𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 — jisung tells his girlfriend everything he knows about the universe and somewhere in between his rambling, she realizes she’d listen to him forever.
𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — park jisung x female reader
𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 — fluff
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 784
the observatory feels like it’s holding the night carefully in its hands.
above, the dome opens into darkness so wide it almost feels unreal—stars scattered across it like something spilled too gently to clean up. below, the space is quiet in that intentional way. footsteps softened, voices lowered, everyone pretending not to be overwhelmed by how small they are under something so vast.
jisung, however, looks completely at home in it.
“okay, so,” he starts immediately, already leaning toward the telescope like he can’t help himself, “what people call shooting stars aren’t actually stars. they’re meteors—basically space debris—burning up when they hit the atmosphere. it’s the friction that makes them glow, not like, actual starlight or anything.”
you nod slowly, following where he points up.
you try to focus. you really do.
“and comets are different,” he continues, turning slightly toward you now, voice picking up that familiar rhythm you’ve learned to recognize instantly—the one that means he’s excited enough to forget everything else. “they’re made of ice and dust, so when they get close to the sun, they heat up and that’s what creates the tail. and fun fact—the tail always points away from the sun, no matter where it’s going.”
“that’s kind of cool,” you say, eyes still on the sky.
and it is cool. you actually mean it.
you squint a little harder now, trying to trace what he’s describing. the sky doesn’t suddenly make sense, but there’s something satisfying about trying to piece it together through his voice. like he’s giving shape to something you’d otherwise just passively admire.
“okay, look—there,” jisung says, stepping a little closer as he points. “that cluster. the pleiades.”
you follow his finger. this time, you think you see it... or maybe you’re just trusting him more than your own eyes.
“i think i got it,” you murmur.
jisung hums softly, still watching the sky, “yeah, that’s it. you just have to let your eyes adjust a bit more, it gets clearer after a while.”
and somewhere between one explanation and the next, your attention starts to drift again. not upward, but sideways. to him.
the way his face shifts when he talks, how his brows pull together slightly when he’s explaining something carefully, how his eyes brighten like they’re reflecting something no telescope could ever capture. his voice changes too, soft but charged with this quiet intensity, like everything he says about the universe matters deeply to him in a way that spills over into the air around him.
you realize you’ve stopped looking up.
jisung keeps talking anyway.
“it’s kind of insane, right?” he says, gaze still on the sky. “like all of that is just… there. all the time. whether we see it or not.”
you hum, but it’s faint.
because now you’re watching him more than anything else.
the way he gestures without thinking, how he leans forward slightly when he’s making a point like the universe might lean closer too if he just explains it well enough. there’s this ease in him, this gravity—not loud, not dramatic, but steady. like he doesn’t just talk about the universe, he belongs to the feeling of it.
“you’re not even looking anymore,” he says suddenly, glancing at you with a knowing smile.
you blink, “i am.”
he raises a brow.
you sigh lightly, giving up on pretending, “okay, maybe not fully.”
that makes him laugh. soft, fond, like he already expected it.
“what’s distracting you then?” he asks, turning a little more toward you now.
you open your mouth, then close it again.
because how do you say you without sounding like you’ve forgotten the stars exist?
instead, you glance back up, forcing yourself to refocus.
“fine,” you say. “explain it again. i want to actually see it this time.”
jisung’s smile softens.
“okay,” he says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
and he starts again. more patient this time. slower. pointing carefully, guiding your attention back to the sky.
you try harder now, you really do—following the shapes, the clusters, the faint patterns he keeps describing. and for a few seconds, you manage it. you actually see it. you understand what he means when he talks about distance, about light, about things that exist even when they feel impossible to reach.
but then he speaks again—excited, just a little louder when he recognizes something he loves—
and you lose it again.
the way he talks like he’s opening something endless inside himself and letting you see it without hesitation. the way he looks when he’s passionate, like he’s not just describing the universe, but feeling it.
and suddenly, the stars above don’t feel like the main thing anymore.
your actions, emotions and sometimes words lead to everyone thinking you may be in love with mark even though you refuse to cross the line between friendship and something more.
pairing ! nonidol!mark x fem!reader.
genre ! angst, fluff, a bit suggestive, mention of alcohol, mention of reader getting drunk, mention of cheating (not them), reader wears glasses.
wc ! 4.2k
note ! HAPPY BDAY BOY, YOU THOUGH I WAS GONNA FORGET. i wrote this in like one day, probably many errors,,, but well i WANTED to post it so yea, another one soon (dont act believe me) !! anyway happy mark day, is almost ending but well, i love my boy so here is my gift to y’all bc why aren’t more mark fics on his day?? HATE CRIME.
a few feet away from you, the sight of him was clouding every single one of your senses.
you don’t even dare to look away, every time you tried to, was like the room had a dark twisted fog surrounding it and he was the only clear body in sight. the pout adorning your lips becomes more prominent when his twinkled gaze finds you, it was just a mere glance, not even a second, nor even noticing your flustered state, as he doesn’t waste time to go back to the conversation he was having.
blinking twice, you are not able to take your eyes off the scene unfolding in the approximately next four seconds. the girl stepped closer to him, bringing her hand to softly brush his hair away, acting as if it was getting in his eyes. you knew that move, you have used it before.
it leaves a strange taste in your mouth, so you bring the red cup to your lips, not even sure what it had in it anymore. you take a small sip, using the fruitiness savor just to make the bittersweet feeling go away — but it doesn’t work, you don’t even feel the watery-like liquid going down your throat the moment you see him lean down to be able to hear her better.
you feel your stomach drop as your hand crushes the plastic cup slightly, he shouldn’t be that close to her.
from where you were standing it looked like one wrong move and they would kiss, and just with that thought appearing in your mind you felt like puking, watching as his fingers held her wrist, letting her hand rest on top of his chest. you couldn’t actually hear them but mark’s laugh was a sound etched in your head, so you did know how he sounded as he threw his head back with a smile on his face while she was giggling.
is not like you are bothered looking at him flirting with someone else, honestly for you he’s just a friend and who he flirts with it’s the least of your worries, the thing is that she is not just ‘someone else’. of all his exes, you would argue she’s the worst — “are you going to stare at them all night?” your friend’s voice makes you, finally, look away.
blinking a few times, you look at her with a frown taking over your features, “i am not staring.”
you put the cup down on the furniture behind you, trying to stop your eyes from going to where he was again, “yeah, sure,” your friend giselle says, a knowing smile on her lips.
“i just— don’t like her, that’s all.”
and it was true, how could you like someone who shamelessly flirted with a stranger in front of him? she may have not cheated and he may have forgiven her, but you are his friend, it is your duty to hate her for the rest of your life. and that’s why you are a little bothered by it, nothing else, just a friend being protective of a friend, that’s it.
jeno nudges your side, “umm. . . ‘cause she’s getting his attention and you are not.”
you open your mouth, ready to say something even though no matter what you say, is going to sound like a lame excuse to them. “don’t think is that, she’s wearing his jacket,” giselle points out at what you were wearing, making a small pause, “she came hand in hand with him and-.”
jaemin’s voice calling jeno to play beer ping pong can be heard, and on top of it, an scoff from you, quickly naming all the reasons they have heard before:
“it fits me!” you motion with your hands, “also, it gives a nice touch to the outfit, you know it.” you watch the boy nodding before patting your head, not wanting to hear you anymore as he walks to the table a few steps away from you.
you hold two fingers up, “and he picked me up on his way, it was convenient!”
she bites a laugh, nodding her head slowly, “okay. . . that doesn’t mean you have to hold hands.”
“that’s- that’s no-” you take a deep breath as you found yourself stuttering, knowing it doesn’t help your case , “he- you know, he’s always holding everyone’s hands,” you shake your head, tired of explaining the same things every time.
ning chimes in, “yeah, because that’s what friends always do.”
you can sense the sarcastic tone in her voice, making you frown as you turn to look at her, “yes.” you say and then, a hiccup leaves your mouth, a clear sign of your alcoholized state, “whatever, this is dumb,” you push yourself off the wall, stumbling a bit as you try to walk away, “i’m getting another drink.”
two steps you had taken when you heard your friend say, “girl, you are already bad.”
you feel her hand around your wrist, making you stop for a second, “i-” you stopped yourself, watching as she seems about to scold you by the expression on her face, “no alcohol, water, water.”
pushing her hand off your wrist, you motion for her to calm down with your hands. before making your way towards the kitchen, you needed a minute to shut your mind, needing to get away from the room before you get more frustrated about having to repeat the same things you have told your friends, one, two, three times even: you are just friends, there’s nothing between you and mark, you are not in love with him.
-
if i slip and somehow say it, you should know in advance i’m wasted.
for you, this was the most boring party of the year.
ning had decided to join the ping pong beer table, where she was having the time of her life beating everyone’s ass. giselle was easy to spot, in the centre of the room, swaying her body to the rhythm coming from the speakers. jeno was dragged to, probably, some other game by jaemin, and mark, you are not quite sure anymore.
you on the other side, you had taken a bottle of water from the fridge because giselle was right — and so, you decided to lower the alcohol in your system. the cold air of the night touched your face, making you bring your hand up and cover your cheeks for a second, before sitting down on the balcony. you wanted so badly to go home, change your clothes for some of mark’s oversized shirts and just lay in bed until you fall asleep.
but you can’t leave the party, you came to the party with him and you are leaving with him, it was an unspoken agreement and even when he hasn’t been by your side since the moment you let go of his hand to hug your friends, you were going to wait for him.
putting the water bottle down by your side, you bring your legs to your chest, resting your cheeks on top of your knees, hugging yourself trying to keep the cold away. your eyes wandered to the party going inside the apartment, being able to locate your friends easily, even mark who was now with the boys except you aren’t able to make him look at you, so you turn away, noticing how the stars were the only source of light outside.
it was a bit frustrating, how you can’t seem to ignore that feeling tonight, how every inch of your body wanted him to be with you instead of whatever he was doing, even when you have told him repeatedly that you are just friends which was more of a poor excuse for you to. . . — “there you are.”
your line of thought is interrupted by his voice, it was soft, like it was meant to be heard only by you. turning to the sound of his voice, you blink a couple times to push the tiredness away, squinting your eyes as you look at him squatting down in front of you.
his hair was a bit messy, probably from running his hands through it — or her hands. one of his sweet smiles was adorning his face, making you feel a bit at ease for a moment, his shining big eyes looking at you intensely, like he was trying to study you.
“there you are,” you say, scrunching your nose at him, not moving from your comfortable position, “you have been. . . busy all night, haven’t you?”
he shakes his head, one of his hands going to poke your cheek, “yeah, looking for you.”
you roll your eyes, words leaving your mouth before you could process it, “liar.” it was barely a whisper and he was able to hear it because of how close he was, “you were by her side all night.”
a frown appears on his face, “her side?” he sounds confused while his eyes dart around, as if he was thinking, “who’s her, baby?”
“don’t call me baby,” you whine, making him bite a laugh, not wanting to make you mad when you were clearly a bit drunk and sleepy. “not when you were all touchy with her.”
“can you say her name?”
mark was trying to understand what was going inside your mind because he knows you, and your drunk sleepy version tends to be a bit dramatic —he loves it though, you get all pouty, your cheeks adorned by a light pink flush and you babble nonsense, you are just cute.
you shake your head, “no, i don’t want to.” he hums, his hand brushing your cheek softly, “you know i don’t like her,” you pause, making a puking sound to show how disgusted your are, “you,” you finally turn your head up, “you,” pointing at him, “please, don’t get back together.”
that’s when he gets what you were talking about, shaking his head quickly while both his hands go to hold yours, “baby, that’s no- i’m never getting back with her, no.”
he starts to explain, talking fast, wanting nothing more than for you to know there was nothing to worry about. “i was waiting for her friends to be back! she was really drunk and- and- really i didn’t think it was okay to leave her alone like that- i, baby, i was trying to- i even held her wrist to push her hand away and. . . sorry baby, it won’t happen again, i swear.”
“whatever. . . she sucks,” you say, ”and you deserve better,” putting your hands on top of his, your eyes closed and a pout on your lips, “just- don’t want the boy i love get his heart broken again,” he feels his heart skip a beat, hearing you say those words for the first time.
-
every friend of mine, i told them the same: no, i’m not in love.
your nostrils were filled with the smell of smoke, and with it a small drop of eggs, bread and strawberry, making you jolt awake. you sat up on the bed, not opening your eyes yet, as you feel a slightly pulsating pressing around your head, and now you regret drinking that much the night before.
opening your eyes slowly, you blink a couple times to adjust them to the light, rubbing your eyelids softly before you physically freeze.
memories of the night before appearing in your mind, it was fragments, short moments, ending quickly. your friends, you, mark. the sounds you were hearing didn’t exactly belong to the moments you were watching. it was like a movie edit, the scenes, voice-over, random song in the background, and the words, more specifically that word. love. the boy i love.
you shake your head, pushing the blanket off your body with your hands and feet, standing up quickly, your feet almost getting stuck in the blanket, almost making you fall.
those memories have to be your own mind messing with you, yes, you are doing that, there was no way you had said that word to him, the only explanation could be your drunken state. your feet seem to be acting on its own, making you walk from one side of the room to the other, pacing while your fingers fidget with the ends of the shirt you were wearing — his shirt.
you feel a shiver going down your spine, standing still in the middle of the room — his room. is not the first time you have slept in that room, hell, you have even shared the same bed before but this time was different. very different. you take your phone from the nightstand and waste no time in quickly unlocking it, your hands trembling as you do so, you stop walking for a second while staring at the screen.
‘who could you call’ that was the question in bold capital letters. you stare at giselle contact, shaking your head no as you realise she’s probably sleeping and would kill you if you wake her up. then jaemin, he would be really helpful if he actually picked up the phone. and so you decide the only person who could help you was ning.
you press the call button while your feet take you to the bathroom, locking the door as soon as you step in the place. one ring, you could feel your heart about to jump out your chest. two rings, running your hand throughout your face. three rings, you are seriously considering jumping out the window. four rings and if she doesn’t pick u-. . . “i have only said ‘i love you’ twice in my entire life.”
those are the first words that leave your mouth; the second she picks up. is a whisper, scared someone else may hear you. “. . .okay?”
“and this doesn’t count, right?” a breathy laugh escapes your lips, “i was wasted so I didn't mean it.”
you were trying to convince yourself that whatever happened wasn’t important and you knew it, you have been doing that for the last two months. you hear ning’s voice on the other side of the line “what did you do?”
“. . . ummn,” you hesitate because for you, the second you allow yourself to say it out loud is when everything becomes real. “you know i was pretty drunk last night. . .”
you were whispering while pronouncing every word slowly, and you could picture ning rolling her eyes and taking a deep breath, “umm. . . more like tipsy but yes, i can recall that, and?”
closing your eyes, you give yourself a pat on the back, ready to say the next words: “i told mark something along the lines of ‘i love you’.”
this time, you talked really fast, still a whisper but fast, you hear a gasp on the other like, “you did what? oh my-. . .” she pauses, and you hear movement, before she adds: “and what happened after?”
opening your mouth to answer, you stop yourself, eyes squinted as you look at the wall trying to remember. blinking once, you turn your attention to the phone call, “don’t know!” she could hear the frustration in your voice, except that she was wrong about the reason why, “and don’t care, ning, are you hearing what i’m saying?”
“yes, you said ‘i love you’ to mark.”
you close your eyes, shaking your head as you hear what she said, a mix of a crying noise and a whine leaving your mouth, “that’s not possible, you know."
your friend takes a deep breath, and this time you can hear it, “it is, you love him.”
“i’m not in love with him, we are just friends,” you quickly say, like you were programmed to say those words, “ning, i only have said ‘i love you’ to two men in my entire life,” you say, holding a finger up as you talk, “to park jinyoung when i met him like three years ago,” she hums, remembering clearly that moment, “and my ex, who i dated just because he looked like park jinyoung!” your hand quickly covers your mouth as you noticed you raised your voice saying that.
“and now, mark.” ning adds, humming slowly, as if she was pointing something helpful.
you gasp as an idea crosses your mind, pointing at yourself in the mirror, “i wasn’t wearing glasses. . . he probably looked like jinyoung to me!”
you hear ning let out a laugh, a really loud one, “be for real, mark looks nothing like him.” and she was right, you knew it, but you also knew that you needed a real explanation, “my friend, i love you but you are annoying.” you are about to refute her words but she keeps talking:
“mark has been having heart eyes for you, who knows for how long, don’t you feel guilty knowing you are constantly playing with his feelings?” that did hurt. “i know you are not, like, doing it on purpose, but girl, don’t just come here and say you said those words because you were thinking about your celebrity crush, we all know is not true.” and she was right. “we all have been seeing the way you act and even feel around him, i know it is the first time you have felt this way and it is probably scary but you are in love with him.“
-
i’m not in love, no, why would you think that?
your hand was holding the door handle, one twist and it would open, closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, calming yourself before putting a fake smile on your lips. no, you shouldn’t be smiling. you frown, the typical expression you tend to have every time you wake up.
you are met up with a lovely sight, if that’s what you would call the not fully cooked eggs, a slightly burnout toast and some strawberry juice. you try to bite a laugh, unsuccessfully doing so, and that sound makes mark turn around, his eyes darting from the food on the table to you, a nervous smile adorning his lips while one his hands scratches the back of his neck.
walking towards the table you make eye contact for a second, before gluing your eyes to the food plate, “not that good of a morning, huh?”
he shakes his head, pointing to the pan behind him, “i’m making more.”
motioning with your hand, you take a seat, grabbing a slice of bread and looking at it closely before putting it down, “don’t you have cereal?”
“i-. . . yes.” he stumbles across his small kitchen, grabbing the milk from the fridge, “how are you feeling?” he asks as he sets the milk in front of you, his eyes trying to find yours, failing as you refuse to look at him.
“ummn. . . my head hurts a bit,” you say, taking a sip from the strawberry juice, “don’t remember much from last night.”
and then a hiccup leaves your body. giving you away to him.
he squints his eyes, “right,” you grab the box of cereal off his hands, “do you remember saying. . .” he makes a pause, looking at you intensely, observing your movements. and you tensed, fearing his next words, “that you would give me 300 if you weren’t able to do a split?”
that makes you look at him, a frown taking over your features, because no amount of alcohol in your system would make you say something about doing a split,“that didn’t happen.”
squinting your eyes, you don’t look away as he keeps his eyes on yours, “it did happen.”
“no, it didn’t."
a smirk tries to appear on his lips but he keeps a blank expression, taking a few steps forward, “how could you know,” he points at you before crossing his arms over his chest, ”you don’t remember.”
you stop yourself from pouring milk onto the cereal, looking around the apartment you know really well, “i do remember things.”
your voice was small, as if you didn’t want him to hear you but he does, going around the table and standing by your side. “oh,” he bends down, wanting to be at your eye level, “so you do remember, don’t you?”
“i- yes- i mean, no.” a hiccup, again, making you curse under your breath. you were searching in the deepest parts of your brain for a reasonable excuse, visibly panicking when you didn’t, “i tell that to everyone, it’s nothing special!” you raised your voice, standing up quickly, trying to make some space between the two of you.
he throws his head back, closing his eyes as if your words had physically hurt him, “oh i would really hope you don’t. oh god.” stepping forwards, he closes the space between the two of you, standing close enough to touch you but he doesn't, instead he just keeps his hands on his side, itching to do something.
“so you just-. . .” he pauses, shaking his head, “i thought i was very clear about how i feel about you, and you just,” he points at you, then runs his hand through his face, taking a deep breath, “just keep playing with me,” there it was that word again, making you bite the inside of your cheek, stopping yourself from interrupting him. “you said ‘the boy i love’ and asked me to not get back with my ex —not that i wanted to, and bab- yn. . . i’m willing to wait for you, because that’s all i have been doing for the past two years, i want you even if you act like we are just friends in front of everyone, like you don’t feel the same way i do, like me talking to an ex doesn’t bother you, because i. . .”
the way that even when he was clearly upset, he tried to reassure you, made you heart skip a bit, your lungs stop working for a mili-second, your brain malfunctioned. and so, you stepped forward, your hand reaching for his and interlacing your fingers, “i love you.” he says, the three words leaving his lips like the air has left his lungs, his eyes wide and shining.
“you know. . . i,” you hesitate, squeezing his hand softly, while staring at your interlaced fingers, “if i say it,” you voice is barely a whisper, not because you feel nervous, it was more an overwhelmed feeling making you wonder how could you deserve such a good boy, “it would be the first time, i, say those three words to someone who doesn’t look like park jinyoung.”
a laugh escapes your lips, shaking your head as you turn to face him, wanting to look him in the eye before saying the rest of the things that were on your mind. when you look at him, you aren’t able to stop the smile threatening to appear on your lips, his eyes wide and sparkling while he stares at you as if you hold the stars, his cheeks adorned with a light pink flush, and a big smile, the biggest you have seen on him.
his other hand goes to your face, softly brushing your cheek, “mark,” he hums in response, “i’m so sorry,” that makes him take his hand away, thinking that maybe he got everything wrong but you squeeze his hand again, bringing it to your eye level. “that it took me so long to finally say it and i will make it up to you because i love you.”
it takes him a second to react, giggling, covering his face with his hand as he turns his face away, and then he doesn’t wait anymore, his mouth coming down on yours, fast and soft.
his kiss tasted like mint toothpaste, and even when his lips were moving softly, it was strong as if he was trying to show you how much he yearned for you, wanting nothing more than to memorise every movement of your lips.
you pull away before the kiss could get more intense, his lips following after yours with a pout on them, whining, “bab-”
interrupting him, you bop his nose, “baby,” you say, making him open his eyes while you guide him to the table, “you made breakfast, let’s-. . . ”
as you were taking a seat where you were previously sitting, he quickly rushes to the other side and drags the chair to sit next to you, “you wanted cereal.” he talks with a frown on his face, taking one toast and bringing it to his lips, “also. . . your kissing skills are terrible,” he takes a small bite while you gasp at his words, “my lips hurts”.
putting the spoonful of cereal down, you squint your eyes at him, “didn’t you wante-. . .”
he turns to look at you, not letting you finish talking as he quickly says, “need to practice more,” and kisses you. fast. his hand going to your neck and holding you firmly, not wanting you to pull away this time.
you kiss him back, of course, you do. letting him take your breath away as his tongue enters your mouth. you bring your hands up to cup his face the moment you feel him pull you closer by the small of your back, feeling him moaning into the kiss.
it doesn’t take him long before his hands are pulling you onto his lap, his mouth leaving yours for a second, “do you want to stop?” he asks, slightly out of breath, lips swollen, pupils blown.
you have always been the type of person who never let’s anyone actually get too close, that is, until haechan makes you put all your walls down.
pairing ! nonidol!haechan x fem!reader.
genre ! kinda friends to lovers, angst, fluff.
warnings ! mention of alcohol, drunk haechan, reader has avoidant attachment, reader is a bit mean, a little of he fell first and harder, reader is younger for like two years, best friend jisung, description of panic attack, bullying, lmk if i missed smthg.
wc ! 11.8k
notes ! well, i used to be a why don't we fan and now that i can't listen to their music anymore,, the title is bc of their song, give my boys the chance of re-recording their music pls. anyway another haechan fic. this is also longer than what i had planned. also let me know what you think i appreciate your feedback !
i.
when you met lee donghyuck, your first thought was ‘can’t believe anyone would be his friend.’
the concept of the word ‘friend’ is simple: a person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, for you, the implication of a gentle feeling of liking, was complicated.
ever since you were a little kid, you would prefer to spend your time alone, the mere implication of having to interact with another human being and define it ‘pleasant’ was a very stressful task. for you, making friends was a waste of time and you couldn’t understand the worried look on older people’s eyes because you had none.
