#acad break

[alliene-comet]

"Good morning Miss Utena!"

went back to school last week TT

[luvether]

noah kahan listener??? 👁️👁️

noah kahan listener indeed!! 🙂‍↕️ probably one of the few artist that i’m willing to buy concert tickets from, his songs >>> especially when you’re in a long car ride and dial drunk comes on, ugh i love it so much ❤︎

[chekensheppppp]

Someone continuously pester me to start my queue again and finish up editing this blog since I really can't keep promises sigh.

[528-hotline]

finalizing before i launch a work after months eeek

[ittybittyfanblog]

chapter 2 is uhh, not for kids

Error 404: Spin-off

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. Update: Sylus went ahead and got himself mortalized (That's it, that's the plot). Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, suggestive language, slight crack (literally. lmao, you’ll see), FLUFF! A/N: Finally starting the spin-off! Hello again 🙂‍↕️🫶🏼 I’ve got a rough outline for the flow and a few key chapters mapped out, but I’m keeping it flexible for the most part. This isn’t gonna be a full structured story, so think more like vignettes of their life, w/ some world-building here and there (laying some groundwork for future chapters hehe). Come thru if you wanna see what error!Sylus and our lil player are up to post-reality jump 🙂‍↕️🙏🏼 Also: no posting schedule! I’m treating this like a chill side project I can pick up whenever, so not every part’s gonna be lengthy/that polished hehe. Mostly short snippets, unless the chapter calls for a longer one. (P.S. Just send a DM if you want to be taken off the taglist lol. I just assumed you guys would still want to follow along, but no pressure at all if you don’t! 💕)

(main series) - Pt 1

You keep waiting to wake up.

For the sound of your phone alarm to blare somewhere beneath the covers, forcing you to fish it out at seven-thirty-something in the morning. For this absolutely wonderful, absolute mindfuck of a dream, to end—and for the real world to set in. 

For another uneventful day to begin, the way it usually does after a short reprieve from the hustle and the bustle of life.

From behind the bathroom door, the sound of the shower cuts off.

You scramble to open the cupboard overhead, grabbing the pepper shaker from the first shelf. You do four rotations over the half-cooked omelette before flipping it over with a rubber spatula, trying not to lose your cool. Or what’s left of it.

Three days. It’s been three days since it dawned on you that Sylus has actually managed to cross the threshold – through a tiny, impossible fissure in the fabric of reality – just to get to this dimension. Your dimension.

Three days since you locked eyes with the other half of your soul from across a room, no screen separating the two of you for once. No physical barrier to stop him from catching you as you ran toward him past the counter, just as twilight kissed the sky goodnight, sobbing at the first touch of his skin—electric against yours. The taste of his lips, the bittersweet notes of extant longing and pure bliss blooming on your tongue as he captured your mouth in his; the two of you lost in each other, uncaring of anything beyond that precious, shared moment. 

And three days for your mind to finally catch up to the sheer impossibility of it all.

As far as your Sundays go, you’d say this one takes the cake.

He’s been staying in a modest little rental just a couple of blocks away from you. Nothing extravagant – just a transient house he’s leased for the week. Not that you’ve technically been inside to know; he only pointed it out once, the single-storey residential from across the main street, as the two of you were heading back home—your home. To your little studio apartment.

Him. Sylus. In your condo. You can’t even begin to wrap your head around it.

You know that he’d just arrived in town two days before that fateful encounter at the bistro. That he’d already done his research to know exactly where you were going to be during that hour, and that he’s been here, on Earth, for quite some time now. Even before meeting you.

But past this knowledge, you haven’t actually covered much of anything, really. Just this little awkward dancing around you’ve been doing since you’ve been together.

And you know you should ask, probe, have him break down the hows of his existence to you, a clearer timeline of exactly when he popped into this world, what he’s been up to in all the time he’s been here… and why he’s even waited so long to come to you directly.

You’re painfully aware that it’s just you who’s keeping yourself from getting the answers you want. You’re the one making this harder than it needs to be. You can’t help it.

There’s no manual to tell you how to deal with your emotions when your virtual lover appears in front of you, in the flesh, miraculously defying all laws of physics in the process. No handbook telling you what to do next when something you’ve been wishing for every night before going to bed – for the past two years – actually manifests into being. 

Someone you’ve always longed for, staked deep within the confines of your heart, but never truly imagined the consequences of until your wishful thinking bled into reality.

And now he’s here.

All things considered, you think you’ve done an okay job at acting like everything’s normal. Mostly. Probably.

(You haven’t.)

The day after he showed up at your proverbial doorstep, you almost couldn’t believe everything that had transpired a mere twenty hours ago was even real. That maybe your brain had just gotten creative enough to invent a Hallmark-worthy scene to win you a one-way trip to your therapist—and that, maybe, you’d conjured him up simply because you missed him and you’re so down bad, your mind decided to start playing tricks on you.

...which nearly had your soul catapulting out of your body at the sight of the—extremely corporeal, extremely attractive—raven-haired (!) man moving through your kitchen the first morning he stayed over, wearing a black V-neck and a pair of grey sweatpants, ambling barefoot like he already knew the place by heart.

You suppose he does, you allow cautiously, an odd sort of warmth blooming in your chest at the thought. Of course he would. 

Still. It didn’t erase the surrealness of seeing Sylus, the Sylus—mortal, perfect, wonderfully alive—brewing you a cup of coffee at nine in the morning, your brain failing to fully comprehend the image of his towering figure working your faulty, secondhand De’Longhi like a pro.

"Are you," he started, eyes zooming in on the spot between your thumb and forefinger, mouth twitching like he's trying not to laugh, "pinching yourself?"

You had quickly withdrawn your hand, schooling your face into a poor attempt at nonchalance as you reached for the steaming blue mug he was holding out to you. "...No."

You can't help but hover around him, like some weird satellite desperate for orbit. You find yourself sneaking glances every five seconds—and more often than not, he meets your gaze with a wayward look of his own.

