after he managed to finally stick the strip of LED lights all around the ceiling– and with how things have been going (the previous ones not working and them falling down every few seconds this time around), it might as well turn into one if it turns out he failed at installing his newest room decor again. He will use it against himself, he thinks– there is not much will to live left in him after the whole day, leaving him weak and exhausted.
Praying a little before trying for one last time, Sunwoo clicks on the red button of the remote control in his palm, squeezing his eyes shut– and after wishing on all 11:11s and all eyelashes, it seems– the LED lights finally turn on and illuminate his room with a dark red glow that he quickly turns towards a more muted purple, because it’s easier on his eyes and he kind of doesn’t want his room to look like literal hell upon walking in.
The boy’s heart leaps in his chest. It finally worked– he is every gamer girl’s dream! (And to stay true to the statement, he reaches towards his phone, clicking on the Discord app, approaching the one he dreams about.)
notsteve [10:45]: ive got these really sick lights if u wanna come over ;;)
notsteve [10:45]: they tried to scam me twice but omg look
notsteve [10:46] – sends 1 video
notsteve [10:46]: they can change colors hihihii
Ever since the moment Kim Sunwoo learned that his dear online best friend loves to be persuaded– her words, not his– alongside with the new knowledge of the fact that they both walk across the same halls and visit the same lecture rooms, the dynamic he had with the girl shifted just the tiniest bit.
First of all, they call more often. Not only during the late hours of the night, but also during the day– whenever either of them feels like chatting for a while. There is also an increased volume of voice memos and random pictures of their surroundings, which didn’t use to happen before. And believe me, Sunwoo doesn’t want to honk his horn too much, but he swears the amount of casual flirting increased at least twice the size– from his side anyway. But he promises his friend is reciprocating! Hell, she even starts it sometimes! You have to believe him.
sunpoodle [10:47]: and here i thought you died
notsteve [10:48]: almost
notsteve [10:48]: i couldnt get it up :((
sunpoodle [10:48]: i didn’t know that was a problem ://
Sunwoo snorts at that, heat rising to his cheeks at the comment.
notsteve [10:49]: god i hate u
notsteve [10:50]: no that’s not a problem for me sweetie
notsteve [10:50]: i can show you if u come over cough
The moment he sends the last message, he regrets it. Every day he spends talking with his friend, the boundaries and lines get pushed and pushed, and he can’t seem to know why. Is it the prospect of maybe meeting her one day? The idea of somehow sweeping the girl off her feet and getting to know her beyond the level that the online space gives him– in a more deep, personal way?
Why does the idea of getting to see her with his own eyes, the idea of touching her, make the poor boy so flustered and excited? It’s not like either one of them actually initiated any real meeting in the first place– all of it was just half-jokes and invitations. He wonders when the day comes when he will be able to just nod and say yes to any of it– he wonders when she will feel comfortable enough to actually set a time and place, ordering to meet him there. He would drop anything– cancel any plans– just to run and meet her.
sunpoodle [10:53]: i could get convinced
sunpoodle [10:53]: to see the lights irl i mean
sunpoodle [10:54]: nothing else…..cough
sunpoodle [10:54]: youll have to clean first tho
After the replies flood in, Sunwoo immediately relaxes. The girl doesn’t seem uncomfortable– quite the opposite, actually– and so he takes it as a sign to continue the playful nature of things, subtly pushing the idea of a meet-up more and more. For some reason, Sunwoo feels like it should happen soon– although no time is running out, he feels pressure somewhere in the bottom of his stomach and quiet buzzing in his fingertips any time the thought of his friend crosses his mind– and he knows it will only go away if he finally meets the girl. (Or it might even get worse– either way, he desperately needs to find out.)
notsteve [10:56]: my room is super clean!!
notsteve [10:56]: and my bed is comfy
sunpoodle [10:57]: proof or im just gonna assume youre lying
The boy tussles in his bed, his hair getting messy in his sheets. The music playing in the background only further pushes the intimate atmosphere, and so after receiving your message, he doesn’t waste much time in opening his camera and putting effort into the angle of the picture he’s going to send you.
He makes sure not much of his face is shown. His phone screen mirrors mostly the white fabric of his pillow– that is now tinder purple with the LED lighting– but in the right corner, the majority of his tousled hair is shown. It looks soft against the sheets and he makes no real effort in tidying it, since he thinks it adds to the aesthetics of the picture. A glimpse of his face appears in the picture as well– only his left eye, though. It looks sleepy, hooded, and after squinting at the screen for a few seconds, Sunwoo decides to hit send.
The line is once again pushed a bit farther, making him wonder if his friend will follow in his footsteps and send a similar photo back. It’s secretive enough, yet also daring enough to make the other side wonder and fantasize– what does the rest of his face look like? Did she see him around? Does she recognise his face?
…does she find the glimpse attractive? (God, Sunwoo, get a fucking grip!)
notsteve [11:02] – sends one picture
sunpoodle [11:03]: i feel like a victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time
The reaction makes Sunwoo’s heart pick up at pace, a dumb smile running to his cheeks. If anyone saw him right now, he’d get bullied and picked on until the rest of his life– it’s hard to hide the feelings he tries to keep under control, though. It’s already difficult enough to deal with them on his own– he bets bottling it all up and pretending they don’t exist would even result in making it all that much harder.
notsteve [11:04]: WDYMMMMM
notsteve [11:04]: be serious for once
sunpoodle [11:04]: oh i AM serious
sunpoodle [11:04]: i mean that bed sure does seem comfy o:))
Sunwoo feels like he is going to faint soon. Hell, he feels like the world is suddenly turning faster and it’s hard to keep up.
notsteve [11:05]: i heard its even comfier when you cuddle i mean what who said that
sunpoodle [11:06]: im open to trying that out for myself
There are pools forming in Sunwoo’s palms during the course of the conversation, but they only deepen when he realizes that maybe he has to be the one to make the first step and initiate something actually real. Something that isn’t just mysteriously looking selfies in the chat or silly conversations about cuddling and meeting up that could turn into reality, but aren’t, and for what reason is making him absolutely insane.
And so he picks up all of his remaining courage and starts crafting the message inside of his head. How does he bring it up? How does he make it sound real? Like he’s being serious– that he wants to meet her and will turn crazy if it doesn’t happen soon?
The semester ends in a few days and lord knows if his friend lives anywhere near the campus. Knowing that he wasted his only chance and opportunity would absolutely destroy him, no matter if it’s Christmas or not.
Before he has a chance to send the carefully crafted message, though, the tone of a new message in his phone makes his attention perk up, reading out the words she’s sent to him via Discord and making his heart drop to the deepest pits of his stomach.
sunpoodle [11:10]: in all seriousness tho we should hang out sometime
sunpoodle [11:10]: since we live on the same campus and all lmao
sunpoodle [11:10]: (im trying to be so normal about this)
Well, that’s sudden. And unexpected. The boy feels himself grinning, resulting in biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself from screaming out. It’s finally happening– and he wasn’t the one having to write it down first. It’s not only him that seriously wants to meet up, and that has him metaphorically bouncing against the wall of his newly decorated room.
notsteve [11:10]: oh my god its happening
notsteve [11:11]: everyone stay calm
sunpoodle [11:12]: LMAO bE SERIOUS FOR ONE SEC
sunpoodle [11:12]: would love to meet outside of ur bedroom first tho
notsteve [11:13]: omg ofc that was just a jokey joke
notsteve [11:13]: just tell me when and where n ill be there
notsteve [11:14]: im free literally whenever except from when im not and even then ill make sure i cancel any other thing sooo
sunpoodle [11:15]: what about after exams?
sunpoodle [11:15]: im busy on tuesday but i can do any other day
sunpoodle [11:16]: they opened a new café close to the campus if u wanna see?:)
Sunwoo feels on Cloud 9. It’s finally happening and it’s so close– in just a week. More than 7 days, sure, but it’s still close enough– much closer than never, as he once presumed. Tussling a little in his bed, he makes sure his mouth is covered with his pillow before he lets out the scream he’s been holding for the last few minutes.
If Eric hears him, Sunwoo is gonna try to convince him that he just stubbed his toe. Nothing else.
The boy is painfully aware of the fact that he’s acting like a teenager in love for the first time– kicking his feet, giggling, thinking of his crush before falling asleep– but frankly speaking, he doesn’t really care. In just over 7 days, he can prove Ji Changmin and everyone wrong: he doesn’t have a crush on someone he hasn’t met before. Because in just over 7 days, he will meet the presumed love of his life and look at her with his own two eyes for the first time.
That day somehow feels more important than his own birthday. Maybe he should get the date tattooed… He’ll think about it.
When he finally takes his face out of the soft pillow, he notices his room went dark. When he reaches for the remote that belongs to the newly installed LED lights, he finds it not working. In any other circumstances, he’d consider either drowning himself in his bathtub or jumping out of his window– since he and Eric live on the 6th floor, it would be high enough to cause the damage needed– but right at this moment, he feels like nothing could ever break his mood again.
notsteve [11:20]: about the lights tho…
Sunwoo doesn’t really know how he grew to love video games. If he really thinks about it, perhaps he could say it was just how boys always turn out– fascinated with anything electric that had a cord attached to it (he once managed to make the power go out for the whole street when soldering his old pair of headphones that stopped working in one ear), but there was also something so fun about gaming that managed to make the boy stick to it– and that thing was how easy it was to make friends during it.
When he was little and his dad bought him his first game boy for Christmas, he not only managed to boost in front of everyone at school during recess by playing with it, but he also managed to lend the device to everyone who stared at it with even the tiniest bit of desire in their eyes for too long. Sunwoo knew not everyone was as fortunate as him, and playing it was so fun– he thought no one should go without trying the game boy at least once. The other kids at the playground kept going back to him to play with his toy and the friendships eventually blossomed to the point that the people around him stayed even beyond the video games– and that’s how Sunwoo met his first ever friend, Ji Changmin.
Sunwoo always liked having a group of people around him. He enjoyed when his friends from high school would come over to his house and play with the Playstation console he begged for his birthday. He didn’t mind anyone borrowing his phone during class and trying to solve the most difficult level of Geo Dash (since he’s the one that got the farthest in the game), because it meant he got to talk to the desperate gamers during break and have someone to run to the convenience store to buy snacks with afterwards.
He loved going to internet cafés, because even though the initial friendship he had with Eric Sohn and Lee Juyeon came around because they asked him to play Valorant after finding the poor boy alone, waddling into the place completely lonely during his first week of university, the bond got deeper and he can’t imagine his life without the two men in it anymore.
Sure, video games are fun. He likes to play shooting games because he enjoys winning. The competitive nature in him thrives during video games– he loves to tease his opponent, he loves to show that he’s the best. Yeah, Kim Sunwoo enjoys spending his time in the virtual world, escaping the mundane reality. But if he really dwelled deeper on it, he doesn’t think playing Minecraft would be as enjoyable if he didn’t talk to his online friend on the server every day, or if him and his friends didn’t go out and eat dinner together after a round of Overwatch in the late hours of the day.
Which is why he created the Video Gaming club in the first place. To connect people– to play games with the ones who need a buddy in their life. It made him smile to see people that met because of his club hanging out together even outside of it– he felt like he was doing something good. Sunwoo prided himself in the fact that he was the one to connect people together through his hobby, that he could share precious moments and make precious bonds in his circle through gaming.
Maybe that’s why the last meeting of the club for this semester made him so emotional. Truth be told, he didn’t think the Video Gaming club would make it big– hell, he thought not many people would care to show up each time. As a pat on his back of some sort, Sunwoo decides that the last game of the winter semester should be his favourite.
“Can’t believe you got us playing Minecraft of all games, what are we, 11?” Chan mutters from next to the club leader, making the boy snicker.
“Just say you’re embarrassed about the nickname you chose when you were 11.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Okay, mega_dino, I’ll believe you,” Sunwoo hums and nods, hearing his friends giggle as the younger one takes a hold of his gaming mouse.
Squinting his eyes at his screen, the club leader makes sure everything is set before the game starts. He already moved all of his important items from his main house into an underground hiding place of which coordinates he’d written down before getting to the internet café– knowing that his friends would want to sabotage him as soon as he lets them play on the server he carefully created. He knows letting them play on a different one would be much easier, but he kind of prefers to have the upper hand of owning a couple of diamond swords already, and he’s also too lazy to set up a new one. (And he would have to pay for it– which he isn’t really a fan of. Money is tight when you have to buy new LED lights off Temu every other week.)
“Are we starting already? I miss Minecraft,” Intak whines from the other side of the table, a glass of coke sitting in his hand.
“Why are you saying it like it’s a children’s game?” Sunwoo shakes his head at the comments. Ever since he announced the game of choice for the week, all he’s gotten were either complaints or dreamy sighs about how nostalgic it’s gonna be. Is Minecraft not cool anymore? Should he get a new hobby?
“Kinda is,” Yeji laughs, making the boy roll his eyes at her.
“You’re just mad you’re missing out on all the fun,” he argues, “heal your inner child a little. Make that pretty house you’ve always wanted!”
“I fuck with Minecraft,” an innocent voice lands into his ears from the opposite of him– a voice he would often curse out and cringe at just because of it’s sheer existence in his proximity, but now tolerates in favor of keeping peace in the room. The comment still startles him, though– he didn’t expect anyone to agree with his point. Not if it’s you, anyway.
“Can’t believe you two finally agree on something,” Aeri sighs from your side, the girl always glued to your hip. “You do realise you’re having an advantage if you’re letting us play on your server, though?”
“It’s not like we’re playing extreme survival tournament, come on guys–”
“You aren’t,” you shrug, “don’t really know about the rest of us,” you comment, meeting his eyes with a smug look, a teasing grin slowly slipping its way onto your lips.
“I’m banning anyone who tries to kill me today from the club,” Sunwoo suddenly announces, making everyone sigh at the dramaticness of his theatrical words. “Forever.”
“You can’t ban anyone over a game–” Haechan chimes in, but is cut off by his peer instantly.
“I will call it harassment and bullying,” Sunwoo shrugs, “try to argue with that.”
“You’re just begging to get targeted at this point,” Aeri mumbles, shaking her head at him. She’s right– but Sunwoo is also kind of confident in his defence abilities.
Unless he gets ganged up on, of course.
Which could happen– truth be told, he’s had it coming.
“Less talking and more gaming, please,” Yangyang calls from the corner, “I wanna steal Sunwoo’s diamonds now. Turn the shit on.”
And although Sunwoo doesn’t really like the implication of his friend’s words, he doesn’t argue. Mainly because 15 minutes have already passed and the club is only supposed to go on for an hour– which leaves the 10 of them only 45 minutes left to mine and do something meaningful. The owner of the server also moved the spawn point the farthest away from his house– in hopes of them not finding it and putting TNT all over the premises. (If they manage to craft some in the limited time space, that is. He doubts it, but truth be told, he can never be too sure.)
“Okay, I sent the IP of the server into the groupchat, so just type it in and press the Play button on the left and it should take you instantly here,” Sunwoo exclaims as he clicks on his server and connects to it, walking around the spawn point with his character for a bit, waiting for the rest of his group to arrive.
Pressing the TAB key, he keeps checking the usernames of the people jumping in. Once mega_dino turns up, he lets out an amused chuckle– there’s nothing that tops the nicknames you made when you were 11. Sunwoo’s email address scares him to this day, but he is too lazy to make a new one, since all of his subscriptions and social media are tied to it– it does make sending official emails to his university coordinators that much embarrassing, though.
Some nicknames are recognisable– such as yejiiiji or haechanahceah, but some are less decipherable, leaving him guessing who could be the one joining the game. He doesn’t ask about them, though, thinking that figuring it out as he plays will be more fun– when one nickname he recognises all too well suddenly shows up on the list of players, making his heart jump in surprise.
What is his friend doing on the server at this time of the day? She doesn’t usually play in the early hours of the afternoon– leaving her sessions to evening or late night. That’s when she calls Sunwoo and asks him to help her with mining (or begging for his diamonds, which he sometimes rejects, but complies with on the days he is the most weak to her cuteness).
He considers pulling up his phone and texting her on Discord to notify the poor girl about the influx of new players on the server. She must be confused– maybe even scared, who knows– to see so many new people playing at the same time. The server Sunwoo created was a bit small, hosting only a few of his friends and a couple of people he met online, so a big amount of players would surely make it seem like someone hacked him, right?
“Is everyone in?” he asks instead, hearing everyone let out excited hums and nods.
He furrows his brows. The server says 10 people are currently connected to it, but if his calculations are correct, the number should be 11– everyone from his club and his online best friend, sunpoodle.
He does a double take on the list, shaking his head. He counts the people in his head over and over again, a little frustrated. Why is everyone saying they’re in? It’s clearly not adding up.
Looking up from his computer, he eyes the rest of his friends in the café. Everyone is playing soundly and happily, it seems, paying him no mind as they get accustomed with the new world and warm back up to the controls of the game they haven’t played in ages.
Everyone but one person. Everyone but you.
Instead, you’re left staring at him with stern eyes. The look you offer him is sharp, maybe a little hurt– and at the moment, he doesn’t know why. Confusion is the only feeling jumping around the walls of his brain, making an unpleasant crease appear in between his eyebrows. Gears slowly turning, he tries to figure it all out.
You’re not playing. You’re not paying attention to the game. It’s like you know it all– like you’re so familiar with it, as if playing it daily. As if you know the server he made. As if you have your house in it, decorated with a cute offering in front of the door, a portal to his own home residing in the front yard.
It happens quickly– the realisation. He finally makes the connection. It dawns on him why you look so surprised. Why you look so shocked, so disturbed.
Because if you’re the only unmoving one on the map right now and his online friend is not the one to play on Tuesday afternoons, there is only one explanation.
“Oh my fucking god,” leaves his lips, albeit a little involuntarily. His voice is hoarse and harsh when he says the words, a final nail in the coffin for you as you stand up, the sound of the wheels of the chair churning against the floor, making everyone’s eyes snap to you.
You don’t turn off the game before you storm out of the room, giving him a clear view of your back, the character with the adorable skin you’ve picked out staring back at him blankly in the game. For a second, he doesn’t follow you– letting himself process. Everyone turns to Aeri for answers, as she’s the closest with you, but they get nothing as the girl just shrugs, equally confused, before she runs out of the room to find her best friend.
Sunwoos' ears start ringing. He feels like throwing up.
This can’t be…
There’s nothing more in this world that Kim Sunwoo enjoys more than playing Minecraft. He enjoys mining with music playing in his headphones. He loves crafting and making his house look perfect– just like little him always wanted it when he watched all those videos on youtube growing up. He likes to prank his friend Juyeon by putting random dirt blocks all over his house, or stealing all of Younghoon’s sugar cane when he’s offline, too lazy to grow some himself. He likes to teleport to his friend’s house and leave little surprises at the door, only to hear her call him a few seconds later, her cheerful, yet soft voice repeating in his ears even after he turns off the game and goes to his bed, letting her stories lull him to sleep.
There’s nothing more in this world that Kim Sunwoo enjoys more than playing Minecraft with his online best friend– the two of them ganging up on the dragon or entering the Nether together to find some glowstone for her house, because she wants it to look aesthetically pleasing. There’s nothing more he enjoys than helping her with little tasks and fighting off creepers away from her property, making sure they don’t blow out all the hard work she’s been putting in.
There’s nothing more in the world that he enjoys more than talking with his online friend during the mundane hours of the day, her messages making him hide his giggles in the back rows of his lecture halls. Nothing he enjoys more than her laugh, her jokes, her voice, her online presence. It calms him and sets him on fire all at once, and he doesn’t think he’s ever cared for anyone this deeply.
How has he never noticed that the person he hates the most is also the same person that he’s pretty sure he’s in love with? How has he never noticed it was you all the time?
And really, there’s nothing in the world Kim Sunwoo enjoys more than playing Minecraft with you. This time around, though, no progress in the world is made and your voice is not talking his ear off in the background. He shuts off the computer and leaves the place, not giving anyone an ounce of explanation.
You don’t text him in the evening like you always do. There’s no night call to help him sleep better.
He doesn’t turn the LED lights on in his room either, contemplating his life in complete darkness.
Nobody’s seen or heard of Kim Sunwoo in just a little under a week. Actually, that is an over-exaggeration– he went to take his exams, and he also went grocery shopping when he went out of ramen and his signature comfort food: red tasty KitKat bars– but other than that, it’s like the boy has disappeared from the face of earth.
There is no Video Gaming club, since it’s officially break time now– for only 2 weeks, but still– and he is declining every single invitation to hang out coming from his friends. He’s simply not in the mood to go anywhere or do anything, and so he spends his days locked away in his room.
Nothing is able to cut off his stream of thought. He’s not listening to music, so the occasional sounds of his roommate moving somewhere in the shared apartment are the only background noise to his loud inner voice. The elevator music usually playing in his head is replaced by a screaming match, and although he wishes it would stop, he can’t really control it– until the sound of his door opening makes him jolt away from the nightmare he’s living in.
Usually, he just tells Eric to fuck off and leave his room– since he is not in the headspace right now to spare anyone kindness, it seems– but when the disgusted face of Ji Changmin enters the place, Sunwoo knows there is no escaping this interrogation.
“Man, it stinks in here,” the boy grunts, moving through the obstacle course Sunwoo’s room has turned into in the few days he hasn’t bothered to put away his dirty laundry.
“Go away,” Sunwoo says. It’s a weak attempt– he already knows he lost this battle.
“Yeah, no,” Changmin shakes his head before moving to the window, opening it. “Eric orders a wellness check on you, so I’m not leaving until I figure out what’s wrong. I was told you left the club early the last time?”
Sunwoo doesn’t offer him a response. All Changmin can do is guess in this situation, and trust me, although they’re best friends, sadly, they still haven’t developed telepathy– and so the conversation is a little tougher than the squirrel-like boy would prefer.
“Did something happen?”
Sunwoo recognises it’s already dark outside, the sound of cicadas landing into his ears through the open window. He doesn’t know how long he’s been glued to his mattress, but it makes him feel a little foolish. Not more than his previous actions, though– that surely takes the crown.
“I have a crush on Y/N,” Sunwoo speaks into the existence, startling the boy.
It’s weird for the boy to call you by your name in regards to his feelings. While he was so sure of his growing adoration for you when he spoke to you online, unaware of your real identity, it’s much harder to admit it to himself when the person he spent countless nights dreaming about finally turns into reality, and it’s not the form he expected. It’s confusing. It’s overwhelming– it leaves him thinking. Why did it have to be you?
“What?” Changmin asks, genuine shock and surprise coating his tone. “I thought you hated Y/N.”
The words sting like a slap to his face. He hated you. How could he ever be so reckless with his words to you? How could he be so mean? You must hate him now.
“Didn’t you have a crush on that online girl? What– I’m confused, man…” Changmin trails off, finally sitting at Sunwoo’s bed, the weight of his body making the mattress shift under the lazy man’s figure.
“She’s the same person,” Sunwoo explains, the weight of his words making heaviness fall over the whole room, coating it with deep silence.
Changmin must think he’s foolish. He must think he is being crazy– hell, he must judge him for liking someone who once broke his heart, even though he was unaware it was the same person that made him feel so loved just by talking to him online.
He cares about what you think more, though. Do you never wanna see him again? Do you hate him? He would hate himself, if he was you.
Does he hate you? Does he want to see you again? Is your friendship over?
Did he lose you?
He hasn’t spoken to you in what feels like forever. Sunwoo’s throat closes on itself, making a real, visceral emotion run through his whole body and hit right in his chest, close to his heart. The corners of his eyes burn and he feels like running out of the room straight onto an ongoing traffic– he is unsettled. He feels terrible.
“Dude, are you crying?” Changmin asks with a shiteating grin on his face, pointing towards the younger one’s face.
“No!” Sunwoo bluntly replies, voice hoarse and scratchy, harshly wiping off the tear that managed to roll down his cheek– almost slapping himself in the process.
Changmin laughs. He laughs. Like it’s funny. Like it’s unserious and nothing is going on, like there is nothing to be worried about, and Kim Sunwoo is just being his overdramatic self, as always. Changmin laughs as if liking someone who once broke your friend’s heart is silly and not a big deal. As if not recognising someone you like online in real life is a normal experience, and not completely embarrassing– as if being mean to the same person you claim to adore is fine, and nothing to hate yourself over.
Sunwoo is conflicted. Talk about cognitive dissonance.
“Why are you laughing? It’s not funny,” Sunwoo pouts, the familiar wrinkle appearing in the middle of his eyebrows again, making his friend roll his eyes at the boy’s distress.
Changmin sighs. “It kinda is, if you think about it,” he shrugs, “you claim to hate Y/N, but turns out you’ve been in love with her all along…”
“You’re really not helping.”
“Well, what do you want me to do?” Changmin snickers. “I think this makes it easier for you. I know you were nervous about meeting her in real life, so this kind of takes off the pressure, since you already know each other.”
Sunwoo looks at his friend like he’s crazy. Does he not get the full weight of the situation? Does he not realise how serious this all is?
“What are you even talking about? Do you not hate me?” Sunwoo asks.
“Me?” Changmin asks, his head turning to the side like a confused puppy’s. “I don’t think I’m the person you need to worry about– although I’m sure you worry plenty– why would I hate you for liking Y/N?”
“Because she is your ex-girlfriend?” Sunwoo mumbles, twisting in his bed to have a better look at his friend.
He is met with a few seconds of silence. He is starting to think his whole life is a joke and he is in some sort of a weird knock-off of the Truman show. How can you and Changmin both have the same reaction to his undying loyalty? He is being taken for granted, that’s for sure.
“You utter buffoon, that was ages ago! I honestly forget we even dated sometimes, it was so short-lived,” Changmin laughs before he rests his back against the wall of Sunwoo’s room, getting more comfortable in his new position. He knows the conversation isn’t over yet– there is more on the boy’s mind than the past relationship.
“Oh,” Sunwoo hums.
“Yeah, oh,” Changmin laughs. “I honestly thought there was more to your hate towards Y/N, but I never really asked because I thought it was some gamer stuff or something that I couldn’t give two shits about. If I had known it was all because of my relationship from high school, I would’ve set the record straight a long time ago.”
“Well, maybe you should’ve.”
Sunwoo feels defeated. Like a deflated balloon. The weight on his shoulders stays the same despite the newfound information– because truth be told, this was never the problem in the first place.
And he is aware of that. Changmin is as well– he knows his best friend a little too much.
“But that’s not all there is to it, is it?” Changmin hums, poking the boy’s side with his long finger, burying it into his hoodie-covered flesh.
Sunwoo’s averted gaze and the chewing on the inside of his cheek is enough of an answer. “What is it?”
“It’s just… I don’t know how to feel about Y/N anymore,” Sunwoo confesses, snickering to himself. “Like, online, she was this perfect angel, like– don’t laugh at me now, you know I’m fucking sensitive– she was just… she was everything, you know?”
Changmin hums. “And in real life?”
“In real life, we were never really close and I hated her. How can I like someone I so strongly dislike in real life? It’s stupid…”
“You only hated what she did to me when we were teenagers, Sunwoo. You made yourself loathe something that wasn’t even there,” Changmin says, smiling sympathetically at the boy. “Do you think she is suddenly a different person to the one you got to know online just because she made a few mistakes when we were young?”
“I dunno…”
“I think you do know, you’re just scared to admit it to yourself, because you know you were a dick to her,” his best friend bluntly announces, watching Sunwoo wince at the words. Truth hurts– but it’s what he needs to hear. Because Changmin’s right, and Sunwoo is too tired of keeping all of these doubts hidden.
“Changmin, I can’t like her–”
“Why?” the boy cuts him off. “Because you said so? You were so big on saying how much you loved her for who she is, without knowing her in real life and knowing what she looked like. And sure, I made fun of you for it countless times before– but don’t you think you know her well enough by now? And don’t try to tell me you don’t know her just because you met online, because you know you’d be a fucking hypocrite.”
“But it’s Y/N.”
“Does that make any difference?”
Sunwoo moves from the inside of his cheek to bite at the dry skin of his lower lip. After tugging at the chapped mess, he feels iron on his tongue from tearing off a piece of his skin, eyes still pressed sternly into the ceiling.
Does it make any difference? Does Sunwoo like you less now that he knows who you are? It was never about the looks for him– and god knows he barely even knew you in real life. Saying he wasn’t interested anymore would make him a hypocrite.
Every time he thinks of the night talks you two shared and the secrets you’d tell him, trusting him with anything and everything, his heart still stummers in his chest and his stomach does that weird thing everyone in the romantic movies his roommate Eric watches talks about– but now, the girl has a face and a voice, and Sunwoo can’t say he hates it. He can’t say he hates you.
“I guess it doesn’t,” Sunwoo whispers, saying the obvious.
He still wants you. Just the way you are. Sure, he was shocked– anyone would be– but the feelings he has for you are still the same; it’s just the hate that slowly left his body, disappearing like the puddles of rain on the pavement on a sunny day.
He can’t hate someone so important to him. How foolish of him to once think you were the bane of his existence.
“So why don’t you two just talk it out?” Changmin asks, pointing out the obvious.
Sunwoo plays with the skin around his cuticles for a while, nervously picking at the loose skin and making himself bleed once again, the nerves getting the worst out of him. “I think I’m a little scared.”
“So I was right. You’re scared she will push you away because you were a dick to her all those times before,” Changmin once again states the obvious.
“Basically,” Sunwoo says, his insecurities slowly slipping through his mouth and out to the wild, hanging in the air. “As much as my feelings didn’t change, I think hers might have. And that’s… that’s scary.”
In Sunwoo’s eyes, what you and he had together was special. He never wanted to lose you to something like this– over spite, a foolish lack of judgement. The thought of never talking to you again is making his insides crash on themselves, guilt slowly, but surely eating him alive. The best thing that’s ever happened to him might be royally fucked over, and there is no one else he can blame but himself.
“Well, you don’t know that. And although I know you might be too scared to find out, you two both need to have a talk. Don’t you think you owe each other that much?”
Changmin’s right. He almost always is– he doesn’t know why Sunwoo ever thought the older one needed protecting. Like a pouty child, Kim Sunwoo is comforted by his best friend’s words, maybe even a little scolded and enlightened by the dimpled boy. The appreciation in his heart almost outgrows the worry, but there is still a you-shaped hole in his chest that he feels the need to fill– only if you allow him to.
He didn’t expect for it to end up being you, but he doesn’t hate the idea.
He’s not opposed to it. He welcomes it, because
It’s still the same you. In whatever form, in whatever shape– he knows your soul, and he fears nothing will ever take away and move the feelings he treasures for you to another place, to some other.
They’re reserved for you only. (Also, he always thought your cunning smile was nice to look at. He just tried to suppress the idea of it deep, deep within his mind.)
“We were supposed to meet tomorrow,” Sunwoo hums, “I’ll see if she… still wants to come.”
Changmin smiles. “I knew you were smarter than this.”
The backhanded compliment would rile him up on most occasions– this time, though, he knows it’s deserved.
One would say Kim Sunwoo didn’t think much before going up to the new café that opened downtown the week after exams, just like you two scheduled. Why?
First of all, he didn’t really check in with you to see if the offer is still up and if you want to meet him after all of this. Second of all, he turned up almost 35 minutes too early, since he was so nervous pacing around his flat that he physically couldn’t stay in the closed space anymore, and third of all, he’s fairly certain he put two different socks on when he was dressing himself, and after further inspection by the front door of the coffee place, pulling his jeans up to take a look, he finds out his suspicions were correct.
The thing is, though, against popular belief, Kim Sunwoo thought almost a little too much before going to the scheduled hangout. He thought about it the whole night before– and the whole previous week, if he’s being honest. He thought about it so much it consumed his every waking thought, leaving him all over the place, distracted and distressed. On most occasions, Eric had to ask a question five times before he was heard by his dear roommate, and if he wanted a real answer out of him, he had to gentle parent him through the conversation.
Sunwoo thought about it so much up to the point that you were all that was in his head. You and your last conversations on Discord which he spent the whole week rereading, you and your house in Minecraft that was left untouched since the last time you two played together (he checked). You and your laugh and the gentle, soft voice you only used with him on your calls– the voice that lulled him to sleep and make him feel butterflies in his stomach, unrecognisable to the hardened tone you used with him whenever you met up in real life when the conflicts he used to stir got the best out of you.
You and your cunning smile. You and your piercing, playful gaze. You and your hair that always kept falling into your face when you were crouched over the keyboard. It’s almost laughable how much he managed to pay attention to you in real life before knowing you were the same person he spent months adoring over the internet– the universe really works in strange ways sometimes.
So really, Kim Sunwoo has thought a lot about you and you two meeting before actually leaving the house; which could also very well be the reason why he didn’t text you to see if you still want to see him in the first place– in fear of being declined, in fear of being rejected by the only person he so deeply craves the validation from.
If you don’t show up, he will just go home and pretend none of this ever happened.
(Or at least he hopes he can.)
The more time he spends standing in front of the coffee shop, though, the more his hope of ever seeing you again gets smaller and smaller. Minutes are slowly passing him by like last summer, and he swears he’s never felt the passing of time more than right in this moment. He feels like he is gaining 5 years every 5 minutes that he’s standing in the middle of the pavement– the clock striking well past 20 minutes of when you were supposed to meet.
He will give it 10 more minutes, he thinks. 20, at most. Maybe he can wait an hour. Maybe you got stuck in the traffic. Maybe you got confused with the time…
Or maybe you’re just not coming, and he has to accept that.
Kicking the rocks under his feet while also trying to get out of the way of people walking past, he puts his hands deep into his pockets. He would rather die than to embarrass himself in front of you by texting you, and so he figures that if he just waits a few more minutes, God will surely give him a sign of when to stop holding back his tears and go back home…
“You look like a kicked puppy,” a voice– teasing, yet also a bit cautious– falls into his ears, making him perk up and look behind his shoulder. God must really love him today, he thinks.
No words escape his mouth for the time being. His brain goes short circuit a little at the sight of you– and in that moment he fully realises that he didn’t actually expect you to come, and that makes him feel even worse about himself. Relief washes over him like a wave of tsunami, the surprised look adorning Sunwoo’s face disappearing in seconds as he tries to manage his racing heartbeat.
“You came,” slips out from between his lips, making the boy immensely embarrassed with his choice of words.
“I did,” you nod, pressing your lips tightly against each other, an awkward half-smile doing nothing to calm down Sunwoo’s nerves. “I figured you either come and we figure this out, or you don’t and I get something to treat myself to chase down the disappointment.”
You’d be disappointed if he didn’t come. Just the sentiment makes Sunwoo’s heart do backflips in his ribcage– how could he ever think he hated you?
“Kind of same, actually,” he replies, nodding.
An awkward silence falls over you two like a weighted blanket, making Sunwoo’s stomach churn in discomfort. This is not how he imagined your first meeting to be– but then again, it’s not like he is meeting his online best friend (if he can even call you that anymore) for the first time. He tries to find the memory of your first meeting somewhere in the depths of his mind, but much to his dismay, he is left unsuccessful. He never really deemed it that important before– curse him and his reckless teenage mind.
“Uhm,” you hum, scratching the back of your neck, “I was… the bus was late, by the way. I didn’t purposefully let you wait to like, get back at you or something,” you suddenly explain, your lips stretching into a sympathetic smile.
The explanation doesn’t matter to him anymore. He doesn’t care if you came 20 minutes late and if you took the bus or if you built a portal in the back rooms of the very café you’re supposed to enter in a few minutes– all that matters is that you came and that you’re here, right in front of Sunwoo’s eyes, and you’re not pulling out a machete or an axe on him as a revenge for all the times he acted wrongly towards you in the past.
“Oh, no worries,” he hums almost immediately, “you’re here now, and that’s all that matters,” he nods.
After another shared, prolonged look between the two of you– one in which he scans you up and down, as if actually seeing you for the first time (and noticing the switch in your usual attire: you exchanged your cargo pants for a skirt, something more fancy, yet telling), a look in which he gets all red in his cheeks, wondering if you noticed the way he did his hair differently today, just to appeal to you– he clears his throat and takes a step towards the café, opening the door for you like the gentleman he tries to be today. “Let’s go in, then!”
You follow his lead, entering the small, yet cozy place. The cold weather outside makes a good contrast with the heating of the café, and when Sunwoo takes a look at the board above the counter, he finds a seasonal menu welcoming him in with a big bear hug. Hot chocolate is just what he needs after all of this, and he won’t deny himself the pleasure of one now.
“Hot choccy?” you ask, smiling softly at the silent figure standing next to you. Sunwoo is caught off-guard with your suggestion and the gentle curve of your lips just the same, warmth spreading to the inside of his heart at the realisation that you know him so well. It’s her. It’s really her, he gasps in disbelief.
“Want one as well?” he asks after nodding, watching you shrug. He takes that as a yes, and since he thinks he did a lot of damage over the course of your friendship, he takes the lead and pays for your drink to try and make up for it– which you don’t fight him over, and he doesn’t find it in him to care. Actually, he thinks he kind of appreciates it.
After taking a seat in one of the booths in the corner– the cream sofa hugs him in just well, and Sunwoo thinks he might just give this place a 5 star review on Yelp, depending on the way this date- I mean… friendly gathering goes– he is met with another excruciating, suffocating silence. He never really had much trouble talking to you before– surely not online, but also not whenever you were around in real life settings as well, since he always found a way to tease you and make fun of you, giving you most of his undivided attention– but this time around, he thinks keeping up a conversation with you might just be the hardest thing he’s ever had to experience.
You make him nervous. You make him doubtful. If he wondered about how you’d perceive him after meeting him before knowing you two were acquainted already, he is wondering even more now– do you hate him? Do you wish he wasn’t the one sitting opposite of you right now? Do you want to leave and never talk to him again?
Is he good enough? Does he live up to the expectations– if you even had any?
All previous hatred towards you disappears as fast as a click of your finger, and Kim Sunwoo is left breathless at the fact that you’re right there, in front of him– his online best friend. He thinks he might have still liked you even if you turned out to be a mass murderer. He thinks he might have still liked you even if you were a 50 year old male in a disguise. He thinks the bond you two have built over the internet is much stronger than any mean comments he threw your way before– and the only thing left is to hope you feel the same.
Opening his mouth to speak, he thinks it’s time to have that conversation.
“Listen, I–”
“Were you disappointed that it was me?” you cut him off suddenly, fast as lightning– as if to hurry to get the question out before you chicken out of it.
Sunwoo is left staring at you open-mouthed, shocked. There was not a single minute of his existence where he’d feel disappointed with your identity. The thought never even crossed his brain once, and suddenly, he feels stupid.
He left you hanging for a whole week– all because he thought you’d hate him. He left you wondering in silence, doubting yourself and thinking you’re not who he would’ve liked– all because of his own insecurities. Why has he not thought of your side of things as well?
“No,” he simply states, watching your face morph into a more relaxed one, eyes softening. “Not at all, no,” he shakes his head.
“I just– it’s…”
“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way,” Sunwoo utters out. You press your lips together, listening. “Was I surprised? Mhm. Shocked? Yeah, of course I was… but no, I was never disappointed that it turned out to be you. Not for a single moment.”
“I thought you hated me,” you note, chuckling. The words sting on Sunwoo’s skin, but he figures he’s not the one to be hurt right now– and so he sucks it up and hums.
“I was being petty,” he agrees. “And childish. Nothing to be so passionate about as I was,” he admits, forcefully laughing at his own actions. “Nothing to throw away everything we… nothing to throw away the friendship that means so much to me.”
The sincerity of his own words scares him. There is a quiet desperation in him that wants to prove to you that he’s not as bad as he presented himself to be. There is a need in him to fix everything he ruined, to show you that he’s the same Sunwoo you know from the internet, and that all of this is worth it.
“And I’m sorry, just… just by the way.”
Sunwoo never thought he’d be left apologizing to you– but here he is. Maybe this whole thing taught him something– maybe you taught him something.
“Ah,” you shrug. “It’s okay. I mean, it was kind of fun watching you be so pressed about nothing, but I’m glad it’s resolved now,” you laugh.
You laugh, and the atmosphere immediately clears. Sunwoo feels like he can breathe lighter, like the cold isn’t so overbearing outside, like he hadn’t just spent the last week locked in his room, contemplating the point of living at all. He didn’t think it would be this easy…
Something inside of him truly believed he lost you for good.
“I mean, you were the one that ran out of the internet café without an explanation–”
“You cursed me out!” you argue, kicking his shin lightly under the table.
The boy fakes offense, pointing his finger at you. “That wasn’t directed at you! Just the situation in general.”
“That includes me,” you add.
“Sure, but still– I was just surprised. I really didn’t expect my online best friend to be sitting in the same room as me every week, that’s for sure,” he says, watching as your eyes light up at the title, a cute smile overtaking your features.
“I also didn’t expect you to ghost me for a full week after,” you add, shrugging. “You’re usually so desperate for attention,” you hum, making the boy’s cheeks heat up like a furnace, eyes averting your gaze at all costs. Now, this surely wasn’t on the list of things he wanted to discuss with you today.
Clearing his throat, he makes eye contact with his mug instead, desperately trying to shift the topic of the conversation. “Drink it, it’s getting cold…”
“Sure… Whatever you say, Steve,” you tease. When he looks up at you from under his eyelashes, there’s the same cunning smile on your face that he watched all those times when you won against him at League of Legends– the same smile that used to always drive him crazy, but he now recognises that he translated the implications of his insanity all wrong (because he thinks that maybe somewhere deep inside of his romantic, rotten soul, he might have known all along)– and he wonders if this was the smile you always wore when you made fun of him for falling asleep on the call with you again, the boy using your soft, sleepy voice as a lullaby.
Sunwoo almost chokes on his drink, pointing an accusing finger at you. “Speaking of,” he starts, “the kids miss you. Go and feed them, miss,” he says, watching you roll your eyes at him. The dogs you co-parent with him in Minecraft have been sitting near your front door ever since you last logged out, and even though coming to your house felt like an emotional torture in the time you were gone, Sunwoo always managed to feed them like he would with a real animal.
Call him childish, for all he cares.
“Okay, damn,” you say, rolling your eyes at him. “You only say that because you want me to finally move our beds together, don’t you?” you tease him, referencing the little offering he made for you months ago– the one that’s still secure outside of your house despite many of its renovations.
Sunwoo almost chokes on his drink again. You grin at him– a sight that makes his insides feel like they were threaded with gold. He swears hot chocolate has never felt so sweet before.
If he wasn’t sure of it before, he’s fairly certain now– you can fall for someone over the internet. And yes, the crush translates to its full form after meeting them in person.
“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it…” he mumbles, not really quick enough to come up with a good comeback now that he’s face to face with you, making you giggle cutely at his sudden shyness. This is not how you know Kim Sunwoo– the sheepish composure is so far of the boy you met online, but also the one that ridiculed you during a casual game of CS:GO weeks ago.
“I’ll decide if it’s worth it after you show me the lights you’ve been talking my ear off about,” you say– and he thinks he won. Because this is an invitation to his room– an invitation for further hangouts. If you keep flirting with him like this, Sunwoo thinks he might just combust.
There is only one problem, though.
“About the lights…”
BONUS // A YEAR LATER
If you would’ve told Kim Sunwoo that he will end up in a long distance relationship only a bit more than a year ago, he would’ve believed you. See, he’s a stranger to denial– he is quite good at accepting his own feelings for what they were, inwardly, at least– and so he was fairly certain he was in love with his online best friend even before he had a chance to meet her. Somewhere along the line, given the fact that his feelings would be reciprocated, he imagined going further with the establishment, no matter how far or close in distance you were from each other.
Turns out, life is funny in many ways and his online best friend, the proclaimed love of his life, lived just around the corner with her roommate Aeri. She still doesn’t like him that much, but Sunwoo puts effort into visiting his girlfriend at her place often, in hopes that her best friend finally warms up to him a little– he thinks it’s almost like approaching a stray cat. The Sylvanian families shrine the two girls hold in their living room is also fascinating to him– he didn’t think someone with a stern look like Aeri’s could stare at something so adorable and small so lovingly.
“Sunwoo, once again, we are not in a long distance relationship,” you say over the speakers of his sister’s laptop that he borrowed just so he could call with you, making him mourn into the poor-quality microphone.
“We are! You’re so far away right now, how can you justify it not being a long distance relationship?”
“We literally saw each other a week ago,” you deadpan, “and we will see each other again after we come back to uni, you moron.”
See, Sunwoo’s definition of a long distance relationship is a bit warped. As long as you’re not in the same town as him, he considers you too far away– and in any other circumstance, you would find it cute (bless his heart), but when you’re trying to enjoy your break with your family that you haven’t seen in a while, it’s becoming just the tiniest bit overbearing.
“That’s too long.”
“You’re being a baby,” you grunt, making your boyfriend pout at the other side of the call, seen by his web camera. You were against turning your own on, but were forced to nonetheless– Sunwoo’s ‘I need to see your face or else I’ll die’ was too convincing not to. You know he won’t, but at the same time, the poor boy could turn a little manic at times– you had to make sure he will survive until your next meeting.
“God, a man can’t even miss his long distance girlfriend in peace–”
“I am not your long distance girlfriend. We’re literally only like 4 hours away from each other right now, that’s not even–”
“If you think about it,” Sunwoo cuts you off, making you sigh. “It’s like we’re back to square one. Y’know, before we started dating.”
“Not really…?” you try to argue with him, planning to point out the fact that back then, you used to call on Discord and not Whatsapp, with no camera on and using fake names, but the boy cuts you off fast, knowing that you’re right and he just can’t let you have the point.
“I miss your kisses, that’s all.”
Still hung up on the previous comment, you sigh. “We weren’t even kissing back then, Sunwoo.”
The boy stares at you for a second, blinking, before he breaks out into a huge grin. “Well, maybe not you. Me, however, I was kissing the screen everytime your character showed up–”
“I’m going to end the call,” you warn him. Why are you even dating him? He has a bitchless loser energy– maybe you should let him live up to it.
“No no no– okay, I’ll be normal.”
“I find that hard to believe,” you sigh.
If you would’ve told Kim Sunwoo that he will end up in a long distance relationship only a bit more than a year ago, he would’ve believed you. After seeing the little heart shaped altar in front of your house in Minecraft every time he plays– your beds now stuck together, making him sense that he finally made it– he truly wouldn’t find this accusation hard to believe.
Truth be told, though, he’s much happier with having a normal relationship with you.
One where he gets to hold you, one where he gets to kiss you. One where you finally come over and he gets to impress you with the LED strip he finally got off a proper electronic place instead of a cheap online store, investing money into the device he gets to use behind the locked doors of his room for atmospheric purposes whenever you two–
Anyways.
Maybe Changmin was right and he was always being just too overly-dramatic. He was also right when he accused Sunwoo of having a huge crush on you online, after all.
Still, Sunwoo wouldn’t change it for anything. Despite the history you share, he actually thinks you’re pretty fucking cute.
And real. And his.
And thankfully, not a thousand miles away. (Although it may feel like it right now.)
this was so so cute, I’m literally obsessed with the way they had their little minecraft world where they were basically a married couple omg. When it was only them at the pc cafe that one time and had their confrontation I was like oh no but then when sunwoo felt bad it’s like you could feel the tension change between them. Overall super super amazing I loved it a lot
sim jaeyun x fem!reader
warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), fingering, spitting, body worshipping, whimpering and whiney jake, mutual pining, confessions, mentions of alcohol, anti-men in some parts, not proof-read anything else lmk!
wc: 16.1k
synopsis: in your fourth year of secondary school, your home room teacher made you write a 'to future you' letter to someone in your class. while you had no idea who to write it to, sim jaeyun knew exactly who would receive his letter. he just never expected it to actually come through 10 years later.
a/n: hi! so this was something that has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while. i saw a tiktok that was someone writing a confession letter and ten years later receiving it so that is the inspo (pls if anyone knows it please send me the link so i can tag it!) i hope you enjoy this, after i post this i am taking a little break and stepping back so i can focus on my heeseung series! there might be some random fics here and there but i wont be posting as much (sorry!) as always, feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments are all welcome <3 ilysm
Your phone vibrates on your cluttered office desk, a blessed interruption from the mundane chore of sifting through emails. With a sigh, you pick it up, expecting yet another spam message or discount offer. However, as you enter your pin and swipe down the notification, your curiosity piques, and your posture straightens instinctively, uncrossing your legs and firmly planting both feet on the ground.
The screen displays the sender as 'To Future You'. Memories flood back from a decade ago when your teacher, Mr. Yang, initiated a unique project in your fourth year of secondary school. Instead of the typical 'what I think will happen in 10 years' pitch, Mr. Yang offered a more intriguing idea that got the students on board.
Your class was tasked with writing letters to someone else in the class, detailing how you perceived them then and what you believed they would become in the future. Mr. Yang's intention was to leave everyone with a lasting memory, knowing that some would stay for fifth and sixth years, while others would move on to college or the workforce.
He didn’t pair you all up, leaving you to your own devices; it could be a friend or someone random, the only stipulation being that it was someone from your home room.
Honestly, you hadn’t given it much thought at the time, sending one to the girl next to you with hopes that her dreams would come true. All your friends were in different classes, so you couldn’t even enthusiastically engage with the exercise.
However, you never expected to get one yourself. Your home room was filled with the popular girls and guys who were a world away from you and your quiet life. While they were out partying and having fun, you were studying to get into University, promising yourself a life of fun after you had graduated with friends you made along the way.