‘ignore them, i want to be alone’ that’s what you though, you remember the first time you tried it out, a four year old with a deer plushie behind her mom as she dropped you in daycare, a bigger kid walking to you as soon as your mom left, calling you her ‘new friend’ receiving a disgusted reaction from you, then she tried sharing her toys but you simply ignored her and sat there holding onto your deer staring at nothing.
in kindergarten, it was exactly what you would do, and when other kids were crying, being too loud or even just sitting too close to you, you’d get annoyed. there was an exception, a shy crying boy of whom you took a liking, mostly because he would change his strawberry milk with you but also because he was quiet, so he became the only kid you could tolerate.
living in the same zone and studying at the same school, made you form a friendship with that little boy, and you would say that even years later when you turned into a teenager, nothing really changed. that shy crying boy who doesn’t cry much anymore has become your best friend, you two would spend all your time together, and you would ignore anyone else who tried to talk to you, because you didn’t care about making other friends, and you considered that one real friend was enough.
so you’d have to thank your best friend, park jisung, he is the reason you met donghyuck in the first place.
you met him a couple of years ago, on your second week at college to be more exact, you could recall that moment from your memory. it had been quite hard to adapt to the campus life, it was something totally new, far away from everything you used to know but you knew you were going to be okay, as long as jisung was by your side. that day, even though it was nothing special, you’d go to the cafeteria to meet up with your best friend for lunch.
it had been a long week, so naturally you were happy you could eat together and finally talk about anything. when you entered the cafeteria, it took you around ten seconds to ubicate where jisung was, sitting beside a shorter boy who was laughing at something your best friend had said, his laugh was loud and it seemed to attract everyone’s attention. your first thought was ‘oh, he already made new friends’ and you were good with that but it made you hesitate to approach him for a second, because what you did not like was him trying to make you have new friends.
after taking a deep breath, you decided to at least try, so you walked to the table and sat there with them, finally getting the chance to see him properly. you weren’t going to lie, he was easy on the eyes, his brown hair gently falling over his forehead above his pretty brown eyes distracted you for a second. cause even though he seemed to be really nice to jisung, god, not even five minutes in and you have already decided he was the living example of the definition of ‘obnoxious’ and as normal, you decided you didn’t like him.
you loved your best friend, you would say he is the only person that you care for, but no matter how much you love him, there was no way you’d be friends with his new ‘cool’ friend.
first of all because you couldn’t understand why anybody would want to be friends with someone so loud.
even though you have always liked to be alone, for some reason, you had no problem with being with jisung, he is very similar to you, quiet, introverted and in his own world. yet, he can make friends easily, you think it is mainly because of his generous nature, people are drawn to him.
“ji, can you-. . .” before you could even finish your sentence, he was already switching his strawberry milk with your banana one, earning a smile from you.
“why would you even ask,” he rolled his eyes as he sat beside you, “sometimes i think you only like me for the strawberry milk.”
you were about to say something about how that is not even true when a loud ‘dude’ was heard in the whole cafeteria, naturally your eyes searched for the culprit, noticing him sitting a few tables away laughing with his group of friends. ‘that’s the coolest shirt i have ever seen’ as you heard his voice again you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
“how can you even like him?” you asked your best friend without taking your eyes off donghyuck, he seemed to attract the attention of everyone.
“who?” he was not even looking at you but at his banana milk while opening it, “hyuck?” it seems like a coincidence, as soon as he said his name, the boy whose name it was and that you were staring at, locked eyes with you before flashing you a dimple-showing smile.
you immediately shook your head as a barely audible ‘iugh’ left your lips, “yes, he’s so. . .-” you tilted your head as you thought about what word should you say, ‘annoying’? yes he is but that’s not the one, ‘in need of attention’? no, that’s a phrase. . . ‘sung’ oh, his voice again.
he was standing in front of you, smiling at your best friend and before he could say anything, “loud, he’s so loud,” you muttered, standing up as you took your strawberry milk, not even sparing a glance at the older boy before leaving the cafeteria.
-
something you would never understand is why would anyone try so hard to be liked by someone they don’t even know?
you wouldn’t say you are a nice person, you tend to ignore everyone unless you actually like them, so it was strange to see donghyuck being nice to you when you were the opposite to him. he was so unlikeable, loud, annoying, talkative, but the worst of all he is incredibly nice.
every time you saw him around the campus he would smile at you and you, of course, would act like you didn’t even see him. you would blatantly show your disgust when you would be looking around the cafeteria and he would wave his hand trying to get you to sit with him, and you, without blinking, would choose to sit far away from him. you ignore his presence, you would be with jisung and he would appear and talk to the both of you, you would leave not even saying bye to your best friend.
but a month later, you started to feel bad about your attitude with donghyuck. it was new, every time your best friend tried to introduce someone and you ignored them, they would stop but he didn't.
so one day when you were walking around the campus looking for a spot to sit and listen to some music, you saw him sitting under a tree with a laptop in his lap, as soon as he saw you, he waved his hand and motioned for you to sit down with him. and you were about to ignore him, why would you even consider another option than walking away? but that’s when you really saw him for the first time, a glimpse of sadness in his face as his smile faltered and brow furrowed.
you stood there, looking at your shoes for a few seconds, starting to wonder if you should go and sit with him, maybe give the loud and talkative boy another chance and have an actual conversation. you shook your head and then, before you would change your mind, you took decisive steps towards him and sat down beside him.
“hi,” even if you were trying to be friendly, your voice sounded monotonous, you had no idea what you were going to say to him but you were already there.
his face was adorned by a very notorious confused expression, his head was tilted and his eyes were wide open, he looked like a cute deer, “wow, you didn’t ignore me this time,” he mumbled more to himself than to you.
you looked away for a second, “yea, maybe i should apologise for that,” you nodded a couple of times before continuing, “sorry for ignoring you, that was a bit rude of me-. . .”
“a bit?” he interrupted you, raising an eyebrow while looking directly into your eyes, and even though you admit you feel bad, you still couldn’t find a reason to like him.
you opened your mouth to say it but a quick debate in your own head made you not to, “well, very rude, sorry,” it was awkward, at least for you, who has never apologised to someone for ignoring them, or at least not without being forced by your mom or jisung, “is a honest apology, don’t mean you have to accept it,” as you felt he was going to say something, you motioned your hand before quickly adding, “doesn’t mean i'm going to sit with you or talk to you, you are jisung’s friend, not mine.”
he seemed a bit taken back with your words, his eyes blinking a couple of times and his mouth opened as a barely audible ‘oh’ slipped from his lips, “can-. . . umm,” he cleared his throat, “can i ask why?”
“i don’t like you,” you simply said, not feeling the necessity of explaining your reason further, he was just not someone very likeable, even if the whole campus would disagree with you.
“oh-. . . but why? i don’t-. . . haven’t done anything to you,” it was strange, why was he so fixated on this, oh maybe he is one of those who wants everybody to like him, you thought. he was looking at you for some answer you wouldn’t give him.
you sighed, “most people would say you are nice, i don’t exactly disagree,” you shook your head, “but you are too loud,” he was listening to you carefully, “and draw too much attention,” you pointed at him, you decided to talk to him because he was alone, and everybody knows that’s unusual.
he was silent for a couple of seconds, as if he was processing your words, “i can be quiet too, you know,” he said offering you a dimple-showing smile.
you didn’t expect your reaction to be a silent laugh that escaped your lips, rolling your eyes as the words did from your tongue, “except you can’t,”and then, without waiting for him to say something, you smiled at him for the first time as you left him sitting there alone.
-
you thought that the insignificant conversation would cause him to stop being nice to you, but for some reason it seemed like he really couldn’t bear not being liked by everybody.
stubborn, that’s what jisung would call you sometimes, ‘cause you refused to give his new best friend a chance. you could name at least two reasons to not like donghyuck, yes, you can think more but he was simply not worth your time, and for you, those two were really valid.
you knew that there was an external force plotting against you, cause lately you would see donghyuck more than you would like. and of course, you didn’t need to be the smartest person in the room to know that the ‘external force’ has a shape and name, the tall couple of months younger boy, you call best friend, park jisung.
for example, for the past two months, your best friend has been inviting you to hang out, without any specific reason, not that you would complain about spending time with him. and you did notice that lately, every time you had ‘plans’ with him, donghyuck would appear out of nowhere. sometimes he would be just on his way to the same place as you, or he would also have plans with your best friend, and casually, decide to walk with you to his dorm.
that not very strategic plan, was not going to be successful, jisung is not that smart, how could he try to get you like donghyuck? it was not going to happen.
the small knowledge you had about donghyuck was learned by accident or because jisung slipped it in a conversation, but what you didn’t expect was to have something in common with him, some people would say life is full of surprises.
“jisung, you are no longer my best friend,” you said as you closed the door of his room. finding him sitting on the floor in front of his bed with a very happy donghyuck by his left side playing mario kart.
without even sparing a glance at you, he said, “oh, don’t be so dramatic.”
ignoring the ‘hi, yn’ from the other presence in the room, you sat down in his bed with a loud sigh.
two minutes later, as you saw that your best friend was winning the game, you quickly took his controller off his hands and ran out the room. a loud ‘i won’ from the older male was heard the minute you stopped at the front door.
“yn, give me back the controller.” he said, reaching at you with his hands.
you stuck out your tongue at him, hiding the controller behind your back the minute he was getting closer to you, “no, you said you were going to watch the series with me today,” you pointed at him.
“yes, but i also made plans with hyuck an-. . .” you let out a loud gasp, putting one of your hands over your chest, as donghyuck stood by the door watching the two of you.
you looked at the boy mentioned, he simply shrugged his shoulders as he stared only at you, a small hidden part of you thought that maybe he could watch the series with you two, he has to keep his mouth shut and then you would finally get jisung to watch it after two weeks of begging. “you made plans with me first!” you were about to throw a tantrum, and you would if that unwanted presence weren't there.
”let me play one last game,” you rolled your eyes, not believing a word he’s saying, “and then we’ll watch building murderers or whatever,” as you were about to make him picky promise you, donghyuck voice caught your attention.
“you want to watch only murders in the building?” he asked you, a tiny drop of genuine curiosity could be heard in his voice.
you slowly nodded, “i already watched the first season and there’s the new episodes of the second one-. . .” you stopped yourself before getting too excited about the series, “ i just want jisung to watch it an-. . .”
the taller boy interrupted you, “she wants someone to talk about it.” he said, trying, again, to take the controller out of your hands only for you to hit him in his arm before he could do it.
“i didn’t expect jan to be the killer, you know,” that was the last thing you expected the older boy to say but it made you look at him.
blinking a couple of times before turning your whole body around to talk with him, “it was so so obvious! what are you even talking about. . .”
if someone had told you that some day, you would have an interesting conversation with donghyuck, you would never believe it, but it was indeed a surprise, at least for you, having something in common to talk about with him.
-
for you, people who would try too hard to be liked by others are mostly fake and shouldn’t be trusted.
you swear you weren’t planning on eavesdropping, you just happened to be sitting there close to him and his other friends. even though you have never cared about other people’s conversation, damn not even when people talked to you.
“dude, you have to come tonight,” that characteristic ‘dude’ and the tone of the voice, you could tell it was mark. yes, you didn’t care about meeting other people but you knew all of jisung’s new friends.
“c’mon, you can watch that series later or something,” this time it was jaemin talking. as you were about to put your headphones on and just ignore the noise, mark’s voice caught your attention.
“do you really think she is going to like you just cause you watch the same show?” was the ‘she’ he was talking about, you? no, it doesn’t make any sense, why would he try so hard for you to like him? “dude yn probably doesn’t care you watched it just for her.”
you shake your head as you decided to stop listening, “dude, are you like in love?” no, it wasn’t that, it would be ridiculous for him, and honestly you didn’t care about his answer, so you got up and walked to your dorm.
you couldn’t deny how curious you were after hearing that conversation, if it was true that donghyuck watched the series just so you would stop ignoring him and have something in common, you would feel a bit weird. you really could not understand why he was trying so hard for you.
-
you can’t trust in someone who is friends to all, ‘cause that means he is actually friends to none.
yes, you may have taken the taylor swift lyric as advice, but so many people would agree with her, and you are one of them. the process of making friends involves something called ‘morality values’ and being friendly towards people who don't share the same values as you, it’s clearly someone who doesn’t have integrity. however, you do understand that there are people who are polite to others even when they don’t like them.
so there you were, narrowing your eyes, staring directly at him, some guy you don’t even know and don’t care to do so, while he was having a friendly conversation with donghyuck. you didn’t like him and in another occasion you wouldn't even acknowledge his presence but he was talking with someone who is supposed to be jisung’s friend.
you remember that day when you went to look for your best friend at the soccer field, you had plans with him but first you would see him play, he mentioned wanting you to be there supporting him, of course you said ‘no, i don’t even like sports.’ so there you were, outside the lockers waiting for him.
closing and opening the same apps to try and bare the waiting, some voices could be heard it wasn’t until you recognized jisung’s voice that you paid attention to what they were saying. ‘can you leave me alone, please’ it was your best friend, his voice was not as loud as the others but as soon as you heard it you stepped closer to the door, ‘oh, little boy is scared’ was this some kind of joke? you hoped so, ‘your girlfriend is not here, neither your boyfriend’ as you heard something that sounded like someone being punched, you quickly entered the room.
when you entered, the first thing you eyes searched for was jisung, finding him against the lockers with two boys around him, as you eyes found his, he was pleading you to leave, but that was not going to happen, “jisung,” he was clearly punched in his stomach, “move-. . .”
“yn, it’s oka-. . .” he interrupted you, not finishing his sentence as he saw you pushing the two boys. you stepped on your tiptoes to hold his face, your eyes searching for some bruise or something.
“your girlfriend came this time but-. . .” you rolled your eyes when you heard his voice, turning around to see him standing in front of you, “she won’t always be here.”
“oh, shut up,” you pushed his shoulder with one hand, as the other went to hold jisung’s hand, pulling him with you, “as if we are scared of a stupid idiot, move.”
as you were walking with jisung towards the door, you saw donghyuck, who seemed to have entered when you did.
now, you could not understand what he was thinking as he was having a friendly conversation with that boy, when it comes to jisung, everything it’s personal, so you can’t believe anyone would be his friend.
ii.
if someone asked you what is lee donghyuck in your life, you would probably say ‘a really good friend.’
the concept of ‘befriending’ consists of: acting as a friend to someone by offering help or support, for you, accepting help from someone else, is not very easy.
ever since you were a little kid, you would assure adults you could do anything on your own, it didn’t matter if you knew you could not do it, you would try to. sometimes even after you failed, you would refuse to seek help. maybe this was something you learned from your mother, she was always strong, and for you, she would do anything.
‘i am okay, i can do it’ is what you always tell yourself, you remember the first time you repeated that phrase in your head like a mantra, you were around ten years old when you got lost at a school event, your unstable breathing, your heart beating so fast in your chest, and your whole body trembling, it was the first time you had a panic attack, you don’t remember well what happened next, just a very worried teacher and a crying jisung.
you would say, that made you close yourself even more at the idea of new things, and helped you to be more observant. one perk of being able to sit down, quiet and going unnoticed, was observing other people, and in that way you can learn about them, their mannerisms, likes and dislikes, even notice little things they don’t.
for sure, you can not exactly pinpoint when you had changed your mind from ‘iugh, how can anyone be his friend’ to ‘hyuck is my friend’ but now, after observing lee donghyuck for around a year, you would say that he genuinely cares, and then acts nonchalant about it.
short version of the things you hate list: noise, people, tomatoes (for some reason) and a sad jisung. you loved your best friend and would do anything for him, even if that meant getting out of your comfort zone, so when he insisted on going to his friend’s party, you said no but when the day came, you dressed up and went to his dorm.
and he knew you like the back of his hand, parties weren’t your type of thing so he promised he would not dare to leave your side. you felt a little bit bad though, he probably wanted to go and chat with his friends or maybe participate in the games, but he was stuck at your side.
so as the twenty first minutes went by and the precious ning yizhuo came to talk to the both of you, you knew she mostly wanted to talk to jisung. and the minute you saw your best friend blushing, you felt like it was time to leave them to have time together. you may not know where to go but it didn’t matter, you were nineteen years old, you can spend at least five minutes alone at a party, right?
while they were busy talking about zodiac signs or whatever people your age used to flirt with, you excused yourself from the conversation, and left to go to a less crowded place.
except, you couldn’t find a quieter place, as you walked away from yet another room where strangers were all over each other, you felt your hands tingling and you knew you were starting to feel bad. you blinked a few times, trying to concentrate on leaving the house, but as the time passed it was getting even more difficult to breathe.
‘i’m okay, keep walking’ was the only thing you kept repeating to yourself in your mind, as you ignored the constricted feeling growing in your chest and walked through a small crowd of sweaty dancing bodies, the sensation of as if you were being choked was unbearable.
you wondered why you could not be like other people while you were concentrating in taking deep breaths to calm yourself, you don’t like being in crowded places, or being around many people. when you thought you were calming down, a strong feeling of danger clouded your mind and as the touch of something wrapped around your wrist, you became even more anxious, your instinct to hit whoever was touching you was quick.
when you turned around to hit and run from that person, you saw donghyuck standing in front of you with both hands up, worry took over his facetures. you did notice he was talking as you saw his lips were moving, but you couldn't hear anything. still you forced yourself to say, “i am okay.”
he shook his head, “you are not okay, you're shaking. what can i do? please, just let me help you." the older boy slowly stepped closer and motioned to his hand, and you for some reason you trusted him so you simply let him do whatever he was thinking of doing.
he used both of his hands to hold your face, looking at your face for a couple of seconds, he knew something was wrong. your whole body language was very clear but he needed to check if you were physically hurt, as he was checking for any wound or something alike, you finally found the strength to talk, “can-. . . i want to leave.”
before he could even react, your hand reached for his, who was still holding your face, so he smiled at you, nodding and as you were passing through a sea of bodies to get to the front door, his hold on your hand was stronger.
once you were standing outside of the party house, he waited a couple of minutes, giving you time for you to come back to your senses. the first thing you noticed the moment you calmed down, was that both of his hands were caressing yours.
“umm. . . sorry,” you cleared your throat, “thank you, donghyuck,” it was the first time calling him by his name, and it didn’t feel awkward, “you can. . . go back inside, i-. . .”
he interrupted you ”oh, the party was boring”, shaking his head, “i was on my way home,” you felt a little glad he helped you when he pulled away from you, letting your hands fall by your sides and started walking.
as he walked you home that night, talking about a new series he started watching just to distract you from your own mind, you thought that maybe his loudness wasn’t that bad. you’d like to think that was the moment you started to grow fond of him, when you started to see him as a friend.
-
since you met him, you never believed the ‘nice act’ he would put on but now, you would say he’s actually nice.
when you are stressed you tend to not eat, not because you aren’t hungry or something like that, it’s because you don’t find the time. as of now, you were starving, since you woke up this morning, you decided to spend your day studying in the campus library, it was exams week and you have a very important french history test, but you couldn’t get yourself to remember anything of what you were reading.
while you were reading the same paragraph you have been trying to memorize, someone placed a strawberry milk and a croissant in front of you.
"did you eat today?" you heard hyuck’s voice as you put the book down, he was sitting at the chair by your side while drinking an iced coffee.
you blinked a couple of times, your eyes going from him to the things he placed in front of you, “i. . .- thank you,” a grateful smile took over your facetures.
“it’s just cause jaemin canceled on me, that was for him,” he shrugged his shoulders as he reached to open the milk for you, another ‘thank you’ left your lips before taking a bite of the croissant.
he took the book you were reading, acting as if it was interesting but as you drank your strawberry milk you saw through his ‘nonchalant act’, no one believes that when he is the most chalant person ever.
-
even someone who’s used to do everything alone, there were times when you couldn’t like when you are at the supermarket and you want something for the top shelf, when you are peacefully living and out nowhere you see a cockroach or when you are so sick you can’t leave your dorm and buy medicine. at times like these, there was only one person you would ask for help, your best friend.
you would say there’s a couple of things worse than being sick, that is having a flu when you are on your period and on top of that not having any medicine, so you did the only thing you could, you texted jisung so he could do it for you.
“holy shit,” oh god, there was that loud voice again, “i thought you were dead! never do that to me again!” you heard hyuck’s voice as you opened your dorm door, with a blanket over your shoulders as you hugged yourself.
“don’t,” you said as you felt like your head was going to explode, “leave me alone,” you let out a dramatic cry, “i thought you were ji,” as you were to close the door, he gently pushed you away so he could enter the dorm.
he put his hands over your shoulders, “sung told me to bring you the medicine,” as he made you walk to your bed and lay down, “i. . .- there’s also soup, really efficient my grandma made it,” you looked at him as he was taking the things out of the bag and putting it over your nightstand.
“ji? why did he send you, i asked him to do it,” you said closing your eyes, clearing your sore throat, “also. . . your grandma?”
he shook his head, handing you the medicine and a water bottle, “yea, my brother is also sick so. . . just take your medicine, “ he said as he opened the bottle, “i have to go, text me if you need anything else.”
that moment, as he left your dorm, you couldn’t even express how grateful you felt to have him in your life, he was indeed a good friend. you would say, since that day, he became the second person you’d trust the most and would ask him for something if jisung couldn’t do it.
-
for you, changing your mind about certain things is impossible, so you still couldn’t understand why he was friendly with everybody. while being his friend, you noticed how he always try to evade conflicts with other people and would just let them walk over him sometimes.
the second you found out why he tries so hard to be liked, you knew it was your turn to care about him.
getting to know lee donghyuck was way different than how you expected, since the minute you met him, you thought he was like an open book and that he was easy to read, but turns out he wasn’t. knowing he was the type of kid who was always left out and hearing him say he never wanted to be alone again, you decided you were always going to be his friend, kind of like you are with jisung.
“is now a bad time to tell you i’m claustrophobic?” you heard hyuck’s whisper as you were peeking through the closet door, his breathing hitting the back of your head while he was nervously fidgeting with his hands.
you turned around to look at him, not minding how close you were, “and what-. . . god,” you were never again helping him to prank someone, “just-. . . here, hold my hand,” you didn’t know how to help him, so you extended your hand hoping it would help him somehow, he gently took it and started playing with your fingers.
oh, to understand how you got into that situation, it was because you received an “i need help, 911, someone help me,” text from him. you should have known better after he told you jisung refused to help, so there you were in mark’s closet hiding from him, because hyuck’s great idea of a prank did not go well.
as you were thinking about a way to distract your friend from panicking, you laughed at your own joke before saying it to him, “are you finally coming out the closet? i knew you liked mark but you didn’t need to make it so literally.”
“he. . .-” before he could finish saying anything, the closet door was opened, mark staring at both of you with a not surprised expression on his face, “why are you guys in the closet,”
“so. . .- you know i am such a great friend and i was helping him with his claustrophobia,” you said letting hyuck’s hand go and stepping out the closet, “as his roommate you should kno. . .”
“so it has nothing to do with the box of fake snakes that is on my bed,” he interrupted you, pointing out the box.
you closed your mouth, pushing your friend towards mark, “his idea, i have nothing to do with that,” you quickly walked out their shared apartment, as you motioned your hands as goodbye.
-
when you celebrate your birthday it always goes the same way: jisung buys a cake, sings happy birthday, sometimes a gift and that’s it. and to celebrate his birthday, it’s also the same, sometimes a diner with his other friends but nothing too big. now that you have another friend, there’s another type of birthday but there’s a big difference this time, he does like big celebrations.
so there you were with your best friend, at donghyuck and mark’s shared apartment, many balloons scattered all over the floor as you guys were thinking about how to decorate the living room. you are not used to doing all of this, but here you were going over the top with a birthday party.
“maybe we should move the table to. . .-” you stopped talking as you heard the front door opening, you saw jisung with a panicked expression over his face before turning around and finding donghyuck’s eyes looking at the balloons and then to the both of you.
“you guys. . .” his voice full of emotion as he opened his arms waiting for a group hug, you pushed jisung towards him, there was no way you were going to hug hyuck when he was all sentimental.
“why are you here? jaemin was supposed to keep you busy” you said, walking to sit on the couch, as hyuck squeezed the hell out of your best friend. you were going to kill jaemin, he had one job and it was the easiest! never again including his other friends in a surprise.
even though he was very happy, you were sulking because your surprise had failed, a pout adorning your face as you were sitting there listening to hyuck expressing how grateful he was to have both of you as his friends.
-
who would have thought that after two years of knowing donghyuck he would became the second person you trust the most, you would still get annoyed by his presence sometimes, but it was normal, it would happen with jisung too, so being friends with him for around a year made you realise how wrong you were when you met him, you would say that now, you can understand why anyone would be his friend.
the cold breeze made you shiver as you stepped out jisung’s dorm building, hyuck by your side as he was going to walk you back to your dorm, your best friend wanted to ‘celebrate’ your friendship and decided to make a home cooked meal to do that, but after trying his food, you decided you would never let him near a kitchen again.
“oh god, i could sue him for food poisoning,” you groaned, even though you tried only a bite and then decided to buy some pizza, you could still smell the horrible pasta he had made.