He never calls you out on it; he just gives you an infuriatingly impish smirk that sends your heart into overdrive, making you feel younger than you are. 

You’re still stewing over the events of the past few days, absentmindedly worrying whether the eggs needed more salt, when you hear the bathroom door open.

You whip your head around, and all systems crash to a stop.

Oh god. Oh fuck. 

He’s standing there—all six-foot-five of pure, lean muscle, like sin sculpted out of marble and left to walk your unvacuumed parquet wood floor without so much as a care for the cluttered little living space he’s in, looking completely at ease. Fresh from the shower, steam rising lazily from every inch of bare skin laid out in front of you, and it’s like The Neuron™ in your brain activates. The towel slung low across his hips leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, reducing your thoughts monosyllabic, like some half-evolved primate ready for mating season or whatever. Hot man. Hot man shirtless. Involuntarily, your eyes track a stray rivulet sliding down; right where the faintest suggestion of a happy trail (!!!) begins and ends… and you’re gone. Lost in some kind of trance. 

Utterly hypnotised, you watch as it soaks into the edge of the borrowed sage green terry cotton, faintly wondering if what’s beneath it could soak you the same way, shit—

A strangled noise slips past your lips. 

It’s terrible. You sound like a dying cow. Hot man’s fault. Bad.  

A snort breaks you out of your shameless ogling. 

Your head jerks up like you’ve been caught red-handed doing something you're not supposed to, guiltily meeting his eyes. You see Sylus already watching you wryly, the heavy drag of his half-lidded stare rooting you in place. 

Your face starts to flush red with embarrassment, heat climbing all the way up to your ears. 

He’s leaning a shoulder against the doorframe; arms crossed loosely over his chest, completely relaxed, and clearly getting a kick out of whatever expression you’ve got at the moment. His gaze doesn't waver, stuck on you like glue, drinking in every flustered reaction with quiet amusement. 

You swallow nervously. His eyes flicker down, tracing the movement of your throat, and his lips tug up into a semblance of a smile.

Fuuuuck.

"You already started on breakfast without me, sweetie?" He tuts in mock-disapproval. "I told you it’d take me less than twenty minutes to shower."

You don’t manage much in response, just a dumb, garbled, "mhm, s’okay."

You're completely blanked out at this point—bluescreen dead if you will—except for one panicked thought flashing through your brain: Holy shit, he's practically naked. Sylus Qin from Love and Deepspace is practically naked in my house. 

Then, not long after, a chorus of, “oh my god oh my god oh my god” starts looping in your head, overriding what little composure you had left like some raunchy PSA warning you about the dangerous rise of moisture down south.  

Sylus cocks his head slightly, sending you a sly, knowing look—one that says he knows exactly what's going on in that overstimulated little brain of yours.

Slowly, he pushes himself off and saunters closer to where you are, taking his time crossing the distance with easy, measured steps. As if he’s in no rush at all to get to you. As if he’s merely curious whether you’ll combust just from him shortening the proximity between your bodies. 

(You think you just might.)

And when he’s standing barely a few inches away – close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him – Sylus leans down, effectively trapping you between the counter and the solid wall of his chest. Between granite and sinew. 

You lose all capacity to speak.

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out a hand to shut off the burner stove behind you with an easy flick of his wrist, the brief brush of his arm sending a shiver down your spine. Then, with maddening tenderness, he pinches your cheek between two fingers—his thumb caressing the spot right after.

In a voice filled with faux sympathy, he coos, “What’s got you all distracted, poppet?”

He’s teasing. You know he’s teasing. 

He’s done nothing but tease you with his devastatingly good looks, his overwhelming presence, and syrupy words spoken so sinfully in that low cadence of his voice, ever since he arrived. And, oh, you’re not sure whether to scream or kiss the smug look off his face silly.

You’re so bad at being subtle. You always have been, especially when it comes to him. And you know you can’t hide anything from Sylus – from the smallest flicker of microexpression on your face, down to the shortness of your breath. Both of you know this. Both of you painfully aware of the effect he has on you.

And just as much, you know he’s been holding himself back—that no matter how flirtatious he gets, he’s still keeping enough control to pull away whenever you start to get too overwhelmed.

Despite his provocations, Sylus never pushes. He waits, patiently. Giving you the space to volley back if you want to. And if you don’t, he backs off in a second, with the same effortless ease he uses to tease you. Leaving you room to breathe again. 

Rinse, repeat. 

It’s almost as if you two are playing a game with poorly drawn rules. You don’t know who’s winning.

The little spell breaks when you feel a disgruntled meow against your shin; it's immediately followed by a cat headbutting you, twice in succession, with a surprising amount of aggression.

"Not used to sharing your mother, are you?" Sylus sighs, pulling back from where he’d been caging you in—his movements slow, reluctant. 

A warning hiss rises from below. He raises his hands in mock surrender, stepping back to a safer distance, just out of swiping range. 

"Yes, yes. You win,” he grumbles in acquiescence at the testy feline, a comically put-upon look on his face. “For now.”  

You pull your eyes away from his bicep—look, you're just a girl, okay—to blink down at the temperamental little creature who’s now self-appointed himself as your personal foot guard. 

He’s making some vague, cryptic noises, something between a purr and a growl, while keeping his eyes locked firmly on Sylus’ leg. 

"He–um, he might just be hungry," you manage to mutter. A quick glance at the food bowl says otherwise. "...or not."

Sylus huffs under his breath, a low sound, equal parts understanding and mildly affronted. He tilts his head – eyes narrowing at the untouched kibble, then to the small furry menace claiming your feet like a jilted lover.

Unfortunately, Maru’s reception to the new person has been... less than cordial.

From the moment Sylus walked in the apartment, Maru had hissed at him as if to say: There is no reason for a Man to be here, before darting beneath the coffee table – tail lashing with all the theatrics of a petulant child. The churlish product of a mother who's been single for far too long, that he’s decided he’s the only boy she’ll ever need. 

It strikes you as a little odd. He never usually gets antsy around guests, and you'd even thought he and Sylus got along—or at least, back when the man in question was confined to mere pixels on screen. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have counted on that.