Of course, that’s not how it worked and you found yourself in a job you hated with bosses who make sly remarks about you and your competency even though you are much better at your job than any of these middle-aged losers. What’s that song from Bowling For Soup? High School Never ends, and by fuck were they right.
So as you stare at the unread email, you brace yourself for the torment from school to haunt you now as a 26-year-old. There was one girl from class who hated you, convinced that you ratted her out for smoking in the girls’ bathroom, which by the way, you had no part in; perhaps this letter is cursing you out wrongfully one final time.
Yet, the letter is not anything of the sort, leaving your palms sweaty at the unexpected turn.
Hi, Y/N.
How are you doing? From the looks of it, you’re struggling with what to write. Me too if I am being honest. This is a bit weird, isn’t it? I feel so strange writing these words when you're just a few seats away.
Anyway, hi again!
I don't know why I'm pouring my thoughts out to you of all people, but…I trust you. You’re genuinely nice and kind to everyone, even when others aren't :( sorry about that, by the way, for my friends. They can be real pissheads, and I personally hope they live unfulfilling lives. Once I leave next month, I pray I never have to see them ever again.
Is that too harsh?
Sorry, I should get back on track. You look super pretty today! I noticed you got a new bracelet. Was it for your birthday? Come to think of it, your birthday must have just passed if you're receiving this 10 years later, so happy 26th birthday, I guess! It’s so strange to imagine you as a 26 year old, or me for that matter lol.
I’m supposed to predict what I see your life like in the future, right? I think you’re an amazing lawyer (that is what you’re going to study at University, isn’t it?) I peer-reviewed one of your English papers once and you made me totally change my mind on The Woman in Black, I mean, she shouldn’t have tormented him but she was also grieving. I knew then that you could see the good in everyone, exactly what a good lawyer should be. Umm…you’re probably happily living with your husband who you met in a lecture and bonded over some conversation about how to save the world or what near extinct animal you should fundraise for.
I’m jealous of him just thinking about it.
Can I make a confession? Since I don’t think we’ll miraculously become friends and you’ll somehow read this while I sit beside you. It’s actually the real reason I’m writing this to you (I lied earlier about not knowing, I just didn’t know if I would say this part lol.)
I like you, as in, like you - like you. I have since first year when you walked into homeroom with your hair tied up and your Hello Kitty backpack. I might even be in love with you, as much as a 16 year old boy can be. You’re so passionate and beautiful that I can’t keep my eyes off you. Even now in the computer room, I’m staring straight at you and you haven’t even looked my way once. It always goes like this but I don’t blame you for it, don’t worry! It’s my fault, I should stop being a coward and ask you out, or at least try and be friends with you.
I’m leaving at the end of fourth year, I hate this place, to be honest. I have no idea what I am going to do or who I am and I’m scared as fuck. I wish in another life I could have you by my side through adulthood. I think it’s the only way I can cope, it’s the only reason I survived this hellhole. One look at you, and I feel safe, like the world isn’t crashing down on me. That’s weird, isn’t it? To think that about someone you don’t speak to.
This is coming off as creepy, like I don’t stalk you or anything, don’t worry. I just can’t express my feelings well but I guess it’s as simple as:
I think I love you, I hope no matter what happens in the future you have the life you deserve, and if I do happen to build up the courage at the end of the year to confess and you fall in love with me and I am in fact that husband I spoke about earlier (although way cooler and less of a knob) then do not speak about this lol.
Take care of yourself, Y/N. The world is so much brighter with you in it.
~ Your secret admirer.
LOL imagine I left you hanging like that :P
~ It’s Jaeyun (Sim, not Lee)
You stare blankly at your phone screen, the words swirling before your eyes like a whirlpool of emotions. A tidal wave crashes over you, leaving you paralysed in your seat, suspended in a moment of disbelief and regret. It's as if time itself has come to a standstill, and the world around you fades into insignificance as you grapple with the weight of Jaeyun's confession.
How could you not have noticed? How could you have been so blind to his feelings, so oblivious to the subtle signs of affection that now seem painfully obvious in hindsight? Jaeyun, of all people, someone who had offered you a smile while his friend group glared at you, or how he volunteered to be your dancing partner during PE, all that time you figured he was doing it to mock you when in fact, he was someone who had seen you for who you truly were when others merely glanced over you.
Jaeyun had been there all along, quietly observing, silently hoping for a chance to make his feelings known.
And you wish he did because out of all the popular students in your year, he was the one you would have been opened to. You had a crush on him like any girl does in their youth, but that's all you thought it was, an unrequited crush that could never be anything more than that. Yet, here he was telling you he liked you, so casually, in a letter he wrote at 16.
In his predictions, he was right about one thing - you are a lawyer, a damn good one at that. It’s amazing how he even knew that considering you don’t remember telling him nor did you share any inclination with even your friends that you were planning to go to Uni for it. It wasn’t for any reason other than usually when you tell someone you are going to do something, you end up never achieving it.
However, he missed the mark on the marriage front. Between the demands of University and your intensive full-time job, which frequently spills over into overtime, your romantic life has mostly consisted of fleeting Tinder dates and occasional hookups. Yet, it's not a life steeped in sorrow, marriage and children have never ranked high on your list of priorities, so you harbour no discontentment with your current relationship status, not really...
Suppressing the lump in your throat, you resort to the timeless ritual that any single woman in her mid-twenties indulges in upon discovering that someone from high school had an interest in her, particularly when she once found him undeniably attractive and frequently mentioned him to her closest friends back in the day: you embark on an Instagram stalking expedition, naturally.
Abandoning your pile of emails and the documents of your current case, you cast aside all distractions in a quest for Jaeyun. Despite only sharing a couple of conversations with him that linger in your memory, you're compelled to uncover what he's been up to. Typing his name into the search bar, you hold your breath, hoping that finding him won't prove too difficult given his distinctive name.
Thankfully, user simjakeyun emerges with ease, and in no time, you find yourself perusing his profile.
There he is, just as you recall him - those beguiling puppy eyes you once avoided now ensnaring you with their warmth, and that infectious smile rendering him ageless. As you delve into his world, you're entranced by the adventures he shares and the moments he has captured. His life appears so rich and fulfilling that you can't help but feel a pang of contrast with the dreary confines of your current office.
As you scroll, you see how he is embracing life to its fullest, travelling the world and seeing countries you can’t even point out on a map, all while you find yourself tethered to the prison of your office walls for hours on end. It's not that you despise your own life, but in this moment of comparison, a sense of discontentment begins to gnaw at you.
There are a few girls on his page but none that are consistent, with no wedding ring and no kids, you wonder whether it’s worth dropping him a message.
Are you really going to slide into Sim Jaeyun’s DMs? Yes. Yes, you are.
Creating a new private message, you hesitate, staring at his profile picture at the top of the screen. That beautiful smile makes you second-guess yourself. Why would he care about a silly little message from you? He’s out there striving and thriving, while your Instagram chronicles the life of a busy lawyer with only two close friends and an obvious wine addiction due to the countless glasses that makes frequent appearances.
You linger on the message screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. The doubts swirl in your mind, but something pushes you forward. Taking a deep breath, you begin to type.
"Hey Jaeyun, it's been ages! I just stumbled across your profile and couldn't resist saying hi. It looks like you've been on some incredible adventures. How have you been?"
You pause, re-reading the message. It feels both too casual and overly formal at the same time. With a sigh, you delete the last sentence and try again. Your mind is screaming at you not to bring up the letter, yet it might be the only way to get a response. At the end of the day, he was right - you weren’t friends in school, so why pretend you were just to start a conversation? Surely, that would make him think you were a weirdo.
But he told you he might be in love you, and you’ve gone ten years without knowing. Bringing it up could be the key to getting a genuine reaction from him, but it could also backfire spectacularly. He might recoil, feel uncomfortable, and even block you completely. You know you'd have that reaction if the roles were reversed.
Taking a deep breath, you decide to take the plunge. You start typing a new message, carefully choosing your words.
Hi Jaeyun! I don’t know if you remember me but the funniest thing just happened. Do you remember Mr. Yang made us write those letters to someone in the class that would be sent ten years later? I got one today…from you, actually! You probably won’t remember but I thought I would let you know that I got it and thank you :)
You hesitate before hitting send, re-reading it over and over again to avoid spelling mistakes and accidentally telling him that he told you he loved you. As the message goes through, your heart races and a mix of anxiety and anticipation swirls inside you. This is a leap of faith, and all you can do now is wait.
_____
Unfortunately, all you do is wait because it's been two days, and Jaeyun hasn't replied. The silence is deafening, amplifying your doubts and fears. You replay the message over and over in your mind, wondering if you said too much or too little.
It has to be because you mentioned the letter; he probably has a girlfriend. It wouldn't be uncommon for a guy as gorgeous as him to be snapped up quickly. He probably has one of those stunning girlfriends with long blonde hair and a figure straight out of Vogue.
You try to push the thoughts aside, but they persist, gnawing at you. Doubts mingle with vivid imaginations of his perfect life, further widening the gap between your reality and the fantasy you've constructed. Much like he passively fantasised about the prospect of being your husband all those years ago, you now find yourself lying on your couch, imagining what it would be like to be his wife.
The images in your mind are vivid and alluring: travelling the world together, exploring new places, sharing laughs and quiet moments. You picture the two of you living in a charming apartment, hosting dinner parties, and supporting each other through life's ups and downs. The fantasy is intoxicating, but it also leaves you feeling a bit hollow as you contrast it with your current life.
Why are you thinking about all of that about a man you haven't seen or cared about in 10 years? Are you really that desperate, wallowing over what could have been when you had practically forgotten about him?
The more you dwell on it, the more you realise how much you've let his lack of response affect you. Deciding that it's time to regain control of your thoughts, you put your phone aside and focus on something productive. You dive into cleaning your house, finally discarding the takeaway boxes and clothes thrown around the room.
As you clean, the physical activity provides a welcome distraction and a sense of accomplishment. You clear the clutter, creating a more organised and inviting space. Each piece of trash you throw away and each item you put back in its place helps you feel more in control. The mess around you had mirrored the turmoil in your mind, and now, with each cleaned surface, you feel a bit more at peace.
You remind yourself of your strengths and the life you've built. Your career, your friends, your favourite plant that you bought on a whim - all these things are a testament to the vibrant and dynamic life you lead. You're not defined by a response from Jaeyun.
His life is not yours and yours is not his. You are an independent-
*ping*
Leaping over your couch, you unlock your phone and see the Instagram notification and smile brightly, like it was a job offer you’ve been patiently awaiting or an early release of your favourite manga. The rush of anticipation and excitement courses through you as you eagerly open the app to read Jaeyun's message.
Hey there! Sorry about the delay in getting back to you. I've been on a marathon journey back from the UK over the past few days. Opted for the budget ticket, and obviously, it turned into a 36-hour saga with three stopovers 😅. But hey, I'm finally back home!
It's genuinely awesome to hear from you! Can you believe that letter actually made its way to you? I half-suspected it was some scheme Mr. Yang cooked up to sneak a smoke break with Mr. Kim lol.
I remember writing that letter! I said a few things in there...didn’t I? 😳 So, are you still in town? We should totally catch up tomorrow if you're free. I'm all yours if you'll have me.
Your heart skips a beat as you read Jaeyun's message, a rush of excitement coursing through you. His casual tone and mention of the letter bring a smile to your face. It's a relief to see that he's not put off or weirded out by your message; instead, he seems genuinely happy to hear from you.
His apparent recollection of what he said in the letter adds a layer of complexity to the situation. He may want to meet up to address it, perhaps to clarify that it was meant as a joke or to downplay its significance. You find yourself mentally preparing for the possibility of him saying something along the lines of, "Hey, sorry, that was just a joke, so please don't read into it."
While you tell yourself that you'll accept his explanation, deep down, you know that these past two days have shown that you may not take it as casually as you initially thought. If a simple message, or lack thereof, got you in such a tizzy, you can't imagine how you'd react to a rejection of a confession that you didn't even make.
Regardless, you type your response rapidly, not caring if it makes you look desperate and available.
You must be exhausted after travelling! But I'm glad you made it back home safe and sound. I'm free tomorrow. Can you do after 6pm? There's this cosy cafe downtown that's perfect for catching up, it’s called Daisies. I'll make sure to save you a seat. Looking forward to it!
With a quick tap, you send the message, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness about tomorrow's meeting. However, you don’t get long to be alone with your thoughts as another ping of your phone comes through.
Do they do double Jack and Cokes? I think I might need it if I remember what I wrote lol…😅
In all honesty, you might need one as well.
_____
Straightening the napkins on the table for the seventh time in the space of an hour, you watch the door patiently, anticipation coursing through your veins, waiting for Jaeyun to walk through the glass door of the bar you had both settled on. Each of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to have this conversation without some form of alcohol.
It’s not that you’re nervous about seeing him again; after all, you used to see him every day. But it's the weight of the conversation that looms over you. The realisation that the first real conversation you are going to have with him throughout all these years is about a letter he confessed to you in - a letter never meant for you to read because he thought it was a hoax assignment. His actions, unintentional as they may have been, have consequences, and you can't shake the uncertainty of it all.
As the minutes tick by, each second feels heavier than the last. You find yourself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, replaying scenarios and conversations in your mind, trying to predict how tonight's encounter might unfold. Will Jaeyun be as casual and friendly as his messages suggested, or will there be an underlying tension lingering beneath the surface?
The sound of the door opening snaps you out of your reverie, and you glance up, heart pounding, only to find it's just another punter entering the bar. You let out a sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly, but the anticipation remains palpable.
You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm and composed. This is just Sim Jaeyun, not an ex, not a lost lover, not your dad’s work colleague—there is nothing to be nervous about.
“Y/N?”
Jaeyun’s melodious voice breaks through your thoughts, and you look up to meet his gaze with wide eyes, startled by his sudden appearance. How on earth did he manage to slip through that door without you noticing? The surprise registers on your face as you take in his presence, a mix of amusement and disbelief dancing in your eyes.
"Jaeyun, hey!" you exclaim, your voice betraying your surprise as it breaks, forcing you to clear the bubble in your throat and quickly regain your composure. “I mean, when did you get here?”
He laughs loudly, the rich sound filling the room as he takes the seat opposite to you. The genuine warmth of his smile is infectious, closing his eyes slightly as he enjoys the moment. “Just a minute ago, I went up to the bar first to order us a drink. You like white wine, yeah?”
Nodding, you tilt your head, intrigued. “Yeah, how did you know that?”
“I saw you started without me,” Jaeyun chuckles once again, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes as he points to your empty glass, “I made an educated guess.”
You can't help but marvel at Jaeyun's appearance. His features are striking, his smile infectious, and there's a certain magnetism about him that draws you in. It's as if he effortlessly commands attention without even trying. A face that gorgeous shouldn’t be allowed to roam so freely, you think to yourself. It should come with a warrant, or at the very least a warning label.
He’s also wearing a pretty cream jacket with a simple white Stussy t-shirt, and some cargo jeans. His hair is much longer than when he was younger, with whisps of his fringe covering his face.
It’s parallel to your business-casual outfit, having just come from the office you decided to opt for a baby pink blouse - in honour of your hero Elle Woods, a cream thigh-length skirt, and a pair of kitten heels. It wasn’t exactly how you wished to dress while meeting Jaeyun again for the first time but due to having consultation with clients, you couldn’t exactly wear a little black dress.
Not that Jaeyun minds; as you’re lost in thought, his eyes are tracing over your body, how your clothes look tailor-made and your tits are sitting beautifully. He feels like a perv for staring at you, this is the first time he’s seen you in so long and here he is, eye fucking you. Though who could blame him? Even as he focuses on your face, forcing his eyes to leave the contours of your curves, all he can stare at is your lips and how they’ve been freshly glossed.
Clearing his throat, Jaeyun tries to shake off the inappropriate thoughts flooding his mind. "So, how have you been?" he asks, his smile innocent yet tinged with nervousness.
"Good. Yeah, good. You?" you respond, keeping your tone neutral, not revealing too much about your well-being. To you, your life is boring and lacks anything worth speaking about.
"Yeah...good," Jaeyun replies, the awkward tension between you palpable in the air.
The atmosphere strange, a tense undercurrent clouding the breezy air. Being alone with him, even being with him at all, feels unfamiliar and stirs a tinge of awkwardness in you. Luckily, he seems just as uneasy.
But when your eyes finally meet, you both burst out laughing, the tension melting away. The sound of your harmonious laughter fills the bar, louder than the soft hum of music or the chatter of others in the background.
His laugh is just as infectious as you remember it, filling the air with its higher-pitched squeals that seem to come in four successions. You watch with fondness as his body leans to the side, his eyes scrunching together in pure joy. It's a sight you hadn't realised you missed until now, a flood of memories rushing back to you in an instant. You hadn't known you knew that about him - the way he laughs, the way he tilts his head when he finds something amusing - but now, it's like a long-lost memory has suddenly resurfaced, and you're hateful to yourself for ever forgetting.
He straightens up, shaking his head to calm his amusement, yet the smile still beams from his face. Huffing out, he nods and looks at you, as though agreeing with his thoughts. “You know, I just realised that we haven’t ever spoken, so this is a bit awkward, isn’t it?”
Shaking your head, you lean forward, your fingers deftly smoothing out the tiniest wrinkle in your shirt as you relax, feeling your body shift with the new atmosphere. “That isn’t true, we had that conversation during country dancing classes.”
“Oh, you mean, ‘Can you not step on my foot, please?’ I would hardly count it as a conversation,” he dismisses it lightheartedly, offering you another chuckle as he remembers.
What he doesn’t know is that you do count it. It was your first proper encounter with him, and even though he kept squashing your toe under his tatty trainers, you let it go because it was also the first time you heard that melodic Australian accent say your name as he mumbled a quick, ‘sorry, Y/N’.
You both laugh again at the memory before the waiter brings over your drinks. “Cheers, mate. Thanks.” Jaeyun smiles politely at the man. It’s the bare minimum to thank your server, yet you can’t stop the butterflies in your stomach as he does so. It’s a testament to his kindness because most of the guys you have ever dated have been the type to snap their fingers or complain about the tiniest thing that could easily be fixed.
Not Jaeyun though, he is far too sweet to act like an arsehole. You haven’t even spent 10 minutes with him and you already know it.
As the waiter walks away, you reach for your wine before stopping for a beat, looking at it thoughtfully. There is a slice of lemon inside the glass, the sight peculiar not because you don’t like it, but rather because you do like it. It’s not conventional to have any garnishes on wine; most connoisseurs say that the wine is already perfect as made. But you like things extra bitter and everything citrus; it’s been this way since college.
You glance at Jaeyun as he sips his Jack and Coke, his attention solely on his drink, seemingly oblivious to your curiosity. Could he have known you liked wine this way? But how? It’s not like you brought a 125ml and a wedge to school. And you certainly don’t come here frequently enough for the bartender to remember you or your order.
The thought niggles at the back of your mind as you take another sip of your wine, mulling over the possibilities. Perhaps it's just a coincidence, you tell yourself, trying to rationalise the situation. But it also isn’t a big deal, you got what you wanted without asking for it which is a very rare occurrence, so you’ll take it and run.
Setting the thought aside, you indulge in a sip of the crisp wine, a contented hum escaping your lips as you enjoy the taste. With a playful shoulder dance, you set the glass down on the table. “So, how has life been since you left school?” you ask casually, even though as you glance up at him, you catch him licking the residue of his drink from his lips and it makes your body flush with heat.
Your gaze lingers for a moment longer than intended, a fleeting moment of admiration as you catch the subtle details of his expression.
“Really…amazing actually,” he begins, his voice laced with a sense of joy as a broad smile lights up his face. “When I left, I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so I just got a part-time job, saved up enough to travel and see my brother back in Australia, and from there...just travelled. I did odd jobs to make money, enough to pay rent for a few months at each place.”
As Jaeyun speaks, you can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy creeping into your thoughts. His carefree lifestyle, filled with adventure and spontaneity, sounds like a dream compared to your own mundane existence of endless paperwork and court cases.
“Wow, that sounds incredible,” you respond, trying to mask the envy in your voice with genuine interest. “Must have been amazing to just pick up and go wherever you want.”
Jaeyun nods enthusiastically, his eyes alight with the memories of his adventures. “It is liberating, honestly. I’ve learned so much about myself and the world. It was good for me, it turned out to be exactly what I needed.”
He takes another sip of his JD, his expression shifting to one of apology as he notices the dejected look on your face. “But what about you? Aren’t you a fancy lawyer now? That’s way more impressive than a country-hopper.”
You know he's just trying to be polite, but his words only serve to magnify your own feelings of inadequacy. In no world is your tiresome job and lack of social life anywhere near as impressive as what he has managed to accomplish in 10 years.
Taking a big swig of your drink, you bob your head from side to side, downplaying the enormity of your profession. “Yeah, it’s okay. It pays well and I do love it some days. I work in corporate law, so it isn’t as exciting as I would have liked.”
“You wanted to do immigration law, right?” Jaeyun asks, his tone is casual but his question catches you off guard.
You pause, your eyes narrowing with scepticism as you look at him. It's one thing for him to recall your career aspirations, but for him to remember the specific field you were interested in seems almost uncanny. After all, you never spoke about it except in your university applications. So unless he had some insider knowledge, there's no reason for him to know such specific details.
Nodding slowly, you set your wine glass down and lean back. “Yeah… how did you know that? I never told anyone about it.”
“I guess I'm just quite the observer,” he jokes, though there's a hint of sheepishness in his tone as he scratches the back of his neck. He curses himself inwardly for being so casual about a minute detail that he knows he shouldn’t know. “I actually, uh, I saw you checking out an Immigration Law and Social Justice book one day. Figured that’s what you wanted to do.”
Jaeyun wasn’t lying; that really was how he knew. It was just before summer break, and he was returning his physics books when he noticed you in front of him, a pile of books in one arm, the first one being about immigration law.
You look up to the ceiling, a smile of understanding spreading across your face as you let out a contented 'oh', finally piecing together the mystery. "That makes sense now. I was so confused when you wrote about me going on to become a lawyer in that letter because I could have sworn I never uttered a word to anyone."
“That’s right! I predicted you would be a snooty lawyer,” he exclaims, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he lightly bangs his fist on the table. His chuffed grin widens, spreading across his face like he's just won the first question on a quiz show.
Laughing, you nod in agreement. You don’t tell him that he never called you snooty because he also isn’t wrong as he adds the adjective. Although you’re easy going outside of the office, you hold yourself with high pride while at work, looking down on the men you work with. Perhaps you would be more kind if they weren’t gigantic arseholes with no morals.
So in that sense, yes, yes you are snooty.
“You also said I would be married with kids,” you point out, a chuckle escaping your lips as you recall the absurdity of the prediction.
“So? Did I get two for two?” Jaeyun retorts, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he wiggles his eyebrows. Beneath his casual demeanour, though, a subtle flutter stirs in his heart at the mention of a husband. He wants you to be happy, obviously - why wouldn’t he? But he can’t deny the pang of jealousy that tugs at him at the prospect of you being happy with another man.
You notice the subtle shift in Jaeyun's manner, the conflict between his words and the emotion flickering in his eyes, but you choose to let it pass without comment. Instead, you simply shake your head and lift your eyebrows, taking another sip of your white wine. If you don’t slow down, you’ll be finished five of these before Jaeyun has even made a dent in his first drink.
He audibly gasps at your silent confession, his surprise evident in the way his eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly. As much as he had hoped you wouldn’t have a man waiting for you at home, he can’t believe that you don’t.
“Seriously? I would have thought someone would have snapped you up in a heartbeat,” he admits, still flabbergasted that the bright and beautiful woman sitting before him is, in fact, single.
“Nope. I guess it’s just like high school,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly as you downplay the situation. Despite trying to be casual about it all, a hint of vulnerability lingers beneath the surface. You know how it looks, being in your mid-twenties and never having been in a serious relationship. It has made you wonder countless times about what could possibly be so repulsive that men don’t want to pursue a relationship with you.
But then you remember the richness of your life - a nice cosy flat, paying all your own bills, having friends who love you unconditionally, and a supportive family who stands by every decision you make. In the grand scheme of things, your life is fulfilling in its own right, far beyond the confines of a romantic relationship.
It doesn’t mean you don’t sometimes feel like you’re missing out though, but you've come to appreciate the career-driven journey that is yours alone.
Jaeyun's laughter fills the air, warm and genuine, but there's a certain intensity in his gaze as he looks you dead in the eyes. His iris’, a shade of deep brown flecked with golden hues, seem to hold a wealth of unspoken words, as if there's something he's yearning to express beyond the surface banter.
“Like high school? As in you’re too busy to notice people looking your way?” he quips, his voice light but tinged with a hint of vulnerability. There's a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a silent recognition of the unspoken truths dancing between you due to one letter.
This damn letter.
“You did mention how you would always look at me. Although, you made it very clear you were not a stalker,” you remark with a snort of laughter, thinking back to the playful disclaimer he had included in his letter. The tension between you dissipates slightly as you both chuckle loudly with one another much like before.
Even when the air is awkward, you both still manage to find comfort in it. Perhaps it’s because you both share feelings that none of you are aware of. As far as you’re concerned, he left those feelings behind in secondary school, and he thinks you’ve never cared about him at all.
Jaeyun covers his face as the memories invade his mind of writing and re-writing the paragraph to make you abundantly aware that he did not sit outside your house at night and watch you through the window - a sentence which was in the first draft - or that he didn’t transfer classes to National 3 Maths to be close to you - even though he did and he should have graduated high school with National 5, sacrificing his academic standing just to have the seat close to yours.
“Can I read it? I need to know what I should specifically be apologising for,” Jaeyun titters, his voice muffled by the palms of his hands as he peeks through his fingers at you. The request hangs in the air, laced with a mix of curiosity and trepidation, as if he's both eager and apprehensive to revisit the words he had penned so long ago.
Reaching for your phone in your bag, you nod, trifling through the empty wrappers of gum and secret chocolate bars you sneakily eat in the office. The last time you ate your well-deserved Mars bar, your boss made a snide comment about how you must be starting your period soon. It’s men like him that make Jaeyun’s bare minimum of thanking the waiter a much-needed standard.
You retrieve your phone and open up the letter, passing it to him which he awkwardly accepts, smiling apologetically at you already for whatever 16-year-old him thought was appropriate to say. He begins to scroll, his face changing from amusement to disdain and then back to amusement. Yet one solid feature is etched on his face the entire time, hiding behind the other emotions he is portraying but you can’t figure it out.
You observe Jaeyun as he clicks the phone to lock it, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face before he passes it back to you. There's a hint of apprehension in his eyes, mingled with a quiet resignation, yet he does what Jaeyun does best; he smiles and washes his true feelings away.
“It was even more cringe-worthy than I remember, I seriously gotta apologise that you had to read all of that,” he says with a self-deprecating chuckle, his tone light but carrying a hint of genuine remorse. It's his way of deflecting, of downplaying his confession, but you can't help but sense the underlying sincerity beneath his words.
"I honestly thought it was a joke when I opened it and saw your name," you admit softly, wary of your words. You don't want him to think you found his feelings laughable, but rather that receiving a love letter at all was the punchline, particularly back then.
Contrary to his portrayal in the letter, you didn't consider yourself pretty or beautiful in high school. You felt average, plagued by acne, with scars that still dot your face as lingering reminders. Your hair was often a mess, your face untouched by makeup, and you never settled on a style, finding them all too mismatched with your personality.
Upon hearing your confession, Jaeyun's eyes widen in disbelief. "Seriously? Why?"
You shrug, picking up your glass and swirling it thoughtfully before responding. "You were with Chris and the others, and let's be honest, they weren't exactly my best friends," you scoff, recalling the snide comments his friends used to make in passing, or the 'accidental' bumps that would cause you to drop your phone or books.
There is a pregnant pause in the air as Jaeyun's expression softens with understanding, a hint of regret shadowing his features. "I'm sorry you had to deal with all that," he murmurs, genuine remorse colouring his tone.
You offer a small, dismissive wave of your hand, attempting to brush off the memories. "Water under the bridge now," you say, though the bitterness still lingers beneath the surface. It wasn’t his fault; he had no control over his friends' actions, and in hindsight, he was the one in the group who never laughed at your discomfort or instigated trouble for you. He was always there to offer you an apologetic smile when you needed it.
Back then, it was hard to see him as an individual from the others, considering he was always by their side. But in retrospect you realise that your crush on him had been rooted in an unspoken recognition of his genuine and kind nature, even if in high school you couldn’t fully see it. You never hated him, the opposite in fact, and there was a reason for that.
A chuckle escapes Jaeyun's lips, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "If it makes you feel better, I got my wish," he says, laughter lacing his words as he knocks back the rest of his drink. "Half of them peaked in school, and Chris is divorced and balding as we speak."
You can't help but laugh along with him, the irony not lost on you. "Well, karma works in mysterious ways," you quip, raising your glass in a mock toast to the twists of fate.
Jaeyun grins, clinking his glass against yours. "Cheers to that."
Settling comfortably back in your seat, you smile fondly at him. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, you feel at ease. There’s something about him that makes you feel safe, a sense that no matter what’s going on in your mind, he can calm you down. You recall his words in the letter, how he could look at you and instantly feel better.
Jaeyun's gaze holds a gentle intensity, his eyes sparkling with a glint of satisfaction as he observes your visibly relaxed state. "It's nice seeing you like this," he murmurs softly, a hint of warmth lacing his voice. "I always hoped we'd have a moment like this someday."
You hum softly, grinning sheepishly at the prospect that Sim Jaeyun could have thought about you even after your school years. It does beg the elephant in the room to be addressed, however, both of you sneaking around the main focus of his written word.
"In the letter," you begin, feeling a curious mix of apprehension and anticipation swirl in your chest. The question hovers on the tip of your tongue, laden with the weight of untold possibilities. "Why didn’t you ask me out?"
The inquiry catches Jaeyun off guard, momentarily stalling his easy demeanour. He blinks, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he recovers with a thoughtful expression. It's evident that he hadn't anticipated such directness from you, despite knowing your inquisitive nature all too well.
Straightening out his jacket with a nervous flick, Jaeyun adjusts his posture to convey a sense of faux confidence. He clears his throat and licks his lips, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "I shouldn’t have been a coward," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.
Jaeyun's candid admission bubbles shock into you, yet you find it refreshing coming from a man. You nod in understanding, silently acknowledging his confession.
"You were just…you," he says, meeting your eyes with candour. "Smart, attractive, career-oriented, and determined to change the world. And I was just a screwy little kid with no life aspirations and nothing to offer a girl like you."
His words resonate within you, with a genuine honesty that is both disarming and charming. Despite his self-deprecating tone, you can't help but be empathic to the vulnerability he's exhibiting.
"I didn't see you that way," you say, your voice soft but genuine, hoping to convey that you never considered him beneath you. In your view, you could never be on his level, not in a negative sense, but in the understanding that he exuded charisma and confidence that seemed out of reach. Your personalities were too contrasting, with him being cool and outgoing, while you felt you would have fallen short.
Jaeyun lets out a rueful laugh, a wry smile playing on his lips. "You didn't see me at all, did you?" he replies, his tone carrying a mix of self-awareness and resignation.
His words hit you like a blow to the chest, a painful realisation dawning upon you. You wince, feeling yourself crumble inward, the weight of missed opportunities and unspoken truths bearing down heavily on your shoulders. If you had stuck your head out of your own bubble, maybe you would be sitting and having a drink with him as something more than high school could haves.
"I'm sorry about that," you say, your voice laced with regret. "I was so focused on studying and staying away from your crowd that I just didn't see."
Jaeyun's expression softens, his features reflecting a mixture of empathy and knowing. "It's alright," he says gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on yours. “The way you were back then, it was exactly the reason I lo-, I liked you so much,” he confesses sheepishly, stumbling over his words as he skirts around the most obviously avoided topic of his letter.
Shaking off the intensity of the moment, Jaeyun gestures for the waiter to return, his easy smile returning as he orders more drinks, figuring that if he’s sipping, he isn’t saying something he might regret.
“So, tell me about being a lawyer.”
_____
For the next three hours, you both speak about everything and anything; from his adventurous travels to your disastrous dates, from your awful bosses to the state of the government, you discuss it all. Each topic seamlessly flows into another, and you find yourself conversing with ease, as if you're best friends on your weekly catch up.
As the evening progresses, you've shared stories, laughter, and even a few moments of vulnerability. The wine has flowed freely, the bottle emptying with each heartfelt story, while Jaeyun has indulged in his fair share of Jack and Coke, the familiar burn of the alcohol helping to dissolve any lingering feelings of apprehension.
Despite the passage of time and the years spent apart, it feels as though no time has passed at all. You find yourself effortlessly connecting with Jaeyun, discovering new facets of his personality with each shared anecdote and heartfelt confession. You wonder if you would have gotten along this well in secondary school.
"Is this you back for good then or?" you ask, the wine buzz kicking into your system enough to make you lean forward, resting your chin on your hand as you gaze at him with an undercurrent of longing.
Jaeyun's expression softens, his eyes never meeting yours but they shine with a hint of something you cannot put your finger on. "I'm actually going to Malta the day after tomorrow. This was just a flying visit," he replies, his tone tinged with a sense of wistfulness.
The news comes as bittersweet to you because just as you had Jaeyun within reach, he is also leaving you just as quickly. But you’re also envious that while you have to get up early and represent people in a boardroom who only see value in money and nothing else, he is galavanting to another dream destination.
"Ugh, I am so jealous!" you proclaim, unable to hide the playful pout that forms on your lips. Your declaration elicits a hearty laugh from Jaeyun, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he shakes his head, seemingly amused by the idea of someone successful like you being envious of him.
Because little do you know, that behind the facade of excitement of his adventures lies a loneliness he's kept hidden for years. He couch surfs, has little money to his name, and lacks solid friends to call in times of need. He hasn’t even seen his family in years, missing out on cherished moments like Christmas and birthdays. Despite the allure of adventure and freedom, his heart aches for companionship, for someone to share his experiences with.
As if a lightbulb goes off atop his head, he bites his lip and begins to speak. “You could co-”
“Sorry guys, we actually need this table for a last-minute reservation, could you sit at the bar until a free table is available?” The interruption from your waiter cuts off Jaeyun before he can finish his sentence, leaving him momentarily stunned.
You glance at your phone and smile, "It’s getting late anyway so we should go. Thank you though," you respond politely, masking any disappointment you might feel.
Jaeyun nods in agreement, thanking the waiter once again before standing up. He holds out his hand for you to take as you rise from your chair, an action that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. It’s not the gesture itself but the way he extended his hand without thinking about it.
Taking Jaeyun’s hand, you stand up, careful not to bump into anything as you step out from behind the table. Together, you retreat outside, the cool night air hitting your alcohol-flushed faces, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the crowded restaurant. The sensation brings a sense of relief, washing away the residual tension from the interrupted conversation.
Jaeyun notices the icy air, but instead of embracing it, his gaze falls on you, and he can't help but notice how your thin blouse must be providing little protection against the chill. Swiftly, he takes off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, adjusting it with care to ensure you're snug and warm.
You're taken aback by his offer, feeling a rush of gratitude and warmth flood through you at his thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," you say softly, a smile touching your lips as you pull the jacket tighter around you.
He returns your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine affection. “Let me walk you home?” he offers, his tone gentle yet insistent.
You hesitate for a moment, trying to save him the inconvenience, but he's not fooled. Jaeyun knows the dangers of a woman walking alone at night, and while he trusts your ability to handle yourself, he wouldn't feel right if he left you and something did happen. Plus, deep down, he relishes the opportunity to spend as much time with you as possible.
Touched by his concern, you look up at him and offer a small smile. "I only live down the road, I'll be fine," you assure him, though the underlying appreciation in your voice is evident.
Jaeyun shakes his head with determination, a glint of resolve in his eyes. "I insist," he says firmly, reaching for your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I won't take no for an answer."
His sincerity and insistence warm your heart, and you find yourself relenting, knowing that his company will make the short walk home all the more enjoyable. With a grateful nod, you lead the way, feeling a sense of comfort and safety in his presence as you navigate the dimly lit streets together.
You really do only live about 10 minutes away, so the walk is quick by usual standards. Yet, tonight, you find yourself taking your time, savouring each step as if seeing the world through a new lens. Perhaps it's the lingering effects of the wine, or maybe it's the comforting presence of Jaeyun's hand in yours, but suddenly, the world feels lighter and fresher than it did just this morning.
As you stroll through the streets, you notice the ebb and flow of life around you. People are walking into bars, some are finishing up for the day, and others are simply enjoying a leisurely evening stroll. The streets hum with a busy yet serene energy, a unique blend of activity and tranquillity that can only be found when there's no rush to get from A to B.
Reaching your apartment building, you slow your pace, allowing yourself to take in the familiar surroundings with newfound appreciation. The soft glow of the streetlights casts a warm ambience over the building's facade, while the gentle hum of the city envelops you both.
You pause in front of the entrance, turning to Jaeyun with a smile. "This is me," you say, gesturing with the hand clasped in his, pulling him out of whatever thoughts have plagued him this whole journey.
While you were admiring your hometown, Jaeyun was overcome with thoughts that, once you reach your flat, this could be the last time he sees you again. He doesn’t want to come across as greedy for your time or clingy considering this is the first time you’ve both interacted in ten years, but he had so much fun that he doesn’t want it to end here.
Luckily for him, you have the same thoughts even if you aren’t projecting them in your manner the same way he is. “Would you like to come up?”
Your invitation hangs in the air, laden with the unspoken hope of spending just a little more time in each other’s company or maybe something else. Jaeyun's heart skips a beat as he meets your gaze, seeing a glimmer of anticipation reflected in your eyes. He hesitates for only a moment, the weight of his own desires battling against his fear of overstepping.
But in the end, the pull of your company proves too strong to resist. With a soft smile, Jaeyun nods, his voice barely above a whisper. "If that’s okay, I would love to."
The thing about you both is that you’re seeking companionship in one another while also oblivious that the other feels the same way. You aren’t noticing how Jaeyun subtly prolonged the walk, pulling you back a few times as if reluctant to let the evening end. And he certainly didn’t notice the hopeful glint in your eyes as you asked him for another bout of his time, knowing what this could lead to.
As you both step into the building and make your way up the stairs to your apartment, there's a quiet anticipation between you, a sense of possibility tinged with the thrill of the unknown. Each step brings you closer together, the space between you filled with unspoken thoughts and unvoiced desires.
As you unlock the door and step inside, the warmth of your home envelops you, a comforting embrace that welcomes Jaeyun into your world.
You are also very glad that you had that anxiety-induced cleanathon.
Jaeyun wipes his feet on your doormat before heading inside, looking around at your quaint yet busy home. “Your flat is nice. Homely.”
“I’m either here or the office so…” you explain, taking your shoes and his jacket off, discarding them on their appropriate stands.
Since you spend a lot of evenings in your office, which is sterile and minimalistic, you wanted the opposite tone for your house. You filled it with knick-knacks and plants, every available surface adorned with shelves or posters, while the warm orange paint added a cosy glow to the environment. This was your sanctuary and you couldn’t love it any more.
You wonder if you would love it so much if your office wasn’t your only other option of residence.
You open the refrigerator and peep at the beverages you have on hand. "Do you want a beer, wine, or I can make a coffee?” You offer, grinning and looking at Jaeyun.
“Beer sounds good, thank you,” Jaeyun replies, his attention drifting towards one of your paintings that hangs just beside a free-standing bookshelf filled with your favourite romance and fantasy books.
You don’t get the chance to read as often as you would like, but when you do, it has to be filled with a romance that is so out of reach that you can convince yourself that it would never happen to you anyway. If it’s too realistic, you start to feel a little burdened at the lack of love you receive from a partner.
Grabbing a beer for him and a glass of white for yourself, you make your way over to him, extending your hand as you offer him the ice-cold drink. He accepts it with an appreciative nod and suddenly, his eyes dart over to your University degrees, each one showcasing your incredible knowledge and talent. You always ended up top of your class with first honours, a testament to your hard work.
“You really made something of yourself, Y/N. It’s incredible.” Jaeyun says softly, clinking your glass with his bottle.
“Eh, it’s all amazing and then you’re suddenly working crazy hours with not so much as a thank you,” you shrug, voice bitter as you think about all the times your dedication to your clients goes by unnoticed. You don’t do it for the acknowledgment, however, when your colleagues are getting praise for doing the bare minimum, it starts to nag at you.
Turning to you, he tilts his head, “Do you hate it?”
Do you? That’s the big question. Maybe if you had stuck to immigration law like you wanted and weren’t swayed towards corporate all because your University advisor had told you ‘It’s what is best for someone of your calibre’ then maybe, just maybe, you would be content. You aren’t being fulfilled the way you hoped you would.
“I don’t think I hate the work as much as I hate the people. They are soulless, money-hungry, misogynistic pigs with no manners,” you say spitefully, the anger bubbling inside you evident in the fire that flashes in your eyes. As much as the job might not be totally fulfilling, you think you would enjoy it more if the men in your office or those you represent had even a shred of respect for you.
Your shoulders tense, the frustration threatening to overwhelm you, but as you hear Jaeyun’s subtle laughter, you whip your head around and knit your brows together. “What?” you demand, your tone sharp with irritation. There was nothing funny in your statement, so you're finding it rather difficult to understand the chuckle that is flooding your ear.
“No, no, I’m not laughing at your struggles,” he says softly, sensing your manner change to slightly standoffish. “It’s just…you haven’t changed. You’re still passionate and driven. Just like the girl I fell in--”
He stops himself abruptly, the words dying on his lips as he realises what he was about to say. Mentally kicking himself for almost letting slip, not once, but twice tonight, he trails off into an awkward silence, the unspoken words hanging heavily between you.
But you can’t let it slide a second time. If you’re going to talk about it, now is as good a time as any.
You inhale deeply, the air heavy as you gather your courage to broach the difficult conversation. It’s not one you particularly want to have, but you know it's necessary nonetheless. Steadying yourself, you meet Jaeyun's gaze with determination, steeling yourself for what's to come.
“Jaeyun, when you wrote that you thought you loved me in that letter, was it true?”
His initial shake of the head sends a pang of disappointment through you, but before you can fully process it, he continues, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity. He places his beer on the unit beside him and takes a step forward, his expression earnest.
“No,” he begins, and for a moment, you brace yourself for the finality of his words. But then he surprises you, his next words washing over you like a wave of relief and warmth. “I didn’t think I loved you, I knew it. I just didn’t want to come across as weird or pathetic.”
His honesty leaves you momentarily speechless, your heart racing as you take in the depth of his confession. And as he reaches out, gently taking the wine from your slightly trembling hands and setting it aside, your breath catches in your throat.
With both his hands cradling your face, you find yourself drawn into his gaze, the intensity of his eyes locking with yours. In that moment, time seems to stand still, the world around you fading into the background as you lose yourself in the connection between you.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, I really am,” Jaeyun admits, his voice laced with regret as he pours out his heart to you. His eyes close for a moment, as if savouring the sensation of your face under his fingertips, the soft beating of your heart a comforting rhythm in the silence between you.
“Adult me hates teenage me for not jumping on the chance to tell you how beautiful and awe-inspiring I thought you were, that I still think you are,” he continues, his words filled with raw honesty. “I was scared because you were so out of my league that I felt ridiculous for even thinking you could love me back. I fucking regret it all because even though we never spoke, I knew I wanted to be with someone as brilliant and wonderful as you. I tried so hard to find someone like you over the years and yet not one person ever compared, because there is only one you, Y/N. And I hate that you weren’t mine for even a minute.”
You have no words to say and it agitates you because here was Jaeyun, telling you how he felt and you couldn’t even give him an ounce of assurance that you would have been his if he had just asked. Your feelings back then were not as intense as his but they were real all the same. No, you didn’t love him but you wonder if you could have.
Jaeyun leans in, resting his forehead against yours, nudging your nose with an affectionate, almost playful tenderness. His warm, alcohol-tinged breath washes over your face, causing you to close your eyes along with him, immersing yourself in the intimate moment passing between you both.
“I don’t want to make the same mistake, Y/N. I can’t.”
His words hang in the air, laden with meaning and urgency. Before you can fully process them, he kisses you. It's a kiss so tender, so full of reverence, it feels as if you were a delicate rose being presented to his most cherished person.
Despite the sincerity and fondness you feel through the gentle pressure of his lips, a wave of uncertainty washes over you. He is leaving for Malta in less than 48 hours, and the thought of the impending separation threatens to overshadow the moment of intimacy you share.
But in this moment, with Jaeyun's arms wrapped around you and his lips against yours, all thoughts of the future fade away. You're consumed by the warmth of his embrace, the sweetness of his kiss, and the undeniable chemistry that ignites between you.
You know there are risks involved, that giving yourself to him could lead to heartache when he inevitably leaves. But this might be the only chance to embrace him, to have him as your own, even for a moment, just as he had wanted all those years ago. Deep down, you know that you could live to regret not taking this chance, the same way he regrets not confessing to you in fourth year.
So you let your inhibitions go, allowing yourself to be swept away by the intensity of the moment. His tongue swipes over your lips, a soft purr escaping him as he seeks to taste more than just your cherry-tinted lip balm. You can't help but surrender to the intoxicating pull of desire.
He pushes you gently against the wall by your hips, his lips never leaving yours. His senses are overwhelmed by you in every way possible: the taste of you on his tongue, your perfume drifting into his nose, the feel of your body pressing against his, and the soft echoes of your moans filling his ears. He loves it all so much that he thinks he could get addicted to it.
As Jaeyun deepens the kiss, your hands instinctively find their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Each touch, each caress, feels electrifying, sparking a fervour that neither of you can ignore. The taste of him, mingled with the remnants of his drink, is intoxicating, making your heart race faster with every passing second.
Jaeyun’s hands wander from your hips, tracing the curves of your waist and back, committing the feel of you to memory. He pulls you closer, erasing any remaining space between you, the heat of his body seeping into yours. Your breaths come faster, mingling with his in the small, shared space between your mouths.
Breaking the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours once more, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes search yours, filled with an intensity that makes your knees weak. “Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ve wanted you for so long, even when I thought I would never see you again, I thought about you.”
“Yeah?” you ask breathlessly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, your fingers tangling in the soft strands.
Nodding, Jaeyun’s features shift, his gaze darkening with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. He kneels before you, his hands moving with deliberate slowness as he finds the zip at the back of your skirt. His fingers work the zipper down, the sound of it seeming loud in the charged silence of the room.
His eyes never leave yours as he sinks down, the skirt slipping down your legs to pool at your feet, leaving you in your white panties. The vulnerability of the moment sends a shiver down your spine, but Jaeyun's adoring gaze and gentle touch reassure you.
Jaeyun places his hands on your hips, his thumbs brushing over your skin in soothing circles. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe as he looks up at you from his kneeling position. His eyes trace the lines of your body, drinking in the sight of you.
The raw adoration in his gaze ignites a fire within you, and you feel a rush of emotions you can barely contain. “Jaeyun,” you breathe, your hands resting on his shoulders for balance as you steady yourself against the overwhelming surge of feelings.
His hands move from your hips to your thighs, his touch light but firm as he traces the contours of your legs. The anticipation builds with each gentle caress, your skin tingling under his fingertips. When he finally leans in, pressing a tender kiss just above the waistband of your panties, a soft gasp escapes your lips.
His touch is reverent, each movement deliberate and full of intent. He hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, looking up at you for permission. You nod, your breath hitching as he slowly slides them down, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.
Jaeyun’s mind races as he sees you in this vulnerable state, yet he is the one who feels exposed. His feelings are pouring out of him like never before, and it’s all down to the fact that you bring that side out of him. No 16 year old should have had the emotional intelligence to decipher a crush from love, yet with you as his focus on the subject, he knew exactly what it was. While his friends were goofing off with people at parties and at the bike rack at school in a fleeting fling, he was wondering how he could make you his.
Looking at your exposed heat, he places a soft, lingering kiss just above your clit, making you jolt. You hadn’t expected him to find it so quickly, yet, it was as easy for him to find as a horse in a cow farm, like he had been doing this for years with you.
Once he feels your fingers threading through his hair, massaging his scalp, he takes it as the go-ahead to dive in deeper and explore you in ways he only imagined he could. Placing your left leg over his right shoulder and keeping his grip on your thigh for balance, he dips his tongue into your folds, moving in slow but strong strokes, lapping your taste up in his mouth. If your lips had him intoxicated, your pussy had him obsessed.
You throw your head against the wall and buck your hips up to open yourself up further to him, allowing him the privilege to get lost between your thighs and drink you up like a man deprived of cold water on a hot day. He’s so eager to please you that you can sense how much he is enjoying this, maybe even more than you are.
Jaeyun’s tongue swirls at the entrance of your core before he pushes in, tracing the bumps of your wall as he explores your pretty pussy and its tightness; he can only imagine what his cock will feel like clamped inside you, if you grant him the honour to do so.
One thing you crushed on Jaeyun the most over in secondary school was his nose - the prominent feature stood out against everything else and you couldn’t help but marvel at it from time to time. Big noses have been your weakness since your hormones started to kick in and Jaeyun’s was perfect. You know this for a fact now as it brushes on your clit as he slurps and sucks up your cunt.
You revel in the sensation, how his enthusiastic and skilled mouth shivers down your spine. It's a testament to his attention to detail, his dedication to your pleasure evident in every movement, every touch.