“how can someone mess up cooking pasta?” he said laughing and it was true, cooking pasta is one of the easiest things ever.
“it’s jisung we are talking about, hyuck,” his nickname was barely a whisper as you felt his hand gently take around your wrist for a couple of seconds, guiding you to the other side of the sidewalk. you felt your mind going blank for a second, before looking directly at him, “i thought you were mean for a long time, you know,” you confessed, taking him by surprise.
“mean?” he let out a barely audible laugh, “really?” you could see he was taken aback by your words, but he still looked at you and smiled.
“you were too nice with everyone,” you shrugged your shoulders and rolled your eyes as he whispered ‘most people are nice’, “no, but for me you were so fake, hated that jisung was close to you.”
“oh? that sounds like you were jealous,” he said, getting close to your face to say the last word, “do- you. . .” cleared his throat, hesitated to say what was on his mind, “do you like him?”
“jisung? oh god no,” you fake vomited as you shook your hands, “he’s like a brother to me, you know. . . and no, i was not jealous,” you were about to hit him in his arm but he was faster than you and moved before you could, “it’s just. . . i remember you were nice to that idiot.”
he stopped walking, staring at you with his head tilted, “who?”
“you know, the one that was bullying jisung,” you said, stopping in front of him, even though you were close friends now,and jisung never cared about that, you did, and it definitely bothered you.
“oh,” it was barely audible but you were close enough to hear it, “yn, i-. . . i was not being nice with him,” you opened your mouth to say something, he was not going to take you for crazy, but he quickly said, “i told the dean about it, so he was going to be suspended,” oh, so that’s what the conversation was about, “he was trying to convince me to talk with jisung. . . and i was not letting him get close to sung,” you really misjudged him, “sung would probably forgive him or something.”
you definitely knew you should apologize to him, because two years ago you were the rudest person to him, the sweetest person who could ever exist. you were grateful that donghyuck was part of jisung’s life. . . and yours.
iii.
lately you have been thinking that lee donghyuck may be the best thing that has ever happened to you.
the concept of ‘best thing’ does not exactly imply someone, is just something that’s amazing, innovative, or extremely useful, also could be say one of the greatest inventions or ideas. for you, hyuck is amazing, and that is no good.
it’s been years, four to be more exact, since you saw donghyuck for the first time in the cafeteria and many things have changed.
for example, your best friend left the college dorm and moved into hyuck and mark’s apartment, you would describe them as ‘dumb, dumber and even more dumber’ trio, everyone is surprised when you tell ‘em that dumb is hyuck, and the other two are mark and jisung.
them being roommates made you, naturally, interact more with mark and their other friends, they weren’t that bad, except when they are all together because they would be really loud and that’s when you leave, too much noise for you. so, you would say, you are more social now.
also, you are closer to donghyuck now, sometimes jisung would joke about how you have forgotten about him and often says something like ‘hyuck replaced me’ and has now taken his place as your best friend. it’s not totally a lie, recently you have been spending more time with hyuck and you would say that the dynamic between the both of you has shifted a little ‘cause you have started to pay more attention to him, and you would say there are three things that you have noticed, first of all he knows you better than anyone else, and he would probably say the same to you.
there are some things you think are never going to change, like how uncomfortable you feel in crowded places, it’s exhausting. still, you would try to have a good time with your friends. it was mark’s 25th birthday and of course your friends wanted to celebrate with more than a dinner, donghyuck did everything to convince you to go, mentioning how you could leave early if you wanted, so there you were at an amusement park, the friend group consisting of mark, jaemin, chenle, hyuck, jisung, ning and, of course, you.
you can’t deny you have had a great time, going from one ride to another, laughing at hyuck for being scared of heights while he pouts over mark calling him ‘a baby’ and you saying ‘i think i’m going to stay here, i’m tired, you guys go’ just to not let hyuck wait for the group alone. around four hours later, it was finally lunch time and not only were most of you starving, you guys were also tired, your feet hurt from the waiting lines and the walking all around the park. so after eating the group decided to separate for an hour to do whatever everyone wanted before sticking to the itinerary chenle had made.
mark and jaemin wanted to try some food they had seen when they arrived at the park, chenle wanted to buy some things for his partner, jisung and ning wanted to do some couple’s things you don’t even remember. you thought about sitting on a bench and just stare at nothing for an hour, but donghyuck had different plans, he dragged you to a photobooth with the excuse of ‘we have been friends for years and barely any pic together’ then, he bought ice cream and you finally had your ‘staring at nothing’ time.
it was nice being with hyuck in silence, while you were people watching, he was on his phone doing something you don’t even know what. you would say that it had only passed fifteen minutes when the older boy stood up in front of you and muttered ‘let’s go’. as soon as you stood, donghyuck started walking, not without making sure you were close enough to not get lost in the crowd. when passing a busy crowd, you got closer enough to even touch hyuck’s back, you felt like holding your breath until you saw jisung waving his hand at the both of you.
the group was at the waiting line of the racing cars, as soon as you both joined the group, you heard mark’s voice “yo,” he said, a little too loud, “are you guys, like, finally together?” what is he even talking about, you must have been clearly confused as ning pointed out your hands and said, “you guys are holding hands.”
oh, it must have happened when you were walking past that busy crowd, your hands must have been entwining on their own, how could you not notice that? you stared at your hands for a second before hearing jaemin say, “we have enough with ning and jisung, no more couples,” you quickly let go of his hand, as hyuck cleared his throat, “it’s not like that, she’s so dumb i thought i could lose her in the crowd.”
yeah, sure, “why are you both blushing then,” chenle pointed out making you turn to look at hyuck, his cheeks were indeed covered with a light pink blush, it was new, at least for you, you shook your head ignoring whatever they were saying and walked to jisung who elbowed you while smiling, with a ‘something happened?’ in his eyes, you motioned your hand telling him to ‘stop’ with your eyes.
…
“i told you that you’d have a great time,” hyuck’s voice could be heard over the phone as you were listening to his voice note, while you were talking off your makeup. you were finally at home and even though you’d usually wouldn’t answer the messages after spending the whole day with them, but right now you were more than happy to be talking with him.
“oh, shut up,” you started the voice note playfully, “it was nice tho,” you said as you were fiddling with the bottom of your shirt, “thank u for inviting me.”
you decided to take a quick shower before continuing to talk with hyuck, around ten minutes later you walked out the bathroom and went directly to check your phone, not stopping the smile forming on your face as soon as you saw a message from him.
he only sends voice notes, he barely texts but when you heard the “always, yn,” you felt nervous, his voice sounded different as he was saying your name. you stared at the screen for a couple of minutes, writing a ‘it’s late, night!” text, and laying on your bed.
not even five seconds later he had already answered you, with another voice note, you took a deep breath before pressing play “good night, angel,” your mind went blank for a minute, it was the first time he called you like that, what is wrong with this man today? you asked yourself as you put your phone on your nightstand.
you closed your eyes trying to calm yourself and stop the smile that was forming on your face as you realised that suddenly you wanted to fall in love.
in love with lee donghyuck.
-
there’s always a time of the year when you would feel bad, not physically, but mentally. you are not very sure what caused it this time, maybe it was that your grades have dropped down and that caused you to be even more stressed. it could also be that you were needing time to understand your feelings, realising that you may like donghyuck was something you were trying to forget, those feelings weren’t necessary, he was your friend, nothing more.
if you checked your phone you would probably see all the unanswered messages you have, from your mom, jisung and hyuck, who has also tried to call you but you weren’t going to answer. even though you would say you were feeling better than the day before, you still decided to skip the only morning class you had.
you wish you could skip the rest of the day, but french history is the only one you don’t care about. so for you to say you were surprised to see hyuck passing back and forth in front of your door at noon, was an understatement.
before you could say anything, he stood in front of you, “please don’t shut me out right now,” you were taken aback, his voice sounded like pleading, you stare at him for a second, noticing a little frown on his face, his dishevelled hair, that you can imagine it’s for passing his hand through it several times.
“i-. . . what are you talking about?” you asked as you closed the door behind you, nervously playing with your finger avoiding his eyes.
he got closer to you, making you step back until your back was touching your dorm door, “i was giving you time ‘cause i thought you were avoiding me for. . .” he shook his head, letting out a breathy laugh, “but, jisung is also worried, you don’t answer him either.”
“i’m okay,” you simply said, shaking your head before gently moving past him, trying to go to your class.
his hand around your wrist made you stop, “don’t lie to me, yn,” he made you turn around, this time your eyes did met, “c’mon, what’s going on,” it took you a few seconds before you actually told him how you were feeling, avoiding the ‘i may like you more than a friend’ part. he listened attentively, not interrupting you once and when you finished talking, his arms quickly surrounded you, hugging you tightly.
and that’s when you thought, hyuck is your friend, and you know that as long as you have him, you will always know what a real friend is.
and you refused to ruin that.
-
of all the five languages of love, you would say you are good in. . . none, and for you, to be loved and cherished out loud is what donghyuck deserves.
since you met him, you knew he was a loud person and now you can say, he is a loud lover. and not even in terms of romance, he’s always letting his friends know how loved and appreciated they are, celebrating every little thing they archived. as of right now, he was walking you home after a friendly hang out to celebrate ‘jisung’s first time cooking something edible’ it was stupid but he insisted on going to the mall and celebrating.
you felt his hand on yours as you were crossing the street, you ignore it, thinking he would let it go once you reached the other side but he didn’t, “just to clarify,” he cleared his throat making you look at him, “me holding your hand doesn’t mean anything,” he moved your holding hands at your eye level, “not in that way, unless. . . you want it to mean something, i don’t mind, that’s cool” you bite the inside of your cheek to not laugh at him, still you couldn’t stop the giggles that escaped from your lips.
you’d feel totally happy if it weren’t for that small voice inside your head you were trying to block out, but the thought of knowing you weren’t meant to love him, was ringing too loud in your mind. you wish you could be as loud as he is, that you could make him feel loved like he makes you feel.
you realised you were too deep in your thoughts the second he squeezed your hand, noticing you were right outside your dorm building. you blinked a couple of times before looking at him, who was already smiling at you, a light pink blush adorning his cute cheeks. you stood on your tiptoes to put your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, it was the first time you initiated a hug, he let out a breathy laugh.
“oh, this is new,” he said as his arms went to hold you by your waist, he hid his face on your neck and you could feel his smile. but you couldn't feel as happy as him, you were hoping he wouldn’t notice it, for you, this hug felt like the last one. “i’m not going anywhere,” he joked, you quickly pulled back, he let out a barely audible sound of disappointment but still smiled at you, holding your hand again.
you reciprocated his smile, how could you not when he looked so happy, and that got you wondering, not only you were loved by donghyuck you also have a really good group of friends, do you really deserve to be treated like that by them? that thought was too loud to ignore.
iv.
lee donghyuck is the best thing that has ever happened to you.
the concept of ‘worthy of something’ may be complicated, you have to be good enough to deserve something, or that’s what you think. for you, a person worthy of love is hyuck; someone who’s kind, understanding, genuine and caring and you may have ruined it
you were taught that to have something special, you have to deserve it. once, when you were ten years old, you went home with a shiny bracelet some kid had gifted you on the playground, it was your first time playing with that little boy and for some reason he gave you the bracelet, you liked it, how could you say ‘no’?
but your mom thought differently, when you went to the kitchen and excitedly told her the story, you remember her words very clearly, ‘you don’t deserve to have that’ then she made you go to the park the next day to find that kid and give it back to him.
since then, every time you are buying groceries, clothes or anything, those words repeat in your head. so you avoid expensive or shiny things, because you can’t think of a moment when you have been deserving of something good. you would say that’s your excuse for why you have been donghyuck, he is too good for you and you don’t deserve it.
as the cold of the night made you shiver, you could be found all curled up in your bed staring at your phone screen. it was a friday night and no one was surprised you texted ‘i have the flu’ in the groupchat for the third time in a row, when they were making plans. as much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t stop thinking about him, feeling sad while looking at the few photos you have of him on your phone.
you had a movie playing to make some background noise and you couldn’t believe there was a time you hated his loudness, ‘cause now, you can’t bear this silence.
as you cross upon a video you don’t even remember you had recorded, it was the week jisung had moved into their shared apartment, you were lying by his side on his bed. filming the both of you eating some chocolate cookies he had offer you, when out of nowhere you hear donghyuck’s voice ‘i’m going to kill you’ you turn the camera and a few seconds later, he makes his appearance, he was wearing a cat pyjamas and with his dishevelled hair falling over his eyed made him look so cute, ‘you ate my cookies’ he yelled as he pointed at both of you.
you giggle as you watch the video a couple of times more, pausing the video to stare at him for a minute, how could he be so cute, you wanted to cry. you were resisting the urge to text him, it wouldn’t be fair to him, you were the one who was avoiding him and you knew he was with the boys at some bar, mark had posted a picture with ‘the bros finally together’.
you let your mind wander around the thought of hyuck tonight, with his oversized grey hoodie looking so so handsome, you pouted at the thought of taking care of him tonight, he is a very clingy drunk. but that was destroyed when out of nowhere, your brain decided to include a realistic moment of a girl flirting with your hyuck.
you shook your head, trying to get that image out of your head, you decided to keep watching the videos you have, this one was one of your favorites, you were filming your friends.
jaemin was trying to drink a beer in one go, mark yelling ‘dude’, jisung and ning clapping while laughing, and chenle rolling his eyes. you turned the camera to film yourself at the same time hyuck gently scooted closer to you and gently rested his head on your shoulder taking a peek at your phone screen, you smiled as you saw him realise you were making a video and he was in it.
you let out a deep breath as you closed your eyes, you could feel you were about to cry but you don’t deserve to when it was all your fault. ‘you are so stupid’ you told yourself, mentally scolding you for having done what you did. you had convinced yourself that you ran away because you care so much about him.
a gasp escapes your lips the moment your phone vibrates on your hands, seeing ‘mark’ on your screen was. . . weird, he was the last one you thought would call you, like, ever. your mind was filled with one hundred bad things that could’ve happened, picking up the call immediately.
“mark? is something wrong?” you asked, getting ready to change your pyjamas.
“yo-. . . yn!” he was sober and didn’t sound like something was wrong, that calmed yourself a little, still you were standing in front of your closet, “chenle stop scaring jaemin!” he yelled, oh, they were really drunk, “can you do me a favor?” you weren’t sure if he was talking to you, “yn, you hear me?” oh, he was, you let out a positive sound, “can you come to our apartment? i know it's late but. . . chenle!” you heard some sobbing in the back, maybe it was jaemin since chenle was scaring him.
“mark?” you asked as you were putting some hoodie on, “for what?”
“oh, sorry, it’s just, yn, i think,” mark was interrupted by a very drunk hyuck ‘yn? she’s talking to you?’ oh, the sobbing was him not jaemin, ‘i want to talk to her’ you heard what sounded like him trying to snatch the phone from mark’s hand, “dude, wait, yn please, help me.” he immediately hung up.
. . .
you understood why mark needed help, as soon as you arrived to their apartment complex, you weren’t even too close but you could see jaeming running away from chenle who was chasing him with. . . a stick in his hands, jisung was nowhere to be seen so you could assume he was sober and at his girlfriend place, as you were walking towards a very stressed mark trying to calm down a crying hyuck, you felt like crying too.
“yn!” mark yelled in relief as soon as he saw you standing in front of him, you gave him a lip-tight smile, “i have to take those two home,” he pointed out chenle who was now being chased by jaemin, “can you please take care of hyuck?” he didn’t even wait for you to answer him, he immediately went to take the stick from jaemin’s hands.
kneeling down in front of hyuck, who was sitting on the floor staring at nothing, lost in thought, “hey,” you whispered, making him look up, as soon as his eyes met yours, your heart broke.
his eyes were red, probably because he has been crying, his nose was tinted by a light shade of red was his hands reached to touch you, “yn,” a couple of giggles escaped his lips, “you feel. . . too real this time,” he was talking slowly, a sign he was drunk.
“so-sorry,” he said as his hands were touching your face, “i made you uncomfortable,” you tilted your head to the side, confused by his words, “you don’t- i like you and not you,” oh, he thinks you are avoiding him because you don’t feel the same, “let me be with you,” tears were starting to form in his eyes, “we can be friends,” you quickly holded his face wiping the tears of his face, “we can. . . i get over- over those feelings,” he hiccuped, “i want- just. . . be by your side.”
even though you were trying not to, you ended up crying with his words, “hyuck,” this time, it was him wiping the tears off your face, “let’s go inside, it’s. . . you are shivering,” you say taking his hand to get up and enter the building.
as soon as you stepped inside the elevator, your breath hitched when you felt his hands around your waist pulling you closer to him, your back hitting his chest and he took the opportunity to hide his face in the crock of your neck. yet, when you hear him sobbing again, you bite the inside of your cheek, were you really that bad to him?
opening the door of his apartment, he was still back hugging you, muttering some nonsense you couldn’t understand. you sighed as you entered his room, hearing a sound of disappointment when you took his hands off of you, turning around to face him, “let’s get you ready for bed, umm?” you were holding his hands.
he nodded, walking toward his bed and sitting there with you between his legs, “i don’t want to,” he said trying to keep his eyes open, you could tell he was tired, you let go one of his hands to play with his hair.
“aren’t you tired?” you asked, tilting your head with a smile forming on your lips.
he shook his head, putting his arms around your waist, “i just,” he nuzzled his face against your stomach, “know. . . you may not be here when i wake up. . .” he looked up and you could see he finally closed his eyes, “this is a dream. . . a good one,” he looked so cute with a pout adorning his lips. “i get to see u in those now. . .” oh, you were going to cry.
you decided to try to get him to change his clothes, you knew if he continued talking you were going to cry, again. it took you around twenty long minutes to get him to change into his pyjamas and lay in his bed. you thought how ironic it was that earlier that night you were thinking about taking care of his drunk self, and now, that’s what you were doing.
you couldn’t resist yourself as you kissed his forehead quickly, he looked so cute when he slept, his hair falling above his eyes, a pout on his lips, one of your hands being held by him while the other played with his hair. after everything he told you tonight, it was hard to leave.
as you pulled your hand away from his gently, getting up to leave the apartment, your eyes started to water, why must you always ruin every good thing that happens to you?
v.
you have been living under what it seems like a never ending dark shadow but lee donghyuck is the light that fills your word.
the concept of ‘love’ you like the most is the philosophical one, that it is more than a feeling. you agree with plato and aristotle, love it’s a bond between people who admire one another and therefore choose to support one another over time. in that way, you would say love isn’t totally out of your control. for you, it was clear now that donghyuck has chosen to love you.
you started to feel curious about love when you were a teenager, it was mostly because everyone around you was obsessed with it, even jisung. you remember how excited he was when he told you about a girl he liked back then, and you couldn’t understand it at first.
mostly because you only knew what platonic love was, you would say at that moment it was the only one you cared about, because that was what you felt towards jisung. but deep down, you were genuinely curious of how romantic love feels like.
you have never been good at self expression, you tend to bury your feelings and never act on them, you avoid situations where you have to talk about how you feel, that’s how you have always been. even with jisung, who has been by your side all your life, you would always have a disgusted expression on your face every time he told you how much he appreciates you in his life.
for you, park jisung, is the only person in the world whom you allow to help you to understand your feelings, and whom you actually listen and do as he says, that’s why when you called him a random midnight ‘just to talk’ he was surprised to say at least. he didn’t even interrupted you once you started to explain everything to him, from when you started to like his best friend and how your mind convinced you that you didn’t deserve him, to how you broke his heart and he probably hates you now.
even though you knew he wanted to scold you for how stupid you are, his words made you tear up, ‘i’m glad you trust me enough, I've been waiting for you to talk to me ever since that day when we were sixteen, remember? the only time i saw you crying, never knew why. . . yn, yes donghyuck loves loudly, but that doesn’t mean you don’t know how to love, you just do it quietly and that’s okay.’ it was then, the second time jisung ever heard you cry, ‘you think just ‘cause you never say it we don’t know? your action can tell, yn, and also, you do deserve good things, i can repeat that until you forget your mom’s voice. . . now, i can’t tell you what he feels or not, but if you want to apologize you can do it, that’s your choice, it was you who made those bad decisions then and it’s you who is apologising now.”
your best friend's voice echoed in your head as you were walking through the aisles of the grocery store, waiting for the rain to slow down. you were seriously thinking about going to his apartment, preparing a speech in your head to apologise to him even though you feel it is already late.
you remember the last text message he sent you, ‘sorry for last night, won’t bother you again, stay safe’ it had already been a week since you last saw him and for you that text was his way of saying goodbye. it took you a couple of deep breaths, as you thought that you should be brave for him this time, cause now, you only want to love and cherish donghyuck for the rest of your life.
you didn’t care that it was raining, you had to apologize to donghyuck now because maybe you won’t feel as brave later. leaving the grocery store even though you had no umbrella, you decided to go walking to the guy’s shared apartment, it was closer to where you were.
as soon as the first raindrop touched your skin, you shivered, your bones feeling the cold of the night.
. . .
you had taken this decision without thinking it too much, you realised when you arrived at their apartment complex, you didn’t have your phone with you so there you were, waiting for someone to appear so you could enter the building. you were standing there, soaked in the rain, with a bag full of snacks, “oh, dear,” you heard a voice behind you making you turn around, “what are you doing here?” you smile when you see the old lady who lives next to the boys, “why didn’t you call your boyfriend?” she asked, opening the door.
“my boyfriend?” you said a little confused, as you helped the old lady with her own bags.
she nodded while walking with you to the elevator, “yes, donghyuck is your boyfriend or not?” she tilted her head confused as she pressed the bottom of which floor you were going to, “he told me that.”
“oh,” you nodded, “yes, it’s just that i left my phone and. . . that’s why i was waiting there,” you gave her a lip-tight smile, having someone think that he is your boyfriend makes you feel so giggly for some reason.
as you both say your goodbyes, you took a deep breath, knocking on the boys’ apartment. you started to feel nauseous as you were waiting for someone to open the door, your mind racing and making up scenarios in which he lets you know he hates you and never wants to see you again.
you were so lost in your own thoughts you didn’t notice mark had opened the door, “dude. . . are you ok?” you blinked a couple of times, meeting mark’s confused eyes, “hyuck” he yells as he looks around.
a couple of seconds later, you heard his voice, “why are you call-. . .yn,” you were standing there, frozen, not knowing what to say. the moment he realised you were soaking, he rushed to the door, “yn,” he said pushing mark who simply said ‘dude’ and walked away, “you are shivering, here, take. . . this jacket.”
you let out a laugh as you see a big red jacket he gently put around your shoulders, you knew it was jisung’s, “sorry for. . -”
he interrupts you, pulling you inside the apartment, “let’s get you warm first.”
“no,” you said motioning your hand, “let me talk,” he nodded at you, “i want to apologise. . . i have been horrible to you, can’t understand how you can be nice to me right now,” you felt your eyes watering, “i hurt you, i have been rude to you since the day i met you. . . and shit i don’t deserve to be here talking to you,” a sob escaped between your lips, “but, i want to. . . let you know that even though i’m a hard person to love, you have made me feel loved every day since i met you,” you used the back of your hand to wipe away the tears, “and. . . if you let me, i want to make you feel loved too,” your eyes looked up searching for his, but he was looking at the floor, “cause you are the best thing that ever happened to me,” at this point you knew you had to look pathetic, you were horribly crying, “you have always been nice to me, gentle, caring, understanding and. . .” it was hard to say those eight letters when you felt like he didn’t wanted to hear them, “can i love you?”
as soon as those words escaped your lips, his eyes met yours and the sight of him crying broke your heart, you stepped closer to him, hesitation in every step you took, “yn,” hearing him saying your name with a smile on his face, made you smile too, throwing your arms around his neck the moment he said those eight letters to you, “i love you,” he said as you felt his hands around your waist pulling your closer to him, not caring about getting his clothes wet, “and is the easiest thing in the word.”