Sylus, to his credit, hasn't once tried to close the distance or force a peace treaty. Amused, definitely; the way his eyes glint whenever Maru glares at him could almost qualify as charmed. But since stepping into your home, he’s been mindful about giving the creature a wide berth, moving with the quiet understanding that respect here is sacrosanct, something to be earned. That he’s the one imposing, and the truce between him and the (true) man of the house is a fragile, delicate thing. 

You honestly haven’t decided if Maru’s behaviour is because he’s protective... or just pissed that someone else is hogging your attention.

"It’s alright, sweetie," Sylus—your son’s chosen rival—soothed you reassuringly; his hand rubbing a slow, comforting circle over the small of your back when he caught the slightly crestfallen look on your face. "He’s just feeling territorial about his space right now. Give it some time."

“I’ll get dressed,” Sylus murmurs. “Don’t start on the coffee without me.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, then another between your brows; the casual, freely-given affection leaves you warm and gooey inside. He turns toward your vanity, where his black duffel bag rests on the small plastic saddle chair.

You watch his retreating figure for a few seconds—long enough for him to glance back over his shoulder, one brow lifted in lazy inquiry. And the look is so familiar; so painfully reminiscent of the one he gives you in-game, right after you’d deliver a ‘slap’ to his ass, that it knocks you a little off-kilter. 

… Which might explain why you don’t react fast enough when his eyes flash with mischief, and he casually undoes the knot of his towel.

The fabric drops.

You catch a glimpse—more than a glimpse, hello—of the perkiest butt you’ve ever seen in your life, and you spin around so fast you slam your elbow into something undoubtedly solid in the process.

A half-pained, half-mortified wheeze escapes your throat.

"Careful," he calls out to you—and though amusement colors his voice, there's a real thread of worry beneath it, enough to make you want to slam your head against the counter for some inexplicable reason. "Don’t feel the need to grant me modesty on my behalf, kitten."

"Kitten’s about to kill herself," you lament with a whine. 

It earns you an unimpressed scoff.

“I just got here, my love,” he deadpans without missing a beat. “Daddy’s gonna have to ask you to hold on a little longer.”

You choke on nothing but air. Critical system failure. 

Buffering… buffering… buffering…

You inhale sharply.

"Okay, pause," you beg, a slightly hysterical edge to your tone as you claw your way back from a full-blown breakdown. In an attempt to divert the topic, “D’you–uh, do you want anything on your eggs? I’ve got ketchup, hot sauce... barbecue sauce..."

"A proper chef now, are you?" And oh, the next thing you know, he’s right behind you again. Close enough that you can feel the warmth of him through the thin fabric of your shirt. 

He smells faintly like your body wash, like Dove nourishing coconut and your calendula shampoo, a heady mix of something sweet and herbal.

The thought of him—of the both of you—smelling the same, actually makes you feel giddy. 

What a stupidly trivial, novel thing to find joy in. 

Snap the fuck out of it, it’s just soap, you chide to yourself. 

You don’t even notice you’re trembling until Sylus curls a large hand around yours; steadying the shaky fingers reaching for the bottle of Cholula on the condiment tray, while his other hand gently cradles your hurt elbow. 

Your breath hitches when he presses a kiss to your temple.

"Oh, sweetie," he murmurs, and it’s the way he says it—low and unbearably fond—that loosens some of the tension on your shoulders. "You’ve wound yourself up."

"I'm good," you mumble, though your voice betrays you, thinner than you mean it to sound.

"It's just me," he says, his tone as gentle as the breeze slipping through the open window, ruffling the choppy bangs that frame your face. "Nothing so different from how it’s always been, hmm?"

And you know he’s right. It's just him. Just Sylus. Your Sylus. No different from the one from two years ago.

"I know," you sigh, finally turning to face him, having to crane your neck slightly to meet his eyes. 

His expression is softer now, the type of softness reserved solely for you, something that never fails to make you ache. The teasing is gone, tucked away for the time being. 

"I just need a little time to wrap my head around this," you admit, voice quieter now. "Is that... is that okay?"

The greys of his eyes melt into something silvery, moonlit—impossibly tender. 

In one smooth motion, he lifts you onto the kitchen counter and steps between your legs, closing what little space remains between you. You yelp in surprise, but before you can react, he’s already leaning in, stealing a kiss from your lips. Just a quick one, like he couldn’t help himself, like he needed a taste to hold him over. He chuckles when he sees your wide-eyed look.

"Of course, my love," he says, voice wrought with promise—in love with the way your lips part, bitten pink and unsure, as he lifts your hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of it. "We’ll go as slow as you want. Forever, if that’s what you need." Forever, as what you two have. 

… 

For over a year, you’ve learned how to enjoy the small things alone. And you did—enjoy it, you mean. Once, almost a lifetime ago, you took for granted the quiet joys of a slower life. But you learned to take it day by day. One hour at a time, minute after minute. 

It made room for reflection, and it moulded you into something stronger, and softer, all at once.  

But this—with him—brings you back to another time. A sweeter time; the dog-day summer of your life. 

The morning hums with a kind of quiet normalcy you’ve grown accustomed to. You’re used to the sunlight spilling through the linen curtains, lining the floor with streaks of honey-gold, soft as a happy memory. Used to the noise of the outside world bleeding through the walls, a constant presence you’ve long since accepted as a permanent fixture in this tiny apartment, like a second heartbeat.

He’s right, in a way. 

This isn’t so different from the mornings you once shared with the same man—back when he wore a different face and led an extraordinarily polarized life, completely at odds with yours. The ones spent laughing into a screen, your fingers ghosting across glass, desperate to grasp something you never could. 

That life feels like it belonged to someone else now. Someone lonelier. 

So, no. Maybe not quite the same – maybe not even close.