His hands paw at your thighs as he loses himself in worshipping your mound. It’s tang on his taste buds only driving him further into madness - he can’t believe how lucky he is in this moment, so much so that he is grinning like a Cheshire cat as he continues to devour you.
“Jaeyun-” you breathe out sharply, the air in your chest leaving your body as he licks fast stipes up to your clit, focusing his attention where he knows you want it most. It is truly remarkable how well he knows you despite only knowing you from afar until now.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he mumbles into your cunt, burying his face into you as he laps up the juices that are leaking from your hole, “I’m here to please you, please let me.” Jaeyun doesn’t mean for it to come off as begging but he is so desperate for you he can't help it; and when your thighs tense slightly at his words, he thinks perhaps you want him to plead with you.
You’re so used to being around men who think that they own you, that are superior to you, that as Jaeyun asks you to let him pleasure you, it's a refreshing change. His words, muffled against your wetness, carry a genuine desire to fulfil your every desire. You can feel the sincerity in his actions, the earnestness in his plea.
“I want you to make me cum, please, Jaeyun. I need it so bad,” you whisper into the hot atmosphere that surrounds you both. You’re close and he can sense it too and right now, that is all you care about. You need to feel that satisfaction rush over you, your body is aching for it because it knows Jaeyun can bring you to that peak.
Whimpering below you, Jaeyun loses all sense of control and picks up his pace, his fingers now circling your entrance before slipping into you, scissoring you open in a mix of gentleness and roughness. He loves the idea of being able to touch you like this and make you release over his hand and tongue.
Nibbling at your clit is the final straw and you feel that tightness in your stomach and clench in your pussy as you cry out, cumming all over his face. The whites of your eyes come to the forefront as your entire body rolls and the wave of your climax consumes you like a tsunami. The grip you have on his hair tightens and you hold him in place, your body riding his face as his nose, tongue, and fingers work in tandem with you to help you ride out your high.
You don’t think you’ve cum so hard from just oral, these types of experiences being between you and your toys. Jaeyun is a man above the rest and you can’t wait to have more of him.
As he gently guides your leg back to the ground, his hands steady you as you tremble in the aftermath of pleasure. His thoughts wander, contemplating the possibility of lingering between your thighs for just a few more precious moments, coaxing yet another orgasm from your willing body.
For Jaeyun, the idea of bringing you to such heights of ecstasy is not just a source of pride but pure joy. The thought of surrendering himself completely to your pleasure fills him with a sense of fulfilment like nothing else. In a world where some might find embarrassment, he finds only bliss in the act of surrendering to his woman, to you.
Looking down at him, his eyes locking with yours past your heaving chest, you moan quietly at the sight of him; his hair dishevelled thanks to your hands, your juices over his face and lips which he wipes his fat tongue along to collect, and his eyes filled with pure adoration and lust.
You’re never going to be able to let him go.
Tracing a path of tender kisses along your body, his lips remain in constant contact with your skin, leaving a trail of warmth and sensation in their wake. With each gentle press of his lips, he conveys his adoration and reverence for every inch of you. It's a silent yet powerful declaration of his desire to explore and worship every part of your being.
Once he reaches your neck, he stops, nibbling softly at your nape. "God, you taste so good," he murmurs against your skin, his breath warm against your neck. "I could spend forever right here, just worshipping you."
His words send a shiver down your spine, a delicious anticipation building within you at the thought of what's to come. You tilt your head slightly, granting him better access, silently urging him to continue his actions.
"I could lose myself in you," he continues, his voice husky with desire. "Every touch, every kiss, I want to claim every part of you for myself, even just for tonight.”
His honesty pangs in your chest because what if it is just for tonight? The probability of that is high and yet you don’t dare think about it, the revelation too upsetting for you to consider. So you push it down, committing yourself to enjoy this, regardless of the what-ifs. Having him now is all that matters and you’re going to relish in it.
Grabbing his t-shirt, you yank it off his body and kiss him desperately, your arms finding home around his neck as you waltz him to your bedroom, thankful for your familiarity with your apartment as you weave around coffee tables and decorative baskets.
As you reach the bedroom, a primal need surges between you, an urgency and determination unlike anything you've experienced before. With a sense of raw desire, you turn him around and push him onto the bed, your actions driven by an irresistible force that neither of you can deny.
Straddling him, you see his face light up in excitement and glee as you initiate the next move. Jaeyun loves it when his eagerness is reciprocated and by the way your thighs are squeezing each of his sides and your hands are cradling his face as you kiss him messily, he feels so wanted at this moment.
His hands eagerly grasp at your blouse, urgency guiding his movements as he tears it open and discards it aside. With unbridled desire, he buries his face into your chest, kissing and nibbling at the exposed flesh above your bra. Fingers knead and lift your tits, enhancing the sensation as he revels in the intimate contact between skin and skin.
The heat between you intensifies and Jaeyun's ardour only grows stronger. His lips trail from your chest to your neck, peppering kisses along the sensitive skin, igniting a flurry of sensations that ripple through your body.
With a skilful touch, his hands explore the curves of your body, tracing the contours with a fervent hunger. Fingers dance over the fabric of your bra, teasingly tracing the edges before deftly unhooking it, revealing your breasts in all their glory.
“You’re a fucking dream, Sweetheart,” he confesses, knowing that you have, in fact, clouded his dreams some nights. “You always have been.”
Grabbing his chin gently, you lift his eyes to meet yours and smile fondly, showcasing your affection through your sparkling pupils. “You’re so pretty, Jaeyun,” you utter quietly as each syllable matches the thumping in his chest.
Jaeyun flushes red and smiles brightly, like you’ve just called him a good boy and he’s your golden retriever. What you don’t expect is for him to open his mouth just wide enough to poke his tongue out, asking for something.
It takes a moment for you to grasp his silent request, but once you do, your hold on his chin transitions to his jaw, gently urging it wider as you oblige, softly spitting into his waiting mouth. A soft whimper escapes his throat as his eyes flutter closed, savouring the intimate exchange with an fervour.
Emboldened by the connection between you, you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his in a silent promise of more to come. His response is immediate, a soft moan escaping his lips as he eagerly presses himself against you, seeking to deepen the connection between your bodies.
You feel his clothed cock against your naked heat and suddenly the room is filled with explicit moans, both of you dry-humping one another like horny teens. It’s electric and you both want each other more than any destination or University degree, it feels like you’ve found your hearts true desires in the confines of this bedroom.
“Let me have you,” His plea resonates in the air, heavy with longing and urgency, as his fingertips caress every contour of your exposed skin, eliciting a cascade of goosebumps in their wake. "Please, Y/N," he groans, his voice thick with desire, the intensity of his gaze locking with yours in an unspoken plea for surrender.
“If you let me have you,” you whisper into his mouth, ghosting your lips above his,
“Baby, you’ve had me for a lifetime.”
His response is without a moment of silence, followed by a deep kiss that ignites a fire within you both, drawing you into a passionate embrace. With a gentle yet possessive grip, he pulls you closer, his hands trailing down to caress the curves of your ass. The sharp sound of his gentle slaps mingles with your moans, echoing off the walls as pleasure courses through your veins.
As the heat between you reaches its peak, you break the kiss with a soft gasp, a mischievous glint in your eyes. With a playful smirk, you slide your hands down to the waistband of his trousers, fingers deftly undoing the buttons as you tease him with each deliberate movement.
Jaeyun watches you with a mix of anticipation and desire, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he eagerly awaits your next move. You climb off him for a moment as you peel his trousers and boxers down his legs, revealing his hardened length, aching for your touch. His arousal is evident and his cock is thick and twitching with its need to be buried inside of you.
Discarding the trousers aside, you meet his gaze with a wicked grin, your desire mirroring his as you hover above him. Your eyes sparkle playfully as you slink forward, your lips caress his teasingly, then trail kisses down his chest, creating a path of fire in your wake. Jaeyun's breath hitches as he watches you with rapt attention; his anticipation grows with every second.
Your fingertips follow enticingly down his thighs as you approach his waist, sending shivers of expectation coursing through his body. You gently but firmly guide his legs apart so that you can lower yourself between them for better access.
Grinning slyly, you approach him closely, your breath ghosting over his skin as you torment him with every instant that passes. Then you take him quickly into your mouth and engulf him with a hunger that leaves him panting for air.
Jaeyun surrenders to the thrilling sensation as waves of pleasure rush over him; his hands tangling in your hair as he leads you, lost in the depths of bliss. In this moment, there is nothing but the two of you, bound together by a passion that knows no bounds.
However, as good as your mouth feels, and fuck does it feel good, Jaeyun needs to be enveloped by your warm walls, he craves it like an addiction, and he genuinely thinks that once he gets a taste of you wrapped around him, he might just have to check himself into pussy anonymous.
Using his grip on your hair, he yanks you up off of him, causing confusion to overcome your expression. “Baby, if I’m not fucking you in the next 3 seconds, I might just die,” he laughs but he is serious, you can tell he is by how he’s already grasping his cock with his freehand and holding it in position for you to sink onto it.
So that is exactly what you do. You straddle him one more, lining him up at your entrance before slowly easing your way onto him. With each inch, you take your time, allowing yourself to adjust to his size, the sensation of him filling you completely overwhelming your senses. Jaeyun's hands grip your hips tightly, guiding you as you slowly sink down onto him, his breath catching in his throat as you finally envelop him completely.
Due to his thickness, you take your time to adjust to his size, grinding on him to open you up a bit more, not that any of you mind because as you do so, the tip of his dick is brushing inside you blissfully.
"You're taking me so well, beautiful," Jaeyun says, his voice hoarse with need, his hands tracing patterns of heat over your skin. "I was made for you.”
You begin to ride him while moaning gently beneath your breath. At first, your motions are shallow as you slowly elevate your hips. Each motion causes a surge of pleasure to course through your body, sparking a fire that grows more intense with each passing second.
Jaeyun's hands are firmly grasping your hips, directing you as you find your rhythm. His own groans blend with yours to create a symphony of want. Your walls are squeezing his thick cock so tight that each time he lifts you higher, the bell of his cock snags on your entrance, trapping him inside.
“You’re bouncing on my cock so well, Y/N,” he compliments as he kisses you gently on your bouncing tit. His heavy breath mists over your heart and it clenches along with your core. He’s so beautiful and adoring that he has ruined every other man for you.
As the ecstasy consumes both of you, Jaeyun's control starts unravelling and his primitive impulses begin to take over as he loses himself in the intensity of the moment. He jackhammers himself further into you with each thrust and he lets out a howl, completely losing all control of his movements. His thrusts become more frantic and more desperate as he hears your cries of pleasure.
The rhythm of your fucking frenzy transforms into a symphony of desire, the sound of his hips meeting yours echoing off the walls as he pounds into you with unrestrained passion. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.
You cling to him desperately, lost in the overwhelming intensity as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure that consumes you. With each powerful buck of his hips, you feel yourself hurtling towards the brink, the sensation building to a fever pitch as you both race towards the climax that awaits.
"F-Fuck, Jaeyun!" you groan out, your voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation as you hug his head between your cleavage, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation coursing through your body.
Jaeyun is completely lost in the moment, his focus solely on the incredible feeling of being enveloped by you. He bites down harshly on one of your breasts, leaving a bruise as a mark of his passion, eliciting a cry of pleasure mixed with a hint of pain from you.
Taking control, Jaeyun’s only objective now is to feel you cumming on his cock, so he picks up the pace, bringing your body down to lie on top of him as he sinks into your mattress. Using his legs as anchors, he thrusts into you with an otherworldly speed, each movement driving you closer to the edge.
“Come on, Sweetheart, cum all over me,” he grits out, all of his focus on his hips.
The slapping of your skin and how his tip is puncturing your cervix is enough to tumble you over, a roar leaving your mouth as you come undone just as he wanted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaeyun!” You can’t form coherent sentences because to put it plainly, the dick is too good. It’s rendered you dumb and the only thoughts in your mind are; Jaeyun, cock, feels good, cumming.
Smiling brightly beneath you, Jaeyun marvels at your face as you let the pleasure take over. Your eyes are screwed shut and your mouth is open wide with short breaths escaping, your chest is panting against his and he can feel your heart race against his.
As you start to relax into the aftermath of your second orgasm of the night, he picks up the pace again, now content to seek his own release. Clawing down your back, he holds your hips still and batters into your sensitive and spent pussy, knowing that the beating it just took must have left you sore, so he needs to cum quickly.
You aid him in his quest for release, showering him with kisses across his chest, neck, and face, your droopy eyes still gleaming with adoration despite the ache that lingers within you. "Jaeyun, you're fucking me so good," you whisper gently into his ear, nibbling at his lobe in a gesture of encouragement that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through him, his length throbbing inside of you in response.
Empowered by your words, Jaeyun's rhythm becomes even more intense, his movements propelled by an innate urge to reach his climax, which between your tight cunt and your seductive words, it doesn’t take him long.
"I'm cumming, fuck, I'm cumming, Baby," Jaeyun mewls, his voice strained with desperation as he tries to push you off of him, but you hold him firmly in place, unwilling to let him escape the imminent release.
With a whispered plea, you encourage him to let go completely, to surrender to the intoxicating pleasure that courses through both of you. "Cum inside me, Jaeyun. Let me feel you," you urge, your voice filled with lust and longing.
He shakes his head and tries to roll over to pull out, yet you remain headstrong and unyielding to his attempts of escape. “I have the implant, Jaeyun, you can cum in me as much as you want.”
The lawyer in you is furious that you’re letting him bust a nut inside of you due to your irresponsibility, but the happy and content you is relishing in the fact that any second, you’re going to be filled with Sim Jaeyun’s seed.
Looking deep into your eyes, he sees you’re serious and huffs out a laugh of joy. It's not that he didn't want to experience the ecstasy of releasing inside you - ask the stars, he did - but he also understands the importance of being responsible.
However, as you resume your rhythm, bouncing on his cock and firmly holding him down by his chest, any lingering hesitation evaporates. He becomes consumed by the overwhelming pleasure, his primal instincts driving him to chase his climax with an intensity that matches yours.
“Cum for me, Jaeyun, please,” you beg, wanting nothing more at this moment.
Coaxed by your words and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him, Jaeyun succumbs to the irresistible urge to release deep inside you. With one final, powerful thrust, he empties himself into you, his hips stilling as he rides out the waves of his high.
"Fuck, Baby, fuck I'm cumming, don't stop."
The sounds that escape his lips are a symphony of pleasure, soft yet needy, low but whiney, a perfect embodiment of every fantasy you've ever entertained. As you massage his chest and shoulders, soothing him down from his orgasm, his features are painted with bliss and love, a smile mirroring your own as he gazes at you with adoration.
"You're amazing, truly out of this world, Y/N L/N," Jaeyun huffs out, his voice filled with reverence and admiration.
Gently moving you off him, he guides your head to the pillow before hovering over you, peppering your lips with affectionate kisses. Finally, he settles on top of you, his head resting against your chest, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat calming him instantly.
Resting his chin in the valley between your breasts, Jaeyun's touch is gentle as he reaches up, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. There's a glimmer of something in his eyes, a silent contemplation that leaves you wondering what he's about to say next.
For a fleeting moment, you fear he might choose to end the encounter, bidding you farewell with a polite smile and a promise to call. But to your surprise, he does the opposite.
"Come with me, Y/N," he says, his voice soft yet filled with determination.
Stunned, you feel your chest tighten as you replay his words in your mind, each repetition only adding to the disbelief that swirls within you. There is no way he is asking you this when this is the first time you’ve really spoken to one another. He might as well be asking a blind date he’s just met to leave with him.
"What?" you manage to utter, blinking at him in shock.
For Jaeyun, however, there's no hesitation. In his heart, nothing has ever felt more right. He's harboured feelings for you for so long that now, with you in his arms, he's determined not to let you slip away so easily, even if that means proposing a notion that can be deemed outlandish.
"To Malta, to everywhere you want to go," he continues, his voice filled with sincerity and a touch of vulnerability. "Come with me."
You stay silent, nervously biting your lip, there isn’t much you can say, your inner battle between your head and your heart make it difficult to hear anything clearly.
Noticing your silence, he offers you a gentle smile and grabs one of your hands, kissing your palm gently. “Y/N, you’re miserable here, I can feel it. You’ve practically said it yourself,” he argues with you even if he cannot hear your turmoil, “Think about it; you come with me, experience everything you’ve ever wanted, study Immigration Law at one of those Open Universities if you want, or do literally anything else that makes you happy.”
You shake your head. "I'm not miserable, Jaeyun."
“Then tell me you’re happy.”
Silence ensues. A profound quietness fills the space because...you can't. You can't fabricate happiness. Are you content with your life? Undoubtedly. But true happiness eludes you. Until he posed that question, until you stood eye to eye with him, you had mistaken contentment for fulfilment, believing that your family and friends held the key to your happiness, that working hard to get to the top of your law firm was all you could want. But you aren't truly happy.
“Y/N, I came here for you,” he admits, his voice just above a whisper.
“What do you mean?” you ask, confusion palpable in your manner.
“I was supposed to be leaving the UK straight to Malta. I had my bags packed and ready to go and then I got your message on Instagram. Before I could even reply, I was changing my flight to come home to see you. I just…I couldn’t let the chance of seeing you pass me by,” his voice quivers with raw emotion as he speaks, his grasp on your hand tightening, “Do you know how many times I’ve hovered over that stupid send button, desperate to reach out but was too scared to? When you got that letter and messaged me about it, I knew this was my only shot and I couldn’t waste it.”
Jaeyun, deep down, is still the scared teenage boy who wrote you that letter. You can see him fighting himself, terrified that as he pours his heart out to you that it’ll be a disaster, but he has spent so long contemplating what life could have been had he just plucked up the courage that right now, he’s powering through his insecurities to try and reach your heart.
You sit up, intertwining his fingers in yours as a form of reassurance. “Did you come here to see if I would come with you?” you query, the tone of your voice light despite the heaviness of the subject.
"No, I came here because I wanted to see you and...to see if I could find some closure for teenage me," Jaeyun begins, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. The nakedness of both of you both being and soul amplifies the vulnerability that envelops you. "But I can't bear the thought of losing you again."
"You don't really know me, Jaeyun," you counter, not with hostility but with a sense of realism.
How could he be so sure he wants you by his side when he knows you as far as he could throw you? Sure, you have both connected in a way you didn’t know was possible in the past 7 hours, and you have in some way known one another for years, but you don’t know each other. Not enough to leave the country with him…right?
With a sigh, Jaeyun gently strokes your hair, his gaze softening with affection. "I do know you, Y/N. I see you for everything you are, I always have," he insists, his voice now infused with unwavering determination. “I don’t know if I love you the same way I did ten years ago, we’re both different people. But I want the chance to find out, I want the chance to fall in love with you as you are right now.”
You stare into his eyes, contemplating your future. You could stay here and go about your life as is, sitting in a swimming pool of ‘what could have been’, forced to see bosses who could never give you the time of day, or you could follow Jaeyun, explore the world and let your hair down, meet new people and enjoy everything that life is supposed to be. Pragmatically, you have enough savings to get you by and worst case, you work shitty jobs in beautiful cities.
There is nothing holding you back except yourself.
With a beaming smile, you nod a silent promise to him. “Can we go to Venice?”
Jaeyun's eyes widen in surprise at your request, a flicker of disbelief dancing in their depths. But as he takes in the earnestness in your gaze, the longing for adventure and new beginnings, his heart swells with a profound sense of gratitude.
"Venice, huh?" he echoes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Let's do it.”
The words hang between you, laden with the promise of excitement and possibility. You leap forward and kiss him, pushing his back onto the mattress once again, enjoying the moment with him, knowing it’s not the end but the beginning of future you.
Summary: Haechan is a for-hire-boyfriend and gets a new client that likes to take the ‘boy’ off of ‘friend’
Genre: Romance, Hurt Comfort, Angst
Word Count: 4.1K
Warnings: insecurity
Pairing: Lee Donghyuck x Reader/OC
The boy walked at leisurely pace down the flowery path before him. His hands rested in his pockets as some petals from the blossoming trees blew in the wind. The soft, barely pink petals attempted to find a home in his hair as well as on his clothes.
He sighed to himself. His eyes barely able to stay open. Just one more date for the day…
He finally stumbled upon a girl sitting on a bench. A picnic basket rested in her lap. Her hair covered her face almost as a way to keep it a mystery. she seemed unaware of the boy’s presence as her attention remained on her phone in her hand.
Couples holding hands walked passed them, yet he felt as if they were the only ones there in that moment. Something in him begged to be seen but he knew it was no use. He finally decided to walk closer and bend down slightly next to the girl.
“Are you Y/n?” He asked, softly, yet it still startled her.
“Oh, Haechan.” She laughed, nervously.
Her face was no longer a mystery to him. She jumped up off the bench before she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear as she mumbled some words that were muffled to him. His heart jumped in his chest at how pretty she was but she wasn’t aware of the slight pink in his cheeks as her eyes avoided his own. She brushed the back of her dress off with one hand while the other held onto the handle of the basket.
“I’m sorry, I was trying to not scare you.” He apologized. “I can take that for you.”
He reached out and took the basket from her.
“Thank you.” She blushed.
He smiled at her before reaching out to take her hand. He didn’t expect to have her pull it back in the matter of seconds. It left him dumbfounded as he hadn’t experienced that happening after all dates he had been on. She seemed to catch on to the lost look in his eyes.
“I know you’re a boyfriend for hire and everything but you don’t have to hold my hand.” She said with a small smile.
Something about it seemed so melancholy to him even though she was trying to be reassuring.
“I just…” She started. “Wanted company I guess, and I haven’t seen any friends for hire. So you don’t need to hold my hand and act like a boyfriend.”
“Okay.” He nodded, respecting her wishes.
There it was… She was lonely, as were most of his clients but she didn’t even want the fake romance she paid for. For some reason, that seemed much sadder than anything else to him.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of her as they walk side by side down the park’s path together. A small smile rested on her lips as she watched the blossoms above their heads. One of her hands held onto the other’s fingers. She didn’t look at him once.
They quickly found a picnic table to settled down at. Even after everything was set up and as they sat across from one another, watching the flower petals fall she never spoke a word. Donghyuck would intentionally stare to try and get a glimpse of the warm brown eyes she had once more.
“How old are you?” He asked to break the silence.
She snapped out of her thoughts and looked at him blankly, almost like she was lost at him starting a conversation.
“21.” She answered.
“Do you go to school?” He followed up.
“Uh, yeah.” She nodded. “I do usually, but I’m out for the summer.”
“How did your classes go?”
He would just ask more once she finished responding. Every answer seemed to bring a little more to the surface bit by bit. The shy, quiet exterior dissipated quickly as he got her talking. She was bubbly and passionate once she got comfortable enough.
The smile and sparkle in his eye as she talked about her major in school was evident only to the strangers around them. They went on a walk around the stream that ran through the park after being done with the picnic.
Before the both of them knew it, the sun was setting which meant their time together was coming to an end. They stood across from each other on the bridge that overlooked the water. Donghyuck handed her the basket she brought back to her.
“Thank you.” She smiled and bowed a little to him.
It wasn’t just about the basket though.
“I guess our time has come to an end.” He sighed.
“I guess it has.” She responded, bittersweetly. “Thank you for the last couple of hours. Goodbye, Haechan.”
“I can walk you home.” He was quick to offer.
She was about to turn to walk the other way but his words made her stop in tracks. A familiar blank expression, her eyes rather wide as she looked at the boy.
“I don’t-“ She started.
“It wouldn’t cost anything.” He shook his head. “It’s just… the gentleman thing to do with the way the world is.”
The explanation made her chuckle.
“I’ll be fine.” She reassured. “I always am… It’s a very kind gesture though. Thank you again, Haechan. I’ll see you later.”
She walked away, never looking back and he watched as she disappeared into the distance with the light. Only then did he turn the other way to leave the park and get back to his own apartment. The whole walk home he was thinking of her very last words before she left.
‘I’ll see you later.’
Did she actually mean that? Or was that just her saying goodbye like other people do? He hated to admit he spent the night laying in his bed thinking about it. He hated admitting that he woke up late the next day because of it and it led to being late to a bunch of dates and many unhappy customers.
It wasn’t just the lack of punctuality, it was also how out of it he was with his customers. It made him so upset to be like this, over a client of all people too. He had never felt such a way over a customer let alone be been such a mess over one. Of course it was gonna cause a disturbance in his life.
For days, he waited to see a notification pop up on his phone from that girl to book him again. Every time his phone buzzed he’d look at it only to be sorely disappointed.
Just when he was about over it, her name popped up on his screen when a new date notification popped up on his phone. He rushed to open the app to see when it was scheduled and where.
It became a regular thing for her to book him every two weeks. The cycle became familiar and a comfort to him. He’d always have something to look forward to so he was always on his best behavior for his other clients.
He found himself getting giddy whenever her name would pop up. The type of giddy that would make one jump on their bed to scream in their pillow and kick their feet in the air out of joy. He would always happily open the booking to check where she wanted to go this time. He saw arcade this time around which they never had done before together.
He found himself in front of the claw machine, extremely focus on getting the plushie she wanted after several failed attempts. He adjusted the claw’s placement, tediously
“Am I ever gonna get a turn?” The girl huffed from behind him.
“If I lose this round, I promise it’s your turn.” He said as he turned around to look at her. “But I don’t lose so-“
She rolled her eyes, “You’ve lost five times already.”
“Just watch.”
He finally pressed the button which landed in the mount of stuffed animals. The claw grasped onto one plushie and moved back up. Both watched the mechanism intently as the object started to slip from the metal prongs so slowly. It was agonizing to see it fall before it could fully stop in the corner. It bounced off the plastic barrier and into the chute which had the both of them cheering along with the machine.
Donghyuck happily bent down to retrieve the pink elephant out of the compartment. It was soft and cool to the touch.
“For you, m’lady.” He smiled as he handed it to her.
“I don’t get a turn now.” She sighed, faking her sadness partly. “Thank you, Haechan. I love it.”
“It was fun getting it for you.” He confessed. “Now, let’s go get something to eat. Then we come back and you can finally get your turn.”
They managed to find a booth available in the food court portion of the arcade. They sat across each other and shared an order of fries with each other. It was quiet between the two of them but the atmosphere around them was bustling with conversation and others having fun. He looked up from the basket of fries in the middle of the table to see her enjoying a french fry dipped in ketchup.
“I’ve wanted to ask you something.” He said.
“And what’s that?” She responded.
“You have a pattern when you book an outing.” He pointed it. “It’s usually every two weeks. I kinda wonder why.”
“I get paid every two weeks.”
“Oh. I didn’t mean to-“
“No, it’s okay… I don’t have much of social battery for more than what I already do. I don’t like being alone weirdly enough and I don’t have many reliable friends. Having money is no fun for me when I don’t have anyone or anything to spend it on. That’s actually why I booked with you for the first time. I didn’t want to be alone in celebrating the end of my semester.”
His eyes remained on the pink elephant that sat in her lap. Her finders made their way to the ears of plushie, running over the fur.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.
“I said it was okay.” She laughed. “As I’ve told you before, I’ll be fine. I always am. I’m use to it anyway. I like spending time with you, its fun but I guess its your job to do that.”
Looking into her warm eyes, he could see a tinge of sadness in them even though she laughed and kept an upbeat tone to hide it.
He started to move over to other side of the booth that she sat on. He sat right next to her before he reached out to grab her phone that rested on the table and opened up the camera app. He held the phone up in the air to capture the both of them.
“What are you doing?” She asked.
“Taking a picture with our son.” He smirked.
“But I wanted a daughter.” She played along.
“They can just be our kid.”
He patted the elephant’s head and it took everything in him to remember it wasn’t an actual date. He wanted to kiss the top of her head so badly but he simply turned back around to face the lens with a smile as he snapped the picture.
“Can you open your phone?” He questioned as he handed her the phone. “I want to send it to myself.”
“Yeah.” She murmured before she unlocked the device and handed it back to him.
With that, he texted the picture to his number and thanked her while giving her the phone back. Donghyuck and her enjoyed the rest of their outing together before spilling ways until the next time she scheduled.
She forgot he had sent that image to him. The message sat on top of that app. He found himself staring at the number for days on end. He had net number and he debated on reaching out to her. It’s what he wanted. He didn’t want to have to wait to see her anymore…
unknown number: [image]
haechan: hey…
The random text showing up late in the evening startled to girl as she watched a show in the comfort of her bed. It was from a number, she didn’t recognize and then another came through
unknown number: hey
unknown number: y/n??
She opened up the messages to be greeted with the familiar picture. A wave of relief washed over her but then she was bombarded with confusion as well.
y/n: haechan’s?? that is you right?
haechan: yeah…
haechan: am i interrupting anything? can i call you?
y/n: is everything alright?
haechan: i think so… but i want to talk to you
y/n: call me
Within moments, her phone lit up in her hand with his call. She swiped right to pick up.
“Haechan?” She mumbled onto the phone.
The sound of her voice made his heart flutter as he laid in his bed looking up at his ceiling.
“Hey.” He said, softly.
“What’s going on?” She questioned.
“I don’t want you to book with me again.”
There was a moment of silence over the line. The girl felt her heartbreak almost hearing those words and being quiet in pain always proved to be better in the long run.
“I don’t want you to spend your money on me again.” He stated to break the absence. “I want to spend time with you and not for money.”
“If this is about what I said on our outing the other day-“ She spoke up.
“It’s not.” He interrupted. “I’ve been thinking for about this for some time now... Please tell me if I’m crossing a boundary but I like being around you. I don’t need money for it be rewarding because your presence is all I want.”
His arm rested over his eyes as he confessed to her. Another silence lingered in the air.
“I don’t know you though.” She reminded him in a melancholy tone.
He sat up in his bed at her words. She was right after all. He never gave many personal details of him or his life because part of his job is to focus on the client.
“I go by Haechan.” He introduced himself. “I’m 24 years old and I-“
“Things that aren’t on your profile.” She chuckled. “I know those things…”
“My full name is Lee Donghyuck. I was born on June 6th, 2000 at 10:30 in the morning in Seoul. My favorite colors are red and black but I have a mild form of color blindness. I have a bachelor’s degree in music composition. I’m allergic to cats. I bite my fingernails in my sleep sometimes. I still want to be a singer. Oh and I-“
The girl got rather lost quickly in the sea of information he was given her.
“Woah, slow down.” She laughed. “We can just… talk. I know it can be hard to give random facts about yourself… First off, do you want to be called Haechan or Donghyuck?”
“For you?” He asked. “Hyuck.”
“Okay, Hyuck.” She said, softly over the phone. “So you want to be a singer? Why don’t you tell me more about that passion, if you’d like.”
Neither of them expected to be on phone for hours with one another. They hadn’t even realized the clock striking three in the morning. Only then did they bid goodbye to one another because they both had to go to work in the morning.
While she no longer popped up on his phone in the way she previously had. He still scheduled time with her and instead of booking notifications, texts with her would come up instead. He would often get so excited about he had to turn off his phone whenever he went on one of his dates.
Every time they went out together, the girl out of habit would try to pay but every time Donghyuck would lightly slap her hand away from the bill. Whenever she wanted something, he’d get it for her without skipping a beat. He always loved to spoil his people and she had become just that. He also thought it was his turn to spoil her after all she spent on him over the course of months.
When she finally invited him over to where she lived, he saw every plushie he got for her all sat comfortably on her bed. The scene made his heart swell with an unexplainable joy.
Friendship was enough but of course, the boy yearn for more. He came to find out the girl adorned the moon and at nights they spent with one another at her place, he’d find himself with her on the balcony, stargazing.
“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” He asked.
There was a brief moment of silence that had him turn his attention to her, wondering what took her so long to respond. She blankly stared at the sky before her expression turned into a small smile.
“It is.” She answered.
This night, she went inside rather quickly. He hadn’t seen her this quiet since the first time they met and he realized how much he hated the uncomfortable silence between them. He walked into her room, where she laid on her side with her back to him. The familiar pink elephant peeked over her arm to look at him.
He climbed into the bed next to her which had become a rather normal thing between them. Since her, he realized how many things he hated like how he would sleep in a cold, empty bed every night after being surrounded by dozens of people everyday. He come to realize that he wasn’t that different from her even in the beginning, they just happened to handle loneliness differently.
“Did I do something wrong?” Donghyuck whispered.
“No, not at all.” She mumbled back rather quickly. “Sorry, if I seem off… when you said that on the balcony I just ended up remembering something.”
“We’re friends now,” He reminded her.
Ah, that word…
“You can talk about if you want, you know?” He murmured.
“I’m okay. Thank you.” She responded, softly.
She turned over to face the boy again. She snuggled up next to him, her head resting on his chest as she closed her eyes once more. Yet another thing that had become normal between the two of them. The boy wrapped an arm around her as the other relaxed at his side.
It was interesting to see how far they had come in less than a year... Months ago, it's not like he didn't or couldn't imagine it but it would've never compared to the real thing. The closer he felt to her, the more dissatisfied he felt with his job.
Every date he had, he felt like he was playing a video game and while his job paired well with his socialable and talking skills, he didn't feel like himself. The only time he was one with his body was after hours when they'd meet up or talk.
"Am I too much?" She always asked. "I feel like I take up so much of your time and you never get anything in return for putting up with me."
"Never." He always answered back. "Being with you is enough."
It didn't matter how many times he said to her, that question would appear occasionally. Maybe she just liked hearing it and he didn't mind saying it.
Another one of his days went by, the only thing getting his through was that dissociative state he'd enter and looking forward to see her face once more. He'd always race over to her place which had become like a home to him.
That evening, he help the girl build a blanket fort similar to how kids usually do. They found each other under the sheets, giggling with one another. Seeing her laugh brought him back to reality in which they were just friends.
"I'm thinking of quitting." Donghyuck mentioned, abruptly.
The laughter died down.
"Huh? Why?" She questioned, assuming he was finally pursuing his music career after all the encouragement she gave him after that one faithful night months prior.
"Because..." He started, avoiding her eyes as he looked at his hands in his lap. "Of you."
Silent fell upon them.
"Ha ha, funny joke." She laughed. "No, for real, tell me the reason if you're comfortable."
"I did..." He looked up at her, the smile on her face dropped at his words. "It's not a joke. I just..."
She must’ve just thought it was him flirting like always.
“It’s not funny anymore, Haechan.”
She hadn’t called him that in awhile, it actually took him back. She quickly left through one of the openings and he was shortly behind. Outside the fort, she stood with her back to him, her arms crossed.
“I’m being serious when I say this,” He started. “I like you.”
“Don’t do this to me…” She sighed. “I’ve dealt with this enough in my life… Coming from a friend, it hurts so much worse.”
When she turned around to face him, tears streamed down her cheeks, the whites of her eyes were red as her lips quivered to prevent more from slipping.
“Y/n…” He murmured with a softened look as he tried to rush to her side.
She back away with her hand up as soon as he came toward her. The girl couldn’t even look him in the eye.
“I knew this was a bad idea.” She admitted. “It was so easy to remind myself it wasn’t real at all when I was paying for your time… It was so easy to keep that barrier up with money. I couldn’t get hurt that way.”
“I’m sorry if I ruined things…” He apologized. “I really don’t know what you’re referring to when you say it wasn’t real because it has been, since the very beginning. Since the moment I met you, I’ve like you.”
There was this look of hopelessness and disbelief in her eyes as she looked at the boy in front of her. He pleaded silently to her, there must of been some type of misunderstanding, at least he hoped it was that.
“Are we not too old for this game?” She mumbled.
“What game?” He asked. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Please, just tell me what is it.”
She had him begging and graveling on his knees, quite literally as he crawled over to take one of her hands in both of his own.
“You’re doing this for a laugh.” She said, bitterly. “Because why would someone like me ever think you’d be interested in me?”
“Someone like you?” He questioned. “Now I know you’re talking crazy. The real question is why would someone like me not be interested in you. And to answer, we’re both in our 20’s we’re well passed that stupid trick. You’ve known me long enough, you really think I would pull that?”
That cheery demeanor of his was quick to come back as he stood up and took both of her hands in his. Something about it soothed the girl instantly.
“I like you, a lot.” He admitted to her. “You’ve never left my since that day months ago and I want you to be the only woman in my life. That’s why I want to quit. Every one of those stupid dates I go on, all I think about is you but it’s not you and that breaks my heart.”
“Hyuck…” She uttered as she looked at him with tearful eyes.
“Tell me you feel too?” He asked as his hands moved to cup her face gently.
Her hands came to rest on top of his own, “Of course I have.”
He smiled at her and couldn’t help but stare so lovingly at her while he wiped away the tears that spilled down. Something still lingered between the two of them. A question unanswered that hung in air.
“Will you kiss me?” She whispered to him, only inching closer.
“I wanted to for so long…” He confessed.
He gently closed the space between them. A taste of salt from prior tears mixed with the softness and warmth of her lips left him with a sense of sweetness he couldn’t get enough of.
He broke away for a moment, only to come back to leave a few more light kisses on her this time filled with a bit more passion.
❧ word count: 22.3k
❧ warnings: cursing, inaccurate descriptions of constellations bc this is a fantasy world
❧ genre: fluff, mild angst, slow burn, blind date, strangers to idiots friends to lovers, modern magical creatures au, college au, werewolf sungchan, human reader, ft. siren shotaro & various magical neos (and another extra special guest appearance!), same universe as strawberry sunday
❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!)
❧ author’s note: so this is technically the spiritual threequel to my two werewolf jeno fics (pupsick + abh) but you still don’t have to read those to understand this one at all! this is absolutely meant to be read by itself! and this one is also very self-indulgent, from the a.c.e song title to werewolf sungchan, i had a very great time on this one, hence the word count. if you guys have even half the fun reading this as i did writing it, you’ll have a blast. enjoy!
❧ sequel
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!
baby i’m your changer, changer, love is not a danger
Reclined on the plush, soft grass of the front lawn of your college with your hands behind your head, you basked in a particularly lovely patch of sunlight. It was January, the very beginning of the year and the semester, meaning that this would normally be a very chilly and unpleasant endeavor. Except you were sandwiched between two dryads. Dryads weren’t in and of themselves extra warm like dragons or werewolves, nor could one dryad on their own change the weather—and would most likely be influenced by it rather than the other way other—but if you got two together, and they were in a good enough mood, they could generate a little bubble of springtime around them. And for some reason, Jaemin and Donghyuck were in exceptionally high spirits today.
You knew the two dryads from Magical Botany Club, which you had joined your freshman year after you’d managed to kill the small cactus that your parents gave you as a housewarming present for your dorm. They were the only ones who didn’t immediately label you a lost cause, and instead saw you as a challenge. Now, your junior year, your apartment was a jungle to rival that of a dryad’s home, and you were even Vice President of the club this year.
After a long, refreshing inhale followed by an even longer exhale, you finally asked, “So what’s got you in such a good mood? It certainly can’t just be finalizing the calendar of club activities this semester.”
Jaemin was club President, and Donghyuck the Secretary/Treasurer, so this little sunbathing session before the start of the semester on Monday was really supposed to be an Executive Board meeting.
“Who, us?” Jaemin replied innocently.
“No, I was talking to the cardinal on Donghyuck’s leg,” you retorted sarcastically, gesturing to said bird that had also settled in to enjoy the cozy rays.
“We’re not planning anything,” Donghyuck said in the same tone as Jaemin.
You propped yourself up on one elbow to look down at your friend properly, narrowing your eyes at him suspiciously. “I just wanted you to share whatever good news you had, I didn’t think you two were planning anything, but now I definitely do. What’s going on?”
“Donghyuck, you idiot!” The other dryad hissed at him.
“What is it? Don’t tell me you and that fairy are going to try to convince your human friend that aliens are real again. Leave that poor guy alone, he’s got enough on his plate just dealing with all of you being real and jerks to him.” You scoffed disapprovingly, remembering when they recounted that story to you at club a couple years ago. You had been tempted to check on Renjun yourself when you spotted him at the library the next day, but you didn’t know him personally, and didn’t think he’d appreciate it in the moment. Especially not since he looked like he was really focused on his work at the time, so you just let him be.
“It’s nothing like that, I swear,” Jaemin promised. “It’s nothing bad at all.”
You sat up all the way to be able to look at both of them at once. “Okay, what is it then?”
Donghyuck sat up too, the cardinal hopping up to his shoulder. “Long story short, we have a friend that we want to set you up with.”
“No thanks, guys.” You shook your head.
“You won’t even let us tell you about him?”
“I’m not really looking for anything right now. Not after my ex—”
Jaemin pushed his phone screen in front of your face then, a picture of a guy on it. It was presumably the friend they wanted to set you up with. He was around your age, tall—if where his head was in comparison to the doorway of this building was to be believed, wearing a black leather jacket. It looked well-worn, though, as if it might not have been his originally, handed down or thrifted at least. And yeah, he was cute, you weren’t blind. But you also knew not to just eat with your eyes, or else you’d get a tummyache.
“Seriously, Jaemin?” You looked at your friend over the phone screen. “You think I’m that shallow? One picture and I’m going to throw everything away?”
“Dude, show her the—” Donghyuck flapped his hand at the other dryad insistently.
“Oh, right, right.” Jaemin nodded as he began swiping and tapping on his phone fervently.
Donghyuck kept talking to you, “Of course we don’t think you’re shallow. We always meant to tell you about him, too. His name’s Jung Sungchan, he goes here, too, he’s a werewolf, he’s really nice, uh… Jaemin? Some help?”
You let out a sound that was a mix between a snort and a scoff. “Yeah, he sounds great.”
“Okay, he’s really more Jaemin’s friend than mine, sorry,” Donghyuck admitted. “Jaemin? What’s taking so long dude?”
“I don’t know! I can’t find it for some reason, I think he deleted it!” Jaemin muttered, his voice panicked. “I’m checking Jeno’s Instagram right now.”
“So Jeno knows him?” You asked. You didn’t know Jaemin’s werewolf roommate as well as you knew the two dryads, but you did know that they were all friends. “Are they in the same pack?”
“No, they actually know each other through Jeno’s… Ha! Found it!” Jaemin yelled out in celebration, flipping his phone around for you to see.
It was another picture, this time of Jeno standing next to the person you now knew to be named Sungchan. They were at what looked like a u-pick strawberry patch, each proudly holding up a large bucket filled to the brim with strawberries. Sungchan was in a white tank top—a brave choice for a strawberry farm—and shorts. Despite the outfit showing off a lot more of him than the last picture, it was his bright, happy grin that caught your eye, and you had to consciously make sure your gaze didn’t linger too long on the picture.
Turning your attention back to your friends, you prompted Jaemin, “Well? Do you know any more about him than he goes to our college and is a nice werewolf that knows Jeno?”
“Right! Yes!” Jaemin sat up straight at attention as you saw Donghyuck do a little fist pump of victory out of the corner of your eye. “He’s tall—”
“I can see that, he’s like almost two heads taller than Jeno; I meant his personality. This isn’t me saying yes, by the way.” You pointed to yourself and Jaemin talking. “This is me gathering data. I wanted to take time for myself after what happened with my ex, remember? I think it might be enough time, but I need a bit more than ‘he’s nice’ to get me out there.”
“Of course, of course. I really appreciate you even considering this for us,” he squeezed your arm for a moment before letting it go. “He’s really smart, Dean’s List every semester, uh, it might take a minute for him to warm up at first, but once he does, he’s funny, and insightful. And he doesn’t have that constant go-go-go energy that werewolves usually do, he’s so much chiller, so if you were worried about that, don’t be.”
“And, sorry, I know he’s your friend, but I have to ask…” You winced. “He’s not one of those werewolf guys that only dates human girls as like… you know… an ego thing?”
Donghyuck snorted, “Oh he’s not, promise.”
Tension you didn’t know you’d been carrying in your shoulders relaxed at that. “Good.”
“We do have to tell you one thing though,” Jaemin grimaced.
“What?”
“This isn’t just a random set-up because we think you guys would be cute—”
“Oh God, what’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing! Nothing!” He rushed to reassure you. “Like, that part is true, we do think you’d be a good match.”
“Let me guess: the ‘but’ that follows that sentence is related to the ‘long story’ that Donghyuck mentioned earlier?”
Jaemin nodded reluctantly. “Yeah… long story long, Sungchan made a deal, and his end of it was letting us set him up with anybody of our choosing.”
“You’re using a date with me to punish him?” You stood up, brushing the grass off your back. “Yeah, hard fucking pass. Thanks, guys, you really know how to make a girl feel special.”
“No, not a punishment!” Jaemin scrambled to get to his feet as well. As you walked off, the air around you turned cold again, marking when you left their bubble of spring. He called after you, “Y/N! I’m sorry! Please!”
You didn’t want to go back to your empty apartment yet though, so you found yourself meandering into a familiar storefront. Jasmine & Pearls, a boba tea shop just around the corner from your college campus. There was only one customer ahead of you in line, and you stared blankly at the menu just to look at something. You weren’t feeling very adventurous today, so you’d probably get your regular go-to order. After the customer before you had been helped, you shuffled up to the counter, messing with your phone case to pull your punch card out of the back of it.
“Hey, Y/N!” Shotaro, the siren working behind the counter today, greeted you cheerily.
The iridescent pink scales under the tip of his button nose and apples of his cheeks shimmered in the fluorescent lights, making him look like he had a perpetual hint of rosy blush across his skin. That, and his cherubic smile could almost make you forget what those scales and his flashing silvery eyes really meant—he was a siren, could lure you to your death if he so wanted to. Obviously, he didn’t want to, had no reason to, and that would literally be a murder charge nowadays, but you nevertheless found it fascinating that such a being was just here serving you boba tea.
A few months ago, you realized that you came here probably too often once all the workers knew your name, but by then it was too late. It was just too convenient, delicious, and pleasant of an atmosphere for you to feel ashamed enough to stop coming.
“Hi, Shotaro.” You smiled back at him. “Just a regular honey milk tea with boba, please. No charms today.”
“On it!” He accepted both your punch card and credit card from you. After handing them back, he spun around to make your drink, and you went to go wait for it at the bartop at the other end.
Curious, and with nothing better to do in that moment, you pulled up Jeno’s Instagram on your phone. From the main grid on his account, all you could see was pictures either with or of his partner. Cute. Then you finally saw one of them at a strawberry patch, Jeno in the same outfit as the picture Jaemin had shown you before. You clicked on that one, and sure enough it was a whole set of photos. You swiped through to find the one of him and Sungchan holding the buckets of strawberries. And Sungchan was tagged.
You looked up at Shotaro. The customer ahead of you still hadn’t gotten their drink. You checked the notifications on your phone. Nothing new to reply to. Well, here it goes. You clicked on his account.
And he was private. Well, good for him. Internet privacy.
You went back to Jeno’s Instagram to check if Sungchan had maybe appeared in any more posts. You just wanted to see if you could glean anything more about him.
You finally found him again in what looked like a big group trip to Cape Solaria at the end of last summer. There were probably fifteen people here at least. He popped up in a few different shots, playing beach sports with Jeno and some other guys that you didn’t recognize; joining in on throwing some poor small guy—who you presumed to be a witch, judging by the ritual tattoos he was covered in from neck to ankle—into the ocean; and sitting around a campfire roasting marshmallows with Jaemin and Renjun. And in every single one, Sungchan had such a genuine, pure, joyful smile. Like he was fully enjoying the moment and the people with him. Yeah, maybe you were projecting, but... surely it wouldn’t hurt to give it at least one chance?
“Y/N? Hello?” Shotaro was calling for you from the counter, shaking a drink that was presumably yours.
You snapped your head up, sheepishly turning your phone off and stuffing it away in your pocket. The other customer was nowhere to be seen; it was just you and the siren.
“Sorry, sorry.” You rushed up to accept the cup.
“It’s alright, you seemed like you were in the zone.”
You grabbed a straw, punching it out from the plastic wrapping. “In the zone of a little cyberstalking, as much as I hate to admit.”
“No shame here, we all do it. Who was it? Can I see?” He grinned mischievously.
“No,” you said flatly, stabbing your straw through the top of the drink. “My friends want to set me up.”
“Want to? Sounds like you haven’t said yes.”
“Perceptive.” You took your first sip.
“But you were cyberstalking them... So, you’re considering?”
“Ugh, I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Why not? Human lives are short.”
“Right. Thanks for that reminder.”
The bell above the front door rang then, announcing the entrance of another customer.
“Always here to help,” Shotaro patted your forearm before walking back to the register to greet the newcomer.
Two weeks later and you were nervously double-checking the name of the restaurant and the time that Jeno had sent you. Yep, this was it, and you weren’t weirdly early. You couldn’t believe how strange this felt, going on a date again. Comparing your outfit to the casual café as you walked in, you felt only a little better that you weren’t overdressed or underdressed either.
Your eyes scanned the building for Sungchan. You’d done enough cyberstalking on your own time in addition to the photos that your friends kept showing you to hype you up that you were certain you’d recognize him easily. It looked like you’d gotten here first. It was seat-yourself, so you might as well grab a table for the two of you.
You’d just come to a stop in front of a little two-seater and took your purse off to hang off the back of your chair.
“Y/N?” A voice came from behind you, accompanied by a gentle tap on your shoulder.
You spun around, immediately face-to-chest with someone. Looking up, you did, in fact, recognize the face of Jung Sungchan. He was admittedly cuter in real life than in the multitude of pictures that Jaemin and Donghyuck had continued to show you in preparation for the date. You didn’t want to know what they’d been doing to prepare Sungchan.