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! i’ve been very inactive here but i do have a few fics coming out soon (do not trust me) anyway, hope everyone is having a great day!
lee donghyuck — or rather, haechan, talks a big game. much bigger than he can actually bite. upon being asked to bring his imaginary girlfriend to the 127 summer bash, he has no choice but to ask for help from the only girl he knows — you, his high school ex-girlfriend.
genre. exes to fake dating to lovers. college au.
pairing. haechan x fem!reader.
others. hyuck is a frat boy but really, he's just a loser. barely has any experience but he likes talking big. never really got over his first love. onriku mentioned and anton.
note. updates every monday & thursday.
playlist.
taglist (open!) comment / send an ask to be added.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 'RULE ONE consider everything an experiment.'
you can't risk losing in love again, doesn't matter how perfect the person in front of you seems to be. however, when a complete stranger who happens to be a bit cute practically begs you to be part of a project for his psychology class, your lips seem to move before your brain can even process the words that left his and then you were trapped in a classroom full of people you didn't even know — in the name of science.
contains ! neuroscience professor! winwin, fem!reader, journalist!reader, dreamies appearances, lots of psychological facts (google is my source don't come at me if its false), a bit of a slowburn, lots of food mentions, some comedy attempts as always, don’t think there is any use of ‘yn’, a very detailed make out scene, mention of alcohol and getting drunk, cursing, and the usual: fluff, angst.
wc ! 15.5k (i’m so sorry)
‣ quiet please, experiment in progress !
week one, monday at 2 pm - introduction.
⠀ LOVE (n.) an intense feeling of deep affection.
love often feels unexplainable, leading humans to try and describe it in philosophy, poetry, paintings, songs — anything, really, you name it. but the truth is that there are a series of chemical reactions taking place between the brain and the body, so, yes, love is a science.
let's define love non-scientifically first, which can be a bit different for every person. love is not reasonably operationalizeable, for example, affection can be the number of times one partner finds themselves thinking of the other. or the times one partner initiates physical contact; kisses, hugs, hand holding.
that being said, romantic love boils down into three categories: lust, attraction, and attachment. each category releases a different set of hormones in the brain. lust releases testosterone and estrogen, while attraction, dopamine, serotonin and norepinephrine — causing you to feel happy and comfortable, and then, attachment, releases oxytocin and vasopressin.
and not to crush your romantic helpless souls, but there is a formula for love. however, there is a main mystery yet to be undone and that is the concept of 'good chemistry'.
the very well-known 'spark' between two people upon first meeting, that undeniable pull towards the other, an instant connection, a feeling you can't explain. even though many people believe we can build chemistry based on intellectual stimulation, by laughter and shared interests.
the first ever interaction between two people determines in less than an hour, the type of relationship that will be pursued, really, in just five minutes you can evaluate compatibility.
“—hence why we are here to test it out.”
oh. oh. so that's why you are here, to be the lab rat.
you turn your head, widen blinking eyes scanning the whole room full of faces you have never seen before which, to be honest, you are glad, it would be embarrassing if any of your acquaintances were here. your attention goes back to the young man who dragged you here, taking a seat in front of you and offering you a warm smile as your eyes met for just a mili-second.
“we met on my way here,” he pointed to you and then himself, “i asked–”
you interrupt him, whispering under your breath, “you begged.”
and he did hear you, he was the only one close enough to hear it, still, he continued talking, “if she could spare me thirty minutes of her time and she kindly said yes.”
“i said, okay, and you didn't even let me finish the sentence,” you add, and again, you are ignored by him.
“the interaction was less than two minutes,” where he was down on his knees, saying please on repeat, “so, in the next three minutes, i am going to test my way of creating a connection with a complete stranger.”
he sets the timer, before focusing on you, his full attention on you. and so the games begin.
a smile pulled at the corner of his lips, his eyes bored into yours as if somehow he could hear your inner voice, analysing every single movement you make. “your necklace is cute,” he says, pointing to the pendant that you have been fidgeting with all this time, “is that. . . some kind of fruit?”
you stop, dropping your hands in your lap, clearing your throat as you nod slowly, “yes. . . a strawberry.”
“oh, so you are full of love and happiness.”
blinking, you tilt your head toward the people watching the two of you for a second, your lips slightly parted in confusion. “i— thank you?” you sounded unsure, “whatever that means.”
it was merely a whisper but of course he had heard it, and it seemed to be a bit funny to him. you watched as he threw his head back, a genuine quiet laugh escaping his lips. “that is what strawberries symbolises; passion, desire, affection, also sharing one is seen as a gesture of intimacy, with a legend suggesting that two people who share one will fall in love.”
“oh, of course you knew what fruit it was,” you squinted your eyes at him while you pointed an accusative finger towards him, “are you trying to flirt with me? not working.”
he squinted his eyes back at you, “you could say that, yes, but it still made you smile.”
and the moment those words leave his mouth, you realise that he is right and somewhere in between that comment and now, you have been smiling.
you blink, the smile adorning your lips quickly disappears, “it doesn’t mean anything,” you say with brows furrowed as you wet your lips.
“you are right, it doesn’t,” he frowns, directing his attention towards his hands for a few seconds, “but for some reason you haven’t left yet.”
opening your mouth to say something, you are interrupted by his voice, “you do find me interesting,” he glances at the timer as he talks, “and it does means something to you,” you want to protest, say that he is saying bullshit and that he failed to do whatever he intended to prove, which would be a lie but he quickly added:
“i’m not saying that you are interested in me, no, you are interested in the weird, curious facts i have been telling you since we met about thirty minutes ago.”
you break the eye contact that you two have had during the whole conversation this time, taking a quick breath, “fine, i’m curious about what project you had going on that you begged me, a stranger, to come with you.”
he presses his lips into a thin line, refusing to take a look at the other people in the room, “to be honest, you—. . .”
and then, the timer goes off, interrupting him in the middle of his sentence and leaving you with curiosity over what he was going to say. he smiles at you, bowing his head slightly as he mouths a ‘thank you’ only for you to hear it, standing up from the chair in front of you before turning his whole attention to the other people in the room.
⠀ LEMON PIE (n.) a sweet and tangy dessert pie with a lemon-based filling.
a fresh citrus scent mixed with an undertone of sweetness filled your nostrils, immediately catching your attention and appetite. it doesn’t take you long to notice where it was coming from, your brows raising slightly in curiosity as your eyes stay focused on the movements of the interesting stranger.
his hands moved swiftly as he cut the pie in pieces, talking about something you weren’t even listening to, too focused on his actions instead.
you would say that it was strange, indeed, the way that you have been feeling mesmerised by the young man who — for all that you know, could be a pathological liar, a serial killer, a cult leader, or even worse, a scorpio man.
as you try to find a logical explanation of why you let a total stranger drag you into a university building, you only realise that you should be more careful from now on, yes, even though you don't think, not even a little bit, that you are currently in danger.
perhaps the coral blue shirt he was wearing is the reason why your brain didn't scream at you to run the second he talked to you, it probably made you feel warmth, calm. you remember reading about color psychology somewhere, scrolling on instagram, maybe. or, his stupid cute face, even so you would never admit out loud, not because it is embarrassing or anything. but you dare to say, the way his eyes were smiling at you, did not exactly radiate distrust to you.
in the same precise manner he is doing right now as he hands you a piece of pie, along with a small bag you couldn't see what was inside.
“thank you,” and you watch as his lips start moving, slowly blinking, your eyes going from his face to the things he had placed in front of you. “i wanted to cause an impression, is the first day and—.”
his tone was quiet and soft, a bit different from the one he uses when he teaches, and when he’s begging, so you force yourself to actually listen to his words instead of the voices in your head fighting over if it was really the coral blue or not, you do support the one that says it is, though.
“—so thank you, really, not everyone would follow a weird stranger,” you nod your head as he talks, somehow agreeing with his words, “that says random facts five seconds into your—. . . oh,” he interrupts himself, his eyes widening and his lips parted slightly forming an ‘o’, “right, i’m— my name is sicheng, nice to meet you.”
he extends his hand to you, waiting for you to shake it, a lip-tight smile on his face as he waits patiently.
you blink, repeatedly, processing his words while you stare at him for a long second. you weren’t sure what you expected when you heard the words i need a stranger for my class please come with me, but if someone asked you, it was not this. you thought it was some student who left his assignment at the last minute, not a cute young teacher.
he tilts his head to the side, his eyes never leaving your face, and that small gesture gets you out of your mind, quickly realising he’s waiting for you to say something. “yea, it’s okay,” clearing your throat as your eyes scan the classroom for a second, and then you introduce yourself, saying your name while shaking his hand.
a light pink covers his cheeks the second your hands touch, it was barely there but you noticed it. and you found it amusing, a bit adorable, that the man who got down on his knees to beg you and then kinda flirted with you in front of around twenty people, is acting a bit shy now.
“umm, it was fun, i guess,” you smiled at him, letting his hand go so you could take the bag he had placed on the desk for you, “was nice to meet you, professor. . .” your eyes wander to the desk, looking for his last name, “dong, great lesson, let’s repeat some time again.”
you don’t actually mean those last words, the probabilities of having an encounter with dong sicheng, again, is very low.
⠀ + lemon pie has been written down as the first material used in this experiment.
this experiment follows a triangular theory of love that has to be applied to the subjects of study.
⠀ TRIANGULAR THEORY OF LOVE. states that love is composed of three core components: intimacy, passion and commitment.
a fascinant thing about what it means 'to be loved' by someone is that it doesn't always mean the same thing, and loves do differ from each other in many ways. the amount of love one person experiences depends on those three components, and the kind depends on their strengths relative to each other so to form a number of the various kinds of loving experiences, those components interact with each other. now, is turn to explain the components:
(a) intimacy. is the feeling of closeness, connectedness, and bondedness. (b) passion. leads to romance, physical attraction, and sexual consummation. (c) commitment. the decision that one loves another and, in the long term, to maintain that love.
there are eight possible subsets of the various components, most loving relationships fit between categories.
i. nonlove. it refers to the absence of all three components of love, characterizing most of our personal relationships, which are simply casual interactions.
week two, sunday at some time around evening.
⠀ UMBRELLA (n.) an object designed to protect a person against rain.
a cool feather-like breeze touched your skin, the fresh air making the whole scene feel cozy and calm. you had checked the weather forecast this morning before leaving the house, it’s going to be a sunny day with low probabilities of rain, they said.
you guess they got it wrong then. or maybe you are not good at calculating probabilities, nor reading them.
with this weather, most people enjoy sipping on a warm drink, you on the other hand, enjoy something a bit more sweet, creamy, icy. thus, you are really grateful for the old lady who has a convenience store in your neighbourhood, which you have to pass by to get to your place, giving you the opportunity to treat yourself to a nice treat.
not that you need a reason to do so, but you deserve it to start new after such a long week. you had been working hard for the past days, going from one place to another, coming back to a lot of paper work, having to read many files and decide which ones are more important.
and at this moment you want nothing more than various flavoured ice creams, that definitely won't be the thing you will be eating all night while watching kid cartoons.
stopping in front of the freezer, your eyes evaluate every option in sight: plain vanilla, salted caramel, chocolate chip cookie, vanilla and fudge brownie, and even more ben&jerry’s creative flavours.
you are wasting time looking at the variety of ice creams as if you don’t always do the same thing: grab your favourite one and call it a day. most of the time it is a very specific one, or any of its variations, rather than try a new flavour. as you are grabbing every tub of ice cream you want: normal strawberry, chocolate covered strawberry, strawberries and cream, strawberry swirl, oh, fudgy flan, a new flavour. . .
“ms kim,” you say, not bothering to look at her way, hands roaming in the freezer looking for a very specific flavour, “you don’t have any strawberry cheesecake ice cream left?”
the sound of things being scanned, the store door opening then closing, and ms kim’s voice ringed your ears, “oh, sweetie, you are the only one who eats those things!”
you decide to stop disorganising the old woman’s freezer and just pay for the ones you already took — of course, with a very notorious pout on your face. “someone else must like it too,” you point out while you watch her scan your ice cream tubs.
she offers you a warm and, almost familiar at this point, smile while shaking her head slowly, “you better eat some proper dinner, you are always eating these things.”
of course, there is no buying ice cream in ms kim convenience store without being scolded for buying it in the first place. “yes, yes mom,” you say, almost laughing, taking the bags with the five ice cream tubs in them, “don’t worry, i will order some take out and-. . .”
ms kim interrupts you, shaking her hand in the air, “that’s not a proper dinner! you have to eat something healthy.”
“right, right,” you say, starting to walk away, “i will make a sandwich or a salad,” you wave your hand in the air, “see you later, ms kim!”
and as you step outside of the store, you realise that you did waste a lot of time, watching the rain hitting the pavement, quickly drenching the concrete. you press your lips together, stepping outside the small roof of the store, feeling the cold air and tiny raindrops covering your skin.
you step back, shielding yourself from the rain, taking a moment to decide what would be better; if wait for the rain to stop or walk under the rain for almost two blocks. of course, you wanted to be in the comfort of your own home, guarded from the rain, eating your ice cream while cuddling yourself in bed.
or maybe you should start eating it right now, you only would have to go back into the store and buy a spoon, but then your line of thought about how good the ice cream would be is interrupted by someone clearing his throat and muttering:
“can you hold this for me, please?”
you didn’t even hear the door opening, neither felt someone stopping close to you, but you did reach to hold the this he was referring to — an umbrella.
and that’s when you see it, see him, the young professor, dong sicheng, who you were sure you wouldn’t be seeing again, “oh,” is the first sound that leaves your lips, wide eyes scanning his face, “is you.”
"oh,” you frown as you watch him imitate you, “hi, miss strawberry,” he says, as he starts walking towards his car.
“wait,” you raise your voice, holding out the umbrella, “your–. . .”
he doesn’t let you finish the sentence, opening the door of his car, “you can give it back, you know where to find me!” are the last words he says to you as he gets into his car.
⠀ + umbrella has been written down as the second material used in this experiment.
week three, wednesday at 8:45am.
there was a buttery and sweet scent surrounding the air, people coming out and into the cafe, some of them in a rush, others completely relaxed. today, you were part of the relaxed ones, gradually warming up to the day with no outside stress.
eyes scanning the pastries placed in front of you, reading its names and prices in handwritten tags, debating internally if you should try the strawberry scone just to decide that buying a cheddar bacon one is a better option. you wait patiently as the barista is making your tea, curious watching her behind the counter preparing it, to where your eyes would occasionally go.
as more people enter the café and it begins to be a bit too crowded, being careful to not actually touch it, you step a little closer to the counter, taking barely two steps backwards -- and slightly bumping into someone, or more like, stepping on their foot.
you immediately turn around, a string of “sorry, sorry, sorry,” leaving your lips.
“it's oka—, oh, hey you." he smiled, looking down at you.
“oh,” you let out of surprise, quickly giving him a lip-tight smile back, “hi, professor.”
he shakes his head slowly, “you don't need to call me that,” he says, scratching the back of his neck.
your eyes go back to the baristas behind the counter, expecting your order to be ready, “have you. . . tried this?” his question makes you turn to him, eyes following his finger that was pointing to some kind of sweet pastry, you read the tag: soft melon cream buns.
denying with a shake of your head, you say “no, i'm more of a winter strawberry cream croissant.”
“umm, i will—,” a barista walked towards you, giving him a take out coffee cup, “thank you,— try it next time, then.”
“if you like really sweet things, you will like it.”
you smile at him, expecting for him to take his things and go, instead he opens his mouth, only to be interrupted by the barista handing you the tea.
a thank you. the sound of the bag with your scone in it. and then, a couple of seconds later, “did you know that regular consumption of tea is linked to a reduced risk of cognitive decline and better brain function.”
eyebrows raised, lips slightly parted, you lean closer to him, “really?” that's all you say, fingers fidgeting with the straw of your drink, moving the bottom of it, the red tea infused with orange juice, “umm, interesting.”
you start to walk away, taking a sip of your drink, the slightly acidic and fruity taste leaving a refreshing feeling in your tongue. you look at him for a second, walking by your side, giving short steps to match yours — and that's when he sees it, the spark in your eyes as you watch him, the curiosity behind it, the need to know more, to learn everything.
so he continues, opening the door for you while he says, “is because of compounds like l-theanine and catechins.”
nodding encouragingly as he speaks, “so, by drinking tea everyday, my. . . brain is healthy?”
“yes, you could say it like that.”
you smile at him, "good to know,” and before he could say something else, you point behind you, “i'm going that way.”
then, waving your hand as if to say bye, the both of you start walking, in opposite ways, while the fluffy clouds drift across the clear, blue sky, the sun dazzles, and big smiles adorn your faces.
week four, sunday at 8:36pm.
the shining stars adorning the dark blue sky were accompanied by the lamp poles, lighting up the neighbourhood. even for a sunday night, the street was filled with calmness and quiet, the only sound that could be heard was the occasional meowing of a cat.
you place your bag on the wooden table, eyes squinting as you look for the cat who’s meowing, thinking it may be close. so you end up squatting down, inspecting the ground.
the first and only thing you notice is a pair of glowing eyes in the dim light, his meowing getting louder or maybe it is just that you are closer, you allow a smile to adorn your lips, extending your hand to the tiny cat, wanting him to get to you.
“meow,” you whispered, a giggle leaving your lips the second he starts to pet himself with your hand, his head resting on your palm, “hi, cutie.”
he purrs at you, as if answering your hi, wagging his tail.
the cat is barely bigger than your hand, with black, long, fuzzy fur covering his tiny body, and almost sharp teeth as he tries to bite your fingers, starting to play with you in his own way. then, while he is giving you his paw — “what are you doing?”
the sound of a male voice startled you, causing you to almost fall into the ground.
you close your eyes, hand going to your chest for a second, “god.” you hear a soft laugh, making you glare at the owner of the voice.
then as you were able to hold the cat into your arms, you say, “i’m stealing ms kim’s cat.”
letting out a loud gasp, he adds, “scandalous. . . can i help?”
“umm. . . maybe,” you nod, pretending to think as you stand up, “what do you know about cats?”
he frowns, pretending to be hurt by the tone you used, “petting a cat can lower stress and blood pressure, a cat’s purr has a calming effect—.”
you tilted your head, blinking, and you interrupted him this time, thinking he had finished what he said, “that’s interesting,” you say, hand petting the cat, “but, i mean, you seem more like a dog person.”
“well, you are not wrong,” he smiles at you, “i do have a dog.”
nodding, you observe him this time, a comfortable outfit compared to the dress shirt and pants that you had seen him wear before, and a plastic bag with whatever he bought from ms kim, the curiosity gets the best of you and a frown takes over your features— “do you live here?”
is not the first time you two have crossed paths in the last month, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if he did, the thing is that you never noticed him before.
he shakes his head, frowning too, “no?”
oh, well, now is a bit weird. you take a step back, putting even more distance between the two of you, “are you like, stalking me?” you don’t actually think that, because his family could live here, or a friend, or girlfriend.
he brings his hands up, quickly denying it with his head, “no, what, i— no, my friend yuta lives here.” he points to a building across the street, “his apartment is right there,” he adds.
now, that is a more elaborated answer. your eyes linger on his face a little bit longer, the lack of distrust that you had the first time you meet comes back, so you simply nod, deciding to keep messing with him.
you watch as he unlocks his phone, scrolling through something really quick, “it's him,” he says, turning his phone so you can see it, a picture of who he says is his friend, and you do think you may have seen him a couple of times.
“oh, right,” you smile, a lip-tight, barely visible, but still a smile.
he shakes the bag in his hands, cans of beer colliding as he does so, “i—. . .”
then, he gets interrupted by ms kim's voice, “sweetie, do you like—” she stops herself, her eyes going from you to him, “oh, you have company,” she smiles and then, as if trying to be discrete, she winks, “i'll serve some kimchi just in case, anyway.”
⠀ + the subjects in the experiment have advanced to another subset.
ii. liking. it refers to the presence of the intimacy component only, the term is used here to describe the set of feelings one experiences in relationships that can truly be characterized as friendships.
week five, monday at 6:27pm.
⠀ PIZZA (n.) an italian dish made of flattened bread dough with a savoury topping of tomato sauce and cheese.
you take a deep breath, taking in the smell of the trees and fresh air and a gentle breeze touching your skin as you step out the library.
a warm orange tinge covering the sky, the evening sun casting long shadows on the ground in the shape of the various university buildings, you walk past some students sitting in the benches chatting with their friends, and some others who seem to be on their way out of the campus.
and as you see buildings with the lights on, you assume there must be some in class still. the neuroscience one comes into view and memories of the first time you walked into that building comes into mind.
he also makes a small appearance, with his coral blue shirt and brown pants, no, it was grey pants, you are sure. and now, he is standing right in front of you, wide eyes, mouth open slightly while waving his hand.
"oh, hi, for some reason i did not think of the possibility of seeing you here," then, you add, "again."
brows furrowed as he smiles at you, "i work here," he looks around, nodding, "you, on the other hand. . ." he makes a pause, waiting for you to say something.
"right," this time you nod, "i was in work seminary in the social—"
he interrupts you, "are you looking for a job?"
you laugh, moving your hand in a 'no' way, "i was the one that had to talk about how amazing is working at the company i work at."
"oh, right, makes more sense," nodding, he looks around again, his hand going to the back of his head, "umm. . . where are you headed?"
"to my apartment" you say, pointing to the right side of the campus where the bus stop is.
his eyes go from where you pointed to your face around three times, his mind seemed to be racing with thoughts, "oh, okay," he gives you a smile, nodding as he sees you shake your hand and start walking, "wait," he says the second you give only one step forward, "let me buy you some early dinner."
your lips parted slightly from the surprise, blinking a couple of times while looking directly into his eyes that seemed to have a spark that you didn’t understand then, nodding your head, “okay."
he points to the opposite side you were going to walk to, clearing his throat,"there is this place where the pizza is so delicious," he shakes his car keys so you can see them while smiling at you, "i'll drive."
⠀ + pizza has been written down as the third material used in this experiment.
week six, saturday at various times in the evening.
⠀ MOVIE (n.) a story recorded by a camera as a set of moving images and shown in a theater or on television.
7:48pm. for some reason, a month packed with casual encounters and some interesting previously unknown facts is enough to get to know someone.
well, at least to decide that you like each other enough to become friends and getting to discover the various sides of dong sicheng has been a really nice experience, he is a very fun person to be with.
he was not the guy who once got down on his knees to beg you, nor the one who kind of flirted with you in front of his students, he was some point in the middle. he would say random facts here and there, be quiet most of the time, have a really expressive face, and be a bit weird.
another thing about him is that he has the worst perfect timing.
every time he invites you to do something you would either not be in town or wanting nothing more than to stay at home and not see anyone. today, it was different, you received a text that said something along the lines of 'let's go watch a movie' and at the moment it seemed like a better idea than to stay at home watching some romance comedy that made you wish you were in love.
you scrolled down the cinema's website, looking through the various movies they had on display: after the hunt, good fortune —and the others didn't even pick your attention.
"oh, wicked for good!" he says, a little too excited to see the big poster while parking the car, "we should watch that, the first one was good."
you open your mouth, having a small internal discussion with yourself for not knowing how to tell him no, "after the hunt sounds good, and julia roberts is in it!"
he shrugged his shoulders, "maybe, what is it about?" he asks, leaning over the console, closer to see your phone.
"a college professor. . . like you, see you may like it!"
he leans back, a frown taking over his features, "wha- so you like a movie if it is about a journalist? that's dumb, berry!"
you turn to look at him, a frown on your face, "well, then let's watch good fortune!"
"or. . . let's just watch wicked!"
you take a deep breath, the words slipping from your lips, "i didn't watch the first one, okay?"
it takes him around a minute to process your words, biting your inner cheek so you don't laugh at his expression, lips parted in surprise, widened eyes screaming at you, and his finger pointing at you.
"you have never watched wicked?" now, his eyes are furrowed as he stares at what seems to be an invisible camera as if he was a character in the office, "wha-why? do you hate green people"
"yes, i haven't, they do not exist," you start, counting with your fingers as you explain yourself, "and–"
he interrupts you, "it was nominated for the oscars! shouldn't you watch all the oscars movies?"
frowning, you take a second, staring at him for saying the most stupid thing you have heard him say with the most serious face, and on top of that, expecting a real answer.
"i'm not a member of the academia, sicheng, why would i do that?"
he opened his mouth, raising a finger, "i don't know, but i have to make you watch wicked, we are watching wicked, i'm the birthday boy, i choose the movie!"
8:05pm. cinemas have been adding new things to their menu in the past years, it used to be only popcorn and sodas. now, they have a long list of food and drinks, and you believe it is time for them to add ice cream to the menu.
"hey," he nudges your arm with his finger, then points to the screen that contains the menus and prices, "we could get one of-. . ." he waits for the specific one he wanted to appear again, "those," a big popcorn and two drinks, that are in cups with the character's hat and tiara.