–

You finally allow yourself to give in; to sink into the warmth of him, folding yourself smaller in his embrace like a tired bird nestling into a safer sky, your heart fluttering wild and restless against your ribs. Too big for your body, too full to contain. Here – tangled together in this sliver of morning light – everything that has hurt you feels small in comparison. You were never alone to begin with. But with Sylus in your arms, the world feels brighter than you ever remembered it could be.

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy @touya-apologist @gladiolus-mamacitia @btszn @wrimaira @writingmyladsdelusions @borkunlimited @magnoliaswriteatsunset

[seung-mong]

everyone adores you (i hate that i do too) - kim seungmin

includes: seungmin x reader, friends to enemies to strangers to friends to lovers?? (kinda academic rivals vibe) college au, soft dom! seungie, everyone knows they r in love except them, kinda slow burn? idk, fluff, angst, quick vanilla smut scene at the end, unprotected sex, possessive seungmin, creampie oopsie woopsie, felix is lowk seungmin's downfall lmao

a/n: the people have chosen, thank u for those who voted on the poll!! i know this is so ridiculously late but ive been in a writer's funk lately and ive just been so unmotivated #rant anyway i hope you guys like this one:') chan x hybrid felix x reader up next?? :00

wc: 12k YAPPING ofc my longest fic is of my husband #seungminlover #myMan

"there's nothing i can do for you, mr. kim. you failed to submit the third reflection essay. i have been considerate with your other late submissions..." the middle aged professor sighs, bringing a hand to his forehead and massaging his temples in frustration.

seungmin's hands wrap tighter around the strap of his bag, nylon almost burning against his palm due to the friction. "mr. park," he almost whines, leaning forward in his chair.

seungmin's desperate. he needs to pass this class, a prerequisite to all of his majors. he'll be damned if he takes his classes later than everyone else. "please, there must be something i can do. anything for extra credit. i really really need to pass this class." his voice slightly breaks, so close to tears. he can feel the red hot embarrassment that washes over him at the thought of having to explain why he cant enlist in the same classes as his friends.

he's never gonna hear the end of it when he tells his parents, always hard on his ass about biting off more than he can chew and he's always shrugged them off. how is everything so different now? in highschool he was juggling acads, being president of the student council, being in choir, dance, band, and the debate team. and now? four classes and a stupid glee club and hes falling behind.

his worst fear.

the older man swallows thickly, obviously uncomfortable at his student's sudden show of vulnerability. "mr. kim, i really want to help you. but im afraid there's no extra work i can give you to help you raise your grade.

seungmin shakes his head, slumping deep in his seat.

"normally i'd offer that you could check some papers and-"

"i'll do it!" seungmin yells, almost jumping out of his seat.

"but another student has already offered to be my teaching assistant for this term for extra credit as well.... unless you could convince them to split the workload... id consider raising your grade."

"sir, anything! who do i have to convince?" seungmin lets out a sigh of relief. and he thought all hope was lost.

"miss y/l/n. do you know her?"

fuck. all hope is lost.

you huff as you push open the heavy metal doors to your apartment building, canvas bag filled to the brim with papers you're supposed to check. the weight is heavy on your shoulder, strap digging uncomfortably into your skin. the sting lingers as you waddle over to your apartment locker, dropping the bag as you dig into your coat pocket for your keys.

"oh, y/n! im glad i caught you." you turn around to see a kind face smiling at you from the foot of the stairs, long blonde hair tied somewhat neatly to keep strands away from his neck. stubborn clumps of hair fall over his forehead, sticking to the skin in a thin sheen of sweat.

"hyunjin?" you squeal, leaving all your bags right there on the floor as you run towards your childhood friend. your arms wrap around his neck as he laughs, arms coming up to wrap around your waist. you nearly knock him off his feet from the force that you throw yourself at him, but he cant blame you. it has been way too long.

"but... what are you doing here? i thought you were still in paris?" you chuckle, breathless as you pull apart from him.

"non!," he teases, but his smile quickly shifts. "due to some, ah- unfortunate circumstances, i had to return home a little earlier than i had planned," he shrugs, grabbing your arm and hooking it with his.

"oh cut the bullshit, hwang." you laugh, pulling him towards your locker. "tell me what happened," you groan, bending down to pick up your bag. hyunjin, ever the gentleman, quickly reacts from beside you, taking it away from you before slinging it over his own shoulder. "tell me what really happened, hm? it's me." you huff, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

he smiles sadly at you, shaking his head. he knows he cant lie to you. "how about we catch up over a cup of coffee, huh? my, ive been looking all over campus for you and when we finally meet after three years you dont even invite me in?" he pouts at you.

you roll your eyes at his dramatics. nice to know he hasnt changed that about himself. dare you say paris has only fed his dramatic flare? "let's go have some coffee somewhere else then, my apartment's kinda messy right now. oh! have you told felix you're back? you guys are... okay now, right?" you're careful to watch his expression at the mention of his past lover.

"no, he doesnt know im home. it kinda defeats the whole purpose of the surprise, you know?" he retorts, watching you with a fond smile as you shove your phone and keys back into your pockets. "and yes. felix and i are alright, thank you for asking."

"well, i'm sure he'd love to see you again. i know where he's working. maybe we could drop by for some drinks?"

hyunjin hums thoughtfully at that, chuckling a bit once you push open the damned metal door. "i guess it wouldnt hurt to say hello? besides. we have been... talking again."

"oh is that so?" you feign disinterest, eyes trained on the leaves that crunch under your feet.

he hums once more, squinting when he looks up, the sun beaming against his face. how he's missed its' warmth. paris was often gloomy. "we discussed possibly trying again." he says calmly, sighing with content.

you falter, "that might be good. ive always known you guys still loved each other! besides, you guys were young and stupid."

"that we were." hyunjin laughs. "well how about you and... ah- he who must not be named?"

you tense a little at that, opting to play it off with a shrug. "havent seen him around much, actually."

"well that's odd. you three were the only ones from our highschool to pass SNU and you guys dont keep in touch?"

"well i dont keep in touch with people from highschool much." you bite back.

"well how about me and felix?" he challenges.

"yea. just you two."

"arent you two in the same major?"