“Hi, Sungchan?” You still phrased it like a question, watching as the man’s features relaxed into an easy smile of recognition.
“Yes, hello.” He raised his arms up slightly at the same time that you did, and you realized that the both of you were now presumably having the same internal debate about if you were supposed to hug your blind first date hello as a greeting.
Ultimately, the two of you did go in for an awkward short hug, and you let out a nervous chuckle, feeling the warmth radiating off of him in the brief contact. You immediately looked down at the table, “Uhm, should we sit?”
“Of course, yeah.”
And as the two of you sat down on opposite sides, you looked up from your fidgeting fingers to your date’s face, not expecting his brow to be furrowed as if he were troubled by something, his gaze affixed on you.
You shifted in your seat uncomfortably. “Is everything okay?”
“You’re not wearing any perfume...” He commented, and you let out a minuscule sigh of relief. That’s all it was, he was just a bit put off that you hadn’t put on a perfume like one might’ve normally done for a date. A detail that he would’ve of course picked up as a werewolf.
“Not that I expect any brownie points for this, but I uh, I didn’t want to overwhelm your nose, in case there were any smells you’re particularly sensitive to,” you explained, picking up the menu that was already sitting on the table.
“You did your research.”
“Oh, I’ve dated a couple werewolves before, actually.”
“Really? You got a type or something?” As soon as the word were out of Sungchan’s mouth, he went to take them back, seeming surprised even at himself, “Sorry, that was—”
“No, no, I get it,” you cut off his apology, your tone reassuring. You knew that there were people who had a disturbing preference for werewolves, so you could understand why you dating now three werewolves might initially look a little suspicious. “Uh, I went to a kind of small high school. Private school. There were a couple of packs in my area that sent like all of their kids there, so my graduating class ended up being like 75% werewolves. It was just kind of statistics, I guess.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry about that, again,” Sungchan apologized once more, relaxing in his seat a bit more as he actually started to peruse his own menu.
“Anyway, that’s not a great first date topic.” You forced out a light-hearted chuckle.
“What’s not?”
“Past relationships? I think that’s third or fourth at least, don’t you?”
“Mm, yeah, of course. Sorry.”
Desperate to redirect the conversation to a much lighter, neutral one, you asked, “So what’s your major, Sungchan?”
“Earth Sciences.”
“Geology or Climatology track?”
He perked up at this. “Meteorology and Climatology.”
“And what made you want to study that?”
“Well, at first I thought I wanted to study astrophysics, but it was too much math and too little actual space. But I really liked my Intro to Weather class I took my first semester to cover a random credit so I switched to that and it stuck.”
“Wait, was it a morning Monday-Wednesday-Friday with Professor- Professor...” Suddenly, the memory struck you. “Oh! Hwang? Fall semester three years ago?”
“Yes, I believe so...” He answered, head tilting with intrigue.
“I think I had it too!”
“Really?”
“Yeah! I took it to get that Science credit as well.”
“I’m sorry to say that I don’t remember you at all.”
“It’s okay, I don’t remember you either,” you laughed, just amazed at the coincidence. “It was a big auditorium.”
Sungchan must have figured out what he wanted, as he set down his menu and leaned his elbows on the table to give you his full attention. “So what are you studying?”
“I’m an Interdisciplinary Major,” you told him happily, thrilled that the conversation was going much more smoothly now. “I was a bit indecisive, too. Except I couldn’t find one thing that stuck like you did. So I chose two: Sociology and Magical Creatures Studies.”
His eyes dropped from yours as he scoffed under his breath, sitting back in his seat.
And there went your pleasant conversation again.
“What was that?” You asked tersely.
“I didn’t say anything.” He shook his head like he was trying to clear the unpleasant tone from the conversation, but you weren’t going to let him go that easily.
“No, but clearly you have an opinion. So go ahead.”
“Not really, I was just wondering if you’ve even dated anyone that wasn’t a werewolf.”
You crossed your arms over your chest. “You think my major is just me cruising for a new boyfriend or something? Very expensive and essay-intensive compared to dating apps.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Y/N,” Sungchan held his hands up, looking back up at you again. His features turned apologetic. “I just… I don’t know, I’m sorry.”
“So were you going to actually ask me that if I didn’t confront you, or were you just going to make assumptions?”
“That really was rude of me,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, I mean… how do you ask someone something like that without coming off as a bit rude?”
“I suggest phrasing it like a genuine question instead of an accusation.”
“Right.” He took a second as if to compose himself, then asked, his tone much more conservational, “So, you said you dated a couple werewolves in high school. Uh, have you dated anyone else since coming to college, then? Before this?”
You did your best to return your own voice and manner to civility as well. “Dates here and there, but as for serious relationships, just one, I dated a human guy briefly.”
“And why did you break up? If you don’t mind telling me. I get it if it’s too personal.”
“It’s fine. He cheated on me.”
“So you’re of course looking for loyalty. Like, you know, a dog.” Sungchan fired back spitefully.
“Okay, I think we’re done here, Sungchan,” you declared, putting both your hands on the table to prepare yourself to stand.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he rushed to try to apologize for the umpteenth time that night, but you’d heard plenty by now.
“No, it’s fine, really,” you assured him, still moving to get up out of your chair and grab your purse. “You’ve obviously had some bad experiences in the past, none of which I’m privy to. It’s not fair to you to constantly be suspicious that your date has ulterior motives for being with you. But it’s also not fair to me to have to constantly defend myself either.”
He was quiet at that.
You continued, “We both deserve to be able to relax and have fun, and that’s clearly just not going to be able to happen. It’s okay, sometimes things just don’t work out. So, I’m going to go, and I hope you have a great rest of your day.”
And with that, you turned around and left the café.
The ringing of the bell above the door of Jasmine & Pearls barely registered in the back of your mind as you lumbered right up to the cash register the next day.
“Good afternoon, Y/N!” Shotaro greeted you cheerily.
“Hi, Shotaro...” You couldn’t muster up anything close to his level of enthusiasm, letting out a sigh. “Same old, same old, please.”
“Uh oh. Sounds like the date didn’t go so well?” He surmised, ringing you up then starting on your order.
“No, it didn’t,” you leaned against the counter to keep talking to him. “Barely lasted ten minutes.”
“That’s rough. You end it or did he?”
“I did. It was for the best but still... I thought I was going to really like this guy.” Based off nothing but social media posts and word of mouth from friends, but you really were hopeful. You’d had a good feeling, and had trusted Jeno, Jaemin, and Donghyuck. And it blew up in your face.
Note to self, never fucking trust those three again.
“Don’t feel too bad, Y/N. Seems like it’s going around.”
“What do you mean?”
“My roommate’s date last night was a bust too.”
“We should make a club,” you chuckled cynically.
“Or I can set you up?” The siren offered hopefully.
“Thanks, but I’m good. I said I was going to take some time to focus on myself after my last relationship, and I meant that. Last night was me testing the waters, and I fucking drowned.”
“That special, huh? Or, I guess not, in the end.”
“Well, at least now I know, you know? No ‘what if’s to mess with.”
Shotaro enthusiastically slammed your drink down in front of you. “Hell yeah, Y/N. A clear head.”
“Exactly.” You pulled the cup over to you.
He put the packaged straw down on top emphatically. “Fuck that guy.”
“Bit extreme, Shotaro, but I appreciate the sentiment,” you grinned, hitting the straw against the counter to pop it out from the plastic wrapping.
“You’re coming to our Valentine’s Day event next month though, right?” Your friend asked, pointing to the poster taped to the wall advertising the event. The evening of February 13th at the boba shop, with a special themed drinks menu and activities to do.
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Great!” He beamed at you.
“Anyway, I’ve got to go, and you’ve got more customers. See you.” You took your drink with you towards the exit that a whole gaggle of high schoolers had just come through, waving to the siren over your shoulder.
“Bye, Y/N!”
Pulling open the door of Jasmine & Pearls some weeks later, you were immediately greeted by an array of red, pink, and white. The entire store had been redecorated for the event. A short stage was set up against the far wall of the dining area, a small photobooth in another corner, and a station where you could learn to make an origami heart, if the pictures on the instructions taped to the wall above it were anything to guess off. The shop was already bustling and buzzing with energy, filled with couples and groups of friends. All in all, it looked like it was shaping up to be a successful night for them.
You got into possibly the longest line you could remember having waited in at Jasmine & Pearls in a while—you’d learned the rush times and had become a pro at avoiding them in order to get your boba fix as quick as possible—and continued looking around with a smile on your face.
Unfortunately, you were flying this one solo. Your friends were all either working or studying tonight, and you weren’t going to flake after already promising Shotaro just because you couldn’t find someone to come with you. But you could have plenty of fun by yourself. And, you didn’t make any promise to stay the whole night. You’d stay just to finish your drink and maybe make an origami heart or two, depending on how good you were at them.
Finally, it was your turn to order, and you walked up to the register already with a big smile on your face.
Shotaro was manning the register while another employee fulfilled the orders. Your friend’s face lit up immediately. “Y/N! You made it!”
“I told you I would. Did you doubt me?” You questioned in mock offense.
“Not for a second,” he declared. Pointing to the little standee menu that was on the counter, he asked, “So what’ll you have? I recommend one of our specials for the occasion, obviously.”
You looked over the three new drink options that were advertised as for tonight’s event only. One in particular caught your eye, strawberry milk tea with heart-shaped brown sugar tapioca pearls, and an added feel-good charm. “That Lovebug sounds good.”
“Perfect! I knew you’d get that one! Coming right up!” He rang you up, but only took your credit card from your hand. “Sorry, no regular punch cards tonight. Instead, every purchase of a drink comes with a special event-only punch card.”
“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows as he handed you a small pink card with four circles on it, one already punched out with a heart-shaped hole punch.
“Yep! If you complete all the activities we have tonight, you can redeem it for a free drink! You’ve already gotten a punch for purchasing a drink, then we’ve got the photobooth—” he pointed to the large box. “Just bring your photo strips up here, and I’ll punch the card for you. And the origami, same thing. They don’t have to be professional, as long as you tried, just show them to me, and I’ll give you another punch. And then my boss, Baekhyun, is going to be hosting Valentine’s Bingo in like ten, fifteen minutes. He’ll punch everyone’s cards who participates.” He gestured to the stage, where you now saw a man starting to mess with a microphone and small table. “Don’t worry, you can play single.”
“Huh. Sounds good to me.” You tucked the card into your pocket. “Thanks, Shotaro.”
“Your drink will be out in a second!”
When you finally heard your name being called out by the other employee, you walked up and took the cup from him gratefully. It was another siren, who you weren’t nearly as familiar with as Shotaro, but you still offered Yuta a smile as you accepted the drink.
You looked at the heart-shaped boba at the bottom of the cup fondly. “Cute. Thanks, Yuta.”
“Of course! Now enjoy the ambiance.” Yuta shooed you away with a smirk.
You saluted him casually. “Heard.”
Meandering around the store, you took in the kitschy decorations in various heart, Cupid, rose, and arrow shapes all around. Despite your own striking out in the romance department as of late, you couldn’t find yourself wanting to muster up any morosity for the atmosphere. It was too endearing, and you were someone who just loved love. And maybe the feel-good charm in the boba pearls was doing its job pretty well.
Legally, Jasmine & Pearls couldn’t sell any charms that had effects as strong as alcohol, drugs, or hexes, or they’d need special licenses for that, but the little charms and enchantments available in some of their boba options could influence one’s mood for a short amount of time. Feel-good, tranquility, energy, focus, that kind of stuff.
A lot of the tables had been pushed to one side to make room for the stage, so you took your drink to the bar seating that was against a window, keeping your eye on the figure on stage. As he was readjusting the microphone, you caught a flash of scales under his skin, realizing that he too was a siren, and suddenly the employment choices felt a bit more intentional than coincidental.
Red and pink heart-shaped confetti had been sprinkled along the bartop, and you brushed some of it aside to be able to set your cup down. You were humming along to the love song playing over the speakers as you scrolled on your phone when you swore you heard your name. Straightening up a little, you listened carefully for it again.
“Y/N?” Someone gently tapped on your shoulder this time.
You turned around atop the stool you’d been sitting on, not prepared for who was behind you. Jung Sungchan was standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his worn black leather jacket. Honestly, you hadn’t thought much about him since your date five or six weeks ago. Your focus had been on school— with this being your junior year, you had a lot to get together in order to be ready to apply for grad schools, Botany Club, still going to work, and keeping up with friends around all this somehow. One failed date that wasn’t even in your top five worst dates hadn’t really been keeping you up at night. And yet somehow here he was.
You were sure that the surprise was evident on your face, and you probably left just too long of pause hanging in the air before you finally said something. “Oh, Sungchan, hi.”
“I thought that was you. Hey.” He offered a friendly smile.
“How are you?”
“I’m—” He was cut off by a distant shout of his name that only got closer.
“Hey! Sungchan!” It was Shotaro, the siren approaching with a prepared drink and straw, shoving them in the werewolf’s hand. “Dude, you can’t just walk away from the counter like that while we’re making your drink, then I have to come chase you down when you don’t hear your name.”
Sungchan accepted it from the employee guiltily. “Sorry, Shotaro.”
“Anyway! I’m glad you two have met.” Shotaro beamed at the pair of you, throwing an arm around Sungchan’s neck. “Y/N, this is my roommate I was talking about, Jung Sungchan. Sungchan, this is Y/L/N Y/N, she’s a regular here and goes to our college.”
Your eyes widened minutely in alarm as you suddenly connected way too many dots. Oh god, Shotaro’s roommate had an awful date, Sungchan is Shotaro’s roommate, you and Sungchan had gone on a date that night, the very same date you had also complained to Shotaro about. And who knows what terrible things Sungchan might have told the siren about the date, about you. After all, you had been the one to walk out on him.
You felt like you were going to puke as Shotaro gave Sungchan a sharp slap on the shoulder, winked at you behind his roommate’s back, and walked back to his station behind the counter.
After a heavy, long, awkward pause, Sungchan finally spoke up. “So… what did you get?”
“Oh, uhm… the Lovebug. What about you?”
“Me too, same. Lovebug.”
Another pause as you watched Sungchan open his straw and poke it through the plastic seal covering the top of the drink.
“So are we going to address the elephant in the room?” You decided to just get it over with.
“Which one? I feel like we have a whole herd at this point.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Okay, fair. I meant Shotaro. I’ll be the first to admit that I confided in him after our—I’m sorry to say but—disaster of a date.”
“That’s a generous assessment, actually.” Sungchan agreed. “And I told him about it too. I mean, we live together, it was hard for him not to notice when I came back home less than an hour after I left.”
“Ah, yeah…”
“I didn’t say anything bad about you, by the way. I told him it went horribly, because I ruined it, of course, but you were perfectly lovely. Truly way more level-headed than I deserved.”
“Oh, no, Sungchan,” you tried to reassure him. “Really, like I said before— Sometimes things just don’t work out.”
“I know. But still, I treated you awfully, and I am really, really sorry about that.”
“Thank you.”
A crackling came from the speakers up front, snapping your attention back to the man on stage. Baekhyun had gotten the microphone connected, and you saw Shotaro darting from the stage to his spot at the register as his boss called for everyone’s attention. “Hello? Hello? Great, this is working.”
He flashed a dazzling smile to the small crowd. “Hi, if you don’t know me, I’m Byun Baekhyun, I own Jasmine & Pearls here. If you’re in line, don’t panic, we’re not starting quite yet. I just wanted to thank everybody for coming out here tonight, this is honestly a much better turnout than we had expected. I, of course, also want to thank my two incredible employees, Shotaro and Yuta, for working tonight too.”
The two sirens behind the counter both waved as they got a round of applause, then everyone’s eyes were back on Baekhyun.
“We’re going to be starting Valentine’s Bingo in about five minutes or so. I just want everyone to know that you will need a partner for this. So if you came out here by yourself, find another single person out there and you know… get talking.” He grinned, and you swore his gaze lingered on you and Sungchan for a millisecond too long to be coincidental. “Okay, awesome, I’ll be back up here in five to get it started.”
Your eyes flashed over to your friend that was working, remembering exactly when he told you that you could play the game by yourself, and now suddenly you needed a partner. Shotaro was contentedly ringing up a customer’s order, though, seemingly not even paying you nor Sungchan any mind.
“So, uh, want to partner up? For the bingo?” Sungchan asked, then rushed to tack on, “Unless you’re waiting for somebody?”
“I’m not waiting for anybody,” you smiled, gesturing to the stool beside you for him to sit down.
“How have things been with you?”
“Good, they’ve been pretty good. Just a lot of school and Bot Club.”
“Bot Club?”
“Magical Botany Club. I’m the Vice President this year.”
“Oh, cool. So that’s how you know Jaemin, then.”
“Yeah, yeah. Him and Lee Donghyuck, we’re all on the board together.”
“How’d you get into it?”
“Because I sucked at gardening,” you admitted with a laugh. “My freshman year, my parents gave me this cactus to have in my dorm, and I killed the thing somehow. They can survive in deserts and the most extreme climates in the world, and it perished in my dorm room. I joined Bot Club hoping for some tips, and everyone just immediately thought I was beyond help. Jaemin and Hyuck were the only ones who actually took the time to help me. And it took a lot of time.”
Sungchan was smiling too, genuinely. “You must have grown to really like it, to stick around after getting your cactus caretaking tips.”
“Yeah, I do.” You nodded. “What about you? How’s school been for you?”
He grimaced a little. “Could be better, honestly.”
“Oh no? Why? What’s wrong?” You frowned.
Before Sungchan could answer, another person had approached the two of you. It was Baekhyun, a stack of square bingo cards in one hand and box of markers in the other. His silver eyes seemed to glitter in the lights as he smiled at you, his opalescent scales refracting a whole rainbow of colors where they sat just under his skin along his cheekbones, bridge of his nose, and forehead.
“Hi!” He greeted the two of you cheerfully. “Are you two together?”
“Oh, uh, yes,” Sungchan nodded, reaching out to grab your bingo sheet and marker before the store owner flitted off to the next pair of customers.
He set them down on the counter in between the two of you, but your focus was still on your conversation.
“So what’s wrong, Sungchan?” You asked, taking another sip of your drink.
“I mean, it’s just been a bit stressful is all,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “One of my professors asked me to do research with him, and then I took an SI position with another professor too, on top of all my classes. Just kind of got a lot on my plate.”
“Oh, okay. But that sounds like a great opportunity, at least. Your professor asking you to do research with him.”
“It is, it’s some seriously cool stuff.”
“What’s—”
Baekhyun clearing his throat into the microphone from the front cut you off, and you gave the werewolf an apologetic look.
“Sorry. But I do want to hear about it later, Sungchan,” you squeezed his arm before turning around to face the stage.
“Alright, we’re going to be getting started then.”
As Baekhyun kicked off the first round of bingo, you found yourself tapping the marker against the bingo card as you sat there. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sungchan awkwardly leaning over as he tried to look at the sheet too, and you realized you’d been hogging it.
“Oh, sorry, here,” you moved the sheet more into the middle, at the same time that you scooted your stool over towards him to lessen the gap between you. “Is that better?”
Sungchan’s shoulder was just behind yours as he looked over you at both the card and the stage. “Yeah, yeah, thanks.”
“Did you want to mark them off? Sorry, I just grabbed it without thinking.” You offered the permanent marker out to him.
“No, it’s all yours.” He shook his head, then tapped his finger to the middle spot. “But you did forget the Free Space.”
“Oh, shit, thanks.” You crossed it off with an X.
Baekhyun called out number after number, and you and Sungchan worked together to search the small card for them.
You clicked your tongue as you couldn’t find the one the shop owner had just called out, and were about to pick your cup back up to take another sip of your drink, when Sungchan spoke up happily.
“Found it!”
“Oh, where?” You hovered the marker over the card, scanning the little letters and numbers.
“Right there.” He’d pointed, but his hand was gone too fast, and you lost it again.
“Wait, where?”
“Right…” he reached over to wrap his own hand around yours that was holding the marker, and dragged it over to the correct square. You giggled as he guided your hand to draw a messy X like you were a toddler learning to write your letters for the first time. “…There.” He finished, letting go of your hand.
“Ahh, okay,” you nodded slowly. “I see… I’m illiterate.”
“Well, I wasn’t going to say it.”
“Hey!”
Sungchan laughed as you gave a half-hearted smack against his chest, and you couldn’t help but smile too. After all, it was your self-deprecating joke first.
He patted your back, apologizing through his chuckles, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“Apology taken under consideration.”
“Oof, I don’t like the sound of that. Anything I can do to better my chances here?”
“Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to think as you tapped the capped end of the marker against your bottom lip.
Sungchan watched you, his elbow resting on the bartop and his cheek in his hand. The only thing separating you two was the bingo sheet, the game which you weren’t even focused on anymore. Your back was entirely turned to the stage now, gaze set only on the werewolf next to you.
Just as you’d parted your lips to make your proposal, you happened to hear Baekhyun announce the next number.
“O13!” The siren’s voice carried well through the speakers. “O13!”
You let your eyes flick down, immediately catching on that open square on your card. And it completed the row. You marked it off, a giddy grin spreading across your face as you went to elbow Sungchan. “Look!”
“Oh damn! Nice!” He raised his hand, as did you, as he called out. “Bingo! We got bingo!”
Baekhyun’s features lit up as he stopped his progress of reaching for the next bingo ball. He practically purred into the microphone, “Well, well, seems like we’ve got our first bingo. If one of you could read it out so I can double-check it, then we’ll see about getting you two your prizes.”
Sungchan called out your five spaces, and Baekhyun nodded with each one, the room erupting into applause when he declared that you two had won that round.
“Alright, come up here so I can give you your prizes and punch your tickets.” The siren waved you up.
You looked to Sungchan expectantly, and he gestured for you to go up ahead of him. Instead, feeling a bit uneasy with the entire café’s eyes on you, you latched onto his forearm and dragged him up right alongside you.
“So you each are getting a gift card to the shop—” He handed you two small cards, then turned around, where Yuta had appeared with a couple more items. Baekhyun then handed each of you a denim baseball cap that had the logo of the shop on the front in lilac purple thread. “And Jasmine & Pearls embroidered hats. Thank you so much for coming here and playing.”
You accepted both prizes from him, feeling over the embroidery on the cap with your finger.
“And if you’d give me your event punch cards, I’ll go ahead and give you your punches now, since you unfortunately, won’t be allowed to play to win again. Fairness and all that.”
You and Sungchan handed over your punch cards, and the siren gave each of you another heart-shaped punch before giving them back.
“Now, we will be playing two more rounds, so don’t worry if you didn’t win this time,” he announced to the rest of the crowd as you and Sungchan headed back to your seats. “I’ll hand out brand new cards to everybody, and we’ll restart. Y/N and Sungchan, you’re free to play again for fun, if you’d like. You just can’t play for profit.”
Sungchan looked over at you in a silent question, and you shook your head. You were happy to play and win just the one time. After all, with everybody else still occupied, this would be the perfect time to do the other activities with little to no lines or crowding.
“No thank you, we’re bingo-ed out for tonight,” Sungchan called out, and the host nodded graciously.
“Very well. Everybody else hold tight while I come around to distribute new cards.”
As the two of you finally sat back down at your seats and looked over your prizes, you realized that you had never introduced yourself to Baekhyun. Not when he had passed out the cards, nor when he was giving you your prizes. But he knew your names. You snapped your head up towards the counter suspiciously again, but Shotaro was once again minding his business, cleaning out one of the machines.
Sungchan was readjusting the sizing of his hat, then finally pulled it on, offering you a lopsided grin. “What do you think?”
“Looks good on you.” You tapped the brim of it, feeling a familiar airiness in your chest, one that you hadn’t felt in some time. “You wear baseball caps a lot?”
“For sure, so I’ll get good use out of this.”
“Wear them for fashion or do you play a lot of sports?”
“Oh, uh, both, I guess? I like how they look, and I usually wear them when I’m out playing whatever to keep the Sun off my face, yeah.”
The pictures from Jeno’s Instagram of Sungchan on their trip to Cape Solaria suddenly came to mind, and you diverted your eyes down to the gift card in your hand as your skin started getting warmer and warmer. At this rate, he was going to be able to hear your heartbeat picking up the pace and the idea of that in and of itself was embarrassing enough to make it gain even more speed.
“So…” Sungchan inhaled, and you looked up with both your eyebrows raised.
Admittedly, you’d completely forgotten where the two of you were in your previous conversation. “Hm?”
“Do you want to finish the other two punches together?” He asked. “I know they’re not partner things, but we’re both here, and everyone else is busy doing bingo, so it’s probably the best time to do them and—”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” You grinned at him, standing up off your stool. “I’d love to, Sungchan. Besides, you’re still supposed to tell me about your research, remember?”
His features lit up as he followed you over to the origami station. “Right, right! Are you sure you want to hear about it, though? It’s on climate change and how it affects human disease, it’s a little doomsday-ish.”
“Ah, perfect for the holiday.” You pointed to the giant paper cut-out of a cartoon Cupid hanging above your heads, then reached for your first square of red paper. “I’m sure, go for it.”
“Okay, cool,” he beamed at you, grabbing a piece of patterned pink paper.
As Sungchan walked you through all the intricacies and machinations of the topic that his research with his professor was on, you were genuinely happy at how much you understood. He didn’t mind slowing down to answer your questions, or explain concepts that you didn’t know already. And you two could have an actual conversation tangential to the topic, because you had taken a Magical Conservation class just last semester that dealt directly with how climate change was affecting a lot of magical creatures, such as sirens who typically lived in and around glaciers that were now losing much of their native habitats due to the lack of year-round sea ice at the poles. And all the while, you both tried your damndest to make an origami heart.
“Okay, what the fuck?!” Sungchan huffed, cutting himself off in the middle of a thought about disease vectors. He smacked his crumpled piece of paper that looked nothing like a heart onto the table. “I’ve taken engineering classes, how am I getting bested by a primary school arts and crafts project?”
“It’s not a—”
“It literally says ages 8 and up on the instructions.”
You pressed your lips together in a line. “Ah. So it does.”
Yours didn’t look much better. It seemed as though you were both getting bested by a project meant for children.
“Well, Shotaro did say we just had to show him we tried and we’d get the punch,” you reminded him.
“No, no, I can get this,” he shook his head, grabbing a fresh sheet. “I just need to focus, and not talk while I do it. You’re too much of a distraction.”
“My apologies, I’ll be quiet this time,” you chuckled, covering your mouth with your hand as you leaned against the table to watch him try again.
He made every fold with precision, but you found that you weren’t really watching him fold so much as you were watching him. His brow was set in concentration, a small crease emerging in the knit of his brows, his eyes narrowed slightly, and the very tip of his tongue poking out from between his lips. It was cute, adorable, endearing, everything in the thesaurus, and you could’ve sat there and watched him fold origami hearts all night if he wanted to, punch card and free drink be damned.
Sungchan stood up straight, his features relaxing into a proud grin as he held his completed piece up for you to see. It was definitely a heart this time, a simple baby pink color, and you were amazed at how straight the lines were.
“Nice, Sungchan!” You praised him. “That’s what those engineering classes were for, huh?”
“I wasn’t going to let some project for ages 8 and up that Shotaro picked out get the best of me!” He declared, and you could practically see his chest puffing out with pride. “I’m not going to give him the satisfaction.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “So that’s what this was? Fragile STEM major ego?”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “Isn’t sociology a science?”
“I think you’re the first hard science major to ever say that.”
“It ends in -ology.”
“So do phrenology and astrology.”
“Fair. But seriously, is it not?”
“It is. But usually, you engineering and whatnot majors don’t like to consider us ‘soft sciences’ like sociology and anthropology and psychology to be ‘real sciences,’ whatever the hell that means.”
“Ohh, yeah… I’ve got better shit to do than tell a scientist that they’re not a scientist.”
“Like make children’s crafts.”
“Exactly.” He gave you another smile brighter than the Sun.
You nodded firmly. “A much better use of your time. Now, are you ready to take these to Shotaro?”
“Yeah, let’s go!”
As the two of you walked up to the counter, you continued your earlier conversation, “And I will remind you that I’m actually an Interdisciplinary major, and also study MCS. Both of which are considered humanities, a label that I wear with pride, even more so than the ‘soft science’ one.”
A smile tugged at the corner of Sungchan’s mouth as he looked down at you. “Noted.”
Shotaro was standing at the register, hands folded over each other and a smug smile on his face as he watched the two of you approach together. “Well, hey, guys! Congrats on your win!”
“Thanks, Shotaro.” You smiled back, holding your paper heart out to him. “We did the origami too.”
Sungchan held his up too, and you could see the proud look on his face as he did so.
“His is a lot better than mine,” you admitted as the siren took just a second to appraise them. Seeing the two side-by-side, yours was a bit misshapen, folds across parts that were supposed to be flat from you having to undo and redo parts over and over again.
“That’s okay! You guys just had to try,” Shotaro reminded you, picking up the hole punch. “Punch cards please?”
With just one punch left, you and Sungchan headed over to the photobooth in the corner. It was set up so that you didn’t have to pay for any of the films. Sungchan climbed in first, and you watched nervously where his head almost hit the top of the entrance.
“Goddamn this thing is tiny,” he observed as soon as he had poked his head in past the curtain.
“Is it small or are you a giant?” You asked pointedly.
Sungchan had fully entered the photobooth then, and retorted back, “Get in here and find out.”
As you parted the curtain and put just your first foot in, you immediately realized how cramped the two of you were going to be. “Okay, maybe a bit of both.”
“Uh-huh.”
Sungchan was already sat on the bench, and pressed himself as far back into the corner as he could to give you enough space to sit next to him. Your leg was squished in next to his, and his arm ended up around your shoulders. He was warm, as expected for a werewolf, whose body temperatures all ran naturally higher than humans.
As he shifted his shoulders and arm to settle around you, he double-checked, “Sorry, is this alright? It’s tight in here—”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you turned your head to give him a smile, but were instead caught off-guard by just how close his face was to yours. If either one of you shifted forward right now, you would hit noses. Your breath hitched in your throat as you made eye contact with him. Oh, he could definitely hear your heartbeat in the tiny space afforded by the photobooth, surely as clear as you could hear it thudding in your own ears. God, you’d always thought he was cute, but something about being so close, and the lights in here hitting the angles of his face just right, he was striking, handsome. You curled your hands into fists in the material of your pants, not trusting yourself not to grab him and do something too wildly out of pocket.
The screen played a short melody at you, knocking you from your trance, and you turned your focus back to your task.
Pressing a couple buttons on the touchscreen, you looked between the height of the camera and Sungchan, squinting. “Is your head even going to show in frame?”
Sungchan swallowed, then cleared his throat before he spoke, as if his mouth had gone dry. “Guess we’ll find out after.”
“Alright, it’s a four-cut.” You announced after skimming the easy illustrated instructions. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” He gave you a thumbs up.
“Okay. 1, 2, 3.” You pressed the start button before sitting back in your seat against him again.
You smiled and held up a peace sign for the first one, and in the split second of the flash going off, you heard the werewolf next to you curse under his breath, “Fuck! That’s bright—” accompanied by the feeling of him flinching back, and immediately followed by a distinct thud.
Turning around as much as the space could allow for, you saw Sungchan curled in on himself, his eyes squinted shut presumably both in pain from the flash and from where he had just smacked the back of his head against the wall of the photobooth, judging by the hand he was cradling it with.
“Ooh! Sungchan, are you alright?” You asked through giggles, unable to get over the comical thunk! sound that his head had made.
Another flash went off, startling him into hitting his head again with another bonk! and this time you couldn’t help but burst out into full-bodied laughter, turning back toward the camera to not laugh directly in the poor guy’s face. You could barely see the third and fourth flashes because your eyes were squeezed shut as you laughed, running out of air and having to prop yourself up with a hand on Sungchan’s knee to not keel over.
Finally, you started sobering up enough to squint your eyes back open, and through your tears, you saw Sungchan smiling down at you as well.
“Alright, I don’t know if it was that funny…” he sighed, still holding his head.
“I’m-I’m sorry,” you tried to apologize through your wheezes. “It was the sound, and the two in a row, it was just too much for me. I’m not laughing at your pain, I promise. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m alright. Thanks.” He reassured you, dropping his hand from his head and resting it on the one that you still had on his knee. “I… I really like your laugh.”
Your hand suddenly tingled. “Oh. Thank you…”
After a beat, he shifted his gaze from yours. “So where do the films print out at?”
“Uh, on the outside of the booth. Should be two, one for each of us.” You said quickly, getting up to exit the booth and put some space between the two of you again.
Sungchan followed you out, and you easily found the dispenser, where there were in fact two film strips. He grabbed them for you, looking over them first. A smile spread across his face as he continued holding them, and you started getting antsy the longer that you hadn’t seen them.
“What, are they that bad?” You asked with a light chuckle.
“What?” He snapped his focus up to you.
“You’ve been smiling at them for an awful long time. Did I blink or something?” You joked, knowing very well that you were laughing for half of them.
He sucked in air through his teeth, shaking his head regretfully. “Yeah, I think for your own sake, I should keep both of these. I mean, I look great but—”
“Sungchan, let me see!” You reached for them, but he yanked his hand back from you at the last second.
You lunged for them again, but he once again kept them just out of your reach, a sly grin on his lips. The next time you tried to grab them, he held them above his head, and he most unfortunately had a significant height advantage over you.
You were already in his personal space from grabbing for them before, practically chest-to-chest (well, really chest-to-face), and now had to crane your neck straight up to look at them. With a huff, out of breath, heart racing for more than one reason now, you weakly pulled on his shoulders as you pouted, “Sungchan, please!”
“Here, I warned you.” He said melodramatically, handing you one copy of the film strips.
You eagerly held it in both hands, scanning over the four pictures on it. The first one was normal, it looked like Sungchan had taken your lead and both of you were smiling and throwing up peace signs. The second one was where everything went to chaos. Sungchan was wincing in pain in the corner, holding his head, as you had the back of your head to the camera, one hand reaching uncertainly towards him. In the third, you were turned back towards the camera, a little blurry as you laughed, and Sungchan was squinting one eye open to look at you. And in the last one, you were still laughing, leaning on Sungchan for support as there was nothing but simple joy on your face; and Sungchan’s features had relaxed out of pain as he gazed down at you with a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Not as wide as yours was, but no less dim.
“These are so cute! You liar!” You elbowed Sungchan in the side.
“You didn’t let me finish. I look great, but you look radiant.”
“Good save.” You joked, but couldn’t suppress the smitten grin that wormed its way across your face. “And I’m keeping mine.”
Sungchan reached into the pocket of his jacket then, pulling out his pristine, baby pink origami heart from earlier. He held it out to you. “I-I wanted you to have this, too.”
“Aw, Sungchan…” You accepted the paper heart from him.
“Feel free to throw it out when you get home, I get it.”
“Hey, stop that.” You pinched his forearm where the sleeve of his jacket had fallen down. “Don’t do something sweet and then immediately take all the sincerity away by covering it with a layer of self-deprecation. If you’re going to be a sweetheart, own up to it or don’t do it at all.”
He rubbed at the back of his neck, and you could see a flush creeping up from his collar to his cheeks. “You’re right. I wanted to give you that, sans trash can.”
You were beaming, tucking it into the inner pocket of your jacket and patting it. “Thank you, Sungchan. I’d offer you mine, but I think it really should go in the trash.”
“Look who’s not taking her own advice, hm?”
“Alright, if you want it,” you sighed, taking your own lumpy attempt at the origami heart out of your pocket and handing it over to him.
Sungchan plucked it from your fingers smugly. “Thank you.”
“I expect you to be buried with that now, by the way.”
“I’ll be sure to write it in my will.”
The two of you were still chuckling as you walked up to the counter again, your film strips and punch cards in hand to show them to Shotaro. Your siren friend reviewed the pictures with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“You guys are so cute,” he commented so very subtly. “But uh, what happened here, Sungchan? Did you hit your head on something? How did you manage that one?”
As you covered your mouth to hide your giggles at the memory of the double bonk! resurfacing, Sungchan took his film strip back from his roommate. “Alright, are you going to give us the punches or not?”
Shotaro punched the final heart-shaped holes into both your cards. “And with that you’ve completed all the punches! Unfortunately, you can’t redeem the free drink tonight, but by all means, you are more than welcome to stay and hang out some more. We’ve got extended hours tonight, so you can keep doing the activities if you like, or just, you know… stay and chat or something.”
“Right, thanks, Shotaro.” Sungchan led you away with a hand on your back.
You ended up back at your original seat that you had sat at for the bingo game. The game finished while you were in the photobooth, the other patrons now milling around the shop again. Some were sitting, sipping on their drinks and enjoying each other’s company, others at the origami stations, others lining up at the photobooth, and still others back at the register ordering again. You looked down at the film strip in your hands before tucking it away safely with Sungchan’s origami heart. Looking around, you saw that Baekhyun was making rounds now that he was done hosting bingo, greeting customers and having conversations with everyone he stopped to talk to.
You didn’t want to leave yet, to have this night be over, to have your time with Sungchan be done. At least not without knowing if you’d see him again. This had been fun, really fun, and you wanted to see him again. Every bad first impression of him you’d gotten from your date had been wiped away.
“Hey, Y/N?”
You snapped your focus back over to him at the sound of his voice, trepid and unsure. You offered him a reassuring smile as you replied, “Yeah, Sungchan?”
He had taken his hat off, and was messing with the seam along the bottom band nervously. “I know I already said this, but I really am sorry for everything I said to you before. I was so incredibly wrong about you.”
“And I’ve already said thank you, so I suppose I’ll say I forgive you this time.” You squeezed his forearm. “So would you stop apologizing now?”
“I know we can’t start over completely, but…”
“Yes?” Your voice pitched up hopefully, your heart soaring along with it.
“Friends?”
Splat. Your heart plummeted back down with tremendous velocity.
It took all your willpower to keep your face from showing the disappointment you’d felt, and even then, you were sure it still fell minutely. You slapped on a rehearsed, customer service smile for him, too shocked that you’d apparently misread everything so badly to do much more than go through a script of what you should say. “Yeah, sure. Friends.”
Sungchan beamed at you, another heart-stopping, adorable, lopsided grin that now made your chest squeeze painfully. “Okay, great! Thank you, seriously!”
You threw open the door to Jasmine & Pearls the next morning so violently that it swung back the other way and rang the bell twice.
“Shotaro.”
The siren perked up to greet you. “Oh, Y/N! Back to redeem that free drink already, huh?”
“Sungchan here?” Your eyes flicked around the shop warily. You couldn’t see him, but now that you knew that the two of them were roommates, you had to be more careful.
“Oh, I see.” Your friend grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. “No, you just missed him, actually, he had class, popped in on his way to campus.”
“Thank god,” you groaned, collapsing into a stool near the pick-up counter, face in your arms.
“Uh, I’m going to make you a drink. Your usual?”
“Sure…” You mumbled, the sound even more muffled by your arms.
As Shotaro prepared the drink, he picked your conversation back up. “Now, what happened? You two looked like you were having a lot of fun last night. Not to pat myself on the back too hard.”
You lifted your head up just enough to rest your cheek on your arms so your friend could hear you when you spoke. “Did he tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Remember that awful date I went on last month?”
“Vaguely.”
“And Sungchan went on a bad date the same night.”
“Yeah. Did he do some kind of ‘all cards on the table’ confessional with you to try to scare you off?” Shotaro sighed, tossing his hand towel over his shoulder and putting his hands on his hips. “Listen, don’t worry, I know he says he ruined his date that night, but really he’s a big puppy—don’t tell him I said that, he’ll tear my throat out.” He paused, as if realizing what he had just said. “And don’t worry about that ‘tear my throat out’ thing either, I swear he’s super sweet. Honestly, something must have been wrong with that girl, he’s not—”
“It was me.” You cut him off bluntly.
“Huh?”
“Sungchan and I were each other’s terrible date that night.”
The siren slapped a hand over his face with a groan. “Oh my god, what did he do?”
“Now you think he did something? Two seconds ago, you swore there was ‘something wrong with that girl.’” You raised your eyebrows.
“Yeah, but I know you, Y/N. Him saying he fucked up and made you walk out? I can believe that.”
“We don’t have time to unpack all of that, but thanks, I guess.” You settled your cheek in your hand instead. “Anyway, it was all a mismatch at the time. He had his reasons, and I had mine, and I left. I didn’t harbor any ill will towards him, nor had I even thought about him until last night.”
Shotaro snorted, placing your finished drink in front of you. “Oh, well, can’t say the same for him.”
“What?”
“Whatever he did, he felt terrible about it. He kept talking about how he wanted to apologize to you, but he didn’t think you’d want to see him.”
You blinked at him. “Seriously?”
“I just thought it was like when you accidentally say ‘you too’ when the waiter tells you to enjoy your food and then you can’t stop thinking about that interaction for the next six months.”
Remembering the gist of your very short conversation from your one and only date with Sungchan, you shook your head. “No, not quite.”
“But it seems like you two made up last night, right?” Shotaro asked, head tilted.
“Yes, last night was so much fun. It’s what our first date should have been. We got to talk, and get to know each other, and joke, and laugh, and maybe flirt a little bit; and he’s funny, and smart, and a lot of fun...” You explained, trailing off pitifully at the end.
“So what’s the catch?”
“Well, I don’t know why I thought that at the end of the night, when he said,” you dropped your voice to mimic Sungchan, “‘I know we can’t start over completely, but—’ I don’t know why I thought that was going to be followed up by him asking me out, but it wasn’t.”
The siren’s jaw dropped. “It wasn’t?”
“Nope. Friends...” You said with weak enthusiasm, giving him two thumbs-up and a feigned smile as if you were being held at gunpoint.
“Ooh, Y/N...” Shotaro grimaced.
You dropped your head into your hands in defeat. “And somehow I feel even stupider than I did leaving that date.”
“I’m going to ask him what the hell he’s thinking.”
“No the fuck you’re not!”
“Y/N—”
“I told you this in confidence, Osaki Shotaro, not so you could you blab how pathetic I am right back to him!”
“But I just did that with him to you.” He pointed out innocently. “Seems a bit unfair.”
“Thanks for just agreeing with me on the pathetic part.”
“Well—”
“You’re not helping!”
“I’m trying!” He threw his hands up in exasperation. With a sigh, he came up to lean against the counter, voice turning sympathetic once more. “Look, Sungchan probably just thinks that you would want nothing to do with him romantically after he ruined it so stupendously last time. So he doesn’t even want to put you in the awkward position of rejecting him again— or, he at least thinks you would reject him again.”
“You really think so?” You asked quietly, watching a bead of water run down the side of your cup.
“Best I can come up with.”
And all the hope in your chest puttered out like a limp, half-filled balloon. “So that was a guess.”
“I’m a siren, not a mindreader, sorry.”
“Ugh, I’ve got to go. Thanks, Shotaro. For the boba. You were useless otherwise.”
“Bye!” Your friend waved to you cheerily.
Being friends with Sungchan was pretty easy, actually. You already had a lot of the same friends (it was sort of weird that you hadn’t met before that date, you realized), and as long as somebody else was there, it was easy to ignore the ever-present, ever-growing crushing pain in your chest whenever you were with him. You didn’t like that it was like this, you hated being that person pining over one of their friends who had explicitly said that they just wanted to be friends. You’d tried to get yourself to feel like this about other guys—the cute phoenix in your Criminology class, or the funny gryphon that you were partnered up with for a project in your Introduction to Interdisciplinary class. But it was useless, your thoughts always came back Sungchan. And you weren’t friends with him in hopes that one day it would be different, either; you really didn’t want to be that friend. You were just enjoying Jung Sungchan, in whatever capacity you got him in.
And right now, that was a rather tenacious study buddy. When you’d off-handedly mentioned an upcoming test that you hadn’t studied for yet, he immediately made you compare schedules so that the two of you could do a study session before it. So now you were reviewing flash cards of some key concepts as Sungchan was hunched over a notebook of his own. Working on his research with his professor, you were pretty certain. He switched between his computer and handwritten notes so frequently that you weren’t sure how he kept it all straight, and all the numbers and Greek letters and letter letters made your head swim trying to decipher it. As long as it all made sense to him.
It all mostly made sense to you when he would explain it to you, if you were actually listening to the words he was saying and not just thinking about how nice his voice sounded, or how pretty he looked that day. Your brain was truly rotting from the inside out.
And you two were alone. You didn’t know if he had invited any of your other friends and they couldn’t make it or if this was a “just us” thing. That was something that he did that always made it so hard for you to keep your rule of never hoping for more. Sometimes you two would hang out and invite Shotaro and Jaemin and Jeno and Jeno’s girlfriend and maybe even some more of their friends that you weren’t as familiar with; and sometimes when you’d ask if you should invite anybody, Sungchan would reply with a shoulder shrug and a casual non-explanation that this should be a “just us” thing. You could never delineate what made an activity worthy of a group invite or a “just us” thing.
You stared at your screen with immense focus. Not on what was on the screen, your thoughts had long drifted from dryad folk tales and were now in an endless rumination on what the hell a “just us” thing was. You’d been to group study sessions and study sessions with just Sungchan. Group movie nights and movie nights alone with Sungchan—those were an especially bittersweet kind of awful, as he liked to share blankets. Group dinners and dinners with just the two of you. So what made something a “just us” activity? What was the—
Something in your periphery caught your attention, and snapped you out of your pensive thoughts that you’d been stewing in. It was a small, white, origami heart being pushed up from the bottom corner of your computer screen. You took it, smiling at Sungchan across the table from you, who sat up straight now that he no longer had to reach so far to deliver it to you.
Upon second glance, it looked like the heart was made out of notebook paper from his spiral notebook with notes on it in blue ink. You squinted to make out some of It in his messy scrawl, but gave up after reading just a portion of a complicated, technical word.
“Thanks, Sungchan.” You ran your fingertip along the crisp edge of the paper heart.
This had been one habit he’d picked up since the Valentine’s Day event at Jasmine & Pearls, he now made origami hearts whenever his fingers grew restless and he had access to a suitable piece of paper that could be torn to size if needed. You were usually the target of receiving them and now had a steadily growing collection in a small jar on your coffee table. You didn’t have it in you to throw them away.
“Something wrong, Y/N?” Sungchan asked. He had presumably noted the intense way you’d been staring at your screen the moments prior. “Or is the material just that bad for your test?”
“Ehh…” You sighed, rolling your neck out. “Just tired. Ready for the semester to be over, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Is this made of your notes, by the way?” You held up the origami heart.
“Stuff I had to rip out and redo, I messed it up.”
You then stood up to crack your back, groaning at the cathartic cracking sounds that came with it. “God, I think my spine needs to be folded up like that origami, holy shit.”
“Fix your posture,” Sungchan snorted. “You sit like a little shrimp using a computer.”
Your jaw dropped as you put a hand to your chest, unsure of whether to laugh or be offended. Ultimately, you keeled over with laughter, having to plop back down in your desk chair—hunched over—to catch your breath again. Sungchan was watching you with a fond smile, reclined back in his chair with some not very great posture himself.
“A shrimp?”
“A little shrimp,” he corrected you. “A cute little shrimp using her little computer and fucking up her back in the process.”
“Alright, it’s not my fault you’re literally a tree. Anybody is a little shrimp compared to the man who almost broke a photobooth because he was too tall for it,” you teased him back through the fresh squeezing of your chest at him calling you ‘cute,’ even if it was followed by the words ‘little shrimp.’
“You’re never letting me live that one down, huh?”
“Never. I’ll be telling that story at your funeral, where you’ll be buried with my mangled origami heart, remember?”
“You’re banking on the fact that you’re going to outlive me in this scenario.”
“Right, my bad. Werewolves are the hardier species, so obviously you’ll outlive me.”
“Well, statistically—”
“Statistics say nothing about the power of spite, Sungchan. I will outlive you out of spite, so that I can tell that story at your funeral. And if not, I will have a backup recording of me telling that story, and in my will, have orders that it be played at your funeral.”
“You’re going to put it in your will to make sure you have the last word in case I outlive you? Which, statistically, I will.”
“Yes.”
The two of you held your defiant eye contact for another moment before you burst out in coordinated laughter, all tension fizzling out.
“I do expect that fucked-up origami heart to go down with you, though,” you pointed at him through your laughs, still only half-serious.
“Only if one of the hundreds I’ve given you by now makes it down with you,” he nodded, holding his pinky finger out.
You linked yours with it. “Deal.”
“Deal.”
As you walked out of the library together after you’d finally determined that your studying was over, Sungchan checked his watch.
“You doing anything else tonight?” He asked.
“Nothing in particular.” You shrugged. “Eating dinner. Sleeping. Why?”
“Want to come over?”
“Is Shotaro going to be home?”
“He’s closing at the shop today I think.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. Apparently sensing your hesitation, Sungchan nudged your side as he teased, “What? Am I not fun enough for you? You need Shotaro there to convince you to come over, too?”
“Yeah, you’re such a snoozefest, Sungchan,” you wrinkled your nose, elbowing him back. “Taro’s the only thing that keeps me from falling asleep every time I’m over at your place.”
“You hurt me, Y/N.”
With a melodramatic sigh, you relented, “I suppose I’ll make an exception. But I will nap where I see fit if you bore me too much.”
“I’ll take my victories where I can get them.”
At Shotaro and Sungchan’s place, you followed Sungchan into his bedroom. Normally, if Shotaro were home, the three of you would all hang out in their living room. But it was just you and Sungchan.
He toed his shoes off and flopped onto his bed face-first, spread-eagle.