"oh chips, and cookies," he keeps pointing out, "oh, and chocolate, and whatever you want," he turns to look at you, "i'll pay, don't worry."
you frown, eyes never leaving the screen, "the birthday boy is paying? why—"
"actually, is in a month, i just used the birthday card so we can see what i wanted."
11:55pm. if you want to learn more about someone else, watching movies together is a great option.
are they the silent type? or more talkative? do they eat a lot? do they get annoyed when someone else talks? and do they enjoy sharing opinions once the movie is over?
right now, you can answer every single one about dong sicheng. is silent, except for the singing, which you noticed he has a great voice. he doesn't eat that much, but he does buy a lot of snacks. he doesn't seem to mind other people talking, or at least not the younger couple sitting beside him.
and yes, he does enjoy sharing his opinion about the movie.
he is rambling, saying every thought that crosses his mind, while opening the car door for you, "–and ariana's voice is, oh my god, amazing, she's so talented, and–"
he stops talking for a moment, walking fast as he circles the car so he can get inside, "cynthia is also, i mean, she's a broadway star, so. . . you have to watch the first one, you liked this one so!"
you rest your head on the window, your eyes glued to his face, the way he pronounced the words with a pout on his lips, one of his hands leaving the steering wheel when he had to make emphasis on something.
"i expected you to ask me questions about what was going on, for a second i thought you were asleep, and–" you have been friends for around two months, maybe, and this is the first time you have seen him so talkative, "am i talking too much? sorry."
you quickly denied with your head, "oh, no, no" you made a movement with your hand, "i just-, no, keep talking, please, i enjoy it."
he turns to look at you for a second, his eyes sparking at the meaning of your words, then looks back at the road, "well, glinda is–"
and then, on the forty minute drive home, you listen to him ramble about the movie, you would let out some jokes about the movie, about him, to which he laughs while nodding, as if memorising them.
week seven, tuesday at 1:41pm.
lots of shuffling around and camera shutters that are louder than the various distant voices conversing with each other.
the tent being illuminated by pink and white tones of light, giving the impression that your white outfit may be baby pink. you use the palms of your hand to flat out your skirt then, staring directly into the camera, you raise your eyebrows to the cameraman, waiting for him to give you the go, except, that it doesn’t come.
you feel your phone ringing inside your bag, frowning, noticing that the filming crew seems to be having trouble, you decide to answer however is calling. when his name appears on the screen, the first word that comes to mind is: weird, still you press the green button, holding the phone to your face level.
he started talking, eyes squinting at the computer screen while adjusting the camera, you could see him clearly, a green shirt, tie, glasses on, and a classroom full of students. “hi, sorry for calling out of nowhere but– wait, where are you?”
you turn around, making sure you were still seen and showing the place: a red carpet, lights, cameras, microphones, people wearing nice outfits, and a big poster with an actor he didn’t recognise at first.
with a smile on your face, you wave your hand, saying ‘hi’ to everyone watching and then you say:
“i’m at the mantis premiere.”
you see how he looks at his students and then at the screen, his eyes analysing the entire picture, “what? how do you get into that?”
you show the badge hanging on your neck, shaking your head while frowning, “i don’t know, i found this on the floor and then snuck–.” you interrupted yourself, rolling your eyes at the question, “i’m a journalist, sometimes we do this.”
“right, right,” he nodded, scratching the back of his neck, “umm. . . i wanted to show my students that we are acquaintances.”
“oh,” this time it was you who nodded, “right, maybe next week i can go to the cla–.” you are interrupted by the cameraman’s voice, saying your name and announcing that they are finally ready, you quickly turn your attention to the camera, waving your hand and “have to go, bye.”
camera flashes on your face was the last thing sicheng and his students saw before you hung up the call.
the only sound was the one that the air conditioner makes, and then the total silence filling the room is broken by the students chatting at the same time. he clears his throat, closing his laptop before turning around and clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention.
“we’ll continue with our lesson,” he starts, only to be interrupted by one of his students.
sitting in one of the front rows, there was his favourite student, chenle, “professor dong, be honest, she was no stranger, right?”
well, maybe not a favourite all the time, he is not even able to answer when minjeong, another student, chimes in, “he lied to us on our first day, that’s mean.”
he takes a deep breath, denying with his head, “no, i didn’t lie, she was, technically, a stranger.”
for some reason, he was feeling nervous over a bunch of younger people questioning his relationship with you, and he knew there was no way of them not noticing it, “what does ‘technically’ mean?” this time it was yujin, who sits a few seats behind chenle.
“they were already dating!”
and when another student says that, he runs a hand through his hair, saying ‘no’ but being ignored as chenle adds: “well professor, your girl is meeting yim siwan, if it was my girl, i wouldn’t be so calm.”
some students laugh, and for some reason that comment of you being ‘his girl’ bothered him a little, because he has not seen you in days, and a feeling he couldn’t quite describe settled in his chest.
still he pushes it down, ignoring the loud voice in his head, and tries to get everyone’s attention to continue with the lesson.
sicheng: heeey, sorry for earlier, won’t call you out of nowhere again. my students do want to see you soon, hope you can make it:)
strawberry<3 : hi, don’t worry, it’s fine. yea, i think this month won’t do but maybe next one!
and when the absence of the other arouses strong feelings of intimacy, passion or commitment, it is best to classify the relationship as going beyond liking.
week eight, friday at 8:41pm.
⠀ DATE (n.) a social meeting planned before it happens, especially between two people who have or might have a romantic relationship.
the dim light in the restaurant made everything feel more intimate than it already was. books on the walls that caught your attention, stopping yourself from grabbing one. and the paintings, you could see one sideways, a pan with eggs, bread, tomatoes and wine, the texture was an eye-catching sight.
you sat on the soft-green booth, eyes observing the food placed on the table, various types of sushi, a plate of gyozas, shrimp tempura —just for you—, and beef udon.
in front of you, there was sitting sicheng, drinking a glass of wine, just one, because he was the one driving tonight and he had to make sure you get home safely, his words not yours.
"oh, this looks tasty," you muttered, eyes shining with curiosity leaving the food and looking around, "and the place is really nice, cozy."
he smiles at your words, nodding his head slowly, "i knew you would think that."
you look back at him, a pout on your lips, "i'm sorry i couldn't come to your birthday dinner-"
he interrupted you, shaking his hand, "no, it's okay, you were working."
and he was right, you were supposed to go, you had even bought a gift and chosen an outfit, but your job has the surprise element that sometimes you just can make plans in advance, "and, we are here tonight, so, is okay, really," he smiles at you, placing one of the gyozas on your plate "the tornado was more important anyway."
"well, okay," you know there is no point in saying how sorry you were, and as you watch him try the udon, you keep talking, "at least we are celebrating now!" you bring the gyoza to your mouth, letting a sound of enjoyment at the flavour, and you nod to him, a way of saying is good.
he places more gyozas and some udon on your plate, and then, after swallowing, he says, "you know, it was dangerous even for you, a tornado will demolish everything in its path, including measuring equipment, because its formation is so complex that scientists don’t completely understand it."
you nodded, eyes wide and mouth full of food as you listened to him, "tornadoes are also very unpredictable, so it is difficult and dangerous to study them."
you cover your month as you swallow, quickly pointing at him, "there is no way you 'just' know that. . . impossible, you sound like you learned it on your way here!"
"i-i didn't," he stutters, quickly defending himself, "i learned it when you told me you were going to jeju to document the tornadoes and what happened after and all that."
you just nod, focusing on the food, smiling as you reach for the shrimp, widen eyes, tongue poking between your lips, hand in the air with the chopsticks and then the sound of the camera flushed.
now, you looked like a deer caught on the lights, before you could even look at him and say something, your phone screen lights up, a notification of airdrop. your eyes go to him, putting his phone down and trying some gyozas, and placing more food on your plate.
you are taken back, unlocking the phone and opening what he had sent, pictures, and your lips parts slightly, eyes widening as you see them: the painting, the food, the place, you eating, you looking at the paintings, you pointing the books as you said something, and then he says something:
"none of them captured your beauty though."
the moment your brain registered the words, you looked up, eyes scanning his face but he was looking at the food, eating one of your shrimps, as if he had said nothing, but the light pink blush that covered his cheeks gave it away.
you blinked, not being sure of how you should react, 'okay' or maybe 'thank you', or 'do you say that to all of your friends?" it took you a minute, and you went with the best option, ignore it.
clearing your throat, you reached to the gift bag placed beside you at the booth, "i got you a gift!"
and with the low jazz music playing in the background, you watched as he opened the bag, his eyes scanning the cover of the book, two orange cats partially covered with a blanked and the grey tail of another cat, before turning his attention to the handwritten note, you watch the way a sparkle appears in his eyes while he read the words you wrote ‘happy bday my boy! just a little something i saw and thought of you, hope you enjoy it’
⠀ + a book ‘the blanket cats’ has been written down as the fourth material used in this experiment.
⠀ + the subjects in the experiment have advanced to another subset.
iii. romantic love. derives from a combination of the intimacy and passion components, romantic lovers are not only drawn physically to each other but also bonded emotionally.
week nine, wednesday at 8:25am.
shadows of trees barely doing anything to cover the rays of sunshine that filtered through the car’s windows, illuminating his blushing face with golden tones, a sight you could engrave in your mind.
and the past you totally would, along with all the conversations, interesting new facts, his mannerisms you know are very much yours too now. you blink, eyes settling in the steering wheel, and his hands, mind racing with thoughts you want to push away so you do.
clearing your throat, you tap your fingers into the console, “you didn’t have to drive me to work, you know.”
he turns his head to the side, looking at you for a moment before turning his attention back to the road, brows furrowed slightly, “i keep you up till late,” one of his hands leaving the wheel to poke your hand, “so yes, i had to.”
the shy smile on his lips is contagious, “okay,” you simply say, “thank you.”
“i won’t do it again though,” his words make you frown, confused to what does he means, “sleep deficiency can cause your mental health to decline, and we don’t want that, do we?”
you never had a great sleeping schedule, still, you used to get to work on time, except for this past week. it was only once, but he wants to make sure it doesn’t happen again, hence why he is driving you today. you shake your head ‘no’ when he looks at you, the smile on his lips becomes bigger. “and, why is that?” you ask, leaning over the console, resting your chin in the palm of your hand, wanting him to keep talking.
he tries to bite back his smile, but you know how happy he feels when you are interested in what he is saying, so he continues; “because during sleep, the brain flush out waste and toxins, and,” he makes a pause while he parks the car, “i would tell you more, but you have arrived, berry.”
rolling your eyes at the nickname, you put a hand on his arm, “thank you.”
but you don’t even make a move to leave the car, well you were about to when his eyes found yours and somehow, that made you stop. his eyes had a spark, that you now know it was because of how much he appreciated you listening to him, but there was something else hidden this time.
you see his eyes flicker to your lips, it was just a second, which you would have noticed if your eyes hadn’t left his. the air had shifted, you were still leaning over the console and you were not sure if he had been this close the whole time, he could move a bit closer and you would feel his breath in your face, then maybe he could put his lips on—.
a really loud honk, drags you out of your mind, reminding you where you were, you blink, sitting properly before reaching out to open the door, “thank you, text me when you get to the uni!”
he nods, letting out a sound of agreement as he watches you step out the car, “call me later?”
you stop yourself from closing the door, smiling at him, “uhmn, maybe,” you say, deciding to tease him a little, “bye!” closing the door, you start walking towards the building entrance, the smile on your lips faltering for a second.
“who’s that?” you turn to your side at the sound of her voice, intertwining her arms with yours as you enter the building, she is pointing behind her and your eyes follow her finger, not expecting to see his car still there.
“a friend.”
week ten, monday at 2:27pm.
⠀ MEMORY CELL (n.) a type of immune cell that remembers specific pathogens the body has previously encountered.
taking a deep breath, you fix your hair while rushing through the university’s hall, checking the time every few seconds on your phone. you should have been in the classroom already twenty minutes ago, however you got distracted watching a park jinyoung’s drama so technically, it wasn’t your fault.
the second you reach the door, you stand there, fixing your clothes, even though it didn’t have any wrinkles. before knocking, you take a peak over the glass panel of the door, having to squint your eyes and stand on your tiptoes to see him, in front of the board, the words ‘holistic understanding’ written there and curiosity gets the best of you.
so instead of texting him that you were already there, you do what you used to do when you were late for your own classes a year ago, opening the door slowly and carefully sitting in the back, not making any noise.
“–the notion that memories could exist beyond the brain, residing within various cells of the body, inspires various new perspectives on the human experience.”
this brings you back to the day you met him, hearing his voice tone, watching him manage himself in front of his students, and you enjoy this side of him, you rest your chin on your hand, making yourself even smaller so he doesn’t see you, yet.
he moves his hands while talking, a smile on his lips while talking, he paces around his desk, “if memory is more than a neuronal construct, it suggests that our bodies hold intimate connections to our past.” he looks at his students, paying attention to them, so when one of them raises their hand, he immediately points to them, “yes, miss yujin?”
“so there is a possibility in treating cognitive disorders, those affected by memory impairments, right?” she asks, and you watch as his smile gets bigger, nodding softly.
you can see how much he enjoys teaching, and it makes a smile appear on your face too without you even noticing it, “yes! by understanding proteins, we could develop strategies to bolster cognitive resilience in conditions like. . . alzheimer’s disease.”
he presses his lips together, claps his hands together and looks around, pausing for a second, which seems to be for see his students faces, and when he opens his mouth again to say something, he gets interrupted:
“soo,” you hear a male voice, one of his students in the front row, “when is your girlfriend coming?”
and there is a pause, other students making noises, teasing him, and he is rolling his eyes, a smile on his face that he tries to hide behind his hand, and you can see how his ears have turned red, and for some reason you are blushing too. the girlfriend they were talking about, has to be you, even though you would correct them and say you are friends.
“no, chenle, and you guys have to stop,” he says, shaking his hands while leaning against his desk, “she’s not my. . . girlfriend,” he crosses his arms over his chest, “and, she should already be here.”
you unlock your phone, quickly writing the words ‘i’m here!’
he is checking the time on his watch, frowning, and then claps his hands, “let’s continue, the memory cells–.”
that’s when you send the text, causing his phone to ring and then he turns to check it. you stand up quickly, imitating him as you clap your hands, “i don’t want to interrupt but–. . .”
you pause when you hear the class start making loud, boisterous noises, excited for some reason, you try to not laugh. you walk down the stairs to join sicheng standing in front of his desk, you watch as he claps his hands, trying to get the class to go quiet. and they do, “i don’t know what am i doing here tho,” you say as soon as you reach his side, giving him a lip-tight smile, “am i the lab-rat again?”
he smiles too, shaking his head ‘no’, “well, maybe?” he raises his hands towards you but quickly stops himself from reaching out for you, putting his hands down while flexing them, and of course everyone notices, as the students are about to start teasing you two, he continues the class, “we were talking about the memory cells. . .”
week eleven, thursday at 8:39pm.
a few various smells combined along with many voices all talking at the same time, footsteps of people passing by, still, you had all your focus on the food you were eating and the boy sitting in front of you.
tossing a fry into your mouth, you nodded as he began to tell a story, paying attention to what he was saying. his hand motioning over the table, while his feet settled between yours, “then, one of my students, you know, chenle,” the one he always mentions, you do know him, “he says–. . .”
he gets interrupted by a woman’s voice, “winwin!” you frown, watching as he stops talking, his eyebrows raised and lips slightly parted, eyes blinking while looking to the side.
you turn your head to the side, the frown never leaving your face, noticing her with her arms opened, clearing talking to him. weird, because his name is sicheng, you never heard anyone refer to him as winwin, your eyes going from her to him, the smile on his lips faltering a bit, “m-mom!”
oh, you quickly move your feet away from his, suddenly feeling nervous about her getting the wrong idea. you watch as he stands up, hugging his mom for a few seconds, giving you time to stand up too.
“hi, nice to meet you, ms dong,” you say with a smile on your lips, extending your hand for her to shake it, and she does, her eyes flickering from you to her son.
he clears his throat, “mom, she’s–.”
you interrupted him, saying your name, “i’m a friend of your son’s.”
she claps her hands together, “oh, yes, i know you!” you frown again, confused at what she means because you do not know each other, “he talks about you all the time,” she adds, patting her son’s back.
and that information takes you aback, not expecting him to talk about you with anyone, and even less with his mom. you look at her, lips pressed together and eyes wide, not knowing how to react, and you don’t need to, sicheng quickly grabbing his mom’s attention, “i–, mom, what are you doing here?”
“oh, just buying something for your sister,” she patted his head this time, and then fixed his hair, “i’ll leave you two alone, see you in the weekend? right.”
he nods, “yes, mom.”
she turns to you, “nice to meet you, darling, hope to see you again,” she smiles at you before turning again, about to walk away but stopping next to her son, whispering something only for him to hear and then, she winks.
my berry<3 : soo, winwin
sicheng : don’t know why people call me that, stop
my berry<3 : whatever
my berry<3 : question
my berry<3 : does your mom like me?
sicheng : it’s one in the morning
my berry<3 : i know, but does she?
week twelve, sunday at 4:21pm.
⠀ ICE CREAM (n.) a soft frozen food made with sweetened and flavoured milk fat.
the moment you hear a soft knock on your door you mute the sound of the tv, a frown appearing on your face. then, another knock, and that's when a feeling you couldn't describe settles in your chest, because you were not expecting anyone. and with the third knock, you take a deep breath, standing up from the couch and walking towards the door.
any other day you would probably ignore, so the person outside assumes there is no one home and leaves you alone, but for some reason, a tiny little voice in your head is telling you to open it today, so you do.
and you don’t even try to hide your surprise, eyes wide with a curious spark on them, mouth open slightly, and the first words to leave past your lips, “i did not invite you.”
with furrowed eyebrows, he shrugs his shoulders and a lopsided smile, "i know," he raises the bag he was holding, shaking it gently.
you squint your eyes, trying to see what it has inside and when you notice the ‘ben&jerry’s’ design, you step aside opening the door completely with a smile on your lips, “okay, i’ll let you in,” you pause, pointing at him, “only because you brought ice cream.”
his eyes scanned you first; still on your pajamas, hair a bit disheveled and not even a drop of makeup. in his eyes you look gorgeous as always, still he feels a bit shy so he runs a hand through his hair, “am not interrupting something, right?”
“oh, no,” you close the door the second he steps inside, “just watching our unwritten seoul,” pointing at the tv, you walk towards the couch, he follows your every move, “you can join me.”
patting the space next to you, you watch as he quickly sits by your side, leaving a few inches of distance between the two of you, it is not the first time he is in your apartment, he has only stayed close to the door waiting for you to get ready so it is the first time he’s been on your couch.
his eyes are scanning the room, noticing the plants in the corner, cat toys scattered around, a blanket at the armrest and an empty cup in the small table in front of the tv. “umm. . .” you reach for the bag he had placed in his lap, taking the ice cream out, “which flavour did you– chocolate?" he could hear the disappointment in your voice, your eyes left his lap, staring at him with a frown.
he takes the tub off your hand, “no, leave, i–,” he feels a bit nervous having you so close, the faint of your breath grazing his neck, “that one is for me,” he reaches for the other ice cream in the bag, immediately placing it on your hands, “strawberry cheesecake for you.”
nodding, you happily look at the cup, humming before standing up again, “oh, perfect,” you say, walking to the kitchen, “you can stay,” you take two spoons before going back to the couch, “this one is sooo much better,” you point to your ice cream, “chocolate is boring.”
you extend your hand, offering the spoon which he gladly accepts “really?” he says, an eyebrow raised, opening his cup, “let me try it.”
“okay,” you take the spoon from his hand, scooping just a little, is only for him to taste it. “open,” you hold the spoon to his lips, mouth slightly open while you wait for him to do it, you watch his ears turn to a lighter shade of red before opening his mouth.
“umm,” he hums, nodding, “yea, is good.”
smiling, you shrugged your shoulders, “i told you, anything strawberry flavoured is superior.”
his eyes linger on your face for a bit longer than it should, making your heartbeat fasten for some reason, “why do you like strawberries so much?”
you frown, turning your body completely to the side, being able to look at him properly, “i also like the fudgy flan one,” you mention, bringing a spoon full of ice cream to your lips, “and, you know strawberries are my favourite fruit.”
“well, they are good for the brain, you know,” he starts, and by now you recognise that tone of his voice way too well, so you look up from your ice cream, noticing his eyebrows raised and barely any blinking, “they have high levels of anthocyanins and vitamin c.”
you hum, nodding slowly while eating your ice cream, “so, my brain is very healthy then.”
he looks at you, eating a bit of his chocolate ice cream, “sort of?” he frowns, taking a minute to think, “i mean, if you eat strawberries everyday then yes,” he watches you listen to him attentively, leaning closer while eating your ice cream, “it helps to reduce inflammation and oxidative stress, which can protect brain cells from damage.”
“the conclusion is,” you point at him with your spoon, “strawberries are better than chocolate,” he pressed his lips together, trying to stop a laugh from escaping, “and they are good on everything.”
you go back to eating your ice cream happily, a spoon full of strawberry cheesecake, so you don’t notice the way his frown is different this time, as if there was some process going on inside his head, he is staring at you, his eyes focused on your face, “on everything?” he muttered, and you looked up at him again, tilting your head to the side.
“wha–. . .”
he doesn’t even let you finish your sentence, leaning closer to you, placing his ice cream cup on top of the table, “let me try it.”
his hand goes to your cheek, cupping your face slowly while leaning in, watching your widened eyes and surprised expression. he took the ice cream cup from your hands, giving you time to push him away or even stand up and kick him out, even though he knew it wasn’t going to happen. and then as he watches you close your eyes, as he reduces the small distance between the two of you, lips touching yours softly, brushing, tasting, slow almost as if he was being tentative.
you don’t waste time reacting, placing one of your hands on his neck while the other grabs the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. his lips were soft, barely moving, as if he was testing you and choosing to take charge of the kiss. and you want him to do more, you open your mouth just a little, tilting your head to the side, letting him know he can do more.
and he does, his tongue exploring your mouth, the strawberry cheesecake mixing with chocolate ice cream. he doesn’t let go of your cheek, his other hand going to your waist, tugging you into his lap as he deepens the kiss, causing you to let out a gasp, surprised, that simple action catching you off guard. he is amused by your reaction, pulling away just a little with a breathy laugh.
you open your eyes, finding him already staring at you, a soft pink blush covering his face, a lopsided smile, and pupils blown wide, and you probably look the same way, or even worse. giggling, both of you are trying to catch your own breaths, is just a second and your eyes wander down to your hand resting on his chest, over his shirt, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat.
"umm. . ." you hum, lips brushing against his, "on everything, right?"
"i think," you can feel his lips on yours while he talks, "is more than good on you," the moment your hand leaves its spot in his neck and runs through his hair, he squeezes your waist, trying to ground himself, "we should do this more often then–. . ." he pauses, taking a deep breath, "strawberries, umm, improve memory, delay cognitive decline. . ." he starts yapping, even when his brain seemed to be malfunctioning while his mouth shared the very interesting fact, knowing how much you enjoy hearing him, "oh," there it was again, the fast-paced tone, "there is a study from 2023 that shows that strawberries reduce the risk of diseases like alzheimer's–."
humming, you nod, “umm, that’s interesting,” you whisper before pulling him into you again, lips crashing into his, and this time there is nothing tentative about it, it’s desperate, greedy, the second his tongue pushes past your lips, you gasp, tasting more of him this time, the mint under the chocolate, and a kind of emotion you don't think you deserve.
he kisses you in a way that makes it seem as if he already knows you mouth, feeling him breathe your name against your lips. and you, you kiss him like you are doing everything in you to not memorise him.
his hands grip your waist tighter, trying to pull you even more closer to him, hesitantly doing so. you try to let him know is okay in the only way you know how, rolling your hips down onto his, pulling his hair until a groan leaves his mouth. and god, you swear you’d do anything to hear him doing that sound again.
when he is touching you like this, you feel his hands softer, larger, fitting. his thumb brushes the underside of your breast, just above your shirt, and your whole body aches at the thought of more. him getting to know every inch of you, the warm feeling of his body against yours, surprisingly delicate and rough at the same time.
then, something that has never happened before, scenarios of a future flashes on your brain: his tie laying on your dresser, your favourite bra in his nightstand. him making breakfast in your kitchen wearing your red-heart apron while you just sit there staring at him. his laptop next to yours on your desk. waking up next to him every morning, his hair messy from the sleep, without glasses, muttering sweet nothings while leaving kisses all over your face. family weekends where he stays by your side all day, except, when he is helping in the kitchen.
the feeling of his hands pulling your hips down to meet his again as his lips leaves yours, trailing down your neck just over your sensitive spot, gets you out of your mind. you turn your head to the side as if it was an instinct, giving him even more space. god, how did he know what to do to make you feel like this? a breathy moan escaping your lips before you can stop it, he lets out a groan and it hits you soft and hard, you want every part of him, his body, his voice, his lips, his hands, his brain, his extended and interesting knowledge about almost everything.
and your chest tightens with that realization, you don't want to stop kissing him even when you know you should because those scenarios that flashed in your head minutes ago will definitely happen and then the unavoidable heartbreak will come, even worse than you can imagine. you have been part of this experiment many times before, and the result is always the same, you'll end up losing your mind over him, overanalyzing every single one of his movements, his words, and you refuse to let that happen, again.