"we have different schedules. never aligns."

"but yuna and lia said-"

"i just dont see seungmin much, alright? that's that!" you groan, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"oh my dear y/n, nothing has changed! have you tried to patch things up with him? after all we were, hm what did you say, ah- young and stupid?"

"well he certainly was." you mumble, and hyunjin bursts out laughing. he throws an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer against his side. "god, i've missed you."

felix absolutely adores his job. he gets to help bake in the kitchens in the morning, and then he gets to make such fun little drinks while listening to music he chooses. he loves his coworkers, and his schedule is flexible, what with the manager knowing how most of his staff are all college students. the one thing he hates though? dealing with rude customers.

"i apologize, sir. our drinks are served in plastic cups as most of our customers dont finish their drink here, it's easier to take out in case you need to leave in a hurry." felix can feel the sweat start to form at his hairline, trickling slowly down his forehead as his cheeks twitch in a forced smile.

"well if i knew you served it in plastic cups, i never would have ordered!" the middle-aged man in front of him yells, eyebrows raised. students in the cafe have started to look over, trying hard to be discreet. some look annoyed, others clearly show how they feel sorry for felix.

felix tries his best to keep his smile, but he can feel anger and annoyance rise in him like hot water boiling deep in his gut.

"what the fuck is the difference??" he wants to scream, grab the stupid plastic cup from his stupid chubby fingers and throw it right in his stupid ugly face.

"im sorry sir, is there some kind of problem here?" a calm voice calls from behind the man, who turns around in surprise.

seungmin stands with his hands in his pockets, a small smile on his lips. he's dressed in nothing fancy, a university hoodie and some sweatpants. he's only supposed to catch up with felix as he busies himself around the cafe after all. his hair is tucked neatly in his cap, the perfect image of your average college student.

felix swears he's an angel sent from the heavens.

"this is none of your business, kid." the man snorts disgustingly, waving a chubby finger in seungmin's face.

"well, actually this is a public space and you're holding up the line. so yea, it kinda is my business. besides, you're on university grounds, i have every right to be here as a student." seungmin says coolly, taking a step towards the counter so he's able to somewhat position himself in between felix and this gross ugly man.

"listen, i'm a paying customer, so-"

"and the staff has the right to refuse service to anyone unless on the basis of race, religion, or ethnicity- isn't that right, felix?"

and its like suddenly felix has found his voice. he stands a little taller, leaning forward to get closer to the man's face. "that's right."

"and you're not refusing to serve this man because hes white or anything, right?" seungmin eggs him on, throwing the man a somewhat bored look.

"no. its because hes an asshole."

"hey-" the man steps forward, hands raised.

"well you heard him!" seungmin cuts the man off before he can continue, fully stepping in front of felix now. "if you dont leave within the next ten seconds, i'm calling security. they take peace and order on school grounds very seriously, you know?"

the man huffs, turning around and slamming the door behind him so hard that the little bell that jingles near the doorframe rattles wildly seconds after he's left.

"i dont know how you deal with assholes like that, felix. id probably lose my mind." seungmin sighs, throwing his friend a tight lipped smile.

"you kinda get used to it. but i've just been so tired this finals week that i dont even have the energy to stand up for myself anymore." felix shakes his head while he wipes the counter down.

seungmin nods understandingly, lunging for the man's untouched drink before felix can throw it. "this is paid, isn't it?"

"well, yes but-"

"alright, felix look. i have a problem." seungmin slides easily into one of the stools by the counter, taking a deep sip of the man's mystery drink.

felix nods in understanding, rearranging trays and cleaning up as much as he can.

"well actually, it's more of a favor? i dont know."

felix only hums, used to seungmin's rambling by now. seungmin's just like that, needs to talk to himself aloud a little before getting straight to the point.

"im actually screwed and there's no one else i can talk to because well, there's no more shame between us, yea? we've seen each other naked and ive seen you at your lowest low and youve been there for me and-"

"wow, this is pretty serious, huh?" felix jokes, pulling up a stool so he can sit in front of his friend.

"i think i'm gonna fail a class." seungmin spits out, holding his breath immediately after as he gauges his friend's reaction.

felix's smile slowly disappears. his mouth opens and closes like a fish as he tries to figure out what to say, in a state of total shock. this goes on for about five minutes before seungmin finally whines, head dropping to his hands.

"will you say something i can actually understand, felix?"

"i'm sorry i just- i dont understand. you're.... failing? you? kim seungmin? the kim seungmin?"

"wow you really know how to comfort a guy, huh?"

"i'm sorry!" felix jumps up to pull seungmin in for a half-hug, awkwardly wrapping his arms around seungmin's chest over the counter. "i just... how? why? what subject? are you sure?"

"yes, im sure. i missed a stupid submission. a major subject. look, thats not the worst part-"

"omigod you're dying. thats the only explanation-"

"no!" seungmin whines, pushing his friend off him. "the professor said he could give me extra credit-"

"but thats good news!"

"-if im able to convince... someone.... to split the task given to them with me."

"o...kay? just turn on your puppydog charm and you're good to go."

seungmin shakes his head, as if he's about to deliver such solemn news to felix that he has to pause for dramatic effect. felix rolls his eyes.

"it's... well the person is y/n."

felix stares at his friend with wide eyes, unblinking. then he tilts his head back and lets out the most obnoxious laugh, losing his breath as his neck turns a deep shade of red, the tint spreading across his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears.

"you're joking! oh this is just too- oh, i cant breathe, ITS KARMA!" he suddenly yells, fighting for his life to breathe in as much air as possible, wiping the tears from his eyes.

seungmin winces, but deep down he knows this reaction is deserved.

his relationship with you is... a little complicated.

you met seungmin in your freshman year of highschool. you'd just moved to seoul, the New Girl. as batch rep, he was tasked with showing you around on your first day, teaching you the ropes and making you feel welcomed.