“Oh, and who were we worried about taking a nap?” You scoffed, taking his desk chair. He had a gridded whiteboard above his desk that was mostly taken up by a to-do list of upcoming deadlines. But a small area labeled “Notes” by the company who made it was dedicated to pictures instead: the film strip of you two from Valentine’s Day at Jasmine & Pearls hung there by a magnet in the shape of a hurricane, a picture from the group trip to Cape Solaria from last summer under a tornado, and another of a younger Sungchan and Shotaro (early high school if you had to guess) at an arcade pinned by a tsunami.
Your friend rolled over onto his back. “I’m not napping, just basking.”
“Basking? In what?”
“Being done with today.”
“Have a bad day?”
“Just long. Had a long week, long semester, long three years.”
“Mm, felt that,” you agreed, knocking your own shoes off and folding your legs up in the desk chair.
The two of you were quiet for a while, and you would’ve thought that Sungchan had actually fallen asleep, if you couldn’t see that his eyes were open as he apparently just stared at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with even breaths. You let the silence remain, content to just rest your arms on the back of the chair with your chin atop them, and look at him.
“Y/N?” He finally spoke, his voice soft.
“Yeah?”
Sungchan’s head lolled so he could look over at you, his warm brown eyes focused on your face. He had an unreadable expression on his features; not one of sadness, or pain, or really much of anything. It was like he didn’t even know what he was feeling. “Have you gone on a date? Since... you know, the one we went on?”
You blinked. You weren’t sure what exactly you were expecting him to say, but it wasn’t that. After a moment, you shook your head. “No, I haven’t. Have you?”
The corner of his lip twitched, but from your positions, you couldn’t tell if it was pulling towards a smile or a frown. “No.”
Another beat of silence. You continued staring at each other.
“Do you want to?” He asked, his voice so unnaturally devoid of intonation that you once again couldn’t glean the purpose of this discussion.
“What?” The word tumbled out of your mouth fast, defensively.
“I-I mean, are you going to? Like, is there anybody...?”
You looked at him, taking a good few seconds before you answered. He at least seemed nervous now, stuttering, his eyes flitting between you and the ceiling fan.
“No.” You answered plainly. No qualifying statements: any attempts at expounding would just land you in trouble. “You?”
“No...” He echoed. “You would tell me, right? If you were?”
This felt like a trap. Not from Sungchan, you knew he wasn’t like that, but from the Universe, somehow. And no matter what you did, you were going to fall into the spike pit.
“Yeah, Sungchan, of course.” You mustered up your well-practiced casual smile. “Always need approval from the counsel of friends for that kind of stuff.”
He did smile at that—not a full one with teeth, and it didn’t reach his eyes—but he smiled and nodded. “Good. Got to make sure they’re not a weirdo. You know there’s all kinds of magical creatures who will just date human women for the ego trip in bed, right?”
“I did know that,” you chuckled. “But thanks for looking out for me.”
“Always am, Y/N. And I always will be.”
Rocking back and forth from your heels to your toes nervously, you kept your eyes trained on the apartment door in front of you. Sungchan knocked on it. Your actions were stopped by your friend grabbing your arm and pulling you back down to flat feet.
“Y/N, I told you it’s going to be fine, seriously. They’re your friends, too,” he reminded you for probably the twelfth time that day.
When he’d randomly texted you earlier that morning asking if you wanted to go to Jeno’s birthday party with him tonight, you were very hesitant to accept. Mostly because you hadn’t received an invite from the birthday wolf himself. But after some more pestering from Sungchan, you gave in. Maybe if you didn’t have such a weak heart, you would’ve been firmer on your no. But instead, here you were, having signed your name under Sungchan’s on the birthday card the two of you bought on your way over, a gift card tucked inside with enough money pre-loaded on it to cover a nice meal for Jeno and his girlfriend.
“Then why didn’t he—” Your whispered question was cut off by the door swinging open, the bright smile of Lee Jeno greeting you.
“Hey guys, come on in!” The werewolf opened the door even wider, not seeming surprised at all to see you there next to Sungchan. He gave the both of you hugs after closing the door behind you.
You patted his back in the hug, offering a sheepish smile, “Hey, Jeno, Happy Birthday. Sorry to just show up. Sungchan insisted it was fine…”
“Oh, don’t worry about it! Everyone knows if we’re inviting Sungchan that we’re inviting you, too. It’s cool.” He said brightly. “You want something to drink?”
Trying not to get stuck on that little information bomb he’d dropped so casually, you looked around the fairly packed apartment, recognizing most everyone who was there, including a couple people by the drinks table. “You know, I see Jaemin and Donghyuck over by the drinks, I’ll go get it myself. Thank you, though, and Happy Birthday again.”
Jeno perked up in a different direction as if he’d heard his name being called—which he very well could’ve with his superior hearing—and he took off, disappearing into the kitchen. You’d been to Jeno and Jaemin’s place a few times before, mostly to hang out with Jaemin over the time that you’d known the dryad from Bot Club, and more recently, a couple times for group hangouts since Jaemin, Jeno, Jeno’s girlfriend, and Sungchan were all friends.
“I’m going to get some food,” Sungchan nodded towards the same direction Jeno had gone in. “Want anything?”
You stood on your tiptoes, unable to discern any of the options they had available, other than the fact there would be a lot of it to feed the werewolf guests. “Just get extra of whatever you think I’ll like, I’m not very hungry right now.”
“On it.”
While he went to do that, you made your way across the living room to the two dryads you had spotted earlier, both standing by the drinks table.
“Hey…” You said, still feeling awkward despite Jeno’s easy acceptance of you.
“Y/N! Hey!” Donghyuck greeted you cheerily.
“You made it!” Jaemin gave you a one-armed hug.
“Sounds like you were expecting me then?”
“Well, yeah.” Donghyuck said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world (which was bewildering to you, considering you didn’t even know you were coming until this afternoon).
The two dryads exchanged a look.
“I mean, Sungchan was coming, so…” Jaemin shrugged.
Donghyuck peered around the party. “Speaking of, where’d your wolfboy go?”
“He went to get some food. And he’s not. my. wolfboy, you little shit.” You glared at him. “And don’t call him a wolfboy either, you know he doesn’t like to be called stuff like that. Call Jeno ‘puppy’ or whatever all you want but leave Sungchan out of it.”
“I thought he didn’t like dog terms, but wolf terms he was fine with, since he is a werewolf.” Jaemin said.
“Yeah.” Donghyuck nodded.
You put your hands on your hips with a frank sigh, “As if wolfboy isn’t also diminutive and meant to—”
“Woah, abort, abort, Y/N’s going into Renjun-mode.”
Jaemin looked over at the other dryad regretfully. “Worse than Renjun-mode, this isn’t just educational.”
“You two are so obnoxious, I’m going to stage a coup in Bot Club one of these days,” you declared with a scoff.
“Hey...” Another voice entered the conversation from over your shoulder, and you looked up to see Sungchan stepping in between you and Donghyuck, a plate loaded up with food in his hand.
“Speak of the wolf and he shall appear.” Donghyuck had a wicked grin on his face. You were amazed sometimes that he wasn’t a fairy.
“What were you guys talking about? Y/N didn’t look happy.”
“It was nothing, Sungchan, don’t worry about it.” You tried to reassure him, sending pointed stares at each of the dryads with you.
Donghyuck was apparently not going to let up, though. “Hey, Sungchan, you down to do a little thought experiment with me?”
“Thought experiment?” The werewolf echoed.
“Yeah, just real quick. I ask you a hypothetical question, you give me a hypothetical answer. Just for fun.”
“A thought experiment with Donghyuck. Sounds thrilling, sure.” Sungchan agreed humorously, popping a piece of food in his mouth.
“So, if someone were to call you dog-like terms—which we know you’re not cool with and would never do—who would you most be okay with doing that?”
The werewolf narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why would anybody do that?”
“It’s a thought experiment, Sungchan, come on. Play in this space with me!” Donghyuck whined, shaking the other man’s shoulder.
“Let’s rephrase then,” Jaemin joined in, a mischievous glint in his eye. You looked around to make sure Chenle wasn’t secretly listening in or something, because this surely had to be the work of your fairy prince acquaintance. You spotted the fairy very engaged in his conversation with his dragon roommate Jisung and a few other people. It seemed like the two dryads really were just deciding to be the absolute worst all on their own.
“Narrower scope. Would you be okay with, for example, Y/N calling you stuff like that?”
“Why would she do that?” Sungchan asked, confused.
“Yeah, why would I do that?” You asked, angry. They were clearly trying to get at something specific, make him admit something.
Jaemin offered an example, “Well, you know, Jeno’s girlfriend calls him ‘pup’ as a term of endearment.”
“And why would I do that?!” You repeated, feeling your stomach drop to the floor at how exactly he stressed those words.
“We’re getting off-topic here, it’s all hypothetical, remember?” It was amazingly Donghyuck who sort of saved you. “We know Y/N would never do it. But like… if she did, for some reason unbeknownst to us, what would you do? Would you be okay with it?”
Sungchan’s brow was furrowed as he seemed to genuinely contemplate this while he ate another bite of food. You, meanwhile, were plotting how best to kill two dryads. You knew enough from Bot Club, maybe a super-strong version of the magical weed spray you used would work... Were dryads more plant or more person?
“Well…” The werewolf finally began his answer, seeming to choose each word carefully. “Since I know Y/N, I know that if she were, in this batshit, hypothetical scenario, to do that, that she wouldn’t mean it in a derogatory way. So I guess I’d be more okay with her doing it than other people. Definitely more than you two weirdos who are posing this thought experiment that isn’t fun at all.”
“Thank you, Sungchan.” Donghyuck grinned at him, then turned to Jaemin. “I thought that was very fun and enlightening. What about you, Jaemin?”
Jaemin nodded thoughtfully. “I had a great time. Y/N?”
“You guys are so fucking annoying.” You groaned, grabbing a piece of food from Sungchan’s plate. “Leave me out of your thought experiments next time, please.”
The spring semester ended not long after Jeno’s birthday party, and you very thankfully didn’t have to take any summer classes, freeing up a lot of spare time for you. Sungchan, on the other hand, had to take a couple courses in order to make sure he would graduate on time. While you jokingly whined and complained when he told you about it, you were secretly relieved to have extra reasons to avoid him. As terrible as that sounded.
This afternoon, while he was in class, you had gone down to the river with Shotaro and Yuta, who miraculously both had a day off work at the same time. You didn’t even realize Jasmine & Pearls had enough employees to let the both of them take the same day off.
You were sat in your pop-up chair on the small beachy area, pulling your phone from your bag to check it while the two sirens continued lazing about in the waist-deep water. There was a text from Sungchan from a few minutes ago, and as you opened it up to read it, you realized that he was just sending you a funny picture he’d found somewhere online.
[you: aren’t you supposed to be focusing on class right now?]
“Sungchan?” Shotaro called out to you knowingly.
“What?” You yelled back, holding a hand up to shadow your face from the sun. Looking around your chair, you grabbed your baseball cap that you’d won in Valentine’s Bingo, pulling that on now that you were out of the water.
“You’ve got this little smile on your face that you only get when Sungchan texts you.”
“No I do not.”
Yuta stood up from where he had been floating on his back, shaking the water out of his hair as he asked you with a smirk, “So you don’t have a text from Sungchan on your phone screen right now?”
Your phone buzzed then, a welcome excuse to not have to answer that.
[sungchan: allegedly]
[you: i don’t want you whining to me when you fail that class]
You clicked your phone off, showing them the blank screen. “Nope, nothing on my screen.”
“You’re such a liar,” Yuta sighed, saying it as if it were as simple of a fact as the sky being blue or the grass being green. He trudged through the water up the shore until he could join you, plopping down in his chair next to yours. They had both kept their legs this afternoon instead of bringing out their tails, and he kicked his apart as he got comfortable.
Shotaro jogged up from the water too, grabbing the cooler and rooting around in it for a second. After securing the other half of his sandwich from the lunch that you all had eaten earlier, he sat down next to Yuta, taking a big bite from it.
You took Yuta’s lead and settled back in your chair, closing your eyes and just enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon Sun.
“He talks about you all the time, by the way.” Shotaro cut into your peace and quiet. If you had something within arm’s reach other than your metal reusable water bottle, you would’ve thrown it at him.
“Shotaro...” You groaned, rolling your eyes. You didn’t even need to ask who he was talking about.
“Seriously! ‘Y/N and I did this today.’ ‘Don’t wait up for me, I’m going to the movies with Y/N.’ ‘Y/N told me this funny story today.’ ‘Did you know such and such about this or that? Y/N’s so smart.’” He admittedly did a pretty good Sungchan impression. You would’ve laughed at it in any other context, but instead you were just annoyed.
“Yeah, well, we’re friends. We hang out, and do things together. He’s going to be talking about me,” you snapped. “He talks about you a bunch too. Because you guys, you know, live together. He also talks about his professors, and Jeno, and—”
“But it’s not the same.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He insisted.
Shotaro clearly wasn’t going to let up, so you momentarily engaged this line of thinking, hoping you could squash it. “What’s so different, then?”
“He’ll find just any reason to bring you up, for one. We’re grocery shopping? ‘Oh, Y/N likes this flavor.’ ‘We should pick this up for when Y/N comes over.’ ‘Shotaro don’t get that, Y/N doesn’t like it.’” His impression turned more high-pitched and whining. “We’re watching TV? ‘This reminds me of when Y/N and I did this...’ ‘I bet Y/N would love this show, we should watch it the next time she comes over.’ ‘Y/N has a shirt just like that character.’ We’re hanging out with other people? ‘Hey Sungchan, what uh, what are you giggling at on your phone over there?’” He first kept his normal tone of voice, then switched into his over-the-top fake-Sungchan. “‘Oh, Y/N just texted me something funny. But it’s an inside joke, so you guys wouldn’t get it, sorry.’ ‘Man, I wish Y/N could’ve come, sucks she had to work.’”
“Are you done?” You asked tersely, unamused.
“I could go on ad nauseum—”
“One could argue you already have.”
Yuta snickered.
“—but let’s call it there.”
“Thank God.”
Shotaro wasn’t done with his spiel yet, though. “I have had multiple friends, when he’ll first bring you around somewhere, quietly ask me if you’re Sungchan’s girlfriend and they like, missed when you two started dating.”
“I get it, I get it.” You said firmly, bringing a hand up to rub your face.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Y/N, you’re an MCS major, I’m sure you’ve heard about what can happen to werewolves if there’s something discordant in their lives that isn’t alleviated?”
“You think he’s going to get pupsick because he’s allegedly got a crush on me?” You sputtered out in disbelief, your voice caught between a chuckle and a scoff at how absurd that sounded to you.
“It happened to Jeno.”
“Yeah, but he’s Jeno. With all due respect and no intention to kinkshame, he probably lets his girlfriend put a collar on him.”
Yuta shot up as he cackled, slapping his knee and coughing. He scrambled to grab his water bottle, taking a couple sips as he struggled to catch his breath.
Shotaro pushed on like you hadn’t said anything, “Now, I don’t want to have to put up with a pupsick Jung Sungchan, do you? That sounds awful. For me, obviously, since I live with him.”
“Shotaro, you are half-right about one thing.”
“And what’s that?” He asked smugly.
“I am kind of an MCS major. So I also know that Sungchan isn’t overly touchy with me, he hasn’t given me anything of his that smells like him, he doesn’t feed me, or do any other pre-mating behaviors that are ingrained in werewolves.” You ticked them each off on your fingers. “Look, I hate stereotyping you guys by your species. But if he’s apparently so down bad that he can’t help but talk about me every waking second of the day, wouldn’t at least one of these things that are literally instinctual to him have happened?”
Shotaro raised an eyebrow. “You do know that he’s half-werewolf, right?”
“What?” You blinked at him.
“Yeah, his mom’s a werewolf, and his dad’s a human.”
You’d had an MCS class on the Effects of Modern Integration, which had a unit specifically on the subject of cross-species offspring. Some species could have offspring together while others couldn’t, it depended both on genetic similarity and compatibility of their magic. With humans having no magic, that left only genetic similarity as a factor, making them a lot more compatible for producing such cross-species offspring. Werewolves and humans were one of the more common pairings to have such offspring, as they had one of the most extensive histories of living together.
Sungchan’s behavior on your first and only date immediately sprung to mind. His hesitance around humans dating werewolves just because they’re werewolves. “Are they...?”
“Happily married. They helped us move into our apartment last year.” Shotaro apparently knew exactly where your question was going. “But yeah, Sungchan’s half-human. As best I can tell, he’s kind of like a super-zen werewolf. Able to control everything a lot better than full werewolves because all of the wolf instincts and stuff aren’t as powerful.”
“He still shifts?” Despite the estimated number of half-werewolves being greater than the confirmed population of sphinxes, unicorns, and phoenixes combined, there was little actually known about them academically. It was all word of mouth, as no large-scale study had been able to be done on them. They were apparently reluctant to come forward and make themselves known to researchers. And their friends.
“Yeah, every full moon. Which I think is why he really just considers himself a werewolf.”
“I didn’t know,” you admitted, biting the inside of your cheek as you were still absorbing this information.
“Anyway, he can probably control whatever pre-mating instincts he does have a lot better than full werewolves!”
“And he’s probably doing that because he knows that you know what pre-mating behaviors look like and thinks you would get weirded out.” Yuta suggested, finally entering the conversation instead of just letting you two go back and forth over him. “Since you’re kind of an MCS major.”
“Exactly!”
You pursed your lips, an uneasiness creeping up on you about the whole situation. “I don’t know guys…”
“You said he doesn’t feed you?” Yuta questioned thoughtfully.
“No, he doesn’t. And you two are around us plenty, have either of you ever seen him try to?” You asked pointedly.
“No, but what Shotaro was saying about grocery shopping. He always buys your favorite foods, flavors he knows you likes, even makes Shotaro put stuff back that he knows you think are unappetizing.”
“I’ve never asked him to do anything like that.”
“And yet he does. Now, overly touchy is subjective. Does he—”
“No, we’re not doing this.” You cut him off, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Doing what?”
“Dissecting mine and Sungchan’s friendship and putting it up on a conspiracy board. I’m not playing. And if that’s all you guys are going to do, then I’m leaving.”
Shotaro jumped in, “Y/N, why can’t you even consider that—”
“Because he already asked to be friends and I said yes,” you said angrily, feeling your blood finally reach its boiling point. “I knew what I was getting myself into, and having you guys trying to convince me that it’s something that he already said it’s not, isn’t fucking helping.”
They were both quiet for a beat, and you clenched your jaw. You couldn’t keep sitting right now, you had to go somewhere, do something. If you stayed here, somebody’s feelings were going to get hurt. You stood up, stuffing all of your things haphazardly back into your bag. “Actually, fuck it, I’m leaving anyway.”
“Y/N, we didn’t mean to—”
“I know, you think you’re trying to help or whatever the fuck. But just drop it, okay?” You shoved your feet back in your shoes and slung your bag over your shoulder. “I need to go or I’m going to end up saying something nasty that I don’t really mean and regret it. I’ll see you guys later.”
And with that, you took off, leaving the chair you had borrowed from Yuta on the shore. You took your baseball cap back off to mess with your damp hair as you speedwalked down the city sidewalks. All the angry energy from wanting to just go off on your friends was still coursing through you, and despite Yuta having to pick you up and drive you the couple miles or so to the river, you figured that you might as well walk the whole way back home to blow off steam.
A little more than halfway home, your phone buzzed in your hand with a call, and you glanced at it intending to just send it to voicemail. But it was Sungchan. You stared down at it as you waited to cross a street, an unsure thumb hovering over your screen.
Glancing between your phone and the crosswalk signal, it changed to walk, and you rushed to cross. The call went to voicemail.
Just a few seconds later, your phone lit up with the missed call, a voicemail, then a text from him. You sighed, clicking on the voicemail first.
“Hey, Y/N,” Sungchan’s voice came through clearly. It sounded like he was outside, probably on campus and fresh out of class, if you had to guess by the time. “It’s Sungchan. Obviously. Uh, anyway, I just got out of class, wanted to see if you maybe wanted to come over? I know you’re supposed to be with Shotaro and Yuta, but Shotaro just texted me and said—well, it’s kind of a long story. Just let me know if you can come over, and I’ll tell you when you get here, okay? I’m headed back to my place right now. Okay, bye.”
Shotaro.
Still fucking meddling after you asked him to drop it. If you were less than halfway back from the river, you’d turn around and throttle him.
You checked the text from Sungchan.
[sungchan: hey! i’m out of class. are you busy?]
[you: i can be over in twenty. is that okay?]
You shifted uncomfortably as you stood in front of the front door to Shotaro and Sungchan’s apartment. Your hair wasn’t as damp thanks to your long walk in the hot Sun, and your skin was dry, but you still held yourself as you stared down the center of the white door. You hadn’t knocked yet. You didn’t want to know what Shotaro had told Sungchan, having already convinced yourself that it was everything. That you were about to walk into Friendzoning 2: Electric Boogaloo, this time with Letting Y/N Down Easy. It made your stomach churn, your chest squeeze like a vice around your heart, and your head feel like it had been cast in lead.
You shifted your weight between your feet on the welcome mat, trying to muster up the strength to just knock on the fucking door, when it swung open.
Sungchan was in a pair of dark sweatpants and a dark red t-shirt from your school’s astronomy club—dated for fall two years ago. He offered you a familiar smile, stepping back from the doorway to make room for you. “Hey, I thought I heard you. Come in.”
“Hey. And thanks.” You nodded, slipping by him into his apartment.
Wordlessly, he started leading the way further back towards his room. You longingly looked at the wide-open space of the living room as you disappeared down the hallway. In his bedroom, you saw his desk taken up by his laptop and a spread of notebooks and papers. His bookbag was in his desk chair.
“Sorry, I know that’s your usual spot, but I was doing some homework.” Sungchan had noticed where your gaze was focused. He patted the foot of his bed as he went to sit down against the headboard. “Come on, you can sit with me for once.”
You swallowed and nodded, stepping back out of your shoes and setting your bag down. Climbing onto the end of his bed, you sat with your legs criss-crossed, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap.
“So why did Shotaro text you?” You decided to just go straight into it. No small talk or pleasantries about his class or what homework he was working on. “What’d he say?”
“He told me that he told you that I’m half-werewolf,” Sungchan said bluntly. “I figured I owed you a bit more of an explanation.”
Oh. Well that wasn’t what you were expecting at all.
“You really don’t owe me anything, Sungchan,” you shook your head, your eyes trained on his comforter. “You don’t have to explain who you are to me if you don’t want to.”
“I want to.”
It was a touching sentiment, but it felt like a hot knife right in your gut. He wanted to because he cared about you as a friend. Not in the same way that you cared about him.
You could only manage a soft, “Okay…”
“It’s not some big secret, really. I’m not ashamed of my dad or anything. I love him, he’s a cool guy.” Sungchan started, and you felt like that first part was more to reassure you that it was okay for you to know. He was pointing to a picture that you’d seen a countless number of times before, hanging next to the mirror above his dresser. It was of him at his high school graduation, flanked on either side by his parents, proud, beaming smiles on all of their faces. You’d always assumed they were both werewolves when you’d looked at that picture, and only ever noticed that Sungchan got his smile from his mom, and his nose from his dad. The height difference between his mom and dad never really registered to you, as Sungchan towered over both of them, but now you did see that his mom was almost a head taller than his dad. Not a trait intrinsic to either species, just more of a trend.
But then, his tone turned a little more pensive, “I just... don’t tell people at first because I get a whole slew of questions, from the mundane stuff like ‘How was it growing up with one werewolf parent and one human parent?’ Which like... I don’t know, it was like growing up with two parents? To the people who think that I’m some oddity and therefore they can just ask me completely unprompted about what my dick looks like. And then at the end of it, it doesn’t really matter anyway. I’m just some dumb mutt to them, no matter how you look at it.”
“Sungchan—” His name came out of your mouth instinctually, pained, as you could only imagine what he had experienced to ever be able to call himself that, even cynically as he was doing now.
“It’s okay. I don’t really care about those kinds of people.” He reassured you, offering a small smile. “That’s why I don’t waste my time on them anymore. I just say I’m a werewolf, and eventually they’ll find out more if they need to.”
“I’m sorry, that Shotaro just—”
“Y/N, it’s fine, seriously. I’m okay with you knowing. I know you’re not going to be weird about it. And Shotaro knew that too; I’m sure however it came up in conversation, it made sense for him to tell you.”
You thought about the context of when Shotaro revealed Sungchan’s lineage, wincing minutely. “Okay. Thanks.”
“You can ask me questions, I don’t mind since it’s you.” He then added teasingly, “Come on, Miss Magical Creatures Studies, I know you want to…”
“Not because I think you’re some oddity to be studied, but because I care and I want to understand more about you…” You prefaced your question. “Shotaro said that you still shift every full moon. Are your shifts any different than full werewolves?”
“From what I can tell watching other wolves shift, it’s not as painful, for one. So, bonus!” He said the last word with mock excitement. “The shift itself doesn’t last as long. And some wolves, especially younger ones who are going through their first shifts, tend to get kind of moodier in the days leading up to the full moon. I never got that. Just, everything is kind of… less for me.”
“Everything?” You asked, brows furrowed with confusion.
“My senses are more heightened than a human’s but less than the average werewolf, when I’m not shifted.”
“Ah.”
“And I probably wouldn’t fare great in a werewolf arm wrestling championship,” he tacked on lightheartedly.
“Damn, I had you signed up in one for this weekend,” you joked, clicking your tongue in the back of your throat in fake disappointment. “Put money down and everything.”
He played along, “Well, I guess I can still try for you.”
You smiled to yourself, then looked up at him as you took a deep breath. Whether or not you two were here because you cared about each other in different ways, you at least still cared about each other. And you’d be an idiot to throw out that kind of connection. You’d have to suck it up, hunker down, and connect with him on his terms.
“Thanks for being so open about this with me, Sungchan. I know it wasn’t your choice to tell me, and I know you already said it wasn’t a secret either. But still, I feel... very grateful that you would want to share any part of yourself like this with me.” You tried to pick your words carefully, to convey as much genuine emotion as you could without veering too far into romantic territory. You could still easily picture yourself saying something like this to Jaemin, or Shotaro. Maybe not Donghyuck, though.
“Ah, what’s that?” Sungchan squeezed his eyes shut, a bashful smile coming to his face.
“What’s what?” You asked with a breathy chuckle, feigning offense. “Am I not allowed a moment of sincerity?”
“No, you’re not.” He said it in an overly joking tone, so you knew that he wasn’t actually upset with you.
“And why not?” You mimicked his tone.
He sighed, teasing falling from his voice as he fully leaned back against his headboard, seeming to take you in for a few seconds before answering. “Not if you’re going to be looking at me like that when you’re being all sincere.”
“Like what?”
“Never mind.”
“No, no sir. You do not get to start an avenue of conversation like that and not finish it,” you pointed at him accusingly. “What am I looking at you like?”
The werewolf held your gaze steadily as he said, “Like you want something more.”
You felt your stomach drop as you rushed to get up from his bed, putting even more distance between the two of you. “I’m sorry, Sungchan. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
He knew, he knew, he knew.
“Y/N, don’t get me wrong, please.” Sungchan stood up after you, grasping your hand before you could run out on instinct. His grip was loose so that you could leave if you wanted, but the presence was enough to let you know that he still wanted you there, to listen to him. His hand was warm as it held yours, but it burned like you’d grabbed red-hot metal. “I-I think you’re one of the most incredible, smart, fantastic people I’ve ever met. And I’m so grateful that you gave me a second chance.”
“But you don’t like me like that. Yeah, I can see where this is going.” You shook him off, searching the floor for your bag and shoes. This was going to be embarrassing, putting sneakers back on after getting rejected like that.
“No, I do.”
Sungchan’s words stopped you in your tracks, and you slowly turned back around to face him again. Your heart was a drum banging in your ears, you couldn’t trust that they weren’t all—your heart and your ears—playing tricks on you.
“You… what?” You were dumbfounded, staring up at him with a mixture of disbelief and thinly-veiled suspicion. You’d spent far too long convincing yourself that he just liked you as a friend to throw it all out over three words.
“I was going to ask you on another date, that night at the boba shop, I really was,” he explained. “But I realized just how lovely and wonderful you were. And I thought that you didn’t deserve... all the hatred that would come with it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I love my parents, but growing up I got to see firsthand just the worst sorts of people… The things that my parents would be called, that I would get called, by other humans and other werewolves. It’s gotten a lot better, but I mean, Jeno’s girlfriend got called a knotslut at the park out of nowhere. And you don’t deserve to have that be your life.”
You narrowed your eyes up at him. “You think you’re not worth it?”
It was his turn to be thrown off-guard. “What?”
“You think that you, and being with you, aren’t worth it?” You reiterated.
“I wasn’t really thinking of it like that,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head.
“Do you think that? That you’re not worth it?”
“Well now that you say it like that, no, I don’t think that.” He frowned thoughtfully, his brow set with determination.
“And, I know you didn’t mean it like this, Sungchan, but you took the choice away from me. For a very sweet reason, I acknowledge that. But you didn’t give me a say in the matter. Imagine how that makes me feel.” You sighed, watching guilt flicker across his face. “I’m not going to pretend like I know at all what it was like for you growing up. Or what it’s like now. But I can tell you that I want this, that I want you. I want to be there for you, just like I know you’d be there for me if something ever did happen.”
“Of course I would be,” he declared.
Taking a step closer to him, you tentatively let a familiar airiness return to your chest, chasing out the painful squeeze that had been suffocating you since February. “See? We’ll have each other, Sungchan. Someone calling me something won’t matter as long as you’ll be there with me afterwards. You don’t have to prevent everything bad ever from happening, just hold my hand afterwards until it’s all better, okay?”
“Okay,” he nodded resolutely. “I can do that.”
“And I’ll do the same for you. Deal?” You held your pinky finger out to him.
He hooked his with yours. “Deal.”
Sungchan lowered your connected hands, and you watched curiously as he unlinked his pinky, only to turn your hand over with both of his and trace gentle circles into the palm of your hand with his pointer finger.
“Y/N?” He murmured.
You snapped your focus back up to his face at the sound of his voice, trepid and unsure. He was still gazing down at your hands as you replied, “Yes?”
“I know we really can’t start over completely now, but…”
“If you say ‘friends’ right now, even as a joke, I’m going to kill you with my bare hands, half-werewolf strength be damned.” You whispered through gritted teeth.
He sputtered out a chuckle, shaking his head fondly and the circles on your palm never slowing. “No, no, I wouldn’t do that to you. That would be a terrible joke.”
“Good.”
“I was going to ask...” He inhaled shakily, finally drawing his eyes up to yours. “If we could try that date again?”
A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, and you nodded quickly. “Yeah, Sungchan. I’d love that.”
Sungchan beamed at you, a heart-stopping, adorable, lopsided grin that now made your chest flutter with hope. “Okay! Thank you, thank you!”
You couldn’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm. “You’re welcome.”
Leaping to your feet at the knock that just came from your front door, you ran to answer it. You threw the door open, abuzz with excitement.
It was just about a week later, and you and Sungchan were finally trying that date again. You’d actually seen him once in the intermittent days, at a previously scheduled group movie night at Jeno and Jaemin’s place. The two of you were all knowing smiles and questionably accidental bumps and brushes of skin under the blanket that you shared that night.
But tonight Sungchan was in your hallway, smiling nervously down at you. “Hi.”
“Hi, Sungchan.” You fidgeted with your shirt. He had specifically told you to dress casually and comfortable, but you still felt weirdly underdressed, even seeing that he was in a t-shirt and jeans himself.
“These are for you,” he said quietly, bringing out a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.
As you accepted them from him, you immediately realized that they were made of paper, intricately folded tulips, lilies, and roses of all colors. You couldn’t help but let out a small gasp, thinking about how much time it must have taken him. “An origami bouquet. Oh, Sungchan…”
“I figured you had plenty of hearts by now…” He said as he flushed from his neck upwards.
“They’re beautiful.” You got on your tiptoes, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”
His cheeks were bright pink as you turned around to set them down inside, then looked back to him expectantly. The werewolf led the way out to the parking lot, except you didn’t see his car anywhere around. There was a familiar old blue pickup truck, however, which he was walking towards.
“Your car in the shop or something?” You asked curiously. “Why are you driving Yuta’s truck?”
“Utility.” He answered cryptically, opening the passenger door for you.
“What does that mean?” You questioned with a chuckle, scooting into the middle of the bench seat.
You’d gotten your seatbelt situated by the time Sungchan had walked around and opened the driver’s side. He didn’t seem to have been expecting you to be in the middle, pausing for a second, and looking around flustered as he climbed into the truck too.
“It’s a surprise, like I said,” he muttered, fastening his own seatbelt and starting the truck.
Sungchan drove with one hand on the wheel, the other on his leg next to yours. You drummed your fingers on your own knee contemplatively.
“Sungchan?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I hold your hand?”
“Wh— Yeah, of course.” He laughed shakily as you laced your fingers with his. “You don’t need to ask me about stuff like that.”
“Well you’re so tense right now that I was afraid that if I just grabbed your hand, you might freak and crash the car.”
He cringed. “So you can tell?”
“Yeah, I can tell.” You patted his arm with your other hand. “What’s got you so wound up? It’s just me.”
“Well, yeah, it’s you,” he repeated. “I’ve already messed up so many times with you. I don’t want to fuck up again.”
You contemplated this for a second, watching the passing streetlights. “Think about it like this: Could you possibly fuck up again worse than our first date?”
“I hope not.”
“Then you’re already off to a great start.”
“Y/N, I think you need higher standards,” he said without an ounce of humor or joking in his tone.
You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at that. “Sungchan, you made me an entire origami bouquet and organized a whole night out to surprise me. I think my standards are pretty okay.”
“Alright, but you’ve got to promise that this is my last chance. Like, three strikes and I’m out. Seriously, if I was some other guy, I would’ve told you to throw me to the curb a long time ago.”
You looked over at him incredulously. “Are you seriously advocating against yourself right now? Is this some kind of reverse psychology flirting technique that I’ve never heard of?”
“No, I’m just not going to stop being a good friend because you’re on a date with me. I told you I would always look out for you, and I meant it, even if it’s not in my best interest.”
Nodding with a raised eyebrow, you decided to take his advice at face value. “Okay, your input is noted as part of the council of friends’ round table on my new guy.”
You saw a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. “Good.”
“So, did you tell Shotaro what we were doing?” You asked, curious now that the topic of friends had been brought up.
“I told him we were hanging out.”
“Did you tell him it was a date?”
“No. Did you?”
“If I did, do you think you would have gotten out of your apartment unscathed?” You snorted.
“Fair point.”
The car ride passed with mostly idle chitchat, until he made a turn away from the city center, off onto a back road that you were unfamiliar with. The buildings gave way to trees, the streetlights being replaced only with moonlight and the headlights of the truck or any lone car that you would pass occasionally. A while later, the asphalt became a dirt road, the trees around you getting thicker and thicker. You looked around in interest as he slowed the truck to a stop in a clearing.
“We’re here?” You asked, looking over at him. Your eyes had long adjusted to the nighttime, and you could clearly make out his features.
“We’re here,” he confirmed with a nod, turning the vehicle off.
Sungchan climbed out, helping you down with a hand, and you immediately knew why he’d had both of you dress casually. You were in the middle of the woods, being led to the back of the truck by the hand by your date. He opened the tailgate, and let go of your hand to hop up into the empty bed.
“Wait there,” he requested, now well and good towering over you.
You nodded.
He retrieved a large duffel bag from the truck bed, and you looked curiously at everything he brought out of it. Pillow after pillow, blanket after blanket. The truck bed soon looked like a bed bed, and Sungchan came back over to plop down on the tailgate, toeing his shoes off and setting them aside at the end. He gestured to the bedding with little fanfare.
“All done!”
You hopped up next to him, pulling your shoes off as well and putting them away next to his. Looking at him with a knowing smirk, you nodded to the fact that the two of you were still sitting up. “Now what, Sung?”
“Ah, you’re going to make me spell it out?” He rubbed the back of his neck, ducking his head awkwardly.
“No,” you laughed. “I’m not.”
He took that as his cue to lay down first, leaving an open space right beside him. You settled into his side with no hesitation, resting your head on his chest as he pulled a final fluffy blanket over the two of you. Being a half-werewolf, Sungchan was pretty warm, but you were grateful for the extra comfort anyway.
Up above you two was a gorgeous expanse of a night sky. A waxing gibbous glowed down at you, stars twinkling and winking in and out at irregular intervals.
“It’s so peaceful…” He murmured quietly, shifting under you, still settling in.
“I don’t know, it’s kind of scary out here…”
Sungchan moved to sit up slightly, looking down at you with concern. “Really? You think so?”
“Yeah, what if there’s wolves?”
“Oh my god you’re so annoying,” he groaned, even as he readjusted his arms to hold you closer.
You, meanwhile, were giggling maniacally at your incredible joke, hiding your face in his shirt as you tried to recover. “You mean I’m the funniest person you know.”
“In your dreams.”
Looking back up at the sky, you pointed to a random speck of light. “Do you know what star that is?”
“Which one?” Sungchan asked, craning his head to try to get in your line of sight.
“I don’t know, any of them.” You dropped your hand back down to his front. “You’re in astronomy club, tell me about them, you big Earth Science nerd. Which I say with great affection and fondness.”
“Okay, so you see the Moon?”
“That’s not a star. I do know that.”
He chuckled, which you felt underneath your cheek. “I figured as much. So, starting at the Moon, if you go due North—” he pointed, and you tried your best to follow the path of his index finger. “The first and brightest star you can see. See it?”
“Yep!” You nodded, seeing the exact star he was talking about.
“Then go the right, just a little, there’s a pair of twin stars, see them?”
“Mm… mhm! Yes!”
“Okay, down, and over to the right some more, we’re tracing out the top of a head, then we’re going back up, there’s another pair of twin stars, you see?”
You squinted, losing the top of the head he was talking about, but finally found the second set of twin stars he’d mentioned. “Yeah, found them!”
“Cool. Straight down from that pair, we’re going to find one, two, then over to the left to get the chin, over and up to get the other cheek, and up to round out the head.”
You nodded, vaguely able to picture what he was talking about. “Okay… so whose head was that?”
“Oh, I get to teach Miss MCS Major something!” Sungchan teased.
“Interdisciplinary major…” You reminded him under your breath.
“So that was Lykos, the great wolf in the sky. As in, lycanthropy.”
“Back when scientists thought werewolves were humans with an affliction that could be passed on to other humans. The quote ‘condition’ they were diagnosed with was lycanthropy.” You easily pulled a basic definition of it from class. “Of course we know now that’s not true. Like witches, werewolves are an entirely different species, not just a variety of human. And there’s never been any credible account of a werewolf turning a human into a werewolf.”
“Why is it that humans just think everything is also a human, even when it very clearly is not?”
“Well, if I were to give us humans benefit of the doubt? Uh, to relate to it? Empathy? Recognition of yourself in the other? I mean, it’s better than labeling everything a monster and hunting it down. Which, we also did a bit of.”
“Us monsters did plenty hunting of you guys, too.”
“You say as if you’re not also half-human.”
“Hey,” he frowned down at you suspiciously. “Are you recognizing yourself in the other with me right now? I think we should really save that for the second date—”
“Oh, shut up!” You gave his front a smack as you let out an indignant scoff.
Sungchan was kicking his legs under the blanket as he laughed from his stomach, and when you looked up at him, you saw his eyes squeezed shut tight as he cackled. You watched him with a smitten smile, unable to even pretend to be annoyed for any longer as his guffaws petered out to chuckles then to giggles until he eventually sobered up, and settled his gaze with a heart-stopping grin on you.
The two of you were quiet for a moment, just looking at each other, then he broke the eye contact, turning his eyes back up to the stars. “Uhm— I didn’t finish telling you about Lykos.”
You settled back into your spot, and with your ear to his chest, you could hear that his heartbeat was faster than it’d been before. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing about yours in that moment.
“So, Lykos,” Sungchan picked up where he’d left off before. “You can easily find him by starting at the moon to find his left ear. According to werewolf stories, Lykos was the very first werewolf that we’re all descended from. Because he was so great and powerful, once he passed, his soul ascended to be in the stars to watch over all of his descendants.”
“Wow…” You looked at the stars harder, willing Lykos’ shape to be a little more visible to you than before.
“In astronomy, though, the two twin stars that make up his left ear are called LK 1C04 and LK 2C04. They’re both red giants.”
“Are they going to explode any time soon?”
“Stars are kind of always exploding,” he explained enthusiastically. “They’re perpetually combusting and performing nuclear fusion. Well, most stars, if they haven’t run out of fuel yet.”
“What about when they run out of fuel then?”
“Depends on how big they are. LK 1C04 and 2C04 are both red giants, so when they run out of fuel, they’ll turn into white dwarves. So instead of being a burning ball of gas, they’ll just be emitting a very faint light from the remaining energy leftover from their previous nuclear fusion reactions that they can no longer perform.”
“So they don’t get to go out with a bang.”
“No, not really.” Sungchan pointed up at the sky again. “Okay, you remember Lykos’ chin?”
“Yes…”
“So that’s actually the end of the tail of a squirrel, according to some dryad traditions, or a gecko in some human ones.”
Sungchan sketched out the next constellation for you, then relayed the accompanying folk tale. Some scientific factoids would be interspersed too, and you loved hearing the enthusiasm in his voice as he told you about something he was very clearly interested in. And at some point, with his legs tangled up in yours, your hand curled around his waist, your cheek pressed against his chest, his hand casually rubbing up and down your back underneath your top as he still spoke so eagerly, you found your attention slipping away from black holes and how legends of ancient wyvern society said this or that about some other constellation. You were suddenly grabbing him by the collar with two hands and yanking him over to look at you.
“Y/N?” He asked, absolute bewilderment in his features.
“Jung Sungchan, I’m going to say this once, and please don’t take this the wrong way,” you murmured, holding eye contact with him very seriously. “You’re very attractive when you talk about things that you’re passionate about, and if you don’t kiss me right now I think I’m going to explode.”
Sungchan didn’t need to be told twice, reaching up to cup your cheek. Despite your rather blunt and unromantic request, he still tenderly guided your lips to his. Your eyes fluttered shut as you melted into the kiss, the grip you had on his collar relaxing. His mouth was soft as he moved it ever so slightly against yours. His thumb stroked over your cheekbone, the hand on your back pulling you even closer to him. One of your hands grabbed his waist to anchor yourself down to something on Earth.
It ended all too soon for your liking, though. You were pretty sure you could kiss Jung Sungchan forever. He pressed one more quick kiss to the corner of your mouth before leaning back to drink you in.
“You’re so beautiful…” he murmured, stroking your cheek again.
“Sung?” You whispered.
“Hm?”
“Do you want to kiss me again?”
He nodded, and you leaned forward to bump your nose against his. A giddy smile spread across your face.
PAIR. classmate!heeseung x gn!reader
GENRE. fluff, implied strangers to lovers
WORD COUNT. 1.0k
WARNINGS. none!
IN WHICH: heeseung receives drawings from an anonymous admirer who decides to not be so anonymous anymore...
heeseung finds the first drawing when he opens his locker, a yellow post-it note among his books and papers. he doesn’t think much of it, not until he pulls out his textbook and it flutters to the ground, landing near his feet.
there’s something on the back, so he bends to pick it up and freezes. there’s a raccoon staring at a hamster opening up his locker, a small speech bubble above the raccoon.
i wish you’d notice me...
heeseung smiles despite himself, tucking the note back into his locker.
he finds the second drawing when he’s standing in line for coffee and rummages in his pocket for spare change. he finds two five-dollar bills, and absent-mindedly hands them to the woman with an outstretched palm, who then hands him his drink.
heeseung is more interested in the slip of paper he feels tucked and folded in his pocket, and he quickly thinks back through his entire day and realizes he has no idea how someone’s managed to put it there.
he pulls it out as he takes a sip of his coffee, hissing as it burns his tongue.
the drawing’s cute, it’s a raccoon staring at the same hamster with hearts in their eyes.
heeseung looks at it for a few moments, then folds it back up, sticking it back in his pocket. he doesn’t realize he’s smiling until he catches sight of his reflection in the windows, and thinks he looks uncharacteristically happy.
the third drawing he finds is during class when he flips his textbook open, frowning as he notices something tucked in one of the chapters in the back of the book. he flips forward, eyes widening as he sees another post-it note.
it’s the same raccoon, staring at the hamster curiously. there’s another thought bubble hovering over the raccoon.
do you like the drawings? i wish you’d talk to me.
heeseung smiles and holds the drawing closer, turning it around to see if there’s any trace of the artist. there isn’t, and heeseung frowns.
how am I supposed to talk to you if I have no idea who you are?
the fourth drawing is tucked into his palm as he’s passing through classes, and heeseung whirls around, eyes wide.
“wait,” he calls, but he doesn’t know who he’s talking to, doesn’t know who to look for.
he’s met with blank faces of people walking past him, and his face falls.
he was so close. so close to figuring out who it was.
he moves to stand somewhere near the edge of the hallway, unfolding the paper. he stares at it for a while, folding and unfolding the paper.
the drawing’s split into two halves. on one side the raccoon presents the hamster with the drawing, beaming. on the other half, the one heeseung has been staring at for minutes, is of the raccoon hiding behind a wall and watching the hamster opening the paper.
heeseung sighs, then sticks his hands in his pocket and walks outside.
the next week, heeseung seems uncharacteristically quiet, and he looks at the first drawing he’s taped to the door of his locker.
he doesn’t know why he’s kept it there, but somehow it makes him feel a little less lonely. he supposes it’s because he hasn’t gotten a drawing in a while.
he frowns as someone bumps into him, and heeseung drops his books. he grumbles and reaches to pick everything up, frowning as he searches for the drawing he’d been holding in his hands.
his eyes widen and he swallows. he didn’t lose it, did he?
someone clears their throat and heeseung looks up, curious to see the person who’d bumped into him holding his last book and the drawing in their other hand. “here,” you say, “i'm sorry.”
heeseung blinks, then breathes out in relief. “thanks.”
you smile warmly, then point to the drawing that heeseung is nearly cradling. “did you draw that?” there seemed to be a knowing lilt in your voice, but the boy in front of you doesn't quite catch it.
heeseung looks up again. “oh, this?” he shrugs. “no, i’ve just been finding them everywhere.”
you laugh. “do you like them, at least?”
heeseung smiles, and part of him is wondering why the hell he’s talking so naturally to someone he’s barely even met. but he does. “yeah. although i’m offended that i’m a hamster.” he grins. “i think i’m more of a deer, at least.”
you laugh again, and heeseung thinks he could talk to you forever. “a deer,” you shake your head, eyes curved to crescents. “okay.”
heeseung stands up again. “i’m heeseung, by the way.”
you smile, and heeseung thinks your eyes are rather pretty. “[name]. i’m [name].”
when heeseung sees the fifth drawing, he loses his shit. he opens up his locker and sees another drawing folded so small that heeseung doesn’t see it until it falls out. he picks it up, his eyes widening.
the raccoon is laughing as the hamster puts deer antlers on its head as a headband.
you’re still a hamster, it says in the text bubble above the raccoon.
heeseung walks out of school late, and pauses as he sees you lingering by the bus stop, standing up to stare at the vending machine.
heeseung can feel his breath in his throat, feels the drawing clenched between his fingers, and he marches toward you.
you turn at the last second, eyes warm. there’s a moment of surprise as you see heeseung, and he thinks you nearly look scared.
but heeseung pulls you toward him and wraps his arms around you. he hears your small gasp of surprise, before you hug him back tighter. so he figured it out, huh? took long enough.
"it was you?" he says, softly. tentatively, as if afraid he was wrong.
you hum and smile at him. "you found me."
"and for the record, you'll always be a hamster to me. you were the sad hamster personified when the teacher said you couldn't eat your instant ramen in class last week."
"i-- hey! ... whatever. at least i look cute in your drawings."
SYNOPSIS where university student jake develops a little crush on the girl he sees with a cigarette between her lips in the smoking area and decides he needs to impress her. how else would he do that except calling his smoker friend to teach him how to smoke ( spoiler: it doesn’t go so well. )
GENRE smau, fluff, crack, sprinkle of angst if you read it upside down, golden retriever x black cat duo
☆ commission: lovestruck!au jaemin
note: i do not know how to crochet so please bare with me
there are three people in the crocheting club
two are quiet, hermit type classmates that you have never heard make much more then a small noise or string together the syllables of their name in class
and renjun - who looks you up and down when you come through the door with nothing but the pair of old crocheting needles you got from your grandmother and a ball of yarn that is....in his opinion...the ugliest shade of yellow to exist
but then you sit down after a small introduction and get lost in your project, clumsily making it through your knots, and renjun softens to that
the whole point of this club is to be alone, together
you understand that without having to be told - meaning, you fit right in
after a hectic day of trying to survive classes, the annoying and loud nature of the hallways, and of course all the other woes of youth - this place is a safe haven
and then of course, na jaemin appears on a tuesday at exactly three fifteen sharp
the way he opens the door is sudden and the energy he gusts in with him like a wind draws shudders from the two wallflower classmates, a look of disgust from renjun, and confusion from you
"jaemin, this is the crocheting club are you looking for-"
he flashes a big and white grin at you
"then i'm in the right place!