⠀ + the subjects in the experiment have advanced to another subset.
week thirteen, friday at 7:21pm. - analysis.
⠀ SELF-SABOTAGE (v.) behave or think in a way that is harmful to one’s own interests, especially when this is involuntary.
your limbs are numb and you feel your whole body ache, so you stretch your arms while your feet walk you towards the airport entrance. even though you were barely paying attention to your surroundings, you could notice people walking past you, some just as tired, others happy for their trip, others saying goodbye to the person leaving, and others waiting for the person to arrive.
the feeling of someone's hand touching your arm before intertwining it with theirs brings you out of your haze, "ugh, i need the rest of the weekend off," your friend says, leaning over your shoulder as both of you walk.
the other members of the team were walking in front of you, just as tired as you were. you wanted nothing more than to lay down on your bed and sleep till the next month, not even thinking about eating.
“if you say it louder maybe he can hear it, eve,” you muttered, pointing behind you, eyelids heavy, almost closing completely.
she gently punched your arm, shaking her head, “and fire me probably,” it was above a whisper, but somehow he hears it and as he walks past the two of you, he says, “i’ll let you take until wednesday off.”
you were about to ask if he was being serious when someone very familiar appeared in your line of sight, the sage green shirt, brown tie, immediately catching your attention. so you stop walking, squinting your eyes in that direction with a frown on your face.
your arm pull causes your friend to stop too, but she doesn’t look at you, her attention completely on the older man,“really?” your friend eve asks, eyes shining with hope, that he was being real.
“umm, until tuesday, may–. . .” he stops when a not really loud, male voice interrupts him, saying your name while walking towards you and the second he reaches your side, a big smile adorning his face.
your friend pokes your side, eyes going from him to you, you can see it in her eyes the ‘i knew it!’ she wanted to scream at you but you ignored it, too confused as to what he was doing here, so you turned to him, a frown on your face while you muttered, “hi? didn’t know i would see you here.”
your voice was low, monotone without showing any emotion, mostly because you were tired, normal for a week of barely sleeping. “i’m picking you up, you texted me the time and i figured you were going to be too tired, so i came after finishing my last class.”
he spoke too fast, explaining himself, you just nodded, not moving your eyes from his face until your friend cleared her throat, “oh,” you turn to her, “right,” you point to your left, “this is eve, my friend, we work together.”
he quickly extended his hand, which she shook happily, “and he,” pointing to your right, “is sicheng.”
and that’s it, nothing else, no friend, or anything else. your friend looks at you, eyebrows raised and eyes wide while she shakes his hand, and you don’t see it but his smile falters for a second, because you didn't say anything else, nor smiled when you saw him, and maybe he was thinking it too much, you had a one hour flight so probably you were just too sleepy, normal.
someone else clears their throat, making all of you turn to him, and there is the leader of the team standing awkwardly, and waiving his hand, while extending the other that was holding your bag, “oh,” you say, quickly taking it from his hand, “thank you, youngjae,” you smile at him, letting your friend’s arm go, and patting his arm just for a second.
the older boy smiles at you, “it’s okay, see you all on tuesday,” he says, ruffling your hair before walking away.
sicheng reaches for the bag, taking it off your hands, and that’s the sign your friend takes to leave, waving her hand and walking fast to catch up with the group, “nice to meet you, bye!”
you turn to him, and he just gives you a lip-tight smile before starting to walk towards his car, he keeps a slow pace, walking by your side, “you tired?”
nodding, you lean into him, the side of your face barely touching his arm, “yes, all i wanna do is sleep all weekend.”
“umm, my car is right there,” he points with his free hand, “you can sleep a little on the way home,” when he decided to pick you up he knew that you sleeping in his car could probably be a scenario, even though he wanted to spend a little time with you since you haven’t seen each other in a week, he understands how tired you may be.
the moment you reach the car, he opens the door for you, like he always does, waiting for you to step inside, but you don’t, you place one hand on his arm, “you okay?”
and there it was again, another lip-tight smile, “of course,” nodding he pulled away, opening the backseat door, placing your bag there, you do find it weird, nonetheless, you entered the car, closing the door with you.
you watch him take a deep breath before entering the car, “so,” you start while he puts on the seatbelt, “have you. . . learned anything interesting recently?”
he watches you lean over the console, looking at him with blinking eyes to try and stop them from closing completely, that were still shining even when covered with dark circles. he knows that tone of your voice really well, and even more the way you were looking at him, you were flirting, and it was messing with him after what happened inside the airport.
now, he is completely sure you are going to fuck with his head.
hours later, week thirteen, friday at 03:43am
the strawberry scent of the fabric softener, for the first time ever, is causing you a dizzy sensation. you have been using it for ages and normally its scent makes you feel at ease, helps you to fall asleep in minutes.
today, that serene state of mind doesn’t seem to be coming any time soon. you could name a hundred and fifty excuses, blame your cat who is peacefully sleeping beside you, or finally admit that something that has been occupying your mind for the past few weeks. a change. a feeling. that you haven’t been able to get it out of your system, and is keeping you awake.
you can’t shake the image of his furrowed brow, narrow eyes, lips pressed together, tilted head as he was lost in thought, as if he was trying to decipher a mystery. you pressed your eyes closer together, harder as if it would magically make you sleep. you tried to get your mind to focus on other things, cat videos, dog videos, park jinyoung’s edits, even mukbangs to see if you get hungry and think about anything but him.
this emotion used to be different, kind, instead of feeling nauseous, you should be having butterflies. even though you can’t lie because you have expected it, usually you would have convinced everyone that he was the one and planned the whole wedding, something this time was wrong. you have been pulling away, not letting your walls down, repeating yourself that he may be just another guy playing with your heart, not allowing yourself to fold over any time he has made your heart flutter, like when you find out he told his mom about you, or the time his students called you his ‘girlfriend’, when he kissed you like he knew you were the one, or even more recently, when he picked you up from the airport without you even asking him to.
and now, as you are lying on your chest with your face down on the bed, you are wondering how much better this situation would be if you had met him when you were you, the romantic and emotional you, because the one he is trying to love can not stop hesitating every move, and you know, he would prefer someone who doesn’t make it any more harder.
the next day, week thirteen, saturday at 8:28pm.
your vision began to get blurry, not even recognising the letters on the screen as the credits rolled down, mind finally drifting away when suddenly a thud was heard, as if someone were gently knocking on your door.
barely lifting your head away from the armrest, you hear another knock, a bit louder this time, so slowly, you force your body to stand up. your feet felt heavy with every step you took, eyelids fluttering as you reached out the door handle. opening the door, you blink repeatedly to keep your eyes from closing, trying to push the fatigue away the moment your brain registers the sight in front of you, black coat, grey scarf, and his black hair falling over his forehead just above his glasses.
"oh," for some reason, his presence made you feel a bit more awake, tiredness leaving your body and being replaced with confusion, "hi?"
he gives you a lip-tight smile, nodding slowly while his eyes darted around your face, "can i come in?" he asks, his expressive face seemed blank, weird.
you pause, mouth opening and closing, "yea, right," you step aside, giving him space to walk in, "what are you doing here?" you frown, and you watch him step in front of you, eyes glued to his face as a weird feeling settles in your chest.
he's taken aback by your question, "i, well, i- i texted you," he starts, "good morning at eight and something, then, i figured out that you were sleeping and texted that i was going to be with my family," your eyes widen, as you hear him explain himself, "maybe i should have texted again– well," he interrupts his own words, shaking his head, "i did, an hour ago to ask if you were okay and then twenty minutes later to let you know i was coming," he pauses, watching your confused expression, "uh, maybe i should leave."
your only reaction is nodding, blinking eyes, and hands by your sides fidgeting with your shirt. your phone is probably dead since you watched tiktok for three hours straight and left it there on your bed, "no, you know what? i'm not leaving, not until you tell me what's wrong."
shrugging your shoulders you quickly say, "nothing. . ." he lets out a sigh, his eyes boring into yours as if searching for a sign, "nothing!" and he notices it, your voice getting a higher tone, "really, we are just fr-"
and there it goes that word, he knew what you were going to say, feeling his heart fall to his stomach, shaking his head while pressing his lips together, stopping himself from saying what he really wanted to say, “no, don’t even tr-. . . is mean what you are doing, you know? if you had told me that you didn’t want something serious i would have just stopped pursuing you but you didn’t, you flirted with me, you kissed me, god, even more than that. . . and, then you just pulled away? i gave you space, waited for you to start this conversation, if there is something going on with you i can understand and wait–“
"no."
you could tell the truth, admit you are scared about what comes after falling completely, giving you all to another person and then that's when the heartbreak hits, when out of nowhere he wakes up and decides he is tired of you and realises you are not the one for him, it could be tomorrow, or in a couple of months, or worse, in years.
“let’s just, i can’t do this, okay?" you walk towards the couch, "i can’t just pretend i lo-like you like this, that am not looking for even a small thing to just leave before you do, god, you are a scorpio!" you laugh, is a bittersweet laugh, while running a hand through your hair, "and you are always sayin– honestly, don’t know, i just cant keep pretending this is going to be more, that we are going to become a ‘we’ an ‘us’ okay, so just. . . stop, i was only really attracted to you, physical, that’s it, nothing more”
so you lie, because that's how you can protect your heart, the future you, breaking it yourself before he does but the thing is, that in the process of doing so, you see the hurt flash over his face.
and that's when he feels that hollow pain in the back of his throat, "physical? okay," he nods, you can see him trying to not be mad, and not failing in the process, "if you really mean that, i can just leave, that’s what you want, right?” there is a small drop of hope he doesn't hide in his voice, and a part of you wanted to be honest and say that you want him, but the scared part of you is stronger, so you don't, you just swallow hard, blinking, "i just- you really, i mean, the way you look- no, kissed me? i thought you wanted this."
you laughed, again, not like this was even funny, because it wasn't. "i am sorry if i made you think like there was something else."
“okay, then. . . whatever this was for you, is over, i’ll go back to being. . . a stranger,” and for some reason that word hits you, because that's the last thing you want but you don’t say anything, even though your hands do reach out to stop him, and you can’t tell if he noticed or not as he is already half-way out the door.
and when the door finally closes behind him, you don't feel like you are worthy of being sad, so you just let that sting settle in your chest, not even ignoring it.
iv. consummate love. results from the full combination of the three components, attaining this kind of love is no guarantee that it will last, it can be easier or more difficult to form or maintain, depending on the relationship and the situation in which it is developed.
week fourteen, saturday at 10:37pm.
you'd like to think that those months with him were some type of brief interruption.
ever since that night, the tiredness, slouched shoulders, and lump in the throat have not gone away. your routine reminded the same, except for avoiding some places, in a weak attempt to escape the memories that haunted your every decision. sidewalks, restaurants, even in your own apartment, you could hear the sound of his voice sharing some fact while you just stare at him, attention fully on him, you were haunted by him.
so, you do everything that can distract you, bury yourself in work, spend more time with ms kim, watch movies with your cat, or go out with your friends.
such as today, you hear your friends having a conversation, something about the cute new guy at work, you are not paying attention, eyes narrowed as you stared at a couple a few tables away, a soft look in the guy's eyes as he whispers probably some stupid fact into the girl's ear, and that's when you see him, his coral shirt, dark blue tie, disheveled hair, and glasses.
and that's all you needed to empty the soju glass in one gulp, laying your head on the table, to stop yourself from keeping staring at him. but what you don't even notice is that if you take a closer look, you'll see that is not sicheng, god, that guy doesn't even look like him.
you tell yourself that's exactly what has to happen, and you'd go back to wanting dudes who give nothing, numbing the pain in some old fashioned way, drinking until you don't remember anything the next day.
week fifteen, thursday at 10:32am.
⠀ DECISIONS (n.) the action or process of deciding something or of resolving a question.
the words 'decisions may result in better or worse outcomes' get written by him on the board, before turning around to face his students.
clapping his hands together, he starts "the theory of decision-making," it takes him four seconds to scan the students and notice the atmosphere of the classroom, either they were paying attention or they are good at pretending, "time to prove who did the reading. . . yujin."
he points at her sitting in the back, she fidgets with her own hands, "umm, it holds that people make decisions based on integrated global calculations that occur within the frontal cortex of the brain."
he doesn’t react immediately, pressing his lips together he shakes his head, "you are quoting the text, give me an example."
"if the coffee from the cafeteria is good, one brain circuit is activated, if is bad a different one is activated, then another one records the memories of the experience, doesn't matter if it's good or bad."
his eyes are darting around, not exactly distracted perhaps less focused than always, "that's right," he clears his throat, "umm, our brain makes thousands of decisions daily, and there are at least three individual processes that combine to help us to make good decisions. . . who can tell me about the third process, —chenle," he points at him, and then crosses his arm over his chest, waiting for his answer.
the younger boy looks away from his laptop, eyes widened and lips pressed together, "the third circuit is," he makes a pause, hesitating his answer, "crucial in making decisions such as hearing all the bad reviews and still choosing to go there."
"is correct mr. zhong, explain mor–. . ." he stops himself at the ringing of his phone, deciding to ignore the text messages and focusing on the class again, he shakes his head before continuing to speak and explain the subject in his own way.
pacing in front of his desk, he raises his hand, “we ‘make’ decisions as if they are our own creations, and sometimes we know when the result is not going to be good, why is that?”
one day later, week fifteen, friday at 8pm.
there is something about confessing this feeling settled in your chest a while ago that is filled with a sense of guilt, like it’s a secret you have been trying to hide even from yourself.
‘to fall in love’ is a very poetic phrase, because it really describes the feeling of tripping over a well and the fall can’t be stopped by no one. maybe, that’s the reason why you haven’t been able to function properly, you need to hold onto someone else while falling and instead, you pushed him away, you’d have to meet him again, and decide if he is the person who’s there to make your world different than how it was.
so, you finally make the decision, grabbing your coat before storming off your apartment. for a second, you consider taking the stairs as you feel like the elevator is taking too long and the wait helps doubt creep into your mind, however you know better than to go down 14 floors on foot. and as you are waiting, flashes of every possible outcome that your actions will cause, fill your mind, most of them are negative results but you know that in these experiments you have to take risks and if breaking your own heart, again, is one of them? you can handle it.
a ding drags you out of your mind, and you blink a few times before stepping in, not even noticing the other person inside. is not until his ragged breathing hits your ears that you turn around, and you see him, leaning against the elevator’s walls, tie loosened, hair disheveled as if he had pushed it back so many times in the last minute, the moment his eyes meet yours a flashing image appeared in your mind: him with someone else, and it was as if your brain was reminding you of the results of your own foolish decisions in its own very sick twisted way.
but the second he said, “hi,” your heart flutters, a pink flush covers your cheeks and you do want to say something, except that you fear the correct words may not leave your mouth, and you will just embarrass yourself, “i know i said i was going to be a stranger but i don’t think you want that.”
his voice was soft, considering the audible breathing as if he had run to your place, and those words surprise you, blinking you just stare at him, “i haven’t stopped thinking about the words you used that day—“ the doors open, and he steps outside first, hand on the door stopping it from closing as he waits for you to step out. you aren’t sure where you are going now but your feet just follow him, stepping into the lobby by his side, “i never planned to leave, i mean, the idea of dating, for me, is to spend the rest of my life with that person, throughout hardships and more important, to spend our happy days together, isn’t that want you want too?”
cold breeze and gentle rain hitting the pavement do little to silence your beating heart, his words hitting you softly and making you remember why you left your apartment in the first place, “i didn’t mean it, you know, i was trying to stop feeling and— i didn’t think it all through,” you start, mind racing with the various things you wanted to say, ”i said the things i knew would make you leave, i’m a mess right now, it would have been better if we had met two years ago, and then i would be able to love you properly.”
when you look up at him, he’s watching you with soft eyes, the ones that hold patience and hope you never thought you deserved to see again. “berry,” and the way he says that nickname sounds angelic to you, “i didn't keep pursuing you with the idea that we are both healed, being human means we're always healing and if i can't be kind to you while you're going through life, what kind of partner am i?”
you wonder how he knows exactly what words to say to cause your fluttering heart to calm down, and you see him extend his hand towards you, giving you the opportunity to accept or reject him, letting you know that you are the one calling the shots here, “you know, i read somewhere that attention is the beginning of devotion,” you pause, taking a deep breath as your eyes met his, reflecting the same emotions sparkling with adoration, “and you have always had all of mine,” the feeling of your fingers finally intertwined with his causes a smile to appear on his face.
holding hands. flushed cheeks. big shy smiles on your faces. eyes locked in yours. you realise he is the person you have been waiting all along to explore that part of you that has been hidden all this time.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ attachments:
i. friday, 7:09pm.
⠀ ACCIDENTAL (a.) happening by chance, unintentionally or unexpected.
his typing on the board was overshadowed by the sound of footsteps, catching his attention as a gentle knock on his desk caused his eyes to look up to find the younger boy, who always has something smart to say in his class, in front of him.
a mischievous smile adorning his face as he looked down at his teacher, “sooo,” he starts, dragging the ‘o’ as he sits on the desk, “winwin. . .”
the man who’s nickname was said, frowns, softly hitting the student’s thigh with a book, wanting him to get off his desk, “do not call me that, chenle.”
“boring,” he scoffed, standing in front of his professor, “well, professor sicheng,” the words rolling off his tongue with a grating voice, “how did you actually meet strawberry?”
he looks up, the frown more evident now, “don’t call her that either,” closing the laptop with a bit of too much strength, he points to his student, “and, to answer your question, i did, technically,” there was the word the always used when asked about it, “i met her here.”
“technically?”
his eyes linger for a second too long in his own hands, before putting the laptop inside his bag, “well. . .” he debated whether he should tell the truth or no, thinking that maybe that story should be yours to hear it first, “yes, i bumped into her in front of the neuroscience building, so,” he shrugged his shoulders, fixing his glasses before turning his attention to the younger boy, “what do you want?”
chenle smiles again, “you, my dear professor, i want your help.”
squinting his eyes, he analysed chenle’s face and somehow he couldn’t figure out what his words actually meant, so he shakes his head, “no,” he says while standing up from his chair, “i will not help you with whatever this is.”
his words elicited a gasp and widened eyes from chenle, quickly putting a hand over his chest, “as a professor, you should be helping me.”
“no,” he says, patting the younger boy’s back so he could start walking, “c’mon, i’m leaving, i have to go home to my wife.”
chenle started walking, while nudging his professor’s arm, “c’mon i just need you to partner me up with someone, you can do it!” he does consider stop to hear exactly what his student needs but then, the next words make him shake his head and push the younger boy out of his office, “aaand, she’s not your wife.”
“yet,” sicheng adds under his breath, because maybe it is too soon to even bring it up to you, but definitely those months you have been together are more than enough to consider planning it in his head.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ + observation: none of it was accidental.
⠀ ⠀ THIS LAB REPORT HAS BEEN EVALUATED.
note ! leaving the closet of 'winwin is my bias i miss him he needs to come home because the kids miss him too' it was made of glass but whatever, happy birthday to my baby, this was supposed to be short but once i started writing for him i couldn't stop, anyway as always i hope someone likes this! thank you for reading<3
“A CELEBRATION” — OR THE SIX MONTH ANNIVERSARY PT. 1
total word count: 9k+ | genre: fluff, smut | featured couples: 💘🪽, 🐾🐰 , 🕷️🐈⬛
synopsis -> none of the dream boys saw this coming. the same guys who once turned late-night texts into sport, who treated flings like trophies, who swore commitment was a curse word. and yet here they are now — the so-called retired fuckboys, better known these days as the loverboys — six months deep and hopelessly whipped for their girls. half a year might not sound like much to anyone else, but to them? it was monumental. and if there’s one thing they knew how to do, it was to celebrate in style.
“i’ll never get tired of loving you.”
pairing: jaemin x angel | word count: 3.3k+ | warnings: extreme fluff, smut, oral (f receiving), mutual masturbation
anniversary date: march 8, 2025
the park by the lake was quiet during the evening except for the soft hum of cicadas and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. you followed the little trail of fairy lights strung along the grass, curiosity growing with each step leading to the place your boyfriend texted you to meet.
when you finally reached the clearing, your breath caught. your favorite spot, the one you always went to after long classes, where you liked to paint and he liked to take pictures, was glowing. strings of fairy lights draped from the branches of huge oak tree, twinkling like stars had spilled onto the ground. a sage green picnic blanket spread out, topped with pillows, candles in jars and a large picnic basket.
you laughed, a soft, disbelieving sound, “jaemin…”
before you could finish, warm, solid arms slid around your waist from behind, pulling you back against a familiar chest. his chin rested on your shoulder as he murmured, “surprise, angel.”
turning in his arms, your hands instinctively found his shirt, curling into the fabric. he looked absolutely unfair under the glow — messy soft hair, shining eyes and that hopelessly lovesick smile he wore only for you.
“you’re too sweet,” you whispered, smiling even as your heart pounded in your chest.
“only for you,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, “come on.”
he guided you to the blanket, his hand never leaving yours. the moment you sat, you noticed the snacks — the exact ones that you craved on study nights, down to chips you once swore you hated but always stole from him.
before you could tease him about how well he knew you, jaemin pulled something from the picnic basket — a thick white scrapbook tied with a pink ribbon. his hands trembled slightly as he placed it in your lap.
“open it?”
your chest tightened. you untied the ribbon and opened the book — and immediately, tears stung your eyes. page after page was filled with photographs of you from the past six months of loving him. not staged. not pretending. just you. laughing with paint smeared on your cheek, sketching in this very park, stealing bites of his fries, sleeping with his hoodie draped over your shoulders, curled into his blankets, messy hair and everything, in the soft morning light. and each photo was surrounded by messy little notes in his handwriting:
❤︎ i’m on my guard for the rest of the world, but with you, i know it’s no good.
❤︎ just keep on keeping your eyes on me.
❤︎ in this moment now, capture it, remember it cause i don’t know how it gets better than this.
❤︎ angels do exist because you’re the proof.
“jaemin…” your voice broke, a tear slipping down your cheek.
he was there in an instant, thumbs brushing away the tears, kissing your skin between every word, “don’t cry, angel. it’s supposed to make you happy.”
“it does,” you whispered, clutching the scrapbook against your chest and looking up at him with those glass-stained eyes that made him weak in the knees every time, “i just…you love me so much.”
“of course i do,” he smiled, leaning in closer, his forehead pressing against yours, hands cradling your face. his voice was gentle, tender, steady–
“thanks for letting me fall for the real you. she’s my favorite.”
you sobbed a laugh, arms wrapping around him desperately. he held you tight, pressing kisses to your hair, your cheeks, your lips, smiling against your mouth.
“you’re so cheesy,” you whispered against his grin, hands cupping his face.
“and you love it,” he replied, kissing you again, longer this time, until you sighed against him.
the snacks were forgotten. music faded into the background. he pulled you closer. you kissed him harder and harder.
“angel…” he groaned, hands gripping your hips like you might disappear.
you tugged at his hair just enough to make him gasp, “you planned all this just to make me fall harder, huh?” you teased.