"well yea, thats basically it!" seungmin finishes, pace slowing down as he directs you to the bench just opposite the school clinic. "do you have any questions for me?" he asks with a slight tilt of his head.

your eyes stay trained on the floor, as they have been the past 30 minutes that this strange boy has toured you around the school. you shake your head. seungmin doesnt fully understand it yet, but somewhere deep down, he feels bad for you. you seem like the shy type, and he knows how hard it is to adjust and make new friends. god knows how he would have survived middle school if it weren't for his friends.

"hey, what do you say you come meet my friends tomorrow during lunch break?" he suddenly asks. for the first time since his homeroom teacher introduced you, you look up at him.

he's taken aback by how pretty your eyes are.

"oh, really?" you ask timidly, voice small.

"i- i mean yea! we're in the same homeroom anyway, right? plus i think it'll help you adjust a little better if you had people you could talk to and hang out with." seungmin shrugs.

"yea. i'd really like that. thank you, seungmin." your voice is so low its almost like you're mumbling.

before you know it, you're spending your lunch breaks laughing along with felix as he embarrasses all of seungmin's friends one by one, wincing away from changbin as he threatens to lunge across the table to shut the younger boy up, hyunjin clinging dramatically onto his boyfriend's side instead of defending him.

you're spending your weekends at seungmin's house as chan makes you all listen to his new demo, han turning red in the face when his verse comes on. you're walking to school with jeongin- arms full of convenience store goodies as you make fun of your grumpy old maths teacher, leeknow following quietly behind you both, scolding you when you get too close to the road.

before you know it, you've found yourself a group of friends who makes highschool just that much bearable.

seungmin's completely enamored by you, coming to learn that you're at the top of every class that you have (except the ones you have with him, of course). you're just as ambitious as he is, joining the debate team and the mock un club, quickly joining the officers despite being a new student.

he's somewhat threatened by you, though he'd never admit it to himself, or to anyone else for that matter. you score higher than him in statistics, and he cant help the ugly feeling that settles in his chest when you show your paper to him, a bright blue 100 circled at the top.

he tries not to let it get to him, changing his mindset into seeing it as a healthy competition, a way for him to challenge himself even more in to doing better than you. it feeds his competitive side, staying longer than you in the library, sleeping later than you, reading more books.

this one sided competition makes him feel conflicted. he's out for your blood, and yet you're the same sweet, shy girl he's always been close to. you spend most of your time with seungmin, studying with him at his house, sleeping over when you've realized its way past ten in the evening, sneaking out of his house for a quick convenience store run.

"min, i'm hungry! lets go down to the store." you'd whine, voice slightly muffled against his soft sheets, tucked nice and warm under his blankets.

"go home, you've finished all the food here." he'd tease, not even bothering to look away from his homework.

"cant. you'd miss me after an hour." you'd retort, reaching blindly behind you for a plushie to throw at the back of his head.

"suppose that's true. can't help but be used to your presence when you're here nearly every day," he'd feign annoyance, exhaling loudly through his nose.

you'd pout at him when he'd finally turn in his chair to look over at you, already so at home, snuggling even deeper into his bed.

you really do have such pretty eyes.

"fine. grab your coat." and he'd try hard to fight his smile at the sound of your delighted squeals.

you found a way to break through his walls, chip away at the cement and reduce it to a fine dust which you've blown away. but he stands unguarded all the same, not even bothering to put up a fight when you wrestle your way into his heart.

he'd like to keep you there, he thinks.

sometimes he'd lie to himself and say that he tried. by your senior year, he managed to ruin the one good thing in his life.

how stupid was he?

amazing, really. how he was able to throw away three years of friendship for fifteen minutes of fame.

"how could you do this to me?" you hiss, dropping your backpack onto the floor of seungmin's bedroom. his back is faced towards you, gently shutting his door before he leans his forehead on it. he takes a deep breath, gathering enough courage to face you.

"y/n, i-"

"you embarrassed me in front of everyone. you told them everything, things i told you in confidence because i fucking trusted you. how could you do this to me, seungmin? how could you fucking do this to me?" your tears are hot, angry against your cheeks as you pace around his room. your voice grows louder with every word, reaching a scream when you stand in front of him.

"i wasn't thinking, y/n. i-"

"and for what? to make me look bad?" you laugh hollowly, hands flying to your hair in disbelief. "to make me look like some poor, fucking loser who's so mentally unstable she can't possibly become president of student council? was that your angle?"

there's a lump in seungmin's throat and no matter how hard he swallows, it just wont go down. he opens his mouth to speak, to defend himself, but his mouth has gone dry and his tongue tastes like sand.

"what the fuck is wrong with you? i thought we were friends? i thought we were best friends, seungmin? how could you air out all my shit like that? for a couple of votes? do you know how pathetic you are? is that how bad you want to be president? you're willing to throw me under the bus to make yourself look good?" you can taste the salty tears pooling in your mouth, snot slowly dripping down and creating a sticky mess on your face.

but you're too angry to care.

your chest hurts, like someone's kicked you to the ground and continuously stomped right in between your ribcage in an attempt to squash your heart. your head hurts from dehydration, and your neck is starting to feel sticky from the sweat that's pooled at the collar of your uniform.

"was this your master plan? you found out i was running against you so you sucked up to me, kept me close so you could get all the dirt? you fucking traitor, i cant believe i actually trusted you." your throat has gone raw from all the yelling, can feel the way your voice starts to come out hoarse.

"y/n, please. i'm so sorry i dont know what i was thinking. i just... when they asked me why they should vote for me my mind blanked and i-" he tries to get everything out as fast as he can, terrified you'll cut him off and start yelling again. but he can't continue because, holy shit, even he doesn't know why the fuck he did what he did.

"and you what? made me look fucking stupid so you rambled on for fifteen minutes about how much of a horrible person i am. god, if thats what you thought of me you shouldve let me know, seungmin! i couldve walked out of your life if i made you that miserable." you're starting to heave, all the air in the room suddenly disappearing.