✧
jaemin is not good at crocheting
to be honest, he can't even sew
he brings the wrong kind of needles with him and doesn't have the slightest idea of what a pattern he's interested in starting
he just makes an offhanded comment about how he likes cats, the big and fluffy ones
renjun's voice waivers with nuisance as he tries to get jaemin on a more concrete path
"well are you going to make a blanket with a cat, a hat with a cat, a pair of mit-"
"whatever you think i should do!" jaemin grins and looks over his shoulder at you "woah, you're in the club too?"
the way he asks makes you think he already knew the answer before stepping through the door
which is weird because..........jaemin isn't your friend
you guys are more like acquaintances by force
he was your lab partner last year when he transferred from organic chemistry to biology 2 which he claimed was because the professor just didn't understand him
but you had heard from rumors floating around that the real reason he'd been switched was due to an secret experiment gone wrong that jaemin had been caught red-handed for
you had debated asking him about it when you two were working together in class, but decided against it
plus - jaemin was good at biology - like ... really good ... so far so that maybe his claim about just being disliked had merit
because someone so talented and excited about science, couldn't have failed and almost blown up a classroom like the rumor whispered about
so keeping your curiosity to yourself, your just tried to keep up with jaemin
who would get to the conclusion before you could even get past the hypothesis
other than that, the most you'd ever really talked to each other was one time outside of the library
you were waiting for a friend and jaemin had come down the hall, flanked by a group of rowdy friends of his, jaemin the center of all their attention
when he'd spotted you he had smoothly pushed himself out of that frenzy and into your quiet, awkward personal space
"you accidentally left this behind last period." he'd fished your half done lab report out of his backpack "i kept it between two textbooks so it wouldn't get crumpled."
as he handed it back to you, you immediately saw that beside your own work were scribbled notes in pencil
"did you-"
before you could ask your question, a hand had appeared on jaemin's shoulder and pulled him back into the body of people taking up the entire hallway
jaemin didn't get a chance to look back at you, but you had watched him and everyone else disappear around the corner
you remembered distinctly that one person, a girl with bright eyeshadow and a collection of keychains hanging from her bag had turned around to shoot one glare at you, and then jaemin and the rest of them were gone
you had looked at the report, noticing that the comments in pencil were corrections to your work - but after each sentence there were a variety of tiny little scribbles
some were smiley faces and others looked like attempts to draw some kind of cartoon characters
even though the corrections were bluntly explaining how your line of thinking was wrong - the drawings had made jaemin's sincerity obvious on the page
he's trying to help me, and still be silly about it
you had remembered thinking: "that's very.....jaemin of him."
✧
despite this one interaction and the scattered lab periods you'd shared, you didn't have a moment where you felt as if you and jaemin had gotten anywhere near close
not as friends, and not as anything more
but yet - as the first session of crochet club that jaemin attends came to a close - he's the one to corner you at the door and ask, with that smile never really leaving his face
"can i walk you to the station?"
"sorry - how did you know i take the train?"
jaemin doesn't look flustered, he just blinks at you as if it's obvious that he should know this
"i ride my bike to school, and you're never at the bike rack. my path goes by the bus and you're never at the bust stop - so, logically speaking, the train is it."
you have the tickling urge in your stomach to one up him
"what if i walked to school?"
he points to the pass case hanging off your bag that clearly displays the ticket you need every day to get on the train
"then why would you always have that?"
you open your mouth to think of some retort, but you really don't have any, so you just look back at him
"is there a reason you want to walk with me - is there something we need to talk about?"
jaemin puts his hands hands in his pockets and shakes his head
"nope. but you can also say no if you don't want me to walk with you."
has anyone ever said no to him?
you think, taking a pause to focus on his face
when you look like that, with the added bonus of his height and the fact that being smart just comes naturally i would assume rejection isn't even a possibility in his mind
"no - i mean yes you can walk with me."
and look at me, falling right into the trap like everyone does
jaemin gives you a thumbs up and turns his body to let you through the door
the first couple of minutes it's silent and you catch some double takes from other students
renjun is at the front of the school when you pass and he raises an eyebrow as you kind of mouth a "i don't know either?"
then, when you're out of the vicinity of the school, jaemin straightens up and stretches his arms over his head
his shirt rides up and reveals the lean skin of his stomach and you involuntarily look up to pretend you didn't see it
"so - why do you like crocheting?" the question catches you off guard "from what i could tell today, it's pretty boring."
"it's not boring!"
you argue, "it's fulfilling, and good for your concentration. plus at the end you make something that you can use and that's the most rewarding part."
"but you can buy a hat or a blanket anywhere. there are machines that make them one hundred times faster, and they're cheaper to buy then spending money on the equipment and the yarn and-"
you stop and jaemin walks a couple of feet ahead before realizing and turning back
"why did you-"
"if you just wanted to make fun of my hobby, why did you even show up to the club today? no one forced you to join us - and you could have left at any point."
a look of surprises washes over jaemin, and then he scratches his head and seems to understand that all he's done is come of as a bit rude
"no - sorry, it's not my intention to criticize you. i just really wanted to know why you like it."
"lots of people like it. for lots of different reasons, just because something is boring to you doesn't mean it's boring to me. for your information na jaemin i don't find science to be all that interesting but you love it right?"
you aren't sure where this is all coming from, a part of you think it's just you exercising your right to tell this guy off for butting into your club unannounced
and the other part is just that......jaemin is always so straightforward and simple. he's always first to find a solution and for once maybe you want to get there first...just a one up against one of the most popular and intelligent students
"well science isn't boring, it's infinite and ever changing. isn't crocheting just doing the same thing over and over and over?"
"there are different-" you stops before you start, the two reasons you have for this conversation suddenly seeming childish and unnecessary
you glare at jaemin and stomp past him toward the station
obliviously, he starts after you, but you point back toward the school
"i would appreciate if you let me walk to the station alone now."
you don't look at his expression as you continue on your way, muttering in your head about how stupid that all was
jaemin watches you, but you don't feel his gaze on your back, instead you fume a little on your way home
but tell yourself that it doesn't matter, ultimately - you won't have to deal with jaemin again
he won't be showing up to your 'boring' club again anyway
✧
jaemin is there before you are, chatting at one of the two quieter students as they stare at him like deer in headlights
"basically, kiwi's don't have wings - but they're still considered birds, but interestingly they have more in common with mammals an-"
"jaemin" you get his attention and he smiles and waves at you as if everything is fine and as it should be. even though that's clearly not the case "what are doing here?"
he lifts his needles, "i'm here to crochet. this is crocheting club, right?"
you cross your arms, "didn't you tell me yesterday that you thought crocheting was boring?"
"i did"
"so then why are you here doing something boring when you have the choice to.........well not be?"
he stands up and you expect him to laugh, to turn this all into some joke that he's been playing out in his head
but instead he just gives you a clear smile
"because my choice is to be here. i want to be here and i want to crochet with you."
a gasp comes from the other two students in the room - renjun walks up behind you at the exact moment jaemin makes the proclamation and snorts
"so you're here to flirt? could the two of you do it somewhere else?"
"that's not-" you start but jaemin tilts his head at you like a puppy awaiting your call
"should we go crochet somewhere else? i want to continue our conversation from yesterday too."
renjun clicks his tongue, "oh your 'conversation' from yesterday huh?"
you feel heat on your skin from the eyes in the room and the absolute shameless way jaemin is staring straight at you with no intention of stopping
"actually, i have to go home - i have...stuff to do." you turn to make a beeline out of there, but in mere seconds jaemin has caught up with you with the cheery look on his face turned to concern
"wait - what do you mean do stuff? i heard you tell renjun at lunch that you're almost done with your scarf project and wanted to finish today at the club."
"oh so are you eavesdropping on me and my boring conversations now too? was not coming here to make fun of my boring hobby again not enough?"
jaemin looks lost, which confuses you because what other explanation could there be
"i was just near you in lunchroom and i never made fun of your hobby."
"jaemin, you literally asked me why i liked doing something so boring."
he takes a second and you're reminded of a loading screen on a game or a computer
"oh." he starts, brown eyes finding yours again "i didn't mean boring as a bad thing."
✧
you sit across from jaemin in the grass of a nearby park and watch him struggle through a couple of the first loops
after a moment he groans and puts the needles down
"it's just not for me."
"you can't say that just because you're bad at it. everyone is bad as a beginner."
jaemin shakes his head, "most things are easy to understand for me - how can i understand cell division but i can't understand how to make a square of fabric?"
you try to suppress a giggle, but jaemin catches you and thins his lips in response
"oh, is it funny that i'm not good at something you can do easily?"
you shrug playfully, "kinda."
he leans back against the tree his bag and yours are resting on as well
"i am sorry again.....i didn't think i would offend you when i ... said all that yesterday."
you rub your arm nervously, after storming out of the room with jaemin following you - you had been offended. mad, even.
but you had fundamentally misunderstood jaemin
he was just curious - as you had been when he was made your lab partner last semester
curious about why he'd been switched, but also just curious about how someone could have so much fun in science class
you didn't have that kind of fun with it - you weren't even interested in it really. you just had to pass the class.
jaemin was doing the same here, he'd just been more vocal about it and had used the wrong word when he'd picked "boring"
he had probably meant to say - why do you like crocheting? personally, it's not easy and fun for me.
which is a question lots of people have about it - and have asked you before
"don't apologize, you were just trying something new and wanted to know more about it i guess."
jaemin shakes his head
"i was trying something new - but i was trying it because i heard you liked it. i wanted to try something you liked."
the words are simple and strung together without shyness, but you don't really know how to take them
"um - why?"
"why what?" jaemin twists some of the yarn around his finger and then glances at you when you don't follow up
"why did i want to try something specifically you liked?"
he continues for you and you nod, unsure of what to add
he smiles and his teeth are pretty just like the rest of him
"because i like you."
✧
you reply the conversation close to a hundred times in your head that evening
"because i like you."
"sure, but you could have found another way to be my friend - you didn't have to force yourself into croc-"
"oh, sorry, let me say that again. i like you in the non-platonic kind of way."
jaemin's voice hadn't faltered, like with most things, he said this without a single hint of worry or lack of confidence
you'd felt the inside of your mouth go dry as you repeated it slowly back to him
"in the non-platonic kind of way?"
"yes." he'd taken the two crocheting needles and pressed the edges of the top sides together "like in this way, you know?"
you'd imagined he was mimicking kissing, but your mind halted that thought because - well - then that meant that na jaemin was implying that he wanted to kiss you
"are you being serious?"
was all you could think to say, the words tumbled out of you without a filter
"pretty serious."
he'd tilted his head and done the whole puppy awaiting your command look that probably sent most people head over heels within seconds
but just kept you sitting there almost dumbly confused
"you don't have to give me an answer now, and don't worry if you don't feel the same - just tell me how you really feel when you decide."
you sit up in bed and ball your fists around your covers
"when i decide? decide what? decide that i -"
you say it outloud and into the darkness of your room before groaning and falling back into your pillows, one hand thrown over your eyes
"not like i have a choice in deciding, it's you jaemin......of course, i like you too."
✧
jaemin is talking with renjun when you show up to the club the next day
and renjun throws a glance your way that immediately reads: please help me get away from this weirdo
jaemin waves at you casually, and it almost makes you forgot what happened yesterday
you sit down at one of the empty desks and take out your nearly completed scarf
looking at it, you nod to yourself, and focus on finally finishing
jaemin stays the entire time too, and you can see from the corner of your eye that he's trying out the technique you'd been showing him yesterday
he catches your gaze once and smiles, but goes back to his work
half thankful that he isn't sliding himself in beside you to talk while you work (or, more importantly - ask you for your answer)
but also half confused at how calm he is even after confessing
you let yourself get lost in your work and when the club ends, renjun and the two other students leaving before you and jaemin do
you look down at the scarf that's complete and then turn to the desk where jaemin is
he's fallen asleep on top of his attempt at making....well you aren't sure
and you get up to wake him
but before you put a hand on his shoulder, you take in the image of him - laying his head on his arms, uniform sleeves rolled up to his elbows
he's got a serene expression, as if he's having the best dream in the world, his bangs falling over his eyes and tickling the desk beneath him
even like this his jawline is sharp and handsome, his breathing is even and his long legs are stretched out past the desk beneath him
he doesn't look like he belongs here, in this room with you, but somewhere else
somewhere ethereal and beautiful
which makes what happened yesterday feel like it isn't real either
you suddenly feel like you shouldn't disturb him
which also make a sinking feeling in your stomach rise as you wonder if you should just ...... say no. maybe, rejecting jaemin is the right choice for the both of you because -
you clutch the scarf in your hands
because you and him don't fit. like failed science experiments, or a badly crocheted pair of socks
"i'm sorry." you start - in a small voice "i'm sorry, but i don't think i should like you back."
"that's silly."
you startle and look down to see jaemin opening his eyes and blinking back sleep
"you were aw-"
"oh! you finished." he points to the scarf and you reflexively let him take it out of your hands
he unravels it and gasps, "it looks even better than the ones in stores. are you going to give it to someone?"
i was going to give it to you. i was going to be selfish and say, of course i like you back. you of all people should be smart enough to know that.
but you're quiet in response and jaemin's eyes flicker a little as the dimming light outside trickles throughout the room
"so what did you mean by that, by thinking you shouldn't like me back?"
"jaemin-" his name sounds too soft when it leaves your mouth "we're different, i don't think we would work out."
"but you haven't tried." he gets up and smiles "you haven't even given it a try."
he dangles the scarf up beside him, "you probably didn't think you could make this when you started - but look at you now. you made this."
he places the scarf gently onto the desk, as if it's going to break if he mistreats it
"and i wouldn't have half as much fun doing the same experiments over and over again, never trying something new to get a new conclusion."
he opens his arms wide and you look at him with a wrinkle of your forehead
"so don't say you shouldn't like me or i shouldn't like you. just like me freely, like i like you. without inhabitation - and let's see what happens!"
for a minute the world stops and you and jaemin are alone in it
without another thought, you walk right into him, throwing your arms around his waist
for the first time you feel through the contact that he's surprised, but then his arms close in around you
"the scarf was for you by the way." you mumble into the front of his shirt "i hope you like it."
he let's go of you with one hand, the other still securely wrapped around you as he puts the scarf on
"i love it, i'm going to wear it all the time."
"even in the summer?"
"even in the summer."
✧
somehow jaemin doesn't seem to be as aware of the shock that pulsates through your school when you both walk in holding hands
and maybe it's the fact that jaemin is sticking to his word, walking around with your scarf around his neck despite being inside
but you're sure it's actually because na jaemin is dating someone.
and that someone is you
the only people who aren't surprised are the crocheting club
renjun just gives you the, him? well if you're sure look and the two other members speak their first full sentence to you: "you guys look cute together."
jaemin swings by the club a couple of more times with you, but it's mostly just to stare as you work
you don't mind it - but you encourage him to join a club of his own that does things that he's interested in
"but i still want to learn to crochet, you like it and i want to understand it."
you put your hands over his and lean up to peck him right on the lips
"that's nice of you, but i think we can appreciate the things we both like .... even if we don't do them."
"you just don't want me to get you involved in my science stuff right?"
you sheepishly give your answer with a sidelong look away from him
jaemin laughs and presses his lips to your cheek, kissing twice toward the tip of your nose and then spinning you into his arms for one more kiss on the lips
but jaemin, surprisingly, is serious about learning more
so sometimes you sit inbetween jaemin's legs, crocheting and humming to yourself as he rests his chin on your shoulder transfixed at your movements
you explain them and then let him take over, his long arms coming over yours and taking the needles
he's clumsy and it's taking him some time to get used to it
but with practice, you're sure he will get be better
one afternoon as you're sitting together like this - jaemin rests his chin on your shoulder
"want to know when i started liking you?"
you stop your work and enthusiastically nod - you had never asked him, but you definitely always wanted to know
"so, i was taking organic chemistry and we were learning about reactions, addition reactions - adding atoms to unsaturated molecules - talking about the importance of modifying existing organic compounds."
"jaemin - human words"
he laughs, "talking about how adding something to something that already exists and making it something different."
"ok...go on."
"and i thought, what's something new i can add to myself to make myself new? i couldn't think of anything. long story short, i talked to the professor i had about it and he wasn't impressed with it. he said something about how biology might suit me better if i was interested in 'how humans change'."
you look over your shoulder, "so you didn't blow up the lab like everyone says you did?"
"nope, but when i left his office that day i passed by the crocheting club room and i saw you."
you feel jaemin's hands wrap a little more tightly around you
"and i had this feeling in my chest that something in me changed - just by looking at you. turns out that to my luck you were in biology two and after transferring i got to be your lab partner."
he nuzzles his face against your neck and you gently graze your fingers up and down his arm
"each time we worked together, something inside of me was changing. maybe not a cellular level - but i felt new every time and i didn't want to let those feelings go when the semester did so - i found you where i'd seen you first."
you take in every word, but ask - "but, how did you know that change was-" you hesitate but jaemin says the word against your neck
"love?" he lifts his gaze back to yours
"because it was the only definition i could give to the change inside of me. and sitting down with you in crocheting club, walking you to the station, and telling you how i felt - proved my theory."
you look at his eyes - as clear and as truthful as they always are - the beautiful brown a lighter hue in the light
"that there was a new me, a new me that loves you."
when he presses his lips to yours - you want to say it back, you want to fill the entire world with it
SYNOPSIS › After a bland highschool experience, you immediately gravitate to your university’s most outrageous matchmaking club, “The Cupid Club.” Your job was simple: to collect information on your client’s love interest and then pair them together. After two years on your “job,” everything became less horrific and getting couples together almost seemed like a natural occurrence. That is until you’re tasked to collect information on Lee Heeseung, the infamous rugby captain who is coincidently known as the biggest player on campus.
GENRE› college au, angst (I said it was major angst in the preview, but after writing it, I realized that it’s not actually that sad), consultant! reader x rugby captain! Heeseung, heartbreak, crack, fluff
WARNING(S) › swearing, heavy drinking, mentions of sex
WORDCOUNT › 18.4k (I apologize beforehand)
NOTES › This is my entry for @jungwoniics ’ “just out of reach” collab
Love was an unexplained phenomenon that entwined souls together. It was an experience of rather difficult trifles which blossomed into ultimate bliss. To be with someone you found truly admirable and to lead a life with them for as many years as they lasted was society’s idea of a dream come true. Love seemed to be something like a goal to people, while to others, it was rather a burden. To you, it was a lackluster ordeal filled with complications and hurdles — an experience you didn’t want to indulge in.
You hated when September strolled along. Every autumn leaf gracefully leaving the comfort of the branches to experience the harsh winter chills yet again this cycle. It was similar to all the young adults who traveled distances away from the warmth of their homes to lead a rather dreadful college life.
The giddy freshmen were always entertaining to watch. The yearning they all had to start fresh, lead a new life, to grow, and become a part of society.
genre ꒰ঌ cupid au, friends to lovers (sort of), slowburn, fluff, angst
pairings ꒰ঌ angel! donghyuck x angel! reader
word count ꒰ঌ 6.6k
synopsis ꒰ঌ you’ve never thought of love as something possible for yourself, but it only takes lee donghyuck accidentally drinking an aphrodisiac meant for mortals to change things very, very quickly.
warnings ꒰ঌ none
info ꒰ঌ this is a special fic for valentines day!! i hope everyone has a lovely 14th regardless of whether you celebrate or not and i hope that this makes your heart flutter
songs ꒰ঌ angel - chancellor, taeyeon | valentine - laufey | 7pm - bss, peter elias | the perfect pair - beabadoobee | love me 4 me - rina sawayama
You’re tired of love.
Absolutely sick of it, which likely isn’t the best idea when your entire job revolves around matchmaking. There had been a time when the very idea of it made your heart flutter, and the prospect of finding compatible couples made a grin break on your face.
But after close to a century of repeating the same task over and over again, you’re starting to dread the idea of picking up your bow and arrow.
That was purely metaphorical, however, as your old methods had been replaced with more modern ways to accomplish the same task.
Essentially, you had become a heavenly office worker - an absolute nightmare, only made slightly better by the prospect of eventually being released from your job to waste away the rest of your days on whatever you wished.
❧ word count: 3.4k
❧ warnings: cursing, drinking (reader gets a bit tips), vomiting
❧ genre: fluff, angst?, friends to lovers, fake dating at the office holiday party trope, reader is stupid (beloved)
❧ extra info: title taken from merry-go-round (christmas edition) by astro my loves
❧ author’s note: idk what it is about kun and christmas and cheesy hallmark movie premises that gets me going but i hope yall r liking all these lmao
“I’ll do it.” Kun immediately offered.
“Huh?”
“I’ll be your fake boyfriend for the night.”
“I lead a cursed existence,” you declared as soon as Kun picked up, slamming your front door closed behind you.
“Uh, why? What happened now?” Your friend’s voice was concerned.
“Jangwook wants to meet my boyfriend at the office Holiday Party this Friday.” You threw your house keys onto your kitchen table and stalked into your bedroom.
Kun knew exactly who you were talking about, your coworker who had been not-so-subtle in his advances towards you, crossing the line on more than one occasion. “I thought you reported him to HR.”
“Yeah, I did.” You kicked your shoes off and into your closet.
“And he still works there?!”
“Uh-huh,” you scoffed, putting him on speakerphone to start getting changed out of your work clothes. “That’s unfortunately usually how that goes.”
“God, Y/N, I’m sorry.” Kun’s voice was sincere. “You’re looking for another job, right?”
“I just started, do you know how bad it looks on a résumé to only work somewhere for less than six months?”
“I think quitting is pretty justified in these circumstances.”
“Well, I’m not. So now I have to find a fake boyfriend in the next two days or it’s going to get worse.”
“I’ll do it.” He immediately offered.
You stopped in your tracks as you were grabbing your pajamas from your dresser. “Huh?”
“I’ll be your fake boyfriend for the night,” Kun reiterated. “Come on, who else would you have asked? Yangyang?”
“Sicheng, maybe, if he wasn’t too busy.” You referenced another mutual friend of yours.
“He’s working.”
“Oh.”
“Come on, I’ll do it.”
“Alright, thanks, Kun,” you agreed. “I’ll owe you one.”
Two days later, you stopped Kun outside the event venue where the Holiday Party was supposed to be happening. Everything had to be perfect tonight, you two had to be convincing. In order to distract yourself from that idea, you readjusted the neckline of Kun’s turtleneck for a moment and smoothed over the lapels of his suit jacket.
“Okay, there you go,” you smiled at him nervously, then fidgeted with the hem of your outfit. “Do I look okay?”
“You look beautiful,” he assured you, offering his hand out to you. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” you sighed, lacing your fingers with his, ignoring the sparking along your skin where it touched his.
Walking into the party, you immediately wanted to leave. The venue was abuzz with chatter from all your coworkers, and Christmas music blasted from speakers somewhere. You spotted the bar in the far corner, and pulled Kun over there.
“No fucking way am I doing this sober,” you muttered to him, earning a laugh.
“Go for it,” he rubbed your back as the two of you sidled up to the bar. “I’m driving.”
After ordering your drink and Kun’s soda, you turned around to the rest of the party, eyes searching for somebody pleasant you could talk to. You finally spotted one of your work friends and led Kun over to her table.
“Hey, Sookyung,” you greeted her brightly.
“Y/N!” She threw her arms around your neck. Already tipsy. “There you are!”
“Here I am!” You chuckled, hugging her back. “How are you?”
“Great! Great!” She beamed at you as you pulled away, inquisitive eyes finding Kun next to you. “And who’s this?”
“Sookyung, this is my boyfriend, Kun.” You hoped your voice didn’t squeak too much over the word boyfriend. “Kun, this is Sookyung, we work on the same floor.”
“Nice to meet you.” He went to offer his hand for a handshake, but she just squealed and hugged him anyway as well.
He looked over at you in confusion, and you mouthed ‘drunk hugger’ to him. He made an ‘ahh’ sound, gingerly patting her back before she let go of him.
“So I get to finally meet you!” She was beaming at him. “When Y/N would talk about you and talk about her boyfriend, I always thought you were two separate people! And I felt bad for her boyfriend because I sort of thought she had a crush on this Kun guy. But you’re the same person! That makes so much more sense.”
“You’re not driving home, right?” You asked her pointedly, feeling your skin grow hot with embarrassment and needing to divert from that information as soon as possible.
“Nope!” She giggled. “My girlfriend’s here somewhere. She doesn’t drink.”
“Good, good.”
“Speaking of, there she is!” Sookyung took off into the crowd.
“And there she goes,” you shook your head, watching her disappear between other bodies.
You fortunately didn’t have very long alone with Kun to address what she had just said, as another coworker appeared at your table. Unfortunately, it was the exact person you’d hoped to avoid for as long as possible.
“Y/N,” Jangwook set his drink down, already far too close for comfort.
You instinctually backed away from him, right into Kun. Before you could apologize, though, Kun wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you even closer, letting his hand settle on your hip.
He offered his other hand out to your coworker. “Qian Kun, I don’t think we’ve met.”
Jangwook shook his hand, and you could see his face contort with pain for a brief flash before he took his hand back. “Lee Jangwook.”
“Jangwook, this is my boyfriend, Kun,” you made introductions awkwardly. “Kun, Jangwook and I are on the same team at work.”
Your coworker seemed to be sizing Kun up for a moment, appraising him and the hand he still had on you, and Kun met his gaze, unwavering. Before you could attempt to continue the tense small talk, a hand grabbed your elbow, and Sookyung was suddenly at your side again.
“Y/N! The girls are doing shots, come on!”
“Sook, I don’t want to—” You were cut off by her insistently tugging you out of Kun’s grasp.
“I’ll be fine here,” Kun reassured you with a dazzling smile, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead before fully letting you go. “Go have fun.”
“O-Okay,” you replied, your voice higher as you were a bit stunned.
Needing no further prompting, Sookyung yanked you off towards the bar. You let her talk you into doing one shot with her and some other female coworkers of yours. It was your usual after-work drinks crew minus a couple men.
You set the shot glass back down with a heavy thunk on the bartop. “Alright, that’s it for me.”
A chorus of disappointed groans came at that, but you stayed firm on your decision as they all got another round, and you watched them, sipping on your cocktail you’d gotten earlier.
“You and your boyfriend are so cute, Y/N,” another one of your coworkers gushed, squeezing your forearm. “I saw you two walk in and I was just like ‘ugh, I need to find somebody who looks at me like that!’ Where did you get him?”
“Oh, we met in college,” you explained vaguely. “Friend of a friend.”
“Then why have you never brought him before?”
She was talking about the other monthly events that your workplace puts on for the employees and their significant others to socialize. You’d gone stag to the other five.
“He’s busy. He travels for work.”
“What does he do?”
“Structural engineer. So he has to be on-site for a lot of builds and stuff. He just got a promotion last month, though, so he doesn’t have to travel as much anymore.”
“Oh, that’s nice.”
“So when—” Sookyung was cut off by a hiccup. “When is he going to, you know? Pop the question? If you’ve been together since college?”
You felt your skin get hot again, and looked around the room as you tried to come up with an answer. “We haven’t really talked about that. We’re fine where we are, you know?”
“Of course, of course.”
After a little while longer, you excused yourself from the women to find Kun again. He had disappeared from the table you’d been at before, and you peered around the room curiously.
“Looking for someone?” A familiar voice came from beside your ear as an arm wrapped around your shoulders.
“Oh, Kun,” you breathed a sigh of relief, turning around to see his familiar smile. “There you are.”
He rubbed a hand up and down your exposed arm. “You’ve got goosebumps. Are you cold?”
“It’s a bit chilly in here,” you agreed casually, not even noticing due to the alcohol buzzing through your veins and warming you from the inside.
He slipped his suit jacket off, draping it over your shoulders before pulling you close to him again. “Better?”
“Much, thank you.” You pulled it tighter around you. “Are you having a good time?”
“I am now that I’m with you again,” he leaned in to whisper. “That guy was a real asshole.”
“Wow, shocker.” You rolled your eyes.
Kun snickered. “Are you having a good time?”
“Yeah, it’s alright.”
“Just alright?”
You shrugged, leaning back against him. “Guess it’s better now that I’m with you.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Now let’s get you some food.”
Sat down at a table with Kun and a big plate of food, you happily munched away as he kept a casual hand on your thigh, and you tried not to think about his casual hand on your thigh. You were on your second drink already, taking a big gulp every time your eyes happened to stray to Kun’s hand so very casually just on your goddamn thigh.
“So what did you guys talk about?” You finally asked him. “You and the asshole?”
“Oh, you know, what I do for work, education, where we met, how long we’ve been together, that kind of stuff,” Kun shrugged.
You felt your eyes widen immediately. “Do you think he knows?”
“No, baby,” he chuckled, wiping your mouth with a napkin. “He doesn’t know shit.”
“How can you be sure?”
“He felt the need to warn me about the late nights you two do at he office sometimes. He was testing me, like he was going to pull a gotcha on me.”
“We only have to stay that late because he sucks at his job, and as the new person, I’m first on the chopping block for staying late!” You ranted. “And I swear, he does it on purpose just to try to get me alone!”
“Yeah, he tried to make it sound very… scandalous,” Kun shook his head, lip curling with disgust. “I was just really casual and said you make sure to tell me when you stay late so I don’t get worried about you coming home safe. Oh yeah, we live together and we’ve been together since college. That work?”
“Y-Yeah, that’s fine.”
“And I made him promise not to tell you, but—” He had a mischievous grin on his face as he added lowly, “I’m thinking about proposing.”
You almost spit out the bite of food in your mouth as both you and Kun burst into laughter, you slapping his arm with your breathless laughs. He squeezed your leg and rubbed your knee as he half-heartedly tried to shush you.
“Please tell me he looked fucking pissed,” you begged, grabbing his arm.
“He did,” Kun confirmed with a nod.
“Best Christmas present ever, Kun. Thank you.” You wiped at a tear in the corner of your eye, grabbing your drink and finishing it off in one go. “Ahh, I think I want another one, actually.”
“How are you so good at this?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
Kun had loaded a rather tipsy-you back into his car later in the night, and was now taking you back to your apartment.
“What? Driving?” He chuckled. “Been doing it a few years. They gave me a license and everything.”
“No, being my fake boyfriend.” You asked the one thing that had been nagging at the back of your mind the whole time. “You don’t feel weird or anything? Because we’re friends?”
He side-eyed you. “You’re too drunk for this conversation.”
“I’m not drunk!”
“You’re not sober enough for this conversation,” he corrected himself.
“Is it because you like me?”
“Y/N, let’s just focus on getting you home, okay?”
“Because Minji said you looked at me like… you know…”
“And Sookyung said she thought you had a crush on ‘that Kun guy,’” he retorted. “Like I said, let’s save this conversation for when you’re stone cold sober, Y/N.”
“So you don’t like me…” You mumbled dejectedly.
“That’s not what I said.”
You looked out the window, feeling the heavy pout on your face. “But you want me to be sober when you let me down easy so I don’t cry or something.”
“Y/N...” He sighed, looking over at you as he pulled to a stop in front of your apartment. “Oh, jeez, are you crying right now?”
“No…” You sniffed, wiping at a tear.
“Yes, you are, you liar,” Kun said gently.
“Okay, maybe I am.”
“Y/N, I’m not going to let you down easy.”
“You’re going to be mean when you reject me?!” You looked over at him with wide, horrified eyes.
“No, no, what? I’m not going to reject you,” he promised, offering his hand out to you. You cautiously put yours atop it, and he gently squeezed your hand between both of his. “Jeez, Y/N, I’m in love with you. And I wanted you to be sober and not crying when I told you that, but there goes that plan.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’ll even let you in on a secret.” He shifted forward conspiratorially. “Sicheng didn’t have to work tonight, I just couldn’t stand the thought of anybody else being your fake boyfriend.”
You sloppily wiped at your wet cheeks with your free hand, whispering back, “Here’s my secret: I was only going to ask him because I knew you would’ve said yes and I thought you didn’t like me like that, and it would’ve sucked to be your fake girlfriend for one night when I wanted you to be my real boyfriend forever.”
“Forever?” He repeated with a giddy grin on his lips.
“Or something, I don’t know, I’m drunk, Kun, remember?” You pointed to yourself zealously.
“I thought you weren’t drunk? You were very insistent—”
“No, I’m sooo drunk, actually. And sleepy! You should cuddle me to sleep.”
“I’ll sit with you until you fall asleep,” he promised.
“But aren’t we for real dating now?” You tilted your head, pouting again.
“We’re going to have this conversation again when you’re sober, okay? Then we can decide if we’re for real anything.”
“You are mean.”
“The meanest, for sure,” he agreed placidly, giving your hand a final pat before reaching over to turn the car off.
Kun helped you up to your apartment, get everything ready for bed, and stepped out of the bedroom while you changed into your pajamas—you had just enough body coordination left to do that on your own. He made you drink some water and take a few pills before finally letting you crawl into bed. As promised, he sat up at the head of your bed next to you as you curled up under the covers.
“Kun?” You sniffled, looking up at him as he rested a gentle hand on your hair.
“Yes?” He looked down at you tenderly.
“Do you really like me?”
“More than.” He patted your head.
“For how long?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Months, years, who’s to say?”
“Oh. I’m sorry...”
“Why?”
“That I didn’t—” you let out a loud yawn, struggling to keep your eyes open. “That I didn’t see it sooner. I just thought you were a really nice guy.”
“I am. I’m a really nice guy who’s in love with you.”
“I don’t know if really nice people go around saying they’re really nice all the time...”
“You don’t have to apologize for anything, Y/N. I didn’t tell you.”
“I know, but—”
“You should go to sleep, Y/N.”
“But where are you going to sleep?”
“The couch. I’m staying with you until you fall asleep, though. Remember?”
“Okay...” You yawned again. “If you... If you get cold out there, you can come in here, you know?”
“Right. I’ll keep that in mind,” he agreed, humor in his voice.
“Because it gets really cold in my apartment at night, you know? Sometimes… Sometimes I’d imagine you were with me on really cold nights, cuddling me to sleep.”
“Really?” He questioned, intrigued now.
“Or… other stuff…”
He burst into laughter, stroking your forehead. “You definitely should go to sleep, Y/N, before you say stuff that you’ll have to kill me for knowing.”
“Mmm, okay.” You rolled over, finally letting your eyes flutter shut. “Goodnight, Kun.”
You were asleep before you could even hear his response.
When you woke up for the first time, it was still dark out. Your head hurt, and you chugged the rest of the water on your nightstand before grabbing the cup and shuffling out to the kitchen to get more. As promised, Kun was asleep on your couch, features illuminated softly in the moonlight streaming through a gap in the curtains. You refilled your cup of water, chugged it again, refilled it again, and shuffled over to the living room.
Standing over Kun, you pushed on his shoulder gently. He stirred, opening one eye to look up at you in confusion.
“Y/N? Everything okay?” He murmured, his voice thick and foggy with sleep.
“I’m sober,” you deadpanned. “My bed’s cold.”
He blearily scooted over to make room on your tiny couch, pressing himself into the back cushions. You crammed yourself on mostly on top of him, burying your face in his neck as his arms encircled you. Neither of you said another word as you both drifted back off to sleep.
“You’re in love with me?!” You repeated for probably the fourth time that morning, as Kun held your hair back and you clung to the bowl of your toilet.
“I don’t know how else to phrase this to make you believe me,” Kun sighed as you leaned forward to retch again. “You didn’t hallucinate last night in a drunken stupor, I really do have feelings for you, you also said you have feelings for me, I put you to bed alone and went to sleep on the couch by myself, then in the middle of the night you said you were sober and cold and joined me on the couch.”
You wiped your mouth with a wad of toilet paper he handed you, more memories of last night coming back to you. “Did… Did I say anything else?”
“Like…?”
“About it being cold?” You winced.
“Yeah, you warned me that your apartment gets cold.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“And that sometimes when it gets cold you imagine me—”
“Ah! Stop it!” You shoved him away from you as he burst into maniacal laughter. “You’re the worst! You’re mean and I hate you!”
“But what if I told you that I also imagined holding you on cold nights sometimes?” He scooted back over next to you, draping an arm over your shoulders. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear as he added, “Or… other stuff?”
The bile that rose to your throat was completely coincidental, but certainly not a good look as you apparently hurled at the idea. Kun continued dutifully holding your hair and rubbing your back as you puked.
After flushing for the umpteenth time that morning, you turned back to him incredulously. “Seriously?”
“Is there something about me that gives off the vibe that I’d lie about this?” He rebuffed.
“Well, no—” You stopped to spit into the toilet. “But I feel like there’s plenty about me that would be conducive to that hypothesis.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Kun, we’re having this conversation while I puke my brains out, for one.”
“And what about me would make you think I’m that judgmental?” He snorted. “You do remember the night I successfully defended my thesis, right? Because I don’t.”
“You weren’t that bad.”
“And you weren’t that bad last night either,” Kun brushed a piece of hair from your face, his gaze tender as he looked at you. “Nor are you that bad now either. And even if you were— I’d still love you.”
You felt your eyes water, and not from the burning in your esophagus this time. “Okay…”
“Okay?” He confirmed.
“Okay,” you nodded, resting your head on his shoulder.
“Thank god, I feel like I just defended my thesis again,” he joked, kissing the top of your head.
“You’re so mean to me…” You whined, burying your face in his shirt. “I don’t know why I ever thought you were a nice guy.”
“I’m plenty nice,” he retorted. “You’re just too hungover to notice.”
“So are we like… for real dating now?” You mumbled.
“Yeah, probably.”
You let out a choked laugh at that. “Good to know.”
Qian kun love of my life this was so cute. AT THE DINNER WHEN HE GIVES HER HIS JACKET 😭😭😭 AND THEN THEM SLEEPING TOGETHER ON THE COUCH 😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔 literally so cute I’m obsessed
pairing . prince! jake x knight! gn reader (ft. yuna of itzy)
about . 5.4k words, fluff + angst
warnings . i wrote this 2 years ago so brace yourself. there's angst but it has a happy ending! jake is a flirt and yuna is gay (cause why not). this is written in a style that is meant to mimic romantic old-fashioned fantasy but i didn't do a very good job of it 😭 as always, terribly sorry in advance for this monstrosity.
synopsis . you thought coming face-to-face with prince jake would be the end of you, but sadly, getting dubbed by him seemed to be the least of your worries.
note. this was originally a secret santa fic with a different idol, so sorry if there are name mistakes! this is also a repost from my old account if it seems familiar. i also apparently wrote this at 4am so please excuse the mess that this is.
tagging . @stealanity @haerinz
Far, far away, past the weeping willows of the dark forests and the scorching sands of the sunburnt deserts, there laid a small vine opening, covered with twigs and vines, embedded in secrecy. Only those who seek this door could enter, and only those who dared to venture could truly experience the treasure they were meant to seek for.
Here beyond this secret entrance lay the land of Senkō, a land filled with prosperity and enchantment alike. Home to one of the world’s most charming cities, this empire carried an aura of purity that wrapped around and around and encased you tight, never wanting to let go.
And in the center of it lay a prince to match, feasting on the fresh pears from the palace garden and radiating a smile that could rival that of the blazing ball of fire that shone upon him.
“Master Jake! You shouldn’t be eating those pears; those are for the royal family’s bouquet at the end of the month!”
Jake leaned against the tree, eyeing the half-eaten pear in his hands, before glancing at the short maid who had come to warn him against his irresponsible actions.
And then he grinned.
He watched the maid’s cheeks turn bright red, resembling the rubicund apples in the orchard nearby. Nations far and beyond have acknowledged Prince Jake’s dazzling smile and incredibly handsome aura, and he was well aware of it, using it to his advantage to get out of trouble. Being flattering was simply a pastime for him.
“Are you sure I can’t have a few more pears? I’m sure I can… let you have a bite of this one if you wish.”
The maid turned profusely beet red as if she couldn’t have possibly turned into more of a tomato, and with a quick squeal, she scampered back into the castle, leaving behind a laughing Jake and a half-eaten pear.
“Didn’t know you were the designated castle flirt,” a familiar voice remarked, causing Jake’s eyes to shift to the new subject.
“You seem quite observant, Commander Sunghoon. I wonder if you would like a bite too?”
Jake dangled the pear in front of Sunghoon, commander of the royal army and his best friend, only to be met with mock disgust and a silent scoff.
“Quite humorous aren’t you, Prince Jake? Anyhow, I’ve come to ask for your presence at the induction ceremony for our recruits. Can’t have the nation’s brightest soldiers be dulled by the absence of the ever so coquettish prince, can we?”
Jake, biting the last part of the almost-finished pear, met Sunghoon’s glance with a smile. “Well, what are we waiting for? Lead the way.”
You were quite nervous.
Throughout all the rigorous training you’ve endured for the past two years, you’ve never felt so anxious. Wielding a blade and charging headfirst were tasks that came most naturally to you, but social integration and public speaking were far from your line of expertise. A million uncertainties were running through your mind at the very prospect of failure in being dubbed a soldier, and you hoped you wouldn’t end up being the nation’s royal laughingstock.
What if you tripped on stage? What if you accepted the wrong award? What if you—
“Nervous?” you heard a voice murmur next to you, filled with light amusement and tender undertones.
“In your dreams Ni-ki,” you whispered back, not willing to show weakness, although you supposed your best friend knew you better than you knew yourself.
He let out a soft chuckle, well knowing of your dishonesties, and patted your uniform-covered shoulder in a gesture for comfort.
“You’ll be fine Y/N. Besides, everyone tends to get a little weak-hearted while standing next to Prince Jake. If anything goes wrong you can just blame it on him!”
It’s not that simple, you wanted to retort, but you didn’t have the heart to diminish Nishimura’s extra-cheerful attitude today. So, you just dipped your head in respect as a mere thanks, hoping your nerves would settle down and let you breathe.
“Oh, that’s my name! See you on stage Y/N!”
You watched as Ni-ki pranced onto the carpet-covered stage, a smile flitting across your face in pure affection. Eons ago, you both had vowed to become the finest soldiers of the royal guard and here you were today, fulfilling your dreams side by side.
You found your eyes shifting from the now kneeling Nishimura to the man upright in front of him, slender hands repositioning a blade from Ni-ki’s left shoulder to his right, a movement proclaiming your best friend’s newfound royal status.
Prince Jake. The man of everyone’s dreams and desires alike. You wished you weren’t prone to his charms, but alas, everyone has their weaknesses. Jake Sim’s smile just happened to be yours.
Having been lost in your contemplations, you hadn’t realized time was nearing your turn until your wandering eyes noticed Ni-ki making his way off the stage.
“And now, let us welcome the highest-ranking recruit of this division, Y/N!”
It felt like a blur walking onto the platform, clad in combat boots and your royal uniform. Despite the loud clapping and the shrill cheering from your comrades, your eyes were trained on the man adorned in regal blue, a man you supposed you’d need to grow accustomed to.
Your breath hitched as he stepped forward to perform your accolade, and you mentally cursed yourself for having the qualities of a fangirl at this very moment. Ni-ki was right; Prince Jake had the vexatious ability to take anyone’s breath away (not that you were complaining).
“I don’t suppose you need this dubbing,” you heard, the faintest whisper of a melody so familiar yet so unique, “for your skills are far more worthy of recognition than my blade.”
Cheeks burning, you turned akin to a beetroot as you bowed your head in respect, heart thumping at the mere delight of such a wonderful man praising yours truly.
“We mustn’t skip formalities, your royal highness,” you whispered back, kneeling on one leg before him, “because even one as skilled as me would enjoy the honor of your unsheathed steel on my shoulders.”
You sensed the lightest grin pass across his face as he performed the rite of passing, and as he helped you stand back up to shake his calloused palm, he leaned in to make the faintest promise.
“One day, I hope I can have the opportunity to duel with you, the ever-so-skilled Y/N, in a match of fencing. After all, you aren’t quite the only one to receive such honor, hmm?”
True to his word, Jake arranged a duel with you. Rather than just wanting to see your form in action, the fight was arranged for a more subtle aim: Jake’s desire to get to know you. Surprisingly, or rather, unsurprisingly, he admitted that he still remembered every detail of your first encounter. He knew it seemed a little obsessive, but then again, all the male characters in books have been victims of the love-at-first-sight syndrome.
Why exactly he found you so fascinating? He didn’t quite have the answer to that himself. Maybe it was the way your confidence was nowhere to be seen despite your highest-ranking title, or the fact that you were still able to utter out cautions about formalities despite looking like you were to go faint any moment. He couldn’t deny that he found you a little cute (just a little). He’d never had a knight fancy him, especially a high-ranking one, but he wasn’t one to carp. The thought of your duality merely aroused his attention, which is why he was so keen on carrying out this match.
Although, Jake’s plans didn’t exactly schedule themselves as he wanted, because when he arrived at the grass training grounds, uniform poised and blade in tow, he was met with the faces of the rest of your peers, eager eyes ready for action.
“Sunghoon, what is the meaning of this?”
“My apologies Jake, for how would the elders take it if the royal prince wanted an individual match with a recruit?”
“Oh, you know I meant no harm—”
“Obviously, however, other people simply don’t have the pleasure of knowing your royal highness as well as I do. I kindly ask you to adjust to the current circumstances and carry this forward as a teaching lesson, rather than a chance to fancy yourself with a new lover.”
Jake paled at Sunghoon’s words, turning to face him with an impeccable glare.
“Don’t be so surprised Jake; I too am capable of noticing wandering eyes. Whether your thoughts start as mere interest or mad infatuation, please be cautious of your actions. Tis the season to be betrothed, after all.”
With the warnings ringing throughout his ears, Jake stepped up to the platform, meeting your curious eyes. Simultaneously, you both bowed, and Jake was taken aback to the formalities you’d mentioned previously before. Today you looked more at ease, and he couldn’t quite figure out what for. Was it because combat came naturally to you? Or perhaps it was the reconnection of you both? Only time would tell.
Although this was an obligatory battle, seemingly for educational and ritual purposes, Jake could sense that you wouldn’t go easy on him. That wasn’t what worried him. Jake also wasn’t the most skilled in hand-to-hand combat, and he knew what the outcome of this event would be. That wasn’t what worried him either.
What worried him was the realization that he was excited to be with you again. He recalled the past few days, tracing through them to find that his mind had often wandered off to the upcoming battle with you. The thought of getting to know how you carried this particular interest of yours, the thought of meeting your gaze again, the thought of merely perceiving you had plagued his mind until this very moment. He felt like a fool, like a little boy eyeing a certain pastry he had craved through the windowsill. Maybe Sunghoon’s wandering eyes were right; maybe he was smitten with you.
He looked up to see you unsheathing your sword, preparing for the beginning. He mimicked your action, the blade unfamiliar and uncomfortable in his hands, designed to flaunt rather than to function. The both of you poised with your arm outstretched, blades crossing and knees bent.
He could tell by the slight grin on your face that you were well aware of the outcome. He wondered if you knew he visited for entirely different reasons than battle, but judging by your expression he knew the answer was quite evident.
He was so distracted by you that he didn’t even realize the start of the duel. He focused to see that you had knocked the heavy blade of out his hand (doing him a favor, really) and as it soared in the sky, you twirled him around and pulled his back flush against your frame, encompassing him in a body lock. Jake couldn’t care less about what you were doing to him. The mere feeling of you sharing contact with him was enough to make his brain go dizzy. And quite surprisingly, he sensed that you were affected too, due to the evident rising heartbeat against his chest.
As the fight commenced and the audience clapped (blasphemy really, Jake hadn’t carried out a single action the entire time), his attention focused on your figure, which was walking off the platform. He noted your slight trembling hands and your heavy breathing, accompanied by the lack of eye contact he had once received before.
Were you nervous? Embarrassed? Or perhaps, blushing? These thoughts haunted Jake as he returned to his chambers, falling into a restless sleep filled with you, you, and only you.
A couple of weeks later, you had the opportunity to tour the extravagant castle. It was a part of your training, in case the palace ever fell under attack and you were required to defend it, however, most of your comrades took it as an opportunity to finally experience a sliver of royalty that they had never had growing up. As most of you came from poor backgrounds, the diamond chandeliers and velvet carpets seemed daunting and awe-striking, and you swore some of your units had hearts in their eyes as they dragged their fingers along the winding corridors of the palace.
You, however, weren’t quite as interested. The sole purpose for your visit was education and you made sure to concern yourself with only that, disregarding most of the accessories and amenities the palace had to offer. You didn’t really focus on most of the extravagant interior (although that was probably the most vital segment in your training) because you knew it was filled with barely-touched rooms designed to complement and boast. All fortresses were built with the sole impression of looking majestic, and the only part you deemed important for your training were the places in which the royal family frequented.
You were told that Jake enjoyed the palace gardens, so you ventured off to exactly there, mentally mapping out particular landmarks that you help you familiarize layout. You could see exactly why he frequented this location; the white rose bushes and worn stone paths resounded a sense of serenity, and you soon forgot about the actual reason you were here, continuing to inhale every petal and feel every path of grass underneath your sole-covered toes.
Somehow you had found your way to the fountain, sitting on the edge and tracing your palm across the clear water drawing ripples. You had laughed when you first found the location because of the angel sitting atop the basin, reminding you exactly of the man behind the reason you had come here.
Jake. It always seemed to steer back to him. After your duel you simply couldn’t stop your brain from wandering off to his presence, the way he moved, his pretty eyelashes, his kissable li—
“Y/N, are you okay?”