“worked, didn’t it?” he laughed breathlessly, before crashing his lips back onto yours – hotter this time, urgent, messy, teeth clashing, lips swollen.
you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, cheeks flushed, “wait,” you whispered, softly pushing him back and reaching into your bag by the picnic basket.
jaemin leaned back, boyish grin returning despite the heat in his eyes, “you’re killing me, angel. what could possibly be more important than me kissing you right now?” he groaned softly, like you’d just stolen his oxygen.
you laughed but your heart raced as you pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box, “this. i got you something too.”
his grin softened instantly, almost stunned. he sat up straight, brushing his fingers over the boy before glancing up at you, “you didn’t have to…”
“i wanted to,” you whispered, “open it.”
he untied the pink ribbon carefully, peeling back the paper until it revealed a silver bracelet, simple but polished, with a tiny charm shaped like an artist’s palette. his lips parted in awe. then you brought attention to the silver chain already circling your wrist, turning it over until he saw the miniature camera charm dangling from it.
his laugh cracked, soft and disbelieving, before it turned shaky, “you’re kidding.”
you shook your head, “nope…it’ us,” you smiled shyly, holding his gaze, “so now, even if we’re apart, we’ll still be carrying each other.”
his eyes filled with so much love it nearly knocked the breath out of you, “can you put it on for me? please.”
your fingers trembled slightly as you fastened the clasp around his wrist. when it clicked into place, jaemin caught your hand and pressed it flat against his chest, right over the rapid thrum of his heartbeat.
his voice dropped, wrecked and full of awe, “i’m so in love with you,” he whispered, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a soft kiss in your inner wrist, making your smile grow impossibly wider with every gentle action.
the matching bracelets glinted in the fairy lights as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you against him again. his lips found yours, soft at first, like he was sealing the promise into you before it deepened. he pulled you onto his lap without hesitation, until you were properly straddling him, your dress wrapping around the both of you.
the makeout session built quickly, your hips rolling down against him until he groaned low, muffled against your mouth. his lips trailed down to your jaw, your neck, sucking softly, making your nails dig into his shoulders.
“jaem–” you whispered half plea, half warning. he knew exactly what that meant.
“never stopping,” he breathed, kissing you rougher now. his hips pressed up into yours, slow and deliberate and you arched against him with a soft moan. the fairy lights, the soft background music, the world itself faded – leaving only heat, hung and the blinding certainty of love.
his hand slid to the small of your back, lowering you onto the blanket, his large frame hovering over yours. your legs parted instinctively, drawing him closer. his mouth claimed yours, desperate and all-consuming. his weight pressing you down in the best way.
he pulled back just long enough to see you — lips kiss-swollen, hair mussed, cheeks flushed under the glow of the golden fairy lights and his chest ached with how much he adored you.
he brushed your bottom lip with his thumb, whispering, “you’re so beautiful…i don’t think i’ll ever get enough of you.”
you kissed his palm, tugging him down with a grin, “then don’t.”
he smiled, worship already in his gaze as he kissed his way down your jaw, your throat, your collarbone — slow, unhurried, savoring every inch of you. by the time his hands wandered under your dress, your breath was coming in shaky little gasps.
he glanced up, lips brushing your skin as he murmured, “can i, angel?”
your nod was all he needed — in one smooth movement, he slid down the blanket, spreading your legs gently, reverently, before ducking under the fabric of your dress. the cool brush of his nose against your inner thigh made you jolt, a startled whimper escaping your throat.
“relax,” his voice rumbled from under the thin layer of fabric, lips sucking open-mouth kisses against your inner thighs, “i’ve got you.”
and then he was pushing your panties to the side and his mouth was on you. the first slow lick tore a breathy moan from your lips, your hands flying to clutch at his broad shoulders. his tongue worked over you like he’d been dreaming about this forever — slow, purposeful, savoring every flick, every press. he moaned softly against you, the vibration sparking through your core and making your hips jerk.
“jaemin–” you gasped, voice breaking despite your effort to stay quiet.
“i know you can be louder,” he murmured against your heat you can practically feel his smirk before his tongue swirled slowly, “i want to hear you.”
“w-were in public,” you whispered, fingers trembling around his shoulders.
in answer, he sucked harder, moaning against your skin like he wanted the vibrations to drag the sounds out of your throat. you bit down on your lip, but the noise still escaped — a broken, breathless sound that made him grin in satisfaction.
“fuck, angel,” he groaned between licks, his arms wrapping around your thighs, pulling you together against his face, “always so sweet for me.”
your hands scrambled down, bunching your dress up a little higher but not enough to reveal you. just enough so your fingers could twist in his hair as if he were the only thing tethering you to the earth.
he hummed at the tug, burying himself deeper, sucking gently until you were gasping his name like a prayer. every part of him was focused on you — his tongue circling, dipping, teasing. his nose brushing exactly where you needed it most. every moan he let spill into your skin sounded like encouragement. he didn’t let up, didn’t rush. he took his time to properly worship you.
a broken cry tear from your lips before you could stop it. “that’s it,” he whispered against you, his voice wrecked and reverent all at once, “that’s my angel, let go for me. i want to feel you fall apart on my mouth.”
his pace was devastating — the wet glide of his tongue dragging up and down your folds, prodding though your hole then sucking and swirling on your clit in that way that had your toes curling and your thighs trembling around his head as you tried to ground yourself in the messy pull of his hair. he only groaned like he loved the way you’ve trapped him there.
“jaemin—god—i’m so close,” your voice cracked, breath stuttering.
the pressure built fast, sharp and overwhelming until it snapped all at once, pleasure flooding your veins so fiercely your body shook. you cried out his name, pulling at his hair, grinding helpless against his mouth as wave after wave ripped through you.
jaemin worked you through it, steady and relentless. only when you were whimpering and shaking did he finally lift his head, pressing one last tender kiss against your inner thigh before sliding back up. his mouth was shiny with you when he kissed you deeply, lingering, warm, letting you taste yourself on his tongue before finally pulling back.
he grinned, smug and boyish, tucking himself against your side and pulling you into his arms like he couldn’t stand the thought of not touching you. you curled into him automatically, cheek pressed over his racing heartbeat, your legs tangled together.
the world was still spinning. you could still feel the echo of his tongue, the way he’d wrecked you with nothing but his lips.
but your boyfriend wasn’t done celebrating.
his lips caught yours again, hot and hungry, stealing the breath straight from your lungs as his hand slipped beneath your dress once more. his fingers moved with purpose, slow but sure, finding the damp heat of your panties and sliding past them with no permission this time like he owned the right.
you gasped into his mouth when he slid two digits into your slick and in the same moment your hands left his chest, dragging down his chest to tug open the button of his jeans, slipping inside to return the favor.
the first stroke of your hand around him made his body shudder. his groan vibrated against your mouth, low and guttural, even as his fingers pressed inside you, curling with devastating precision. he worked you open with deliberate thrusts but his own control kept faltering — because your fist was stroking him the way you knew ruined him every time.
he bucked helplessly into your hand, lips falling part against yours, “angel–” his voice cracked into the kiss, a ragged moan slipping free before he could catch it, “fuck, you’re–oh my god.”
you smirked against his mouth, your thumb brushing over the slick head. his whole body jolted, a desperate whimper vibrating against your lips. you swallowed it with another kiss, pumping him tighter, faster, teasing the sensitive underside with your palm.
“you’re so hard,” you whispered against his lips, voice shaky with your own pleasure as his fingered pressed deep inside you, “and you’re falling apart already.”
his answer was a broken groan. he shoved another finger into you, pumping fast, thumb circling your clit in messy, desperate strokes. the stretch overwhelming. meanwhile, the moans tearing out of him grew wrecked and uneven, every thrust of your hand unraveling him. he buried his face in your neck, muffling the filthy moan there s your wrist twisted around him just the way he loved.
“god–please,” he choked, every muscle tense under your touch, “you’re gonna make me–” he lifted his head just enough to kiss you again, sloppy and desperate.
your own climax was surging fast under his relentless hand, fire licking through your veins. his hips kept bucking into your fist, torn between chasing release and holding on. you whimpered into his kiss, your free hand coming down to clutch his wrist like you’d break if he stopped, your other hand stroked him faster, coaxing him closer, coaxing him to break.
the kiss turned frantic – tongues sliding, teeth clashing, both of you swallowing each other’s moans like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.
“fuck–fuck, angel, i’m gonna cum,” he panted, biting at your lip, his voice wrecked beyond recognition. his whole body shook in your hold, every breath shallow, broken.
“me too—don’t stop,” you begged, clinging to him, hips grinding helpless against his hand.
the heat swelled between you until it was unbearable, bodies tightening together, hands moving in frantic, desperate rhythm. his thumb pressed harder against your clit and you cried out into his mouth just as he spilled hot and messy in yours.
the sound of his moan, the way his body shook apart in your hand, was enough to drag you under with him. your climax hit violent and hard, wetness gushing over his fingers as your thighs locked tight around his wrist.
the world dissolved into heat and trembling limbs and breathless, messy kisses. he collapsed against you, chest heaving, sweat dampening his hair, while your hand stayed on each other, still trembling even though you were both utterly undone.
for a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your breathing and the wild thrum of your hearts. sticky, shaky, you clung to each other like lifelines.
then, with a sly, exhausted smile, jaemin lifted his hand between you, fingers glistening in the low light, slick with your release. you felt your face burn as he brought them to his lips without hesitation, sucking each finger into his mouth slowly. his eyes never left yours as his tongue curled around them, tasting you ilke you were the sweetest thing he’d ever had.
“jaemin–” you whispered, half scandalized, half aroused all over again.
he hummed around his fingers before pulling them free with a soft pop, “couldn’t waste a drop,” he winked and before you could reply, he caught your wrist, bringing your sticky palm to his lips as he kissed and licked the traces of himself from your skin, tongue warm and gentle as he cleaned you just the same.
“y-you need to stop that before i go for a round three,” you said sternly, though your voice trembled.
his laugh burst out, low and wrecked but still boyish, “i’m ready when you are.”
but before either of you could test it, your stomach betrayed you with a loud grumble. jaemin froze. then snorted. his grin breaking wide as he carefully fixed your dress with exaggerated care and zipped his pants back up.
then he reached for the picnic basket, mischief dancing in his eyes, soft and smug all at once before flipping open the lid, “good thing i came prepared,” he announced proudly, grabbing the wipes and cleaning his hands up first before pulling out neatly packed containers.
you blinked, sitting up straight now as each one came to view – one stacked with glistening slices of samgyeopsal, another with fresh lettuce leaves and a smaller tub of kimchi. the sight made your mouth water immediately.
“refuel first?” he teased, flashing you that boyish grin.
“god, i love you,” you whispered slowly, eyes wide while he was already rolling a perfect lettuce wrap with practiced ease.
he chuckled softly, “just doing my boyfriend duties,” he said lightly, but the way he glanced up at you, eyes warm and almost shy, betrayed how much it meant to him, “feed you before and after i wear you out.”
you smacked his chest, laughing. he only grinned wider, holding the wrap just out of reach, “say ah.”
you roll your eyes, but the second he leans forward and presses the wrap to your lips, you don’t argue. you take a huge bite, juice dripping down the side of your mouth. jaemin watches you amused, thumb catching the sauce before it can trail down your chin. the savory, smoky flavor melted on your tongue and a groan of delight escaped before you could stop it.
“good?” he asked, already making another.
“good?” you glared at him, chewing furiously, “this is incredible. you’re perfect.”
“and you’re beautiful,” he countered easily, leaning over to lick the smear of sauce off your bottom lip with no hesitation. you freeze, breath hitching, while he grins against your mouth like he knows exactly what he’s doing, “hmm, tastes better this way.”
you swat his chest, but your laugh betrays you, and jaemin just keeps going — feeding you another bite, teasing every spill, “accidentally” brushing his thumb against your lips only to chase it with his mouth again. by the time he lets you return the favor and feed him, you’re both laughing too hard to chew properly, cheeks aching from smiling.
then in the middle of it all, he kissed you — soft and slow and innocent. his smile brushing warm against your skin as he whispered—
“happy six months, angel. i’ll never get tired of loving you.”
you looked up at him, lips curving into a smile you couldn’t fight. the world felt small and safe in this moment — just you and him.
you were about to tease him again for being so cheesy when you noticed him digging in the picnic basket. instead of food, he pulled out his polaroid camera.
“wait—jaem—” you started, laughing as he held it up.
“smile for me,” he said, eyes twinkling.
before you could protest, the shutter clicked, the flash bursting under the fairy lights. you groaned, burying your face in his chest, “i probably look insane right now.”
“you look perfect,” he said without hesitation, shaking the photo until the image slowly bloomed into focus. he held it up between his fingers, eyes softening as though he’s just caught proof of magic. there you were — flushed and glowing, hair a little mussed, and that sparkle in your eye — the one that always appeared when he was the one behind the camera.
his thumb brushed lightly across the glossy surface as if the captured version of you were just as precious as the real thing in front of him. a low, satisfied hum slipped from him, as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.
setting the camera aside, he reached for the scrapbook he’d gifted you earlier, flipping to an empty page with practiced ease. he slid the fresh photo in and pulled out a pen. his handwriting was messy, but careful as he scrawled beneath it:
six months down, forever to go.
𝜗ৎ
“i’ve never known a life without you and i don’t ever want to.”
pairing: jeno x bunny | word count: 5k+ | warnings: extreme fluff, smut, sex, nipple-play, implied riding
anniversary date: april 16, 2025
the day started with jeno showing up at your door with a mischievous grin and his car keys swinging around one finger.
“no hints,” he’d said, holding your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, “just trust me.”
and of course you did. you always did.
the drive was easy, familiar. your shared playlist hummed in the background, his free hand drumming on the wheel, occasionally reaching over to tap your knee like he couldn’t go too long without touching you.
it didn’t take long before the streets started to look recognizable — your neighborhood. you blinked, a smile tugging at your lips as you looked out the car window. the old corner store. the bakery your mom loved. the rows of houses with chipped paint that you’ve memorized by now.
“bunny,” he said softly.
you glance at him, “yeah?”
“we’re home.”
your chest squeezed. technically, it wasn’t like you hadn’t been here recently — the two of you always came back together every christmas break. but there was something different about being here now, in the middle of your busy semester, away from the chaos of university life. it felt like a secret pocket of time, a stolen breath of fresh air.
“i like being here with you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
his smile softened, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, “yeah. me too,” he says, before placing a soft kiss on your inner wrist.
as if on cue, he turned the car into the little park you both knew by heart. the one where your parents used to push your strollers side by side before either of you could walk. where scraped knees and sticky popsicle fingers had defined entire summers.
and of course, the same park where you had stolen his first kiss. not out of romance, not back then, but out of sheer curiosity — two kids daring to figure out what the big deal was about kissing.
he pulled you toward the old swing set, plopping into the seat and gesturing at the one beside him. for a moment, it felt like the years had folded in on themselves. you could almost see your younger selves running barefoot across the grass.
“do you remember when our moms used to bring us here almost every morning?”
you sat beside him, the chains groaning like they always had, “yeah, i remembered you used to be scared when it would get too high,” you point out.
his ears turned red, “i was, like, seven.”
“you cried,” you teased.
“did not!”
“did too!”
your laughter tangled together as he pushed off, rocking the swing lazily. the sight made your heart flutter. because no matter how old you got, this was still jeno — the boy who lived next door, who shared snacks and secrets, who held your hand when you cried, who never let go even as you grew up. the boy you love wholeheartedly.
from the swings, he tugged you over to the monkey bars, pressing a hand against the hot metal, “you got stuck up there when you were ten.”
you groaned, “don’t remind me.”
“you cried for your dad but guess which big strong man climbed up and got you down?” he smirked, puffing his chest, and flexing his arms, showing off the biceps he definitely didn’t have when he was ten years old.
“please,” you scoffed playfully, “you were shaking and you nearly broke your arm,” you reminded him, poking his side, “in the end, we were crying together.”
“at least you weren’t crying alone,” he winked, earning a laugh from you as he pulled you again, this time stopping right in front of the slide.
the metal glinted faintly in the morning sun, still chipped. his grin turned sofer this time, more private.
“this is where you stole my first kiss,” he said quietly.
your stomach flipped. you remembered it perfectly — the sun dipping low, the air sticky with sugar and sweat. you’d been sitting at the top of the slide, legs dangling, when you’d suddenly turned to him and blurted, “wanna try it?” he’d blinked, wide-eyed and confused behind his thick glasses, and you’d clarified, “kissing.”
fourteen year old jeno had nearly fallen off the slide. but before he could respond, your lips were already on his.
you smiled at the memory, “you were so awkward.”
“i was terrified,” he admitted with a laugh, “i thought you were playing some trick on me.”
“and then i kissed you and you ran away.”
“i didn’t run,” he defended, eyes narrowing in mock offence, “i…strategically retreated.”
you burst into soft giggles, leaning against him. he let you, his arm automatically curling around your waist. the closeness felt different now than it had back then. familiar, yes — but charged too, humming with something deeper, older, more permanent.
he tilted his head toward you, his voice softer this time, “i still remember exactly how it felt, though.
your heart stuttered, "really?”
“yeah,” he murmured, gazing down at you with that steady, warm look that always melted your defenses, “i think…maybe i started falling for you even then. i just didn’t know what it was.”
you blinked, stunned in silence for a moment. he just smiled, giving your waist a little squeeze, before his finger soflty tipped your chin up, his eyes glowed with that same warm, steady affection you’d known all your life. something that now made your stomach twist in that new, dizzy way you were still getting used to.
“what?” you asked, self-conscious under his gaze.
“just thinking,” he said softly.
“dangerous.”
that earned you the grin you were fishing for, but he didn’t take the bait. instead his thumb brushed over your cheek, “you stole my first kiss here,” he murmured, “kinda feels like i should take it back.”
and then he was leaning in, no hesitation this time. the kiss was nothing like the clumsy blur of lips years ago, nothing like the panicked half-second you’d laughed about later. this was slow, sure, sweet, the kind of kiss that said i know you, i’ve always known and i want you still.
you sighed against his mouth, melting into the familiarity of him, the way his hand cradled your face, the way his chest pressed warm against your side. when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, his grin was lopsided but soft, “there. properly reclaimed.”
you swatted his arm weakly, though your heart was hammering, “you can’t just reclaim a kiss like it’s lost property.”
“yes, i can,” he teased, nuzzling his nose against yours, “especially when it was stolen in the first place.”
from the park, it was only a short drive before jeno was pulling into the tiny corner lot of the ice cream shop. the same one with the faded white cement and the squeaky doorbell that had greet you every summer since you were kids.
the inside hadn’t changed a bit. same baby blue striped walls, same glass case full of too many choices, same smell of sugar cones and waffle batter clinging to the air. even the old owner waved when she saw you two walking, like she always did, calling you by name.
“two scoops?” she guessed, already reaching for the scooper.
jeno grinned at her like a little boy, “make mine three this time, please.”
you groaned, elbowing him lightly as you leaned on the counter, “still vanilla, huh? you’ve had the same flavor every year since forever.”
“why fix perfection?” he shot back, smug, “besides, vanilla is classic. reliable. like me.”
you snorted, “more like boring.”
the teasing only grew when you got your usual, chocolate chip cookie dough in a waffle cone with the tiniest drizzle of fudge on top. jeno eyed it like it was forbidden treasure.
“you’re not even gonna let me have a bite, are you?” he asked as you both slide into your old booth by the window, the one with initials carved into the side from when you were fifteen.
“last time i shared, you ate half of my scoop,” you reminded him, holding your cone possessively.
he leaned across the table, eyes gleaming, “that’s because chocolate tastes better when it’s yours.”
you rolled your eyes and with a reluctant sigh, you offered the cone toward him, “one bite. that’s it.”
jeno’s lips closed around the tip of the cone, tongue flicking against the melting fudge before he hummed like he was tasting fine wine, “mmm. yep. even better than i remembered.”
he shoved his cup towards you, “here, fair trade. try mine.”
you eyed the vanilla, “neno. it’s vanilla. what could possible surprise me?”
he jutted the cup closer, “don’t diss the classics. just try it.”
with a dramatic sigh, you scooped a spoonful and popped it into your mouth. simple. smooth. sweet. just like him.
when you looked up, he was watching you too closely.
“well?” he asked, feigning casual.
you shrugged, “again, it’s vanilla,” and then, just to mess with him, you added, “it tastes like you.”
that knocked him back — his ears turned pink instantly. six months of being your lover and he still wasn’t used to hearing words like that fall so easily from your lips, “you can’t just say stuff like that,” he muttered, shoveling a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth, like maybe ice cream could cool the blush spreading down his neck.
you only grinned wider, licking your cone smugly, “what? it’s a compliment. you’re sweet.”
his eyes narrowed over the rim of his cup, “you’re enjoying this way too much.”
“obviously,” you said brightly, taking a dramatic lick of your ice cream just to rub it in. and when his gaze flickered to your mouth for half a second too long, you caught it. the grin that spread across your face made him groan.
then, without warning, he scooped a bit of vanilla with his spoon and dabbed it right on your cheek. you gasped, sitting back, “JENO!”
he smirked, spoon still raised like a weapon, “that’s what you get for running your mouth.”
“you started a war you can’t win,” you shot back, shoving your cookie dough ice cream straight onto the tip of his nose. his eyes crossed trying to look at it, then he burst into laughter so hard his shoulders shook.
within seconds it devolved into quick, messy swipes — him dabbing little spoonfuls of vanilla on your jaw, you smearing cookie dough across his cheek. neither of you could go far in the cramped booth so it turned into close, playful nudges, your knees bumping, your laughter echoing in the small space.
“look at you,” he teased, leaning just enough to admire his work, “sweet and sticky.”
you shoved at his chest, giggling, and before you could react, he leaned in and licked the smear of vanilla right off your cheek.
your eyes went wide, nose scrunching at the ticklish swipe of his tongue, “jeno! that’s disgusting!”
“effective,” he countered, grinning, “see? clean.”
you groaned, dabbing your cheek with a napkin, “you are so gross.”
he just shrugged, shoulders shaking with laughter, “hey, you brought this on yourself. tease me and i’ll fight back.”
by the time the “battle” ended, both your desserts were beyond saving — your cone was cracked down the middle, ice cream dripping onto a pile of napkins, and jeno’s once-perfect vanilla was more soup than scoop from all his reckless spoon attacks.
“look at us,” you said between giggles, trying to wipe the sticky residue off your hands with yet another napkin, “two university students acting like kindergarteners again.”
jeno leaned in closer, “your fault.”
“you started it!” you shot back, dabbing at the mess on his jaw. his skin was warm under your touch, his smile softer now as he held still and let you properly clean him up.
“you’re good at this,” he murmured, eyes following your movements like it was the most natural thing in the world to let you fuss over him.
“good at babysitting?” you teased.
he chuckled, gently plucking the napkin from your fingers and returning the favor, brushing it across your cheek with the gentlest care, “good at taking care of me.”
the quiet that settled after was comfortable, filled with the hum of the shop. he pressed one last napkin to your nose, making you wrinkle it and laughed softly, “there. all clean.”
and when you both stood up, there was no hesitation — his hand found yours, fingers slotting together like they’d been doing it all their lives. the bell above the parlor door jingled as you stepped back into afternoon air, the faint sweetness of vanilla and cookie dough still lingering on your lips, laughter still bubbling in your chest.
“you know,” you teased, bumping his shoulder with yours as you walked, “if you wanted an excuse to lick ice cream off my face, you could’ve just asked.”
jeno squeezed your hand, that boyish grin sneaking back, “who said i needed an excuse?”
your laughter bubbled over again as the two of you strolled down the familiar street, hand in hand — a sticky mess but happier than ever.
by the time the car rolled into your driveway, the half melted streaks of vanilla on your shirt felt sticky under the sunlight, you grimaced, tugging at the fabric like it was the biggest tragedy in the world. you jogged lightly to the front door, the sticky remnants of chocolate chip cookie dough still clinging to your fingers, and reached under the little potted plant by the doorstep, tugging the door open and stepping inside.
the smell of home hit you instantly — faint cedar, your dad’s aftershave lingering somewhere, and the comfort of everything you’d known for years. the house was silent. your dad was out golfing with jeno’s dad. the thought made you smile. it was just the two of you. just the creak of the stairs as you tugged jeno up toward your room.
he stepped inside after you, shutting the door quietly behind him. his presence immediately filled the familiar space in a way that felt… different. electric, charged, thrilling. you’d been here together dozens of times before — homework sessions sprawled across your bedroom floor, movie marathons, laughter echoing through the halls — but never like this. never as your boyfriend.
his eyes flicked around like nothing had changed since he was last here — except, of course, it had.
“god,” you muttered, glancing down at your stained shirt, “i look like a kid who lost a food fight.”
jeno leaned against your bedroom door with that lazy grin of his, arms folded as his eyes trailed over you, “still the prettiest loser i’ve ever seen.”
you threw a pillow at him, which he caught effortlessly, “don’t start.”