"no, dont say that y/n. you're the best thing about me, you're my best fr-"

seungmin feels dizzy when your palm lands on his right cheek.

you cant stop sobbing, hands clutching at your chest as you shake your head. "fuck you," you whisper.

seungmin is stunned, frozen in the middle of his room with his mouth slightly open. he says nothing, does nothing as he watches you bend down weakly to grab your bag, sobbing through the motions of slinging it over your shoulders.

but then the panic starts to kick in when you push past him, your fingers reaching for his doorknob. his instincts kick in and hes wrapping his hand around your wrist.

"please don't go, please let's talk about this." his voice cracks. when did he start crying?"

you pause, and for a moment seungmin can feel the weight on his shoulder lift, all hope is not lost.

"its good to know where your priorities lie, seungmin. now i know you'll do anything to get ahead. even if that means hurting me." you tried to sound strong, but your voice comes out broken, a whimper.

"dont speak to me ever again."

you pull your hand away from him.

the weight on his shoulders is suddenly crushing.

and when he gave his acceptance speech in front of the entire student body, he frantically searched for your face. his heart dropped when his eyes locked with yours. eyes that once looked at him with so much warmth, care, and love- stared soullessly back at him.

he knew he fucked up the best thing in his life.

by the time you reach felix's cafe, hyunjin's whining had started to get on your nerves.

"i didn't ask you to carry it," you remind him, reaching for the strap.

he turns his body away from you, clutching your tote tighter against his side. "as if i'd let you carry this!"

yes, he was a gentleman. but a dramatic ass one.

"id honestly rather carry my bag than have to listen to you whine about how heavy it is."

"but it is so heavy! what the fuck did you put in here, rocks?"

you only roll your eyes, pushing open the glass door to the establishment. the tiny bell above the doorframe rings, announcing your arrival to the blonde boy behind the counter.

"oh my god, its soobin." you whisper under your breath, elbowing hyunjin in the ribs. he only looks at you puzzled, an eyebrow raised.

"he's so cute, ohmygod." you roll your eyes, quickly checking your blurry reflection on the glass door.

"not my type," hyunjin shrugs. you ignore him, walking straight to the counter.

"oh, hey soob!" you greet him, quickly shushing hyunjin when he starts to mock your airy tone. "is felix here?" you smile sweetly, trying to tame your hair from the mess caused by the strong winds outside.

"oh yea, he's over there in the booth by the window. he's not alone though," he says, wiping down the counter after spilling a few shaves of ice.

"oh, who's he with?" you ask, already making your way down the counter.

"dunno, the dude looks kinda stressed, to be honest." he shrugs, turning away from you when the bell lets him know he's got another customer to serve.

he's with a guy? he's not on a date is he? no- he wouldve told you. besides, he wouldnt have led hyunjin on either.

hyunjin follows behind you as you make your way towards the booth, heaving dramatically as he swings your tote bag off his shoulders. he crouches behind you, snickering to himself as you both slowly walk to the table, strands of felix's hair peeking out from the opposite bench.

"surprise!" hyunjin jumps from behind you, smile swiftly morphing into a face of shock, his mouth forming a small 'o'.

"holy shit, hyune! what are you doing here?"

your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. that voice-

"s-seungmin, i didnt know you were with felix."

you freeze, jaw dropped as seungmin stands. he clearly hasn't seen you yet, back facing you as he pulls hyunjin in for a hug, squeezing him tightly.

"i thought you were in paris?" felix squeals, sliding out of the booth and joining the three for a big bear hug. he's the one who finally notices you a few feet away, his smile dropping.

"y/n." he breathes, eyes wide.

when seungmin turns around, its almost as if in its slow motion.

he looks almost exactly the same, his hair a little longer, shaggier. his eyes look more tired, little bags under his eyes give away the sleepless nights he's become familiar with. his cheeks slowly turn a light pink, dusting across his nose all the way to the tip of his ears. he's dressed the way you remember him, loose comfy clothes.

he looks good, you think. you shake the thought away.

"oh, y/n." seungmin's voice is small as he locks eyes with you.

fuck, your eyes.

his first time seeing you in three years and he hates how you manage to steal his breath away. you've changed your hair, cut it a little shorter and dyed it lighter. you've pierced your ears, little sunflower earrings peaking from beneath your hair. you look so much more mature, your style has definitely changed.

but your eyes, they shine just as bright as he remembers. good to know his memory hasnt failed him yet.

"i didn't know you were coming, y/n." felix shoots you an apologetic glance, lips pursed and eyes wide.

"but i always come visit you on thursdays." you say flatly.

"yea but-"

"awh look! it's been a while since we've all seen each other, huh?" hyunjin cuts in, trying desperately to ease the tension. seungmin stays standing still, gawking stupidly at you. you try your best to pretend like you cant feel his gaze.

"yea, some of us made that decision on purpose." you mutter under your breath, but you don't miss the way seungmin's eye twitch.

felix smiles, lacing his hand with hyunjin's. "it's really been too long," he whispers, as if only meant for his lover.

"i'd really love if we could all spend some time together." hyunjin's eyes find yours, wide and pleading. "please?"

you offer him a tight lipped smile.

its already so awkward, the way felix and hyunjin slide naturally into the booth, beginning to chatter away. it leaves you and seungmin standing, stubbornly avoiding eye contact.

"do you- do you want to sit near the window, or?" seungmin's voice is small, eyes glued to the floor.

you shrug.

he nods, climbing in anyway. you take a deep breath before you move, reluctantly climbing onto the booth after him. you leave a considerable amount of space between the two of you, and seungmin can't help but roll his eyes.

it's been nearly three years, he thinks. how are you still holding a grudge against him? he clears his throat, about to start some small talk, but something stops him. maybe its the way you deliberately angle your body away from him, or the way you pull your phone out to scroll aimlessly, almost as if you were anticipating his move.

"so, how was paris?" seungmin asks hyunjin instead, shifting his body away from you. fine, be like that. at least hes not immature enough to make things awkward on purpose.

"oh, it was so romantic!" hyunjin exclaims, throwing his arm over felix's shoulder and resting it on the back of their booth. "it was a little depressing, actually. being in such a beautiful place all alone."