You hadn’t realized you were extremely close to falling into the fountain until Jake’s voice resounded, bringing you out of your quite embarrassing daydream. A flush covered your rosy cheeks as you locked gazes with him and nodded, letting him pull you up to your feet and away from the water.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, gripping your shoulders lightly.
Your brain felt dizzy from the direct contact, and your throat dried up as you attempted to speak.
“Training, walking around memorizing—”
“Calm down Y/N, I understand. Please take a seat love, you must’ve had quite the shock from almost falling into that fountain,” he responded, gesturing to a patch of pasture as he pulled you down next to him.
If your brain wasn’t malfunctioning already, it definitely was now. Love. The word floated through your head like dandelion seeds in rough winds, like a kite gone lost. No one had ever called you such an endearing term before, and despite not knowing Jake’s intentions behind it, you still cherished the four letters he had chosen to label you.
You wondered what Jake would say if he knew the reason you almost fell was the fact that you were daydreaming about him. Or perhaps he already knew? You turned to ask him something of the sort, only to meet his preset gaze on you already.
Maybe it was a part of your imagination, but he stared at you as if you held the universe in your arms. If Jake Sim was the sun, he stared at you as if you were an even brighter star speckled somewhere far, far away from his vicinity, yet so, so close. His stare was so warm, so tender that it made you want to shine more brilliantly to keep that expression within his eyes and his heart and never, never ever let go of it.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” you found yourself asking instead, your tense atmosphere dissipating and shifting into something more fond, more affectionate.
“Like what?” he returned, a slight grin on his face indicating he already knew the answer.
“Like you’re in love with me,” you blurted out, the impact of your words hitting you only after you’d recited them.
His gaze shifted, turning into something rawer and more emotional, almost as if you had crossed an unknown boundary and he didn’t know how to react to it. You could feel regret filling your feelings, and maybe he sensed that too because he changed the topic, effectively shutting down any potential outbursts.
“Come on Y/N, let’s get you back to the castle. Your comrades must be worrying about your absence.”
Since then, it had become quite the regular occasion for you to cross paths with the prince in the palace gardens (willingly or unwillingly, you wouldn’t answer). Sometimes you had Ni-ki in tow (only for him to be cast aside anyway), and sometimes you strolled alone, subconsciously keeping an eye out for the man that had somehow bewitched your heavy heart.
You didn’t know when the line blurred between admiration and romance, but you quite simply didn’t care because the Jake Sim had given you his time in return for conversation. He seemed to be enjoying seeing you, talking to you, breathing with you, sitting with you so close that your shoulders almost touched and you could lean over and kiss him. Out of all the pretty humans, he wanted your time, your affection, your words, and your smiles. And you certainly weren’t complaining.
At times you’d find yourselves talking about anything and everything in the world, and at others, you’d fall into silence, bedridden with comfort. His presence grew consolatory to you, an aphrodisiac you’d simply succumbed to throughout the routine of your lifestyle. His figure often occupied your thoughts before you slept, and you’d wake up to the chirping birdcalls in anticipation of your next meeting. Dreaming, you were, as you floated with your feet in the dappled clouds blessed with the warm sunshine that was Jake’s laughter.
Deep within your mind, buried for a later reflection was the hidden notion of restriction, of not being allowed to fall for the charms of his royal highness. A dangerous tightrope you pranced on, shying towards his flirtatious advances and straying away from the acceptance of your feelings. You knew that one day had to come to terms with reality, but that day was not today, not yesterday, not tomorrow. Soon, you presumed, soon enough to infiltrate your worries but not soon enough for you to distance yourself from your growing affections.
One day, when the night sky was particularly clear and the white stars were particularly bright, Jake asked you a simple question.
“Y/N, what happens when you… you want something you can’t have?”
You turned to your side, meeting the heavy, cautious glance of the human next to you. Jake always seemed very grown up to you, perhaps because of his princely duties, but at this very moment, he resembled a childish boy, as if he had broken a vase behind his mother’s back and tried to hide from his consequences.
You couldn’t tell if you enjoyed his cautious vulnerability, but you did have the slightest inkling of the layers hidden underneath his seemingly simple question.
“Well, it’s human nature, your royal highness. I suppose it—”
“No but, what happens?” he prompted, effectively cutting your words off and leaving you wordless.
“Well,” you started after some consideration, trying to phrase your answer quite sensibly, “well then, it’s simple. You bear the consequences. Because Jake, we all want what we can’t have.”
And the look on his face haunted your dreams for many nights.
The royal banquet was an event many anticipated, Jake very well included. Delicacies from far and wide were served upon gold platters (made with numerous ingredients such as the pears Jake was discovered feasting on), and although it served as a chance for royal delegations with countries much like theirs, the entire palace staff was invited. It was an occasion simply to remember, and Jake being excited was a bit of an understatement.
Jake couldn’t deny that a factor of his enthusiasm was your attendance this year. Despite having many acquaintances, the only person Jake typically interacted with at formal events was Sunghoon, and your presence would be a nice contrast to his usual experience.
(And maybe he’d been waiting for a chance to see you outside of your occasional garden getaways, but he’d never admit to it.)
From the moment Jake arrived at the occasion, his eyes were searching for you. Although he knew training kept you for quite a while, his gaze was always focused on the entrance, hesitantly waiting with a chocolate mousse in hand.
“Sunghoon, when do you suppose the knights will arrive?”
“Your Highness, not to be disrespectful but you’ve asked this question thrice already. They will be here soon, I swear.”
“Sorry Sunghoon,” Jake responded, embarrassed but too bashful to care, “as you can see, I’m quite impatient.”
“It is quite obvious, your Highness. Here, why don’t we preoccupy ourselves with conversation? I’m sure our comrades from far and wide will be expectant to speak a few words with you, hmm? It will take your mind off, ahem, a particular other person.”
Conversation was the plan and Jake followed it, mingling with his guests to distract himself. As a prince, Jake was born and raised to frequent polite manners and converse equivalently, but truth be told, his usual acquaintances were young women seeking a way to his heart (and his money). At normal times he wouldn’t be bothered by such minor inconveniences, but today he just couldn’t seem to return the same flirtatious advances.
Maybe it was due to the certain soldier lingering at the tip of his tongue, the corners of his brain. Jake was extremely lucky that he was graced with a good enough appearance that women seemed to be entranced by because, without it, he most likely would’ve received complaints regarding his obvious disinterest towards people who garnered it.
He was able to flutter around casually until his mother pulled him aside, excitedly urging him to direct his attention to his father’s annual oration. Jake was, simply put, perplexed as to why she was so enthusiastic about a simple speech, but he followed his mother’s orders, anticipation bubbling inside his ever-so-faint heart.
He should’ve protected his heart while he could’ve.
“With proud honor, I would like to announce the betrothal of my son, Jake Sim, to the elegant princess of the Shin kingdom, Princess Yuna!”
The only emotion Jake felt was numbness. Despite Sunghoon shaking his shoulder like a madman and a multitude of cheers resounding around him, the only thing that phased Jake was the distant sound of a plate crashing, igniting an unknown fear hidden deep within his heart.
And as clapping echoed around Jake, he whipped around to see broken shards of glass speckled on the floor, and the love of his life running away with the intention of never seeing him again.
In many novels you had read the phrase ‘the heart grows fonder with distance’, but you never assumed it to be true until you started evading the prince.
It had been approximately three weeks since your last meeting (not that you were counting), and you seemed to be facing insanity. Once a narrative that followed romance novels, your tale now diverged into that of heartbreak and sorrow, betrayed by the person whom you were most bewitched by.
No books in your library explicated how to heal a torn heart, so you confided in the most trustworthy source you knew: Nishimura Riki.
“See Y/N, this is why you should never trust a man.”
“But Ni-ki you—”
“I’m the exception.”
Was your best friend the most suitable option for comfort? Mayhaps not, but he tried to the best of his abilities, and you appreciated his efforts.
Three consecutive knocks startled the both of you and before you could even stand upright, Ni-ki had opened the door, coming face to face with the royal commander. The both of you bowed to your superior, who merely waved the formalities off and requested an audience for a short while.
“Knight Y/N, I request you see the prince immediately as—”
“With all due respect Sir Sunghoon, I have no desire of interacting with his royal highness ever again.”
“Y/N—”
“My decision is final.”
With a dejected expression and a heavy heart, Sunghoon left the building, leaving you with a shattered mind and a dull ache in your chest. Today’s interaction had broken the thin wall you had mentally built to separate you and your lover, and you traveled right back to the beginning as if you had just run away from a shattered glass plate and a wedding announcement.
The only word to describe your predicament was reality. You and Jake had spent weeks floating around in the heavens, soaring through the skies like kites let free. Now your feet were grounded, bound in shackles that hauled behind you, growing heavier and heavier with each teardrop.
You suppose there was a way to free yourself, but it wasn’t a solution that would be found yesterday, today, or tomorrow. Once soaring, you were now drowning, ruined in the faint memories of him, him, and only him.
Days passed with monochromasy, and you buried yourself in work with the hopes of distraction. The gardens were a plate untouched, unseen to your naked eye, and instead, you frequented the confines of your bed, once slumbering with dreams about a certain man now only to slumber with cold rivulets gushing down your cheeks instead.
Hatred filled your once curious heart, seeping deep within chambers once filled with pliant affection. You found yourself obsessively irritated at training, lashing out at your colleagues for the simplest of matters and aggressively sparring during practice. As a knight, you well knew that patience was key, but Jake Sim had ignited your murderous streak and cursed you with eyes of red vision, fury the only lens through which you noticed your surroundings.
But most ironically, you hated that you wished him back. Dusk was spent with tear-stained cloths and torn newsletters, every inch of your being reminding you of who you once were. And you hated that while you were suffering, he was enjoying his new fiancé, frequenting ballrooms and relishing lively conversation.
You wanted him gone (and yet you wanted him close). You really did.
“So, Jake, what’s your favorite color?”
Jake hated everything about this setup. Currently, he was spending time with his bride-to-be (his parents had forced him to for a good relationship), and he wouldn’t be lying if he said this was extremely awkward. There was nothing wrong with Yuna per se; in all the right circumstances, Jake would’ve thought her an ideal bride. However, she wasn’t you. She wasn’t the one that he was in love with, the one that flitted through his dreams every night, the one he spent every day thinking of, the one he was smitten with.
“It’s blue. Yours?”
“Mine too!”
They both fell silent. Silence. Whenever the noise diminished between you and Jake, it felt comfortable. It was nice to cherish and he basked in it. But this silence? This silence was awkward, something he wanted to throw off a jagged cliff and never see again.
“You’re in love with someone, aren’t you?” Yuna suddenly asked, chewing on a piece of asparagus.
“What? Of course not. And even if I was, it wouldn’t matter.”
“Jake, I don’t want to spend an eternity with someone that doesn’t love me.”
His heart softened at her words, and he turned to glance up at her calculating gaze as if he was a mathematics theorem she was meant to prove. And Jake despised math.
“But we can’t—”
“We can Jake. If you will for something so badly, the universe will grant your wish. And I can see your desperation, Jake. You’re in love.”
“Stop. Please. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
They both fell silent again but this time it seemed tense, conniving. After a few moments of shifting the uneaten steak on his plate, Jake spoke up again.
“I apologize. I shouldn’t have been so impolite,”
“No no, the fault is mine. I intruded into decisions that you should be making, and I just heavily influenced you.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, have you ever been in love with someone Yuna? Do you know what it feels like?”
Yuna stopped playing with the food on her plate, freezing at Jake’s words.
“Love is a fragile thing, Jake. Once shattered, no matter how much you try to put the pieces back together, they won’t ever fit the same. I shattered it, Jake. I shattered my love for her because I wasn’t brave enough to back out of this arrangement.”
With caution, Jake outstretched his arm, silently holding Yuna’s as a sign of comfort. Although he couldn’t see her teardrops, he could hear them.
“Please Jake, please don’t make the same mistake as me.”
He looked up at her, teary-eyed and soulless, urging him on.
And then he ran.
He ran and he ran, as far as his legs could take him and even past the point of that, with only one goal in mind. Time felt supersonic, a blur that he seemed to experience only with the presence of you. Your name was all that echoed in his mind. He didn’t know where you were, or how you were doing, but he knew he had to find you. To tell you how much he loved you, how much he wanted you, how much of a fool he was letting you go. He was an idiot. But he was yours.
Your house was the first place he had visited, opening the door to a slightly angry Nishimura who relaxed once realizing the situation. He didn’t know where you were. He tried the training ground, only to see it empty. The garden, and the banquet hall, all empty. He felt like he was losing his mind, a game of cat and mouse making him a madman.
And then it hit him.
He burst open the doors to the stage, seeing you sitting on top, tracing mindless circles into the polished wood. You looked up at his entrance, your eyes filling with rage and angst as you turned to get up and leave the area.
He hated it. Eyes once filled with love and affection towards him now were violent. He loathed that he was the cause of your misery. And he was going to do everything to fix it.
“Y/N! Y/N please, please don’t leave. Just listen to me for five minutes. That’s all I ask.”
You stilled, your backbone facing him. “And why should I?”
“Because, because I made a mistake. I’ll admit it; I knew that day would come. I knew my fate was predetermined and it was my stupid fault for being a coward to not change it. And yes, I made a mistake in falling for you.”
“Is this what you—”
“But I don’t regret it. Not one bit. Because if loving you was a mistake, then I’d make it over and over again for the rest of my life. If loving you was a mistake, then suddenly I adore mistakes, because loving you was the best thing that could ever happen to me.”
He trudged up the platform, facing your tearful eyes.
“You once told me that we all want what we can’t have. I couldn’t have you Y/N. But I wanted you. I still do, so, so badly.”
He kneeled, handing you the sword he’d dubbed you with the first day you two had met.
“I want to be with you Y/N. No matter how hard it is, I want to try. So will you dub me as a knight for your love?”
He couldn’t tell what you were thinking. With tears streaming down your face and his heart pounding out of his chest, he braced himself for the worst, closing his eyes shut.
Only for you to shakily shift the blade from his shoulder to shoulder, dropping down to your knees and hugging him, crying into his shoulder.
“Knights swear an oath to never do the wrong thing, you idiot,” you speak softly, breathily, and he can feel your small smile against his shoulder. “Then I’ll be an idiot. Your idiot.”
This was so sweet omg. The bit where he’s like “I’m gonna duel her so I can see her again” and she just whoops his ass was v fun. And the ENDING!!!! So cute omg
pairing . chanhee x gn! reader (ft. vernon of seventeen)
about . 13.5k words, fluff + angst, e2l fake-dating
warnings . smoking, alcohol, cursing, suggestive (allusions to sex at the end), descriptive food mentions, y/n and chanhee are idiots chanhee lowkey doesn't deserve y/n, the plot kinda doesn't make sense but fuck it we ball ok, pls lmk if i missed things bc i probably did, also i wrote most of this at ungodly hours of the night and this is not proofread take this as your warning
synopsis . after your big break in cinema, the last thing on your mind is a relationship. unfortunately for you, the public has other plans, forcing you together with the journalist who's entire career is dedicated to your downfall.
note . this is my submission for @deoboyznet's secret santa fic exchange! hihi @heemingyu i'm your secret santa!! (i'm so sorry this is like two days late and probably rushed forgive me) i went through like four different plots before settling on this one and writing it in one week 😭 i hope you enjoy!!! also thank you to @juyeonszn for staying up until 6am to beta for me what the fuck. ilysm.
tagging . @invuwrld @gfksn @stealanity
Lately, the only thing that seems to greet you is the buzzing sound of your phone, incessant until silenced by your tired fingers.
You reach over as you stir awake, the action almost second nature to you as your hand catches ahold of the sleek object. You hit random buttons until your desired effect comes into play, answering the phone call and putting it on speaker, and you already know who it is before their voice even drifts through the microphone.
“Y/N! Get your ass up, you’re on the headlines.”
“Again?” you whine, rolling over in bed. “Is it good news or bad news this time?”
The man on the other end laughs, bitterly, and you push yourself off the bed in response. Your manager laughing, especially like that, is nothing amusing, and you rub your eyes as you try to get yourself awake.
“Oh, it’s bad, alright. Open your fucking phone, Y/N.”
You do exactly that, immediately thumbing over to Twitter and seeing your name trending. Afraid of which one of your many stupid decisions has made the headlines today, you press the hashtag, cringing at the first picture.
“Of course, they got pictures of me drunk,” you mutter, scrolling through the list. “Wasn’t this Juyeon’s private party, like months ago? How did these photos leak?”
“It doesn’t matter Y/N,” your manager sighs from the other side, and you feel a twinge of guilt for always putting him through this situation, “you’re an actor. Nothing in your life is private anymore, especially you pole dancing on top of the bar.”
Your facial muscles twitch as you come across the aforementioned picture, seeing yourself busting out dance moves on the marble. You have to hold back a laugh, seeing how something so ridiculously insignificant is dragging your name through the mud right now.
“But Vernon, you have to admit, the pictures are kinda hot.”
He grumbles on the other side before he cuts the call, and you fall into bed giggling, scrolling through other pictures. You have a cigarette in one hand and a tequila glass in the other, and that explains why you remember absolutely nothing about that day.
A text notification appears at the top of your screen, and you swipe down to see none other than Vernon who you were on call with five seconds ago. He’s sent you the link to an article followed by a message.
This is the article that leaked the video. Check out the name.
You click on the link, and your face falls at the name of the website. It falls even more when you see the name of the writer, and you press your fingers to your forehead. You immediately call Vernon again, watching the phone ring twice before he picks up.
“Can we fucking blacklist him, Vernon?” you seethe, gripping your phone tightly.
“I’m afraid not. He’s just a journalist, not a stalker.”
“He might as well be with the way he’s always up to date with my private information.”
You punch your pillow, watching your fist pathetically curl into the bedding. It doesn’t have its intended effect, only reminding you of how weak you are physically and mentally. You don’t get into scandals often, probably because you’re a rare, good person in the horrible field that is Hollywood, but whenever you do, you have one journalist to thank for it.
“I told you, nothing is private in your life anymore.”
Vernon goes off on a tangent about how you should’ve been more careful, how you shouldn’t have drunk your ass off, but you can’t find it within you to care. There was technically nothing wrong with what you did (except for maybe the indecency, but it’s a bar for fuck’s sake), but as a famous actor with a huge fanbase, you understand why your manager is angry. Dancing on top of a counter and smoking should not be the kind of precedent you set for your fans, especially the younger ones, and your actions have a lot more weight to them now that you’re in the public eye.
It’s just stupid because you’re a regular person. At the very least, you deserve to have some privacy regarding decisions you make, especially ones that are so insignificant.
“Vernon,” you interrupt, “it’s okay. My movie is coming out later this week, so I think it’ll die down quickly.”
“I know, but you’re lucky that this was a trivial issue. If you get caught in something truly fucked up, another movie won’t be able to save you.”
“I’ll be more careful. I promise.”
He hangs up, reminding you that you have a screening to attend later today and an interview. Your eyes drift back to the article again, reading the headline.
Hollywood’s favorite celebrity turned dancer.
You shut your eyes, breathing in and out so you don’t lose your composure. The universe is lucky you’re a rational, decent human being because if you weren’t, the writer who’s been practically harassing you would’ve been long eliminated by now.
Choi Chanhee, you read, familiar with the name. The infamous writer that’s always on your tail. It’s as if he dedicates his whole life to ruining you because he’s always the first to write things that make your crown slip. Almost all of your scandals, from particularly stupid ones at the beginning of your career to your most recent one, have been written by him. He’s practically obsessed with you at this point, and you don’t know what it is about you that ticks him off.
You toss your phone to the side, trudging over to the bathroom to get ready. Unlike Chanhee, you don’t have the time or patience to worry about trivial things like gossip pages. Choi Chanhee is just one, minor obstacle in your way. Just someone insignificant.
A long time ago, the flashing lights of cameras would’ve blinded you. Now, as a seasoned actor, you’re quite immune to the brightness that surrounds you when you walk the red carpet. You smile and pose, reveling in the cameras and the interviews that follow, asking for details about your current movie and the process behind the scenes.
You’ve just finished off an interview about the movie’s wardrobe when a black-haired man comes up to you. The lens of his thick glasses shines against the cameras in the background, and you have to look down to avoid the glare from the reflection.
You read his name tag and your face drops. You immediately look up, putting on a forced grin.
“Choi Chanhee. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
He smiles, and the corners of his mouth curl as if he knows of your extensive distaste for him.
“It seems you know who I am already. Let’s get started with the interview then. First question: do you have anything to say regarding your latest scandal at the bar?”
You’re gritting through your teeth as you answer.
“No comment. Next question, please.”
“What are your opinions on the latest controversy surrounding Lee and Co., the production company behind your movie?”
He fires off a few questions, all as controversial as the last, and the only thing that keeps you from slapping him right there and then is your media training that Vernon had drilled into you while in the car.
“He will be there,” Vernon had said, fixing your watch, “don’t give him anything to work with. Just focus on promoting your movie.”
You’ve followed his advice for the solid ten minutes Chanhee has bombarded you, but even your patience is wearing thin. You’re tired of being asked about the same scandals repeatedly from different angles, and you have to admit that even if he’s doing an amazing job as a journalist, it’s not looking good for your conscience.
“Chanhee,” you interrupt, watching him pause in the middle of a question, “do you have any substantial questions about the movie, or are we done here?”
His face contorts as if he had just been thrown tomatoes at, and the devil in your brain beams from his expression. He flips through his notes, flicking through a couple of pages before landing on one that’s up to his liking.
“Okay, one last question then. Who was your favorite person to work with during this movie?”
You pause, mulling over the question. You watch as his eyes traverse his notes, and you wonder what trick he has up his sleeve. You guess that he will probably bring up something about the person who’s name you’ll recite, so you think carefully before answering.
“I don’t have one particular favorite. I love them all,” you answer honestly and safely, with no room for scrutiny.
He nods, shutting off the recorder before packing his bag and giving you a slight bow. The narcissist in your brain revels in how good he looks bowing down to you, but you pay your respects in return.
“Thank you for your time, Y/N.”
You watch as he saunters off, probably off to his crew, and you blink a few times before shifting your attention to the next reporter with an eager smile.
Hours later, you find yourself outside, exchanging the chaos inside for a fresh breath of air. Your director has indulged in an after-party, one you’re grateful for too, but after a couple of glasses of wine and many more hours of talking to fellow celebrities, you need a moment of solitude.
The air outside is crisp and cool, and you find yourself wishing you’d brought your jacket out to accompany you. Your vision is slightly blurry and your stance is wobbly, but you find a bench nearby to take a seat at. You stare at the pond across from you for a while, throwing rocks into the water and watching how far they travel.
A cigarette accompanies you, and the puffs of air you release are visual representations of how relaxed you want to feel. You’ve just released a movie, and you should be thankful, but as an actor, your mind never rests due to the endless possibilities you can ponder over. Moments like these where you find yourself completely alone, with nothing to worry about, are rare, and you try to curb your mind from ruining the moment by overthinking.
However, your moment of peace is interrupted by a loud shutter behind you, and you quickly turn around, afraid of what the paparazzi would say if they caught you like this. A figure disappears around the corner, but as you hear the clacking of their footsteps, you know exactly who it must be.
“Chanhee, I know it’s you.”
Moments pass before he steps out from behind the wall, holding a camera in his hands. The object, in contrast to the suit he wears, is so uncoordinated that you burst into a fit of laughter, over-emotional from the wine you had earlier.
“Why are you laughing?” he asks cautiously, treading the waters.
“I didn’t know you were a photographer too! You’re an all-rounder for sure.”
“Look,” he whispers as if his guilt will excuse his actions, “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay.” You pat the empty space next to you. “Here, sit next to me.”
He takes a seat warily, as if you have a gun in your hands, but relaxes once he sees you dangling your feet. It’s uncharacteristic for him to be sitting next to you, heck, even interacting with you, but you don’t seem to really mind as you throw another rock into the water.
“Why do you hate me?” you ask, staring at him with glossy eyes. “What did I do that was so wrong?”
“Are you drunk?” he asks instead, realizing this isn’t the pristine condition he saw you in a couple of hours ago.
“It doesn’t matter,” you sniffle. “What did I do to make you absolutely despise me?”
Chanhee sighs, staring at the ripples in the pond. He picks up a rock, swinging it as far as he can before it settles to the bottom of the pool. It goes way farther than any of the rocks you’d thrown before, and you pout miserably as you cease your ministrations.
“It’s my job. I get paid for writing about your downfall.”
“But… you don’t have to be so mean about it.”
Chanhee recognizes that he won’t get anywhere with this argument because you’re drunk, so instead, he turns to you, placing his hands on your shoulders so you look at him.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? Here, I won’t even post the pictures that I took today.”
He deletes the pictures from his camera, showing you after it’s done, and you surprise him by throwing your arms around him. You’re too far gone to realize the weight of your actions, but he isn’t, so he tries to gently pry them off his shoulders.
“Thank you,” you whisper after he’s done, slumping across the bench half-asleep, “thank you for being nice. For once.”
He blinks once, twice, before he exhales, turning around on his heel and disappearing into the darkness. Later, when Vernon picks you up from the bench, you tell him that a pretty fairy saved you from disaster. He won’t believe you, but you know it’s true in your heart.
You’re nursing your hangover when you decide to turn on the news. You settle into your comfortable couch, holding a bowl of hangover soup and trying not to succumb to the pain radiating throughout your forehead.
Not often do you watch the news, choosing to opt out because it’s usually annoying and gives you a headache, but Vernon’s somehow using two devices to watch his show on Netflix so you’re forced to resort to this. You think you might die if you don’t distract yourself from the migraine that’s been occupying your senses, so the news will have to suffice.
You flick through the channels, not interested in the politics or the weather, but your fingers pause when a bright pink headline catches your eye. It’s the gossip channel, and this is usually the channel you’re warned to stay far away from, but you can’t help but watch the video playing when the headline specifically features your name.
Y/N caught in a secret relationship, embracing a secret lover by the pond.
Your mood turns sour when the clip features events from last night, ones that are still fuzzy in your brain. You didn’t expect to be reliving this situation, but your heart all but drops when you realize the snippet features you and Chanhee in the frame, hugging each other as if you had indeed been lovers. The worst part is that Chanhee didn’t even reciprocate, but that isn’t featured in the headline, so it truly does look like you two have a thing for each other.
This time around, you call Vernon first instead of the usual.
“Y/N,” he whispers groggily as if you had woken him up, “what happened?”
“Please turn on the fucking news Vernon.”
You hear shuffling from the other side, a few minutes of rustling before you hear the blaring of the TV and a similar sound drifting through his microphone. You get a few minutes of pin-drop silence before all hell breaks loose.
“Who the fuck is that?!” he exclaims, and you hear his feet angrily pacing around. “Was this last night? I thought I told you to be more careful, to look out for your surroundings—”
“Vernon, it’s Chanhee.”
The only thing you hear from Vernon is his angered breaths, and it takes mere seconds before you burst into tears, fed up by this situation and the terrible migraine you still have. You just want to curl up into a ball and never step foot into the universe again, and your resolve only strengthens when the line goes dead. You can’t help the tears that come to bay, rippling through you like a shockwave that never seems to end.
Insistent knocking at your door a few moments later is the only thing that stops the tears from falling, and you quickly wipe them before opening the door. Vernon stands at the other side, his hands in his pockets and eyebags above his cheeks, but his gaze softens when he sees your puffy eyes and you hugging yourself.
He brings you into his embrace, your tears staining his hoodie, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care. Vernon just caresses your back, knowing the only thing you need right now is a gesture of comfort, and you burrow into his chest further. Right here, in the middle of your entryway, Vernon provides you with the best version of reassurance he can offer: a simple, caring hug.
“I was drunk,” you mutter when you’ve calmed down, speaking through the sniffles that escape you, “and we were just talking. You know I get touchy when I’m tipsy.”
“I figured,” he says, unraveling himself from your embrace. “Does the press know it’s him?”
“No, but I expect they’ll find out soon enough.”
You follow him as he takes a seat on the couch, watching the headlines on the TV. The gossip channel has long moved on from your news, but you haven’t, and fear of what will happen to either you or Chanhee is killing you.
“We need to contact him before then,” he voices, grabbing his phone from his pocket. “I think I know someone from his office.”
“Wait, why?” you ask, trying to peer over at his phone, watching him scroll through his contacts. “Wouldn’t it just be best to let the rumors die down?”
“If this was a celebrity, we could’ve done that. But Chanhee is a regular human being, and this could potentially destroy his career.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” you murmur under your breath, watching Vernon deadpan.
“Look, I know you hate him, but he doesn’t deserve to be criticized for something he didn’t even do. Let’s just talk to him and see what he has to say, okay?”
You nod, falling back on the couch. The migraine still bothers you, and you rub your fingers across your forehead to massage it.
Five days ago, you would never have expected to be in this position. To you, Chanhee was just a name on a screen, a faceless figure haunting your dreams. How fitting is it that his very first encounter with you led to your worst nightmare?
You hear Vernon dial his contact, watching the phone ring several times before a line picks up. Vernon speaks gratefully, grabbing the pen and paper that you have lying around on your coffee table as he scribbles down some information.
“We have a meeting,” he says, showing you the piece of paper, “in five hours. Be ready by then.”
Just what exactly have you gotten yourself into?
The bright lights and white walls in the meeting room make it look like a prison cell, and the atmosphere does absolutely nothing to calm your nerves. You’re tapping your foot anxiously, sitting in an unfamiliar space in an unfamiliar building, but Chanhee requested a meeting in his office building, and you have no other choice but to go with it.
You’d be lying if you said you were nonchalant about the whole atmosphere, but you try to keep yourself composed as you wait for him to enter. Vernon sits beside you, going through some papers in his briefcase that only a manager would know about, and his presence is the only thing keeping you grounded right now.
“Just let me do the talking, okay?” he’d said before entering, “The last thing we need is another argument on our hands.”
Even though the comment offended you, you honestly would be better off trusting his judgment. You and Chanhee don’t exactly have the best track record, and if either one of you says something even slightly off, the room would probably explode into insults. You honestly don’t even have the strength anyway to hold up a fight, so you slump into your chair, adjusting your jacket and reeling in your patience.
The doorknob twists and you and Vernon straighten your postures, trying to look presentable for your audience. Chanhee enters, followed by a blonde-haired who you’d assume to be his boss, and you rise so you can shake their hands. Chanhee ignores your attempt at waving a white flag, choosing to shake Vernon’s instead before sitting down at a seat, but his boss smiles and grabs your palm tightly in his.
“Hello, I’m Sangyeon. It’s nice to meet you.”
You exchange pleasantries as you sit down, and once you get over the initial awkwardness, you shut your mouth and wait for Vernon to speak up.
“So, I’m sure you guys have seen the news and are well aware of why we’re here.”
Sangyeon nods, urging him to continue.
“I understand what you might be feeling right now Chanhee,” Vernon follows, catching Chanhee’s gaze, “and we’re extremely sorry for the trouble that this has caused you. However, I have a proposition that might benefit both parties, if you are interested.”
Chanhee’s silence prompts Vernon’s explanation, and you lean in, curious about what he has to say too. Vernon had offhandedly mentioned that he had a deal to make, but you don’t have the slightest clue as to what he’s about to propose.
“I was thinking we play into the rumors. We can say Y/N and Chanhee met at a press conference and hit it off a couple of weeks ago. After we plan a few more appearances, we can stage a public breakup in a few weeks so that everything can go back to normal.”
You blanch, ready to refuse the idea, but Chanhee beats you to it.
“Why would I agree to a relationship with Y/N?”
“Hey,” you start, offended by his implications, “what’s wrong with dating me?”
Chanhee scoffs.
“Don’t even start, Y/N. This is all your fault after all. I didn’t know you liked me that much that you couldn’t keep your hands off me.”
You’re seeing blood red, crazed at the malice behind his words.
“I was tipsy! And how was I supposed to know that someone was stalking us? If anything, it was your fault for deleting those pictures and being nice to me.”
The room erupts into chaos as you throw petty insults at each other, similar to a catfight. It takes Vernon holding you back physically to get you to calm down, but even after you’ve calmed down, you’re still staring daggers at him.
“Look, Chanhee, I understand this is not ideal for either of you given the nature of your jobs. But if you think about it, when the press finds out that it’s you in the picture, how will you be able to resume your writing? Who will take you seriously if you write hate articles about the very person that you were caught with?” Vernon asks, trying to reason with him.
Chanhee falls into silence, and he looks at his manager. His manager offers him a pitiful glance, knowing that Vernon is right.
“You don’t have to be lovey-dovey with each other,” Vernon continues, hoping to ease the terms. “You just have to appear in public for a couple of dates. We can use your old articles to prove that you guys have had romantic tension, so we’ll have background evidence too. When Y/N breaks your heart in a couple of weeks, you’ll have the perfect reason to continue writing hate articles.”
“It’s like enemies to lovers to… enemies, right?” Sangyeon asks, humming after Vernon nods, “I think it’s a good idea Chanhee. You’ll gain a lot more exposure after the whole thing is over too. If we continue going as it is, the press will ruin your career, and I’d have no other choice but to fire you. I think this is the best decision for your future and the company.”
Chanhee sighs, rubbing his temples. As much as you despise him, you can sympathize with the fact that he has a difficult decision looming over his head. The fate of his career rests in your hands, the person he’s dedicated a lifetime to ruining, and you can imagine just how insane his internal conflict might be.
“I’ll do it,” you voice, watching the room’s reactions carefully.
Chanhee’s eyes shoot up at you, clearly not expecting your admission.
“I would hate to be the reason you had to quit something you love. Besides, I’ve been in too many scandals recently anyway; I think a relationship could do my career some good.”
You don’t know if your attempt at a joke resonated with him, but his shoulders relax and he bores his eyes into you. His eyes are sharp and feline-like, but his brown pupils are almost the exact opposite, thoughtful and deep. He’s a little pretty, you realize, when he’s not trying to sabotage your entire career.
You’ve tried to stay level-headed after your argument earlier, as a gesture to Vernon, but you can’t contain your surprise when he nods a few minutes later.
“Okay, I’ll go with your plan. But I want four weeks, not five.”
“Deal,” you say, reaching over with an open palm before Vernon can even say anything.
This time around, Chanhee does reciprocate your gesture, shaking your hand firmly. The white flag flies freely over your heads, and you can only pray that these next four weeks will be over just as quickly as they started.
The news blows up fairly quickly after it’s published, even faster than any of the scandals you’ve been in. After the announcement your companies sent out confirming your relationship, you posted a picture of Chanhee to your Instagram story to show support from your side. Never have you garnered so many notifications in a single day, but you’re not complaining. You suppose your fans have also been waiting for you to get into a serious relationship, seeing that you’ve been single since your acting debut, so the update is received with a mostly positive reaction that you’re thankful for.
However, just the news and a picture alone aren’t going to cut it. Arguably, the hardest part of this whole ordeal is your interactions with Chanhee, making your relationship believable enough so your fans don’t think this is the PR stunt like it really is. Your first order of business is taking Chanhee along on a date tonight to a movie premiere, the first actual public appearance you two will be making.
To say you’re nervous is an understatement. The last time you saw Chanhee, it took Vernon’s presence to stop you from biting his head off. How will you even survive a whole event together, let alone act like a couple?
You tell Chanhee to show up a couple of hours earlier so you can plan out the details, unable to keep your nervousness at bay. You don’t know if Chanhee is as anxious as you, but Vernon always says it’s good to stick to a plan, so calling him over isn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had.
Actually, it might be a little bit bad.
“Wow,” you say, your throat suddenly parched from seeing his clothing, “you clean up nicely.”
Nice is the simplest you could describe his outfit. He’s wearing a black suit, indented polka dots scattered across the black cloth. Paired with a white shirt underneath and matching tie, along with those round glasses that are definitely growing on you, he looks just like another A-list celebrity in the crowd. Maybe even a model if you would care to admit it.
“Thanks,” he mutters, unbuttoning the jacket to strew it across your couch, “it’s kinda hot in here, no?”
You would agree, but your mind is currently occupied with how delicious he looks in just a simple white shirt and a tie. You have half a mind to tell him that he really should quit his job and become a model instead, but you settle for nodding instead.
“It’s probably because of all the facial stuff we did earlier,” your stylist Kevin says, walking over to place clips in your hair, “it’ll calm down in a little bit.”
Chanhee’s eyes widen when Kevin enters, his eyes staring at you in panic and moving over to Kevin before they travel back to you. You laugh, amused with how seriously he’s playing the part.
“He knows,” you reassure him, “most of my close staff know, so you don’t need to worry.”
Chanhee exhales in relief, his head drooping down into his arms. Kevin meets your gaze before quirking an eyebrow, and you shake your head, not wanting to indulge in his teasing.
“Okay,” Chanhee says after he’s calmed down, leaning into the couch, “what’s the plan?”
“Well, since this is our first time in public together, we can keep it simple,” you start, wincing when Kevin tugs on part of your hair a little too hard, “maybe holding hands, walking next to each other, maybe a hug if we’re up for it.”
Chanhee looks disgusted, and you honestly can’t even disagree with him. You’re not exactly happy about jumping straight into skin-to-skin contact with the guy you hate, but this is the bare minimum for a relationship and you intend to follow through.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you sigh. “You do know that we’re going to have to kiss at some point, right? This is probably the tamest we’ll get.”
“Hey, don’t haunt the poor guy,” Kevin says, pulling out a makeup palette. “Just take it slow, okay? It’ll be a while before you get to that stage.”
You disappear into your bedroom to change after Kevin is done with your styling, and Chanhee visibly relaxes once you’re gone. It’s not like he wants to murder you with every fiber of his being, but something about you puts him on edge, and he can’t tell what it is.
“Are you still stressed about the kissing thing, dude?” Kevin asks while packing up his supplies. “Y/N’s just saying that to scare you, so don’t worry. Besides, after you see them in this outfit, you might change your mind.”
Kevin leaves with a wink, and Chanhee is left to scramble for its implications. You can’t possibly look good enough to kiss, right? He’s seen you countless times, and the only time his resolve ever-so-slightly wavered was when he saw you in person about a week ago. That was because you were drunk, though, of course. Not because he was facing you, flesh to flesh, for the first time in his life.
His overthinking ceases though when you step out of your bedroom, and he can’t stop Kevin’s words from floating through his brain.
You’re beauty personified, he thinks, from the tips of your curled hair to the bottom of your glass footwear. The silver-length outfit you adorn is something to die for, heck, you are someone to die for, and Chanhee can’t even breathe because he just imagined you standing next to him and the room is suddenly very, very hot.
“Ready to go?” you ask, adjusting a couple of rings on your fingers.
Chanhee dumbly nods, now realizing why literally everyone is in love with you, and he stands abruptly. He follows you to the front like a puppy dog before you turn around and start giggling. He doesn’t even register you speaking because suddenly, your giggles aren’t annoying and all of your sounds are like songbirds from heaven.
“You forgot your blazer, silly. Here, I’ll get it.”
While you turn back around, walking to the sofa, Chanhee slaps himself. Gently, of course, because he doesn’t want to ruin his face before the red carpet, but just enough to remind himself of his position in this whole scheme. You’re a celebrity, obviously you look good, and he can’t lose his morals just because you look stunning after being dolled up.
You’re a celebrity and he’s a journalist. A journalist who gets paid to antagonize you. Realistically speaking, even just meeting you should have him seeing red. He should not of all things, be pretending to date you, and he definitely should not be reconsidering his life decisions after spending two hours with you.
He just has to get through these four weeks. You’ll be out of sight, out of mind before he even knows it.
“When the cameras start flashing, just look forward. Don’t ever look at them straight in the eye, otherwise, you’ll feel dizzy.”
Chanhee grumbles as you continue rambling, but you can’t find it within you to stop. You’ve never had a public relationship like this, especially with someone who’s not a celebrity, so the desire for perfection is getting to you.
Any small thing could fuck this up and not only ruin Chanhee’s career but yours too. What would the public think if they found out you were lying about a relationship? Heck, you wouldn’t be able to trust your own self after that, let alone the public.
“Y/N, it’ll be okay. It’s just handholding and a hug, right?”
“Yeah, but we need to look like we’re in love,” you huff, your head drooping as you play with your fingers in your lap.
You feel a hand cup the side of your chin, bringing you up to Chanhee’s gaze.
“Look at me,” he starts, thumbing your cheek, “we’ll be fine. Just stare into my eyes like this, and no one will ever doubt us.”
You don’t get to tell him that you might be believing it too with the way you can’t stop gazing at the twinkle in his eyes and the fondness in how they crease. You’ve met many gorgeous celebrities in your life, but not once have you ever felt your heart beat so heavily until this moment.
“We’re here,” Vernon interrupts from the front seat, breaking your intense gaze, “get ready.”
The flashing blinds you as soon as the car door opens, but you’re immune to the glares at this point. Chanhee, however, is not, so your only focus is being by his side until you walk inside the venue. You exit first, waiting until he steps out beside you before interlacing your fingers together and offering him a chaste smile, hoping it’ll calm his nerves.
He grips your hand tighter as you walk, and you both ignore the press shouting from around you. The screams seem extra prevalent today due to his presence, and you hope he isn’t feeling bombarded by the chaos around him. You focus on Chanhee, watching as he stares back at you to ground himself. You walk quickly in unison with him, counting your steps and smiling for the camera as you finally step inside the entryway.
“Are you okay?” you ask after you’re situated, having a few minutes of peace before you’re off to star on the red carpet. “I know that must’ve been a lot.”
“It’s fine. It’s over now. It was chaotic, but it helped to just focus on you.”
A twinge of heat flutters across your cheeks, but you pay no attention to it.
“I’m glad. Don’t worry, we don’t have any more red carpets in our schedule.”
He unlaces his fingers from yours, something you’d completely forgotten about, but you don’t have time to mull over the loss of his warmth before Vernon pushes you to the red carpet to get ready for the pictures. You take deep breaths, reveling in the mere seconds you get before the flashing starts again and you are simply an object for the camera. You pose, striking a big grin for the camera and remembering your media training. This is what you do best, being a celebrity, and suddenly you find comfort in this familiarity after all the turmoil you’ve been through the past couple of days. No Chanhee, no relationship, no headlines, just you and the camera like always.
However, you can’t stop your eyes from wandering when you get a break, watching Chanhee converse with Vernon. You let your daydreams drift, wondering how he would look like posing next to you for the camera, how he would laugh and answer questions about your relationship so giddily, or even how he’d stare into your soul like earlier before, bearing his heart for the taking.
You know that he won’t even meet your gaze after the four weeks are over, but you let yourself indulge in your imagination anyway. You’ve been touch-starved for so long, so it’s only natural that you have these thoughts about affection, right?
You walk back to Chanhee after you’re done, joining him and Vernon as you travel the venue. The place looks spectacular, with intricate chandeliers and a whole buffet of delicacies, and you make it a point in your mind to compliment the mastermind behind this all, Juyeon, when you see him.
Vernon leads you guys over to the food, piling the spring rolls on his plate until you glare at him to stop. Chanhee restrains laughter behind a mouth full of cupcakes, but even you have to agree with Vernon’s eagerness when you take a bite of the macadamia cookies. You’re on your fourth one when Juyeon saunters over to you, his goofy grin ever-so-present on his face.
“Y/N! Long time no see, right? I haven’t talked to you since my party months ago.”
“It’s been too long. I love the venue, by the way. You always outdo yourself.”
“Don’t talk to me about outdoing things. Look at you with your new boyfriend!”
You glance over at Chanhee, who’s busy trying to see how many spring rolls Vernon can fit in his mouth. You grimace, turning back to Juyeon. You know Vernon’s your manager, but sometimes it feels like you have to keep him on a leash instead of the other way around.
“Yeah it’s… a recent development, but I’m happy.”
“I’m surprised you got into a relationship in the first place. After you rejected me, I kinda thought you weren’t looking for love.”
Juyeon clutches his chest in fake agony, and you roll your eyes. Juyeon asked you out years ago when he was the director of your film, and he never fails to bring it up whenever he sees you. You still aren’t looking for love, of course, but your recent news is probably a shock to Juyeon and the many other people you’ve rejected over the years.
“I’m not incapable of love, Juyeon,” you sigh, looking back at Chanhee again, “I just needed to find the right person.”
The word love has never meant anything special to you, but when you look at Chanhee, you feel your heartstrings pull at your chest. Finally having a boyfriend, even if he’s fake, means you have the ability to love and be loved, and maybe you’ve been denying yourself happiness far too long for the wrong reasons.
As you wave Juyeon goodbye, sauntering over to Chanhee, you walk with a change in mindset. The situation you’re stuck in isn’t perfect, but you decide that it’s best to make the most out of it.
“Y/N, watch out!”
Suddenly, your whole world turns upside down, and you brace yourself as you fall backward, watching the twinkling of the chandeliers above you. You shut your eyes as a reflex, expecting the hardness of the wooden floor beneath you, but instead, you feel a strong hand supporting your back. You open your eyes to see Chanhee, but as his orbs bore into yours, all words tie on the tip of your tongue.
This close to him, you can see his faint eyeliner, the slight curve of his nose, and the barely visible mole on his top lips. It feels like the world is spinning still, but as Chanhee breathes, exhaling a soft puff of air, your gaze remains grounded only on him as he cradles you gently.
The sound of a camera startles you both, and Chanhee pulls you up, staring at Vernon. You smooth down your clothing, clearing your throat as you eye the culprit.
“What was that for?” you ask, throat slightly parched by what happened mere seconds ago.
“Whatever practice you guys did together before coming here definitely worked, because this picture definitely looks like you’re in love. I’m gonna leak it to a local magazine, so good job for today’s work.”
Your cheeks burn as he shows you the picture, and your gaze flits over to Chanhee. His expression is indiscernible, and you have the sudden urge to know exactly what’s running through his mind. Was he just as affected as you, or was this just a mere act of kindness?
The rational part of your brain hopes it’s the latter, but the heaviness of your heart might have different aspirations.
Your phone dings as you finish applying the last bits of your mascara, and you pad over to your couch, seeing Chanhee’s text message on the top of your screen.
Be there in five.
It’s been a week since Juyeon’s movie premiere, a week since your heart has practically gone haywire. You’re a celebrity, if anything, you’re the last person to be looking forward to a text, but you found yourself checking Chanhee’s chat every morning and being disappointed when nothing rolled in. Even when Vernon’s picture leaked and the internet blew up over your coupling, his message bar still remained dry and lifeless.
He didn’t have any reason to text you anyway, so you wonder why you always looked forward to one.
You were the one to reach out first, letting him know that you had a date scheduled for Saturday night according to Vernon’s schedule. A meeting once per week was mandatory, just to keep up the image, and today’s plan was a nice, fancy dinner at a restaurant.
Chanhee, like a true gentleman, offered to pick you up instantly after you’d sent him the message, and you let yourself feel elated for five seconds before you texted him the time and place. You don’t know why Chanhee reduces you to a middle school girl longing for her crush, but you suppose it’s just because you haven’t been on a proper date in so long.
You’re dressed in blue satin, a dress you’d had no real reason to wear until today, and you’ve tried your best to clean up without Kevin’s help. You send a quick picture to your stylist as you wait, asking for advice even though you know you always look good, but Kevin just sends you a string of heart emojis in return and tells you that you look perfect.
Three sharp knocks on the door indicate Chanhee’s presence, and you open the door. The words on your throat die down when you realize he’s wearing a similar blue satin to yours, and it only takes one flicker of your eyes to meet his for him to start laughing.
“Are you stalking me or something?” he teases, pulling out a bouquet of fresh flowers.
“What’s this for?” you ask, setting them on the vase inside.
“Vernon told me to. He said you always like getting flowers on a date.”
You haven’t been on a date in years, so you don’t know where Vernon got this information from, but you appreciate the gesture nonetheless. The arrangement of peonies, lilies, and daffodils looks stunning on the countertop, and you post a quick picture to your Instagram story before heading out with Chanhee.
“Do you want the aux?” he asks when you’ve situated yourselves in his car.
The wind blows freely as he drives, the night sky twinkling through Chanhee’s open convertible. The rich red color of his Toyota Solara stands out against the deepness of the blackness around you two, but you can only focus on Chanhee’s side profile and the glittering earrings he’s wearing. Up until this point, you’ve only ever been in spaces you were familiar with. Seeing Chanhee in his own car is a completely different atmosphere for you, and you’re not sure how it makes you feel.
“I’m good. Play whatever you like,” you reply, truly interested to see what type of music he listens to.
Paris in the Rain drifts through the speakers, and you have to fight back a smile at the tune. Of course he would play this song on a night drive, judging by its mellow atmospheric feel, but you’re not mad about it.
“Why did you choose this restaurant?” he continues after the song settles, looking over at you when he pulls to a stop in front of a red light.
You have to recenter your thoughts to answer him, bringing your vision back from how ethereal he looks against the red tones of the stoplight.
“It’s been on my list for a while,” you admit honestly. “It’s also not super high scale, so someone will definitely notice us being there.”
Chanhee nods before quieting down as the red light fades into green. You’ve noticed that Chanhee tends to sit in silence when he’s with you, not interacting as much as he had with Vernon at the premiere. You wonder if he’s just naturally silent and hit it off with Vernon or maybe if he’s just hates you.
“Are you always this quiet?” you voice when he slows down due to traffic, not wanting him to feel alienated by the question.
“Ah, not really,” he says, scratching his head, “I just didn’t know if you were comfortable with me talking since we’re technically just coworkers.”
“Oh,” you voice, not expecting his admission.