“what? it’s true,” he pushed off the door and crossed to you in a few strides, his hands sliding naturally around your waist. his voice dropped lower, teasing but threaded with heat, “besides, you don’t have to change. you know i like making a mess out of you.”
your pulse skipped, “jeno–”
“you’re the one who dragged me in here. you knew what you were doing,” he chuckled, kissing your temple before stealing the hem of your shirt between his fingers like he was just curious
you swatted at his chest half-heartedly, “at least let me clean up first.”
he smirked, leaning down until his nose brushed yours, “fine. but i’m helping.”
which, of course meant he’d do the exact opposite of helping. you barely managed to tug open your dresser for a clean shirt before his hands slid over your hips, his mouth tracing the line of your jaw, leaving soft, teasing kisses that made your knees weaken slightly.
“jeno,” you groaned, laughter tangled with exasperation, “you said you’d help.”
“i am,” he said innocently against your skin, teeth grazing your earlobe just enough to make you shiver, “helping you take this off.”
you tried to hold your ground, but it was impossible with him so close. his palms slide higher, carefully tugging your shirt over your head before tracing the curve of your waist, then lower, fingers sneaking through the belt loop of your jeans.
“jeno—” you whispered, trying for stern, but your voice betrayed you when he sucked a wet kiss at the side of your throat like he knew exactly how to get you. he was everywhere at once – warm, insistent, the familiar weight of his large hands now exploring with a new, bolder purpose.
“hmm?” he murmured, all feigned innocence while his fingers slid down the waistband of your jeans just to toy with the button.
you caught his wrist weakly, “you’re not helping,” you mutter, a small smirk on your face.
the room felt charged, your childhood walls suddenly too small to contain the tension winding between you. every brush of his fingers, every soft kiss, felt like it echoed louder than the creak of the floor beneath your feet.
when he finally popped the button of your jeans open with a practiced flick, you swore you felt your heart jump into your throat. his hands lingered at your waistline, playful but heavy with intent.
“you don’t mind, do you?” jeno whispered, his nose brushing your jaw again, eyes glinting as his fingers tugged at the zipper just enough to tease.
your breath hitched and before you could answer, jeno’s hands tightened at your waist, turning you in his arms with a suddenness that made your back press to the dresser. the half-smirk on his face melted as his mouth found yours — hungry, unyielding, stealing every bit of breath left in your lungs.
your jeans slipped lower with his insistence, pooling at your ankles before you even registered him nudging them down, leaving you in your underwear, body molding instinctively to his as he pressed closer. he was still fully dressed, the rough denim of his jeans and the soft cotton of his shirt brushing against your bare skin in contrast made you shiver.
the unfairness of it only fueled the heat between you — him towering over you, teasing you, still so put together while you felt like you were unraveling his arms.
his lips broke from yours just long enough to murmur against your mouth, his breath hot, teasing “see? much better like this.”
you rolled your eyes even as your fingers wrapped around his neck, tugging him closer, “you’re so annoying.”
“hmm,” he hummed, kissing you again, deeper this time, his hands roaming shamelessly over your bare back, tracing down the curve of your spine, “and you like it.”
the kiss deepened, greedy, until jeno’s hands slid lower again, gripping the back of your thighs. you let out a startled laugh into his mouth when he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist like instinct.
“neno—” you tried, but the protest melted the second his tongue swept against yours, swallowing the sound whole. he carried you across the familiar room with a steadiness that made your heart hammer, his mouth never leaving yours except to trail wet kisses down your jaw. when your back hit the edge of the bed, he lowered you slowly onto the mattress, hovering above you.
the mattress creaked under your weight, the sound strangely loud in the silence of the house. jeno braced one knee on the bed, leaning down to kiss you again, his palms sliding from your waist to your ribs, his thumbs grazing the edge of your bra.
“we should’ve done this years ago,” he murmured, his voice husky, a private admission against your lips.
your laugh came breathless, a little shaky, “better late than never?”
his grin curved against your mouth as his hands finally skimmed higher, bold now, cupping you through thin fabric. your back arched at his touch, a sharp gasp slipping past your lips. he drank it all in, every reaction from you a personal reward. your gasp spurred him on, the sound making his smirk deepen as his fingers worked at the clasp of your bra. it gave way with practiced ease, the straps sliding down your shoulders until the fabric fell away completely. his eyes flicked down, dark and reverent, before his mouth was on you.
“god, you’re perfect,” he groans as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking softly, teasing with this tongue in slow, deliberate circles. his hand cupped the other, thumb flicking over the hardened bud, making you arch beneath him.
your breath stuttered, a broken “jeno–” slipping out before his mouth pulled harder, sucking until your toes curled against the sheets. he hummed against your skin, clearly pleased, his other hand sliding lower. calloused fingers tracing over the band of your underwear before dipping beneath, brushing against your slick warmth. the lightest graze over your clit had your hips twitching upward, a sharp inhale leaving you.
“already so wet,” he whispered against your breast, his tone both teasing and awed, the words vibrating against your skin as he sucked again. your nails dug into his shoulders, half wanting to push him closer, half needing something to ground yourself.
“neno—please—” you whined, softly, squirming under his touch, needing more.
he chuckled, low and smug, “all those days playing video games when i could’ve been playing with you like this,” his fingers pressed harder against your clit, rubbing faster, making your breath catch, a whiny moan slipping past your lips, your reply stuck somewhere in your throat as heat coiled low in your belly.
your voice came out broken between gasps, “neno, i need you—”
the words cracked something in him. his teasing session immediately replaced by something hungrier. you tugged at the hem of his shirt impatiently and he let you strip it off him, both of you fumbling with urgency, your laughter catching in between kisses when his hair got ruffled from pulling it over his head.
your fingers traced over the lean muscle of his chest before you slid lower, brushing over the bulge in his jeans that was already straining. he hissed, biting down on his bottom lip as you made quick work of his belt and zipper and then he was helping you shove the denim down.
the moment he was free, your breath hitched. he was already hard, flushed, throbbing against his stomach. he kissed you then, soft and slow, forehead leaned against yours as he pushed your underwear down.
“ready?” he whispered, his voice ragged, almost breaking with restraint.
you nodded instantly, pulling him closer, wrapping your legs around his hips, “always.”
that was all it took. his breath caught as he lined himself up, the thick head of his cock nudging at your entrance. he kissed you again as he pushed in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you with a delicious ache that had your nails digging into his back.
“fuck,” he groaned into your mouth, his hand gripping your thigh tighter as he sank all the way in, filling you completely. he stilled there, forehead pressed to yours, both of you breathing heavily in the silence of your childhood bedroom as he gave you time to adjust to him.
when he finally pulled back, his thrusts were slow but hard, each one dragging every nerve-ending raw. the steady rhythm of his hips rocked through you, deep and unrelenting, the sound of your bodies moving together drowned out by the soft, desperate gasps spilling between kisses.
“god, you feel so good,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you again, swallowing every moan he drew out of you.
the longer he stayed buried inside you, the harder it was for him to hold back. his rhythm faltered, stuttered, his hips beginning to snap harder against yours. your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him in deeper, nails clawing at his back.
“jeno,” you gasped, meeting him thrust for thrust.
he broke from your mouth, groaning low into your shoulder, his breath hot and ragged, “i–fuck–i can’t go slow,” his voice was strained, almost desperate.
“then don’t,” you panted, your body arching to meet him again, harder this time, chasing the way it made your breath catch, “—harder, neno—please.”
the plea snapped the last of his restraint. he pulled back just enough to look at you — flushed, hair sticking to your forehead, eyes blown wide — and then he drove into you with a force that made the mattress squeak beneath you and your eyes roll to the back of your head.
he buried his face against your throat, his thrusts now messy and unrelenting, each one harder than the last, his large hands wrapping around the small of your back as he arched you up towards him. you met him eagerly, hips slapping against his to match his rhythm, your voice breaking s you urged him on, fingers digging into his shoulders to pull him in impossibly closer,
“yes—ahh—neno—just like that—please”
he groaned in response, gripping your waist so tight you swore he’d leave marks, pounding into you with a need that was raw and overwhelming.
“god, bunny,” he gasped, your name falling apart on his tongue, “i’m s-so fucking gone for you.”
the knot inside you coiled unbearably tight, each deep, messy snap of his hips sending sparks down your spine.
“jeno–” you gasped, eyes squeezing shut, your voice cracking, “i’m gonna cum—i’m gonna cum—”
his rhythm turned frantic, desperate, his moans muffled against your lips as if he was trying to swallow every sound you made until the coil inside you snapped all at once, your climax tearing through you with a force that left you crying out his name, body clenching around him so tightly, it dragged a ragged groan from his chest.
he barely managed another thrust before he was gone too, hips slamming against yours as he came undone, hot and overwhelming, spilling inside you with a broken moan of your name. his whole body shuddered, collapsing against you as if you’d stolen the last of his strength.
for a moment, the only sounds were your uneven breaths and the frantic pounding of his heart against your chest until the rush of it all faded into warmth. the kind that settled deep in your chest. jeno stayed pressed against you for a while, his breath fanning over your collarbone, lips brushing lazy kisses there as if to soothe you both down from the high.
eventually he rolled over to your side, wrapping you tight into his side. naked skin against naked skin, your legs tangled like you’d always belonged this way. his fingers traced absent little shapes on your waist while your own hand rested over his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat.
the silence was comfortable like every other moment of your lives together, except now it hummed with something sweeter.
“you’re staring,” you murmured eventually, catching the weight of his gaze.
he grinned, sheepish but unashamed, “can you blame me?”
you groaned, burying your face into his chest to hide your blush, “you’re so sappy.”
“yeah,” he chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear and kissing your forehead, “you make me this way.”
the two of you stayed wrapped up like that for what felt like forever, giggles breaking the quiet here and there when jeno’s hands wandered to tickle your side or when you teased him about how messy his hair looked. it was soft, silly and so completely you two.
then, jeno shifted, leaning over the edge of the bed to grab something from the pocket of his jeans that were discarded on the floor, his palm closed tight around something.
your brows furrowed, curiosity sparking, “what’s that?”
he bit back a smile, opening his hand to reveal a small silver ring, simple, but etched with both of your initials.
“jeno…” your voice cracked softly, eyes widening in slight shock, “you’re not proposing, are you?” you teased, arching a brow at him, trying to keep it playful and calm your beating heart.
jeno let out a laugh, warm and boyish, his head dropping briefly to your shoulder as if you’d just said the funniest thing. when he lifted it again, his grin was wide enough to crinkle his eyes in that way you loved so much.
“propose?” he repeated, shaking his head, “you really think i’d propose with a ring this small?”
you swatted his chest, giggling, “hey! it’s perfect.”
he caught your hand mid-swat, kissing your knuckles softly before letting his eyes meet yours, all fondness beneath the teasing, “it’s not a proposal. not yet—” he smirks teasingly before his eyes turned soft, filled with adoration, “— it’s a promise.”
his voice softened, the words wrapping around you warmly. he slipped it onto your finger with careful hands and you let him, his thumb brushing over your knuckle as his voice softened, the words wrapping around you warmly —
“i’ve never known a life without you and i don’t ever want to. happy six months, bunny.”
you felt your throat tighten, tears threatening to fall even though he was still smiling at you like it was nothing. and with that, you pulled him back in your arms, the ring cool against his warm skin as you held him close, knowing that you’d just fallen even harder.
“so…” you sniffled, trying to cover your emotion with another smirk, “if this is just a promise, what would a real proposal look like?”
jeno only laughed, tucking you against his chest, murmuring against your hair, “guess you’ll just have to stick around to find out, bunny.”
you giggled before tilting your head, brushing your lips over his jaw. once. twice. slow, deliberate.
jeno shifted slightly, catching on, his chest rumbling with a low laugh, “already?”
“mhmm,” your hum vibrated against his skin as you pressed another kiss beneath his ear, “you can’t just say things like that and expect me not to want you all over again.”
he smirked, hand sliding down to grip your thigh, pulling you tighter against him. and just like that, the charged air returned, sweet melting into hungry as you rolled on top of him.
“taking charge, huh?” he murmured, voice husky but amused.
you bent to kiss him, slow and unhurried, “just returning the favor.”
his laugh melted into a groan as you sank down on him, his grip tightening like he couldn’t bear to let you go. the world blurred — all warmth, soft sighs, and the promise circling your finger catching in the light as you braced yourself over him.
𝜗ৎ
“you’re it for me.”
pairing: mark x kitten | word count: 1.3k+ | warnings: extreme fluff, implied sex
anniversary date: may 4, 2025
you slipped your key into the lock, twisting the knob open to the familiar hush of your apartment. as soon as you entered, you were greeted by the unfamiliar flow of fairy lights, pink balloons floating gently at the ceiling and roses, pink and fresh and perfect, filling every vase, every corner. your coffee table was spread of all the your favorite takeout containers stacked together.
and then you noticed the walls — sticky notes. dozens of them. a patchwork of pastel colors, each one messy with the handwriting you knew by heart. you stepped inside slowly, your shoes forgotten by the door, your eyes catching words as you passed.
❤︎ i still can’t believe you’re mine.
❤︎ every song i write starts and ends with you.
❤︎ my life is in pieces but you could always put it back together with your fragments.
❤︎ all the rom-coms in the world can’t portray the kind of love i have for you.
❤︎ who needs spiderman, when i have you?
❤︎ loving you is the easiest thing i’ve ever done.
❤︎ kitten, thank you for letting me love you.
your throat tightened painfully, tears prickling before you could even stop them. and then you felt it — his arms, sliding around your waist from behind. the brush of his lips against your temple. the warmth of him, always anchoring you.
“surprise,” mark whispered, his voice low, rough like he’d been holding it back all night, “happy six months, kitten.”
you gasped softly, leaning into him instinctively, your fingers wrapping over his where they pressed against your stomach, “mark,” your voice cracked, small and trembling, “you did all this?”
“too much?” he turned you gently, facing him. his smile was soft, almost shy, but his eyes were steady, shining like he’d been waiting for this moment.
you shook your head instantly, voice breaking, “no. it’s–” you laughed as a tear slip from your eyes, his thumb quick and careful to brush it away, “it’s perfect.”
mark’s smile softened, “wanted to show you what you mean to me,” he murmured, forehead tipping against yours, hands brushing over your waist like he was still nervous, like he hadn’t been yours for six full months already —
“every note on these walls? they don’t even come close to what i feel, kitten.”
your tears spilled freely now, though you were laughing, shaking your head as you cupped his face, “you’re going to ruin me, mark lee,” you whispered, voice thick with love.
he only laughed quietly, dipping down to kiss the corner of your mouth, gentle like a secret, “good. then we’re even,” he teased softly, though the sincerity never left his eyes.
before you could say more, he shifted, tugging your hand, “come here, i have one more surprise.”
you let him guide you to the couch, still blinking through tears as he sat you down. he kissed your temple once, lingering there, before stepping away. when he crouched, reaching behind the couch. your brows furrowed in curiosity – until he pulled out his guitar, worn and familiar in his hands.
“mark…” your voice softened, half a laugh, half disbelief, “you didn’t.”
“i did.” he said simply, settling into the spot beside you, guitar across his lap. his fingers skimmed over the strings, the movements so natural, like the instrument was an extension of him. he glanced at you once, sheepish but glowing, before focusing on the frets.
“it’s not… polished—” he said, almost nervous now. he wasn’t sure why he even said it. he made sure this was perfect, went over it almost a million times. “—but it’s ours. just listen, yeah?”
you nodded, tucking your legs up on the couch, hugging a pillow close to your chest as though it could hold in the tidal wave already building in you.
and then he played — the first chords slipped into the air, raw and imperfect but beautiful. his voice was quiet at first, low and vulnerable, like the words were meant for you and you alone. you’d heard him sing a hundred times, but this was different. this wasn’t for the world, wasn’t for an audience—this was his heart in melody, every line written with you in mind.
you pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to contain the sob threatening to escape. every lyric pulled at something deep inside you — the girl who once swore she’d never believe in love again, the girl who thought she’d lost that part of herself forever — he had found you, piece by piece, and brought you back to life.
when he finally strummed the last chord, the silence that followed was heavy with everything unsaid.
mark looked at you then, almost nervous, like he hadn’t just handed you his entire heart in a song.
“it’s true,” he whispered, setting the guitar gently aside, his hand found yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles, “when i’m lost, you guide me home.”
the tears you’d been holding spilled freely, and you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him before words could even form. he caught you instantly, pulling you into his lap, his face buried in your neck as you both shook with laughter and tears all at once.
“i love you,” you breathed against his skin, over and over, as though you could etch it into him the way he’d just etched himself into you.
and mark, smiling through the dampness in his eyes, whispered it right back, soft and certain, “i love you too, kitten. more than anything.”
his words melted against your skin, warm and certain and when he pulled back just enough to see your face, you cupped his cheeks and leaned in. your lips met his in a kiss that was slow, unhurried, almost trembling with how much it carried.
mark sighed into you, the sound soft and content, his hands cradling your waist like you were something fragile and sacred. the kiss deepened with the weight of all the months you both had been afraid to believe a love like this was real.
your mouths curved into quiet smiles against each other, kissing again and again, sweet and lingering. he pressed one to your jaw, your temple, the tip of your nose — little reminders that he loved every piece of you.
“kitten,” he whispered between kisses, voice husky but tender, “you’re it for me.”
you laughed softly, your forehead resting against his, whispering back like a vow, “and you’re it for me.”
and in the hush of your apartment, surrounded by fairy lights and roses, you kissed again, slower time time — just love in its purest, gentlest form.
mark’s hands slid carefully along your sides, coaxing you back until you were lying down against the couch cushions. he followed you, bracing himself above you, his smile soft and almost shy, even now.
he bent to kiss you again, just as slow, before his lips wandered — tracing down your jaw, lingering at the hollow of your throat. each kiss was reverent, tender, like he was memorizing you all over again.
“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice warm and low, like he couldn’t help but say it out loud.
his lips never hurried, never rushed — just a trail of warmth over every inch of you he could reach, each kiss steady and full of quiet devotion. your laughter slipped out in little bursts whenever his stubble tickled against your skin, only for him to hush you with another kiss, grinning against your collarbone.
the world outside didn’t matter, not with the way he held you down so gently, as if you were something precious, irreplaceable.
his whispers brushed against your skin between kisses — “my kitten,” … “mine” … “i love you so much” — until the words blurred with the rhythm of his mouth, his touch, his steady presence.
you pulled him closer, hands tangled in his hair, your quiet gasps breaking into soft laughter when he nipped at your shoulder just to hear you squeal.
the fairy lights flickered low, the roses perfumed the air, and mark kissed his way back to your lips, swallowing your smile with his own.
and there, wrapped in roses and his love, you let yourself fade into the sweetness of him — his weight, his warmth, his endless worship — until nothing else existed but the two of you.
𝜗ৎ
an: happy sunday! the first loverboy bonus scene is yours! hope you liked it <3 let me know what you think!!!!!! thank you for loving these couples as much as i do. see you next next sunday for the next four anniversaries ;)
ᓚᘏᗢ warnings stablished relationship, tiredness, very mild physical contact (head on shoulder, hair touching), public setting (bus), college au
ᓚᘏᗢ note 2nd time writting for Jeno. personally, i love writting for him. these was very cute to write, i really enjoyed doing this. sorry ik this is really short
ᓚᘏᗢ flufftober masterlist
Today has been a completely exhausting day. College is getting more and more on your nerves. When you enrolled a couple of months ago, you thought it was going to be the best time of your life: full of parties, friends, a boyfriend, and fun. Reality was… not quite that.
However, there was one thing on your list that had come true: a boyfriend. A couple of months ago, you met Jeno, and you couldn't be happier with him. He was so understanding and sweet that he seemed like something out of a movie.
He usually accompanies you on the bus home because you get off a couple of stops before him. They were sitting in the second-to-last row of seats. The bus was packed, and they had gotten seats by pure luck.
You had been nodding off since you sat down in the uncomfortable seat, and Jeno could tell you were sleepy not only because of that but also because you were slurring your words. You couldn't really hear what he was saying. For the last two hours, you had been dragging your pencil, trying to take notes, but you swear you couldn't.
Then he understood without you saying anything and remained silent. But the fact that no one was talking to you made it worse. Your eyelashes felt heavy, as if instead of mascara you had put cement on them, and your neck was no longer making an effort to keep your head upright.
“You can lean on me,” he suggested. “I don't mind.”
You ignored his words and rested your head on his shoulder. His perfume reached your nostrils and his jaw blocked the sunlight. However, you didn't have time to appreciate the tender moment because sleep overtook you as soon as you blinked.
The soft touch of his fingers on your face, trying to tuck your hair behind your ear, woke you up.
it's been about two years since you started dating hyuck, yet the mere sight of his face still gets you awestrucked. he's not even trying — literally — simply lotioning his legs (after he's done with yours) before bed, the scent of vanilla lingering in the bedroom, it's all so mundane. his hair's slightly damp after his shower, the simple black tee hugging his figure nicely, face bare and a little stubble growing on his chin. you couldn't help but stare, outlining the shape of his eyes and his lips and the moles scattered on his cheeks —
"baby," he murmurs, voice a little hoarse. "baby."
you finally look up, a faint hue of pink rushing to your cheeks as he catches you staring.
"sorry, what was that?"
"i said, do you want to have dinner outside tomorrow," he repeats himself, setting the bottle of lotion aside (rubbing some excess on your knees) and getting under the covers, "are you okay?"
"i am. you just... look so good."
in return, hyuck grows sheepish under your gaze. he doesn't blush much, but you could always tell he's feeling shy by the way he purses his lips slightly, just slightly to hide his smile, hands playing with whatever is near, like he doesn't know what to do with himself. it's the way that you sound breathless as you utter those words, sincerity leaking from your lips that silences him every time you compliment him, even after all these years. there's no pink hue though his cheeks feel so warm.
"i'm not even —"
before hyuck could even complete his sentence, you manage to seat yourself on his lap, hugging your legs around his waist , not wanting to let go. his warm hands rest against the curves of your waist, the sensation so familiar. you waste no time to cup his cheeks and shower his face with kisses — every single inch — lips echoing an annoying 'mwah!' at every kiss.
donghyuck couldn't do anything but take it all. hushed laughters spilling past his lips as he lets you kiss him, stealing kisses here and there.
"you're insane, baby..." he laughs, but you know he loves it. especially when he couldn't stop the smile plastered on his face, brown eyes staring at your lips and sneaking yet another kiss.
"you're just so pretty," you sigh out.
when you say it like that, how could he not believe it?
what they do when they want your attention : nct dream
pairing — nct dream x reader
genre — fluff
(tomorrow x together ver.)
「 mark. 」
⤷ sits and stares at you. he doesn’t really know what to do other than that, and he doesn’t want to be annoying, so he just… looks at you. he definitely looks away if you try to make eye contact with him until/if you put away whatever you were busy with and give him the attention he wants.
「 renjun. 」
⤷ sits by you. if you’re busy, he’ll wait patiently until you’re done with whatever you’re working on, but if you’re ignoring him in favor of some other distraction, he’ll slowly get bolder. he leans his head on you, says your name a few times; he doesn’t mind acting spoiled if it’s with you.
「 jeno. 」
⤷ pretends to give up. he sighs, saying that he guesses if you’re so busy, you two can’t do that thing you’ve been wanting to do – be it a date to that one restaurant, cuddling, or rewatching your favorite tv show. his goal’s to make you want his attention, not the other way around.
「 haechan. 」
⤷ annoys you. if he feels like you should be paying attention to him, he pokes you in the arm over and over, asking you what you could possibly have that’s more important than he is. he’ll call you nicknames that gradually get weirder and more niche until you give in, and he’s triumphant.
「 jaemin. 」
⤷ gets very touchy. he’ll put his hand on your knee and slowly make his way upwards until you put whatever you’re doing aside. he even likes it if you glare at him and slap his hand away; in his opinion, any attention from you is good attention.
「 chenle. 」
⤷ talks to you nonstop. even if the things he says go in one ear and go out the other, he continues the one-sided conversation until it’s no longer one-sided. it’s hard to resist his energy, so he’s nearly always able to get you to talk with him like he wants.
「 jisung. 」
⤷ does whatever you’re doing. whether you’re playing video games, or trying to take a nap, he’ll do it with you. he doesn’t want to have to ask for attention, but he’s successful anyway because he really just wants to spend time with you.
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