You didn’t foresee him being so considerate of your feelings, enough to stop talking completely, and the thought warms your heart. Maybe he’s not such a bad person after all, you think, staring at him expectantly.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have admitted that,” he expresses. “I can go back to sitting in silence.”
“No!” you exclaim, and he looks over at you with slight alarm, “I mean, it’s fine. You talking is fine. You don’t need to restrict yourself from speaking just because we’re in a work setting. I don’t mind you talking.”
His shoulders relax as he steps on the gas, maneuvering through the gaps of the traffic that’s slowly clearing.
“That’s good,” he mutters, flicking on his blinker, “cause otherwise, this would’ve been a very awkward dinner date.”
You fight back a smile as he pulls up to the restaurant, and you don’t even have a chance to open your own door before he’s unlocking it for you. You thank him politely before walking inside, side by side with Chanhee. You follow the receptionist to your table once she gets your section cleared, and you’re offered complimentary chips and salsa as you wait for your food to arrive.
“You said this place was not ‘super high scale’?” Chanhee questions, looking around at the décor.
Okay, so maybe it is a little bit classy. The mediterranean themed restaurant has a cozy interior, and you’re currently sitting on wicker chairs by a huge glass window. The setting feels very exposed, as if you truly are sitting outside with the stars hanging over your heads. Subtle things about the place remind you that it’s elegant, such as the intricate menus and the tons of cutlery that sits next to you, but you hoped that it was something more comfortable for Chanhee to acclimate to.
“Why, is it too much?” you ask, picking up a chip.
“It’s not, but this is definitely fancy in my world.”
You smile, watching Chanhee be starstruck by his surroundings.
“Just because I’m famous now doesn’t mean I always was,” you start, “before I got my big break, my version of fancy was a dine-in restaurant.”
He laughs, relaxing a little.
“I didn’t know we were so similar. I just always assumed you were a nepo baby or something like that.”
“Just because you hate me doesn’t mean I’m privileged. I worked hard to get here, you know.”
Chanhee nods as your waiter brings out your food, and the two of you immediately dig in. The appealing smells make your stomach hungrier than usual, and it takes a good few minutes for you to settle your appetite before you start conversing with Chanhee.
Now that the awkwardness is gone and that you have a simple understanding of each other, talking with him is easy. Putting aside all the hatred that’s spewed up these past few months, you find out that Chanhee is actually an amiable person, someone you could’ve seen yourself being friends with if you two weren’t so different. He shares stories about growing up and his family in exchange for yours, and you have to clutch your stomach in laughter when he slips in a joke that matches your taste exactly.
Being with Chanhee is natural, so much that you wish you had met him under different circumstances. In addition to being a friendly person, he’s also a gentleman, from the way he slips his card under the menu without you noticing (you definitely scolded him for it later) and opens the car door whenever you get in and out. As he walks you up to your apartment, you thank him honestly for tonight, regretting that your time together is already over for the day.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers suddenly when you’re outside your door. “I’ve written so much shit about you without being an honest judge of your character.”
“It’s okay, Chanhee. This is what you do for a living, I get it.”
“No, you deserve an apology. You’re an amazing actor and an even better human being. You didn’t deserve a single word I wrote about you.”
You’re not tipsy this time around, but you pull him into a hug anyway. This time, you actually mean it though, and you try to disregard the loss of warmth when he pulls away after a few moments.
“Thank you for tonight,” you murmur, stepping into your apartment. “See you next week.”
He smiles, and suddenly, the room is filled with sunshine.
“No, thank you. See you soon.”
You woke up the next morning with a text from Chanhee. The texts have not stopped coming in ever since you responded, as if you’ve opened the floodgates of interaction. You wish he’d texted you sooner, because even though he bombards you with everything in the world from funny memes to just crying about his day, you love returning the same energy.
Where are you rn, a text flies in, and you smile when you see who it’s from.
on set. wbu?
Driving to somewhere special!
oooh spill??
I’ll let you know after I get there
You frown, not so pleased with his secrecy. You hate secrets, and so does Chanhee, so why is he indulging in one right now?
You don’t have time to mull over it as your director calls you back over, ready to continue with the shot. Your costar Younghoon stands before you, smiling as his assistant fixes up his hair before clearing his throat.
“Ready for this scene? It’s a lot,” he comments, reading over the script one more time.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, watching for your director’s call.
The line starts rolling a few seconds later, and you immediately straighten your posture, preparing yourself for the scene.
“Hey,” you whisper, “what was so wrong about what I did?”
He laughs bitterly, pointing to the papers on the desk beside him.
“What was so wrong? You ruined my entire career!”
The papers fly around you as he wipes them off the desk in one sweep, and tears well up in your eyes once you look at his angry gaze.
“I’m sorry,” you plead, clutching onto his arm, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen, I swear—”
“You didn’t know?” he asks, although it’s more of a statement, “you’re the editor for the goddamn newspaper! Of course you fucking knew this was going to happen!”
He rips his wrist from your fingers, inching away from you.
“It’s my job to write the news, darling. You have to understand—” you cry, dropping to the ground.
The papers shift around you, and you watch your tears drip onto the headlines.
“We’re done,” he utters, one final phrase before he rips off his ring, throwing it by your feet. “Never speak to me again.”
“And cut!” your director shouts, “good work guys. Take 30.”
Younghoon helps you up from the ground, and you whisper gratitude before brushing off your ankles. The wooden floor was uncomfortable to kneel on, but you’re grateful that it was only for a short period of time.
“Y/N!” you hear from the other end of the room, and you peek over Younghoon’s broad shoulders to see a familiar figure waving.
“Chanhee?” you gasp, walking over to him once he register his voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Surprise?” he replies, giving you the bouqet of flowers he was holding. “I wanted to be a good boyfriend and surprise you on set.”
“Thank you,” you reply, grabbing the flowers from his hands before leaning in closer, “did Vernon put you up to this?”
“Um…” he starts, scratching the back of his head, “yeah, definitely. It’s the middle of the week, so why else would I be here?”
You roll your eyes, leaning back before you reach for his arm, squeezing it tightly.
“Thank you, regardless. No one’s ever visited me on set before like this. Even Vernon.”
“Really?” he asks, sounding surprised, “I thought you would have a lot of people around you like that.”
“I have acquaintances, but they’re all busy too. The most someone’s ever done for me is send me a food truck, and that was from my own mother.”
“Well, I’ll be here from now on, then.”
You feel a pang in your chest, and Chanhee must notice the shift in the atmosphere too because he clears his throat. You both know that this arrangement is already halfway over, so why do Chanhee’s words feel so comfortable, as if you both were in a regular relationship from the very beginning?
“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that—”
“Y/N? Is this the boyfriend?” Younghoon interrupts, walking up from behind with an outstretched arm. “Hey, I’m Younghoon, the costar. Nice to meet you, man.”
Chanhee smiles, plastering a smile to cover his previous frown before taking Younghoon’s hand in his, shaking it firmly.
“Nice to meet you too. Y/N’s been telling me about you, so it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”
Younghoon laughs, removing his hand from Chanhee’s grip.
“Yeah, it’s surreal working on this movie. It’s kinda funny how Chanhee’s a journalist because Y/N plays one in this movie too.”
Chanhee turns to you, surprised by this new piece of information. You’ve been pretty lowkey about the role, not wanting to tell anyone until the movie wrapped up filming, but Younghoon seems to trust Chanhee with the information because he’s your boyfriend.
“Really? I didn’t know.”
You nod in confirmation, grinning slightly.
“Yeah, we just finished up a heavy argument scene before you arrived. Wanna see the set?”
You and Younghoon parade Chanhee around, introducing him to other actors and cast on the set working diligently. Chanhee is in awe, starstruck by the unfamiliar environment and you can’t really blame him. The movie industry in and of itself is a dream, and witnessing it for the first time is probably exhilarating for him.
After your break wraps up, you lead Chanhee out, standing by the front of the garage. He still has stars in his eyes, and you have to nudge his shoulder twice before he pays attention to you.
“Sorry, I just… I wanted to be a director once, so seeing this all is kind of a dream come true.”
Your eyes widen. Whatever you were expecting to come out of his mouth was not even close to what he just said, and you’re still processing his words when you voice your confusion.
“Yeah, that’s how I learned writing and photography. I used to write screenplays and direct them, but I never made it big like I wanted to. Luckily, Sangyeon took me in when I was struggling, and that’s the only reason I have a job today.”
Suddenly, you know nothing about Chanhee. If events had played out a little differently, Chanhee could be standing right in front of you, not as a fake boyfriend but as a director. You wouldn’t be from two separate worlds anymore, and the thought is killing you.
“Do you still direct?” you ask uncertainly, unsure of what to even say after his confession.
“Nah, not anymore. I help my friends out with short films sometimes, but that’s about it.”
“If you ever want to get back into directing, I can help you out.”
Chanhee looks like his breath has been stolen away, staring at you dumbly.
“I don’t know if I can give you a position directly, but I can definitely link you up with fellow directors of mine and see if there are any film festivals looking for submissions.”
“Thank you,” he mutters hoarsely, “I don’t have an answer for you right now, but what you just said means the world to me.”
Chanhee does the unexpected, wrapping you in a hug this time around. It’s meaningful and tender, and he burrows himself into you as he clutches your shoulders tightly, never wanting to let go. The same shoulders that he once tried to pry your hands off are now encircling you, and you smile against his cheek.
“It’s no problem,” you voice honestly, pulling back to look at him. “I’m always here for you, just remember that.”
You told him the last date would be a little different, but seriously, Chanhee was not expecting a van.
You wave from the front seat, putting aside your phone as he scrambles into the front seat. Chanhee quirks an eyebrow at you, urging you to spill, and you take in a deep breath as you struggle to get the words out.
“So… um, you know how celebrity couples usually have pictures of them making out in their cars, right?”
Chanhee stares at you incredulously, and you grimace, biting your lip.
“I know it sounds bad, but it was Vernon’s idea, I promise! We just need to kiss a couple of times for the pictures, that’s it. It can’t be too bad, right?”
“Y/N,” Chanhee sighs, massaging his temples, “are you crazy? We haven’t even kissed once before this.”
“Well, now is a good time to start, right?” you ask sheepishly, “Look, Vernon paid some guys to photograph us, so they’ll be here any time now. Let’s just get this over with.”
Before he can even blink, you clamber over into his lap, resting your legs on either side of his and holding onto his shoulders. Chanhee gulps, too loudly for the silence that settles between you two, and he’s close enough to you that he can feel your heartbeat thumping wildly.
Good to know that you’re just as affected as him too.
You guide his arms around your waist, securing them tightly before looking back up at Chanhee. The last time he’s ever seen you this close is from when he saved you from falling, and somewhere in the depths of his heart, he admits to himself how much he actually missed it. The fluttering of your lashes, the indents of your mouth, and the sliver of your jawline are all something he wants to commit to memory, to burn into his mind before he loses you.
Chanhee would write a whole article just about your lips if he had to.
“Ready?” you ask, so close that he can feel your breath on his.
He nods, and before he can even lick his lips, you lean in, meeting him halfway with yours.
Chanhee feels like he’s in oblivion, completely succumbing to the darkness that you’ve slowly been feeding him with. You’re like poison, and as he slots his lips against yours, he can’t get enough. You’re killing him with the way you pull him in closer, imperceptibly close as if you two aren’t practically molded together already, and as Chanhee uses one of his arms to tilt your neck, you reciprocate with just as much fervor.
You pull back, catching your breath and your chest heaving, but it takes Chanhee only one glance at your swollen lips before pulling you back in again. He’s addicted to the way your tongue swipes across his entrance, the way you shiver as he gently tugs your bottom lip between your lips, and the way you clutch onto his hair as the two of you exchange life through your kisses.
“Just a couple, baby?” he whispers, pecking down the side of your face, “I can give you a lot more than that.”
He tugs your sleeve down as you whine, tilting your head to give him better access to the area. He nips and sucks at your collarbone, biting hard enough to bruise in spots that you’ll probably scold him for later. He wants them to be deep enough, red enough that you won’t even be able to cover them so the whole world will know you’re his, and he knows it’s well worth it with the way you groan as he keeps going.
“I wish could stay like this forever,” you gasp, preening away when he nips behind your earlobe. “I never want to let you go. My boyfriend. Mine. Forever.”
He hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to your neck before he stops. You whimper, angry at him for pausing his ministrations, but as he processes your words, the hazy fog he was in moments prior fades away, and all that is left is the consequences of his actions.
“What’s wrong?” you ask when you realize he’s stopped completely.
Chanhee is shaking from underneath you, glassy-eyed, and his fingers tremble as he removes them from your body.
“Boyfriend,” he dumbly repeats, and you nod before realizing the mistake you made.
“Chanhee, I—”
“Get off me. Please.”
You stare at him incredulously, and when he doesn’t make any move to take back his words, you climb off him and into the seat next to you.
“This is all fake. Why do I keep forgetting that?”
He laughs bitterly, watching as your face morphs into a frown. How could he be so careless, to lose himself in you when this is all clearly just an act?
“Chanhee, I know this was planned, but the way I kissed you was definitely not fake.”
You sound hurt, and if he was in a better headspace, he would be calmer with his words, but the weight of what just happened is sinking down on him hard. Suddenly, he needs to leave, to never see you again and to not spend any more time in this stupid, suffocating van. He opens the door, climbing out before shutting it behind him firmly, breathing in heavily as he staggers away from the vehicle.
“Chanhee,” you cry, running up behind him and grabbing onto his wrist, “you don’t understand!”
“Then help me understand!”
“I like you,” you whisper, and suddenly, his whole world shatters.
“Of course you like me,” he laughs, running a hand over his face. “Do you not realize that you have an insane amount of privilege to be saying that? I can’t even like you in return because my career hinges on hating you! Don’t you get it, Y/N?”
You’re full on sobbing now, observing as he wrenches your hand away from his. Your fingers fall limply to your side and all you can do is watch as he walks away, shaking his head.
“Don’t contact me. I never want to see you again. Fuck you, for real, for playing with my feelings.”
You can only stare as the love of your life walks away, leaving your universe in shambles.
Unfortunately, just because you encountered the worst breakup of your life does not mean the world stops moving.
You’re at another after party, one that you’d been looking forward to for months because it would finally mean you’d get to catch up with some of your old costars. However, after the chaos that had befallen you earlier this week, going to some stupid nightclub was the last thing on your mind.
Really, you’re only here because Vernon is sick and tired of you wallowing in your misery. He thinks that you’ll be getting a change of scenery by being here, but the only thing you’ve been getting is shots filled with the strongest alcohol the bar can offer. Your one goal is to successfully forget about the black-haired man that ruined your life, and your plan is effective until the bartender stops you from getting another round and tells you to get some fresh air.
You grumble as you stumble out of the bar, finding a home on the gray sidewalk in front of it. Your sequined outfit digs into your skin as you sit down, but in your drunken stupor, you can’t find it within yourself to care. You’re lucky enough that this is a nicer venue, because there’s no one around to bother you to find another spot. It’s just you and your thoughts, and you can’t tell if that’s more dangerous or not.
Your first order of business is to pull out your phone, scrolling through your recent contacts. You have half a mind to call Vernon, to curse him out from condemning you to the hell that is this place, but instead your finger hovers over a familiar contact.
You are so going to hate yourself when you wake up.
The line rings, once, twice, thrice, and just as you’re about to cut the call, a voice answers from the other side.
“Y/N, it’s three in the morning. I thought I told you not to contact me,” Chanhee whispers groggily.
“Well too bad! You’re the one that said all that shit to me and left, so how unfair is it that I don’t get my turn?”
The line goes silent before Chanhee scoffs, and you can hear the bedsheets rustle around him as he gets up.
“Are you drunk?”
“Doesn’t matter,” you answer, giggling from how similar this is to when you first met him.
“Where are you right now?”
“Outside a nightclub,” you sing, holding your phone out behind you so he can hear the EDM music from inside a little better.
“Send me your location.”
“Nope! I don’t owe you anything, you piece of shit!”
“Y/N, wait—”
You cut the call, laughing as Chanhee’s name disappears on your screen. He calls again, neverendingly, but you never once pick up, feeling glee from how he’s the one chasing after you now.
You play Candy Crush on your phone until a car screeches beside you, and you scoff as you recognize the familiar red Toyota Solara pulls up beside you. You’ve sobered up by now, but you still hate him just as much.
“Hell no,” you whisper, getting up as Chanhee steps out. You try to run, but the highness of your shoes make it hard for you to run properly, and you stumble as attempt to escape.
“Y/N, look, I’m just going to drop you off at home, okay?”
You stop in your tracks, turning around to see Chanhee behind you with his hands stuffed in his hoodie. You note the eyebags on his face and his chapped lips before speaking to him with a softer tone, grateful that even if he despised you, he didn’t make an attempt to grab onto your wrist and coerce you into something you didn’t want.
“How do I know you won’t kidnap me?” you ask, folding your arms over one another.
“I asked Vernon for your location. If you go missing, he’ll know it was my fault.”
You grumble, staring at him angrily before walking towards his car. He opens the door for you, but you stick your tongue out at him and find a spot in the backseat instead.
The ride is silent, but you feel him watching you through the rearview mirror as he drives. Usually, you don’t mind his silence, but now the stillness is bleak and uncomfortable, just like his presence near you.
“Why did you call me?” he asks, and it takes you a moment to register it because of how intensely you’d been ignoring him.
“I wanted to cuss you out.”
“Okay, so cuss me out then.”
You sigh, rubbing your temple.
“You know what your problem is, Chanhee? You’re self-centered. You think everything is about yourself, even down to our breakup. Who are you to even say things about my privilege when you know damn well how hard I worked to get here? Do you think I’m unaware how my feelings will affect your career? Hell, Chanhee, I literally told you I could help you find another job! I did so much for you to protect you, to support you, all for you to throw it away because you’re scared of the stupid future.”
“Y/N, I—”
“Let me finish. I love you for who you are. Even if we were destined to be opposites, I still found a way to fall in love with you. I was able to love you despite all that you have written about me in the past, so why can’t you love me for the person I am today?”
He pulls up to the front of your apartment, and you clamber out, not wanting to see his face anymore. The rain falls heavily as you step into the lobby, and Chanhee follows suit, shrugging the droplets off his jacket.
“Let me follow you up,” he asks.
You shake your head, but he trails you into the elevator anyway, watching as you press the button for your floor. He opens his mouth to speak, but you’re not in the mood, putting up a palm in front of him.
“Save it. I said what I needed to say. I might be drunk but my words are true. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say in return.”
Despite your words, you let him into your apartment anyway, throwing a towel at him so he can dry off. He pats his hair dry, wiping his glasses against the fabric, and suddenly you’re reminded of how devilishly handsome he is. You shake your thoughts off, chalking it down to good taste in men before wiping down your neck.
The thunder booms outside, startling you as your towel falls to the ground. When you pick it up, Chanhee stares at you, an indiscernible expression on his face.
“Thanks for the towel. I better get going.”
He spins on his heel to leave as the storm crackles, and against your better judgement, you call out for him to stop.
“It’s storming outside. You can’t drive in this weather.”
“What are you suggesting?” he asks, turning back around to meet your gaze.
“You can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Chanhee laughs, as if your idea is so atrocious he can’t even fathom it.
“You’re funny. I’ll just drive home, don’t worry.”
“Chanhee, I’m being serious. I don’t want you to die, for god’s sake.”
Maybe he registered the concern in your voice because he exhales, contemplating in his head if this is a good idea or not. The loud thunderclap outside has him reconsidering, and soon enough, he shakes his head in agreement.
“Alright, but you have to sleep on the bed. I’ll take the couch.”
“Chanhee, I’m not fucking arguing with you. You know what? We can both take the bed if it makes you happy. A pillow between us should work.”
Before Chanhee can even respond, you’re walking into the bedroom, flicking on the light. You grab your pajamas from the closet and change in your bathroom, slipping into the sheets quickly once you’re done. Chanhee follows suit, taking the right side of the bed and placing a pillow between you two for added measure.
“Thank you,” he whispers after a few moments of silence. “I’ll be gone in the morning before you know it.”
“No need,” you grumble, shoving your face into the pillows, “just don’t roll over to my side, okay?”
He hums in agreement, and he watches as your eyes flutter shut.
“Good night, Y/N.”
You’re far too asleep to even respond.
You wake up to the sound of your head pounding in your ears. You grumble, shifting around before you open your eyes, expecting to see empty sheets, but instead you see a man with a very familiar face.
You as the events of last night rush back to you, and you hold yourself back from groaning as you recollect your thoughts. You should’ve just let him leave when he wanted to, but you didn’t, and now you have to deal with his beautiful bare face and his deep morning voice as if you haven’t fallen enough for him already.
You don’t register his eyes fluttering awake until he pokes your side. You shake, startled by his actions, and he tries to hold back a smile.
“Good morning. Sorry I overslept.”
“It’s okay. I won’t be nice enough to let you stay for breakfast though.”
“Wait,” he whispers, clutching onto your arm as you attempt to get out of the bed, “can I say something?”
You nod, and his arms falls back on the bed as he sits up, clearing his throat.
“You were right. I was selfish, and the words I said that day were extremely uncalled for. They were useless too, because if I had just expressed my feelings to you, we wouldn’t have needed to have this conversation now.”
You cock your head, confused at what he’s trying to imply. He takes in a deep breath, as if he’s preparing himself to say something.
“I love you. I love you so fucking much that it hurts to breathe when I think of you. I love you so much that I’m willing to quit my career just to be by your side. I was scared then of ending up on the streets like I did in the past, but I was stupid enough to not trust your words when you said you would help me. I didn’t even like that job anyway, so I was an idiot for trying to fight for something I would eventually end up leaving myself.”
“Chanhee, you’re not—”
“No, I am stupid. And selfish. And self-centered. But I am also just Choi Chanhee, the Choi Chanhee who is irrevocably and utterly in love with you, and even though I can imagine a future where I won’t be working for Sangyeon, I cannot imagine a future without you by my side. I know you deserve better, but I’m begging you to just give me one chance to rectify my mistakes. We can take it slow and not rush things like we did in our four weeks. We can go on silly restaurant dates and I’ll practice getting used to the lights at red carpets. I’ll visit you on set every day with flowers and I’ll rent out five billion vans for us to make out in. I’ll do all this and even more because you deserve it, and because I love you. Will you please let me have one chance to make this fake relationship into a real one?”
You’re kissing him before he can even respond, letting him press you against the bed. He kisses you like he’s been starved, inhaling you and memorizing every inch of your presence as if you’ll let go of him again. Like before, you’re not restricted by the millions of voices against you and Chanhee, and as he lets himself go, you follow suit, dragging him down under until you’re writhing against him, begging for more.
“I love you,” he whispers when he kisses down your collarbone, “I love you,” he whispers when your clothes join the ground, “I love you,” he whispers when you shake against his fingers and mouth.
“I love you,” he whispers one last time, cradling you gently as he becomes one with you. “I’ll never let you go. Never again.”
As you lay against him, bare skin to bare skin, you trace the tips of his hair as you smile. You don’t know what the future holds for you two, but there’s one thing you’re certain of as you press another kiss to his mouth.
"I love you. Even if the world caves in, it’ll be you that I lie with. Endlessly, until my last dying breath.”
This time around, you take things slow, not restricted anymore any more by four weeks, four months, not even four years. You have the entirety of your lifetime to spend with him, and you intend on using every single bit of it.
First, however, you let him make it up to you. Just because you bared your soul to him, figuratively and literally, after his apology doesn't mean you've completely forgiven him.
Chanhee doesn't disappoint though, reminding you every single day why he deserved the second chance you gave him. Once upon a time, he called you privileged, and that's exactly what you are now for having such a sweet boyfriend. One that doesn't leave the vase on your countertop empty by gifting you fresh flowers, one that always opens the door for you when he takes you on apology dates, one that sits with you in silence when you want to and one that chatters just as much as you do when you can't shut your mouth.
He visits you on set when he can despite his busy schedule as an assistant director. Surprisingly, you played no part in this, just the source of his determination when he finally decided to give the movie industry a chance again and bagged a job with none other than your close friend Juyeon. He surprises you for late-night drives and lets you have the aux even without you asking for it. He accompanies you to movie premieres despite hating the cameras and if you ever get asked questions that you don't particularly like, he'll glare at the reporters until they shoo away.
And god, the kisses. If the world counted kisses as an apology, Chanhee would be the CEO. Every slot of his lips against yours is like an unwritten confession from him to you, and every purse of his lips is a ballad from the depths of his heart. He kisses you for trivial things, like when you finally get that one specific line right as you're practicing for a script or when he's pecking you against the makeup trailer walls as he wishes you a successful day at work. He kisses you in the earliest of mornings, murmuring sweetness with his tongue against your hot skin, and he kisses you in the depths of the night, trailing his fingers down as you gasp against his mouth and exchange breaths through each swipe of his tongue.
Even after you do end up accepting his apology, he doesn't stop showering you with the affection you deserve. On nights you're feeling particularly insecure, Chanhee beats himself up and vows to never make you feel those emotions again, waking up the next morning to prove exactly why you're worth it. He takes care of you gently, the gentlest lover you've ever seen. He's the personification of a comfortable morning, the desire to stay in bed despite all the things you have going on. You never want to leave, forgetting all reason and staying in his embrace forever.
You're by his side when his first cinema blows up, when his first screenplay wins an award, when he gets his first nomination for directing, and today when he's on stage with an Academy Award in his hand and a smile you'll remember for ages.
You watch the twinkling in his eyes when he thanks his cast and crew, holding onto his assistant director tightly as he expresses his gratitude. What takes your breath away, however, is when he turns to you in the audience and whispers a confession that you'll never forget in your lifetime.
"And lastly, thank you, you know who you are, for being the best I could ever imagine. I will never regret the moment by the pond where you hugged me, the one that changed the trajectory of our lives forever. If anything, you deserve this award more than me. I love you, my Y/N."
You smile as the audience erupts in cheers, but as his assistant director hugs him on stage, his eyes only bore into yours.
"I love you too," you mouth back, watching as he grins when he recognizes your words.
I don’t usually read chanhee fics but I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers. This was genuinely so cute I loved the bit where he visited her on set I felt like that was so sweet and wholesome.
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: ex’s rival!Changmin x afab!reader
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Summary: After spotting your ex at a party, all you wanted to do was forget about him. And thank god Changmin is there to help you do just that.
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 2.7K
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), acquaintances to lovers, oral (f! receiving), face sitting / face riding, cum eating, dry humping, groping, panty sniffing, mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of male masturbation, mentions of cheating (but not reader or Changmin), use of weed (smoking and shotgunning), cumming in pants, pet names (sweetheart, good girl), cocky Changmin (but a hot one), reader is sad and Changmin is here to make it all better 😘
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: Belated happy birthday to our best boy kyu! Had the idea in mind before his bday but my brain decided to shut off so I'm happy that I got the chance to finally write this out! Proofread two times (loosely). Not me thinking about Kevin saying "Forget about it" 😭 anyway! Enjoy 💕
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network & Tag: @deoboyznet
Out of all the things that could’ve ruined your night, it just had to be spotting your ex and the girl you caught him cheating with enter the party.
‘What the hell are they doing here?’ You thought to yourself as you nearly crushed the red plastic cup in your hands leaning against the wall. You didn’t even notice ten minutes had passed just mentally throwing daggers at them from across the room.
It had been just nearly six months since the breakup, a decent amount of time for you to move on from the heartbreak. But all you could feel was the deep ache in your chest as you watched them hold hands from afar, looking at each other like two fools in love. The look he never gave you.
And suddenly, all the bad memories from that time started flashing in your mind. Especially the day of the breakup when you had discovered the pair having sex in his room when you dropped by unannounced to surprise him. You wince at memory of their shared moans being heard from behind the door.
You always knew there was something fishy about their “friendship”. You were just too in denial to think otherwise.
You were starting to feel dizzy, mainly for drinking a little too much tonight but also just seeing them together and happy. So you decide to run upstairs to the guest bathroom, lock the door, and twist the faucet to splash cool water on your face and nape. You breathe slowly and deeply as you lean against the bathroom counter.
“A knock would’ve been nice.” The voice echoing behind startles you, making your body jolt as you let out a light gasp.
As soon as you look through the mirror in front you, you see Changmin’s fully clothed figure lying inside the bathtub, deeply inhaling a blunt before letting out the smoke from his mouth up in the air.
“S-sorry…” You reply as you turn around to meet his gaze.
You knew Changmin. Had the same friends as you, usually at the same events too. You’ve talked here and there long ago, that is until you started dating your ex and he was always insistent on reminding you to stay away from him.
You never understood why, but of course you did anything to keep your ex happy by listening to whatever he told you to do.
There’s an awkward pause between you too as his eyes scan you from head to toe, noticing your disheveled appearance and heavy aura.
“Need some help there? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” You shake your head as you try to compose yourself.
“If you say so.” He shrugs before taking another puff, tilting his head up to the ceiling to exhale. Your breath hitches with the way he looks as the cloud of smoke slowly escapes his lips, making smoking appear attractive to you for a moment.
“I too would be pissed as fuck seeing my cheating ex in a party.” Changmin utters out as he stares at the ceiling.
Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “How did you-”
“You look like you wanted to strangle them from across the room.” He smirks.
“Oh… you saw that?” You feel your cheeks growing warm from feeling embarrassed. He nods at you in response.
“Want a puff? You look like you could use it.” He reaches his hand out with the blunt between his fingers.
“Oh uh. I don’t know how-” You look down as you try to hide your embarrassment from him.
“Hmm… If that’s the case then c’mere.” He motions you with his other hand.
Changmin adjusts himself to sit upright as you walk over to kneel beside him.
“Okay, I’m gonna take a puff then blow the smoke into your mouth. Cool?” He looks into your eyes as he takes the end of the blunt between his lips and starts inhaling slowly.
“Y-yeah. Sure.” You stutter as you nearly squirm in your spot. The thought of his face being close to yours making you feel all shy suddenly.
Changmin leans over the bathtub, his hand gently holding your cheeks together with one hand to slowly open your jaw. He leans closer to your face, keeping eye contact with you as he blows the smoke inside your mouth.
You try hold back the small whimper forming in your throat. His natural confidence making your heart flutter and the scent of his cologne making you feel lightheaded.
“All better?” He whispers as this thumb strokes your cheek.
You slowly nod in response, earning you small chuckle from Changmin before pulling away from you and lean his back against the tub once more.
“…Do you think I could hang out here for a while?” Your voice almost comes out as a whisper. “Not in the mood to bump into them anytime soon.”
Changmin’s heart slightly aches with the way your sad doe-eyes look at him. He wish he could do something right now that would help you forget everything your ex did to you.
He nods and swings his legs over the bathtub to make room for you beside him. He lends out his hand for you to grab as you get up and climb inside, sliding down to sit as you prop your legs over the bathtub as well.
You lean your head back and close your eyes for a moment, the muffled music behind the door playing as you control the pattern of your breathing.
“You know-” You turn your head and open your eyes to look at Changmin as soon as he speaks.
“It’s a shame what you ex did. Wanted to punch him in the face as soon as I heard the news.”
“Don’t you always want to punch him though?” You slightly smile, remembering that Changmin and your ex hated each other’s guts.
“Yeah well, even more so because he hurt you like that.” He turns his head to face you.
“You suddenly care about me Min?” You jokingly ask.
“Always have sweetheart.” He smiles back.
You feel your cheeks getting hot as you catch his eyes quickly flicking down at your lips. His Adam’s apple bobbing as he slowly swallows and soaks in every feature on your face, committing it to memory.
“I never understood why my ex would tell me to stay away from you.” You whisper back trying to break the tension.
“Yeah? What would he say about me?” He leans his head on the side of the bathtub, eager to know what you’ve been told.
“Many bad things.” You chuckle. “Like you’re a cheater, you don’t treat women right, you’re an A-class douchebag, the list goes on.”
“Kinda sounds like he was describing himself don’t you think?”
“Now that you mention it-” you both laugh with each other.
“And… Did you believe any of it?” Changmin looks directly into your eyes.
“N-no…” You whisper, not realizing your body is leaning closer to his.
“Good… Good girl.” His voice goes an octave lower as he brushes the loose hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear.
You feel your whole body is on fire. You’ve never had someone have this kind of effect on you, not even your ex when he was being incredibly flirty. The kind that just sends electric waves through your system, raging butterflies in your stomach, and not to mention the growing heat between your legs.
You try to subtly press your thighs together, attempting to relieve the throbbing ache in your core. But this little movement goes unnoticed by Changmin. He smirks to himself, amused with how reactive you are with him.
“I can make you forget about him-” Changmin suddenly speaks.
“W-what?” Your eyes widen at his vague choice of words.
“Just-” Changmin gently lays his hand on your thigh, slowly rubbing it up and down on your exposed skin. His touch making your core pulse harder than ever.
“-Let me help you forget. Do you wanna forget about him?” He reaches for your chin with his other hand and strokes your bottom lip with his finger, making you lightly gasp.
“P-please…” You whimper.
As soon as utter that one word, Changmin immediately presses his lips against yours. You’ve never felt such hunger in a kiss before, but it was something you wanted to always feel from now on. You kiss him back with the same level of hunger, focusing on how his lips move with yours.
And before you know it, you both move in sync swinging your legs back inside the bathtub. His eager hands holding you by your hips as you climb on top and straddle him. Both your bodies feeling the slight ache of the bathtub’s hard structure pressing but you don’t pay it mind.
His hands sneak under your skirt, placing them on your ass as you wrap your arms around his neck. You deepen the kiss further and smoothly insert your tongue inside his mouth.
Changmin groans at the feeling, squeezing your ass in his hands before mindlessly dragging your hips back and forth again this growing bulge. You moan into his mouth, the friction of his jeans rubbing against your throbbing bud making you so wet you’re sure you’re gonna leave a stain on him after this.
But Changmin would wear that stain proudly he thinks to himself. Any mark you would leave on him tonight he would wear it with pride. Truth be told, he had always found you so beautiful. The way his heart would beat faster every time he would see you, wishing one day that you’d notice him.
So to have you here on top of his lap, kissing him like this with your hands in his hair was more than he could ever wish for. Thank god the weed in his system gave him a bit of confidence to just play whatever cards he had with you tonight. And he was gonna play all of them as much as he could just to have you close to him for as long as he can.
“Wait-“ Changmin mumbles against your lips as he tries to pull away from you.
The way your eyes looked blown out and the sheen of saliva coating your lips was enough to have his cock stirring in his jeans.
“Is there something wrong?” Your eyebrows knit in confusion.
“What- No! Nothing could ever be wrong. Just- fuck-“ Now it was Changmin’s turn to stutter.
“Want you to sit on my face” he says so boldly.
“I-uh…are you sure? It’s just that-” You try to look away from his lustful gaze.
“Just what?” He holds up you chin to look at you.
“I’ve never been… You know…”
“Wait… you’ve never been eaten out before?” Changmin’s eyebrows raise.
“Please don’t laugh-“ you cover your face with your hands, embarrassed by your sudden confession. But Changmin holds your wrists pulls your hands away from your face.
“Oh sweetheart…” He strokes your cheek gently.
“I’d be honored to be the first one… Will you let me?” He asks with the most gentle voice. You nod in response.
“Stand up a bit.” As Changmin helps you get off his lap his hands go under your skirt to pull down your underwear, pocketing it for himself at the back of his jeans. He slides down his whole body, his back now fully laid against the floor of the bathtub. You could feel just how wet you’ve become with the cool air hitting your exposed cunt.
You adjust yourself and step over him, positioning your core right above his face before slowly kneeling down. Just as he was about to close his eyes and wait for you to sit on him you stop, leaving a gap between his mouth and your sweet sweet pussy. He could sense your nervousness already.
“Let me show you why he told you to stay away from me-”
Before you even get the chance to reply, Changmin hooks his arms around your thighs and presses you down against his face.
He immediately starts kissing your pussy lips before lapping at your cunt, the feeling of his tongue running through your folds and flicking your throbbing clit before taking it into his mouth and sucking on the bud.
Words are suddenly caught up in your throat as you let out whines and moans. You never thought being eaten out would feel so fucking good.
Your hand instantly finds it place on Changmin’s head, grabbing his short hair in attempt to keeping yourself balanced over him as other hand leans on the ledge of the bathtub. But the vibrations of his groan against your core as you pull on his hair makes it harder for you to keep your composure.
And somehow, best part about this is you can’t even see how Changmin is eating you out since your skirt is covering his face. Being unable to visually see his tongue licking between your folds as his nose nudges your clit heightens the sensation even further.
“Mmm so fucking sweet-” Changmin mumbles under you.
And Changmin is living his best life right now. He can’t believe your ex never did this to you and that he gets the honor of being the first one. He can feel how strained his cock is against his jeans as he continues on.
It doesn’t help that not only do you taste so good, but the pretty moans you give him are just as sweet. And if by some weird turn of events he ended up dying tonight, he would gladly die smothered between your legs.
“Feels so good…” You whine.
Your moans start to get louder and a bit more slurred, signaling to him that you’re close to reaching your high. And without warning, Changmin holds your hips down and grinds your cunt against his mouth.
“Shi- wait, Changmin I might cu-ugh!”
You yelp in surprise, both hands pulling his hair as you feel the knot in your stomach tightening further. The sounds of slurping and his grunting pushing you to the edge of ecstasy.
Your high hits you like a flash of lightning, making you involuntarily close your thighs together, squeezing Changmin’s face as your body squirms from the overstimulation. You hear Changmin moaning against your cunt as his hips involuntarily lift, indicating that he also reached his own high.
It’s the way your body convulsed as you orgasmed that made him explode in his jeans, the way your thighs squeezed his head had him nearly fainting from how hot that felt.
Oh he’s definitely replaying this moment in his mind from now on whenever he jerks off.
As soon as you’ve both calmed down from your highs you help each other freshen up, fixing each other’s appearances before heading out of the bathroom.
“You’ve got a little something there-” You point at the liquid at corner of his mouth, instantly knowing that it was a leftover smear of your essence on his face.
Changmin swipes it with his pinky, quickly examining it before sucking on his digit. Humming at the sweet taste of you as he keeps eye contact. He pulls you close by the waist, making you gasp as he leaves a small kiss on your lips.
“Wanna get out of here?” He whispers. You also give him a small kiss and smile, biting your lower lip as you nod in response. “Meet me outside okay? Lemme just freshen up a bit more.”
“Okay. See you outside-” You kiss his cheek before leaving the bathroom.
Changmin stays inside for five more minutes before heading out. As soon as he opens the door, he’s met with the face of your ex.
“Oh! What a pleasant surprise. Was wondering when I would be able to talk to you again-” Changmin smiles.
“About what exactly?” Your ex gives him an irritated look.
“About how sweet your girl actually is. Sorry, your ex-girl.” Changmin pulls out your underwear from his pocket and deeply inhales the wet patch left in front of your ex, staring into his eyes with a smirk on his face. Your ex’s eyes bulge out, knowing exactly what Changmin was implying.
“And by the way…” Changmin steps closer to your ex and leans close to his ear to whisper,
“She tasted absolutely divine. Not that you would know of course.”
❧ word count: 1.9k
❧ warnings: cursing lol, oh they DO have cheesy nicknames for each other (pooks/lovey) so if ur gonna be a hater abandon ship now
❧ genre: exes to lovers, drabble sequel to much mistletoeing about nothing, holiday-themed, getting snowed in trope
❧ author’s note: i had a couple more ideas that didn’t really fit in with much mistletoeing about nothing, so here’s an extra little drabble for these two
You held your phone further away from your ear as your sister kept yelling. “You didn’t tell me that the friend you were shacking up with for the snowstorm was Kun! Y/N, oh my God! Oh my God, Y/N!”
Sat in front of Kun’s fireplace bundled up in his favorite orange hoodie and a mass of blankets, you listened with a lingering smile on your face to your older sister’s ranting to you over your phone about how her Christmas dinner with your extended family went this year. She was filling you in on all of the family drama, and complaining about all the various older family members who kept trying to grab your baby niece from her arms even after she said no.
“Baby boy missed you, by the way,” she added, referencing her eldest. “He was very concerned about why his Aunt Y/N couldn’t be there.”
Before you could respond, Kun called to you from the kitchen, “Lovey? Want some hot chocolate?”
You grimaced as you realized that you hadn’t given him a heads-up that you were on the phone, hoping that your sister hadn’t heard that.
“Is that Kun?!” She practically screeched, nearly blowing out your speakers. You held your phone further away from your ear as she kept going. “You didn’t tell me that the friend you were shacking up with for the snowstorm was Kun! Y/N, oh my God! Oh my God, Y/N!”
Well aware that you had been got, you covered the mic to look over at Kun, who mouthed an ‘oops! sorry!’ to you. You shook your head to let him know you weren’t mad, and held up a finger in a gesture for him to wait on the hot chocolate while you dealt with this.
“Alright, chill out,” you grumbled at your sister. “Yes, I’m staying with Kun right now…”
“Holy shit! How? When? Are you guys like… back together or is this a lonely-on-the-holidays hook-up thing?”
“Don’t tell Mom and Dad anything yet but… we’re trying again.”
“Oh my God!” She squealed. “For real? Since when? How did you—? Tell me everything!”
“Christ, you’re going to burst my eardrums at this rate... I can’t turn the volume down any more without muting you entirely, you know.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just really excited for you,” she gushed, and the warmth of her voice spread through your chest. “You were just… always so happy around him. And I know you’ve felt a little… untethered the past few years.”
You nodded in agreement even though she couldn’t see it. “Anyway, it turns out he got a job at the same place I’m doing my research. We ran into each other, and had nothing better to do on Christmas, then this freak snowstorm came, and we got to really talking again.”
“You’ve officially made my year, Y/N!” Her bright, infectious smile was audible through the phone. “Anyway, we’re about to go back to Mom and Dad’s for New Year’s, so I have to go.”
“Promise you won’t tell them?” You asked, warning in your tone. “You’ll let me do it? Once we’ve got things a bit more figured out.”
“Fine, fine, I promise! You know I’m good at keeping secrets.”
“Uh-huh. Tell everybody Happy New Year from me, okay?”
“Will do! Happy New Year, Y/N!” She then added even louder, “Happy New Year, Kun!”
“You’re not on speakerphone, dumbass.”
“Oh, boo. Tell him Happy New Year for me, please?”
“Fine, I will,” you sighed. “Happy New Year. Love you, bye.”
“Bye, love you!”
And with that, you hung up. Getting onto your feet, you shuffled into the kitchen where Kun had two steaming mugs on the counter. He offered one out to you, and you took it gratefully. He dropped a couple of marshmallows in the hot chocolate for you.
“Thanks, pooks.” You blew over the surface. “She says Happy New Year, by the way.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were—”
“It’s okay, Kun,” you reassured him. “I didn’t tell you I was on the phone. And you know how she is, she would’ve sleuthed it out eventually by triangulating my signal or something if I hadn’t told her.”
“I haven’t told my family yet either,” he said, then took a sip of his hot chocolate. “I thought it was best that the two of us just sort of… figured everything out first, before inviting in any bothers.”
“And my bothers you mean brothers.”
“That, too.”
You chuckled, taking your first sip of cocoa. “Mm, that’s good. Peppermint?”
“Yeah, Dr. Oh gave us all these gourmet hot chocolate bomb things for Christmas,” he explained, holding his mug out towards you. “Mine’s gingerbread.”
“Ooh.” You swapped mugs to try some of the other’s. “That one’s really good too. I think I like mine better, though.”
“Yeah, mine’s maybe a bit over-the-top on the spices?” He mused, exchanging cups once more.
“I miss your brothers,” you admitted quietly, settling back against the kitchen counter. “They were always so much fun.”
Kun scooted over to loosely loop an arm around your waist, and you leaned against him affectionately. “They miss you too. With Chenle graduating in the spring, he wanted to start brainstorming for his graduation party when I went and visited for Dejun’s birthday. We were looking at pictures from Dejun’s party for some inspiration—he of course needs his to be even better, you know.”
“Oh, of course,” you snickered fondly, already able to imagine it. Chenle was the baby of the family, and he had no shame in using that position to his advantage.
“You were in so many of the photos. And Chenle just kind of got really quiet…”
“That’s not like him.”
“No, it’s not,” he agreed solemnly. “He didn’t say anything, I know for my sake, but I think he was having a hard time imagining his graduation without you.”
“Maybe he just felt awkward looking at a bunch of pictures with you that had your ex in them.”
“We were together for five years, Y/N. You made as much of an impact on their lives as mine. You used to help Chenle with all those school projects, and picked him up from school…”
You felt a lump growing in your throat as you sniffled and nodded. “Remember when he ran away from home to our apartment?”
“Yeah, you managed to convince my mom to let him stay with us for a few days— which only worked because she adored you so much, by the way. He was glued to your side the whole time.”
“He just needed a break. Poor kid was so stressed.”
Kun rubbed your back. “You were always so good with him.”
You took another pensive drink of your cocoa. “Do you think… we’ll be okay this time?”
“I have to think so.” He pressed a kiss to your temple absentmindedly. “Do you think we’ll be okay this time?”
“Yeah.” You set your mug down to turn around and wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. He immediately enveloped you in his arms, holding you closely. Your chest twinged at the familiarity. “I think we’ve got it this time.”
“What time do you think it is?” You murmured, hand clasped in Kun’s and head resting on his shoulder as the two of you slowly swayed together in his living room. What had started out as goofy, lighthearted dancing to some of his vinyls had turned into slow-dancing as the album playing right now was more melancholic and heartfelt.
Kun lifted up his watch so both of you could see it. 11:59 p.m. “Almost there…”
Both of you were silent as you watched the seconds count up on the watch face.
12:00 a.m.
“Happy New Year’s, pooks.” You lifted your head up to look him in the eye, a wide grin on your face. "And Happy Birthday."
"Best birthday present I could ask for." He cupped your cheek tenderly, smiling right back at you. “Happy New Year, lovey.”
You brushed his hair from his face before surging forward to close the space between you. Kun was still smiling into the kiss, running a gentle thumb over your cheekbone. At the sound of a phone ringing, he broke away with a groan.
“That’ll be my family,” he sighed, stealing another kiss from you. “I should get that.”
You made the motion of zipping your lips and throwing away the key, and he dropped one last peck to the corner of your mouth before begrudgingly letting you go and walking over to where his phone was buzzing and ringing from the kitchen.
“Hey, Mom! Happy New Year!” He greeted his mother enthusiastically. “Happy New Year, Dad! Yeah, Chenle, I heard you, I was getting to you—Oh my god, Dejun, yes, Happy New Year to you too!”
You couldn’t help but giggle, covering your mouth as you quietly tiptoed over to pick up your empty hot cocoa mugs and start putting them in the sink.
“Oh, lovey, you don’t have to—” Kun was pointing his phone mic away from him as he addressed you, but that obviously did nothing to conceal his words from his entire family on the other end of the line. You heard the familiar catastrophic yells of his little brothers, fully bursting into laughter as Kun’s eyes went wide with realization at what he’d just done. The sounds of your name rang through the speakers clearly, and he mouthed another apology at you.
“It’s fine, pooks,” you chuckled at a normal volume, letting yourself be heard.
Kun winced as he lifted his phone back up to his ear. “Yes, I’m with Y/N right now… No, no, I’m not handing the phone to her. Chenle, I can hear you pouting, stop that. It’s not going to make me—”
You held your hand out to him expectantly.
“Are you sure? You really don’t have to indulge these little demons,” he hissed the last part into the phone, then turned panicked. “No! Of course, I didn’t mean you, Mom, I meant Dejun and Chenle!”
“It’s alright,” you reassured him with another chuckle, motioning for him to hand the device over. Once you had his phone, you put it on speakerphone, sidling up next to him as you greeted his family. “Happy New Year’s, everyone!”
The two boys on the other end erupted into cheers of your name and general yelling in the background, while their mother actually addressed you. “Happy New Year, Y/N. It’s great to hear from you again, sweetheart.”
“It’s really nice to talk to you all again, too,” you told her honestly, as Kun wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
“Y/N!” Chenle cut in. “It’s really you?!”
“Yes, LeLe, it’s really me,” you chuckled. “I heard you’re graduating soon, big kid! Congrats.”
“Does this mean you two are back together?!” Dejun was much closer to the phone now.
Kun shook his head at his brother’s words. “Stop it. Y/N doesn’t have to answer that.”
“Oh, something like that,” you answered Dejun anyway with a mischievous, giddy grin.
As the younger sons erupted into celebratory yells in the distance again, you were left to speak only with his parents.
“That’s lovely to hear,” his mother said sweetly.
“Are you well, Y/N?” His dad asked.
After chatting with Kun’s family for a few more minutes, you and Kun gave them your goodbyes before hanging up. You had a lingering smile on your face as you looked over at Kun, cradling his face with both your hands. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow as you just continued looking at him.
“Something on my face?”
“Just looking,” you answered simply. “I’m… really happy right now, Kun.”
That made him smile, too, and he looked down at the floor for a moment before bringing his eyes back up to meet yours. “I’m really happy right now, too, Y/N.”
He leaned in to slot his mouth with yours again, and you hummed delightedly into the kiss.
“Seems like it came true, then.”
It was your turn to regard him with confusion. “What do you mean, pooks?”
“We are having a Happy New Year.”
You let out a couple of incredulous laughs, planting kisses on his dimples between each one. “You sap. My sap.”
“I hope that snowstorm never gets cleared,” he declared, kissing you again.