"well yea, but it was worth it right? who wouldve thought your one true love was right here all along." you tease, wiggling your eyebrows up and down.

"yea so is yours!" hyunjin teases you back. you only stick your tongue out.

beside you, seungmin tenses. surely, hyunjin isnt implying that he could be your true love, could he? the thought makes chest ache, an odd yearning to move closer to you, to let his fingers "accidentally" brush against yours-

"oh, soobin!" felix giggles, catching on.

seungmin's always hated that guy. from the moment he met soobin thirty minutes ago, he knew something was off. you can't date soobin, he wouldnt know how to take care of you. with his stupid blonde hair, his stupid bunny smile, his stupidly large eyes.

he bets soobin doesnt even know what your favorite type of ramen is, what your go-to snacks are, what your favorite flavor of ice cream is. important things that a lover should know.

things he knows.

oh, where'd that thought come from?

"shut up, you guys!" you hiss, checking to see if soobin is within earshot. you frown at felix, swatting across the table at his chest.

"what do you mean? you guys would look so cute together." hyunjin argues, quickly turning to catch a glimpse of soobin. you hide your face in your hands, profusely shaking your head as you sink deeper into the booth.

seungmin cant help the feeling of jealousy that bubbles deep in his gut. hes half scared hes going to projectile vomit all over the table when you straighten yourself out, sneaking a peek at the blonde boy who busies himself with creating a customer's drink.

"im probably not his type." you mumble.

"you're not." seungmin's shocked at the word that's slipped, hand quickly coming up to cover his mouth in shock.

all eyes are on him, and he can see the way you look at him, with your empty eyes staring right at his face. he hates it when you look at him like that, misses the way your eyes used to shine just for him.

"actually you know what, im getting kinda tired, i think im gonna go home instead." you blurt out, already reaching for your bag.

hyunjin's hand finds yours on the table, and he squeezes gently. "really?"

you swiftly pull your hand away. "yes. really."

"you know what, it doesnt matter. i actually made a reservation for us lixie. wasn't planning on staying long anyways. just wanted to surprise you." hyunjin sings sweetly, brushing away a stand of hair that had fallen on felix's cheek.

"yea, i think i'm gonna head home too." seungmin clears his throat.

just then, the sound of thunder roars outside, clouds a dark grey as they hang low.

fuck. just when you decided not to bring an umbrella.

"yea, i think we better get going. dont wanna get caught in the rain." felix sighs, gathering his stuff and offering hyunjin his hand.

"dont you have spare umbrellas here, lix? maybe we could borrow them. you know, just in case." as if on cue, the rain starts to come down heavily, droplets splattering against the window.

"yea, but there's only two." felix mutters, quickly slipping behind the counter to grab two black umbrellas leaning against the wall. "hyunjin and i can share, and maybe you and y/n-"

"i'm fine." you say stubbornly, arms crossed in front of your chest.

you'd rather die than spend two seconds alone with kim seungmin.

"oh dont say that, you'll get drenched and catch a cold." hyunjin sighs, grabbing one of the umbrellas from felix's hand and offering it to you.

"i'd actually prefer that, thanks." you snap, swatting his hand away.

hyunjin opens his mouth to berate you, but seungmin quickly steps in, reaching for the umbrella. "i'll handle this guys, you go enjoy your dinner."

you fume at that. 'oh he'll handle it? who the fuck does this guy think he is?'

you roll your eyes, pushing past your friends and heading for the door. you stand under the roof, crossing your arms in front of your chest as a cold chill blows past you. hyunjin and felix soon exit as well, wrapped tightly in their coats, hands entwined.

hyunjin steps towards you, pulling you in for a hug despite your protests. "be nice," he whispers, before planting a kiss on your cheek. you make a move to wipe it away, but hesitate when you see hyunjin pout.

"have a nice date." you mumble, watching as the pair huddles close under the umbrella, making their way to felix's car.

you hear the door open, and you hold your breath.

"let me walk you home." seungmin offers, his tone stern. this only ticks you off, wanting nothing more than to defy him despite his offer being in your best interest. your apartment is a good walk away, and the papers in your tote bag risk the chance of getting wet.

"i mean you- you live near my building, right?" he pleads, clicking his umbrella open. he waits patiently for you to respond, standing awkwardly by the sidewalk as you fight with your pride.

you nod, and thats all seungmin needs. he's by your side in an instant, holding the umbrella nearer to your side to ensure that not even an inch of you gets wet from the rain. his left side is already completely soaked, cringing at the feel of his cold hoodie sticking to his skin, but he ignores it. you set a fast pace, and his heart hurts at the though that it's probably because you can't stand to spend more time with him than you need to.

he notices you wince from the weight of your bag, taking a deep breath as you readjust the strap from falling off your shoulder.

"let me carry it," he's being bold, already reaching for the damn thing before you can say anything.

"i dont need any more favors." you snap, the first words you've directly said to him in nearly three years. he's glad you've at least acknowledged his existence now, but your words are sharp.

he lets it go, humming to let you know that he heard you. your pace quickens just a bit, eager to get home, out of the rain, and away from seungmin. your tote swings from the movement, getting caught on a nearby bush and very nearly pulling you back.

you lose your balance and slip, falling flat on your butt on the wet pavement. you try to brake your fall, scratching your palms in the process.

"oh my god, are you okay?" seungmin rushes down, still holding the umbrella over your head. he offers his hand to help you up, but you swat it away.

"i'm fine, alright? god, stop hovering!" you yell, pushing down on your scratched palms to help yourself up. you wince at the pain, brushing off tiny pebbles and bits of gravel from your open wound.

"y/n, you're bleeding." seungmin gawks, hand reaching out to touch yours. you quickly yank it out of his reach, almost as if you were hiding your palm from him.

"yea, thanks for the info." you mumble, trying your best to wipe away the mud that's splattered all over your jeans. seungmin moves quickly while you're preoccupied, crouching down to grab at your tote bag. he ignores your whines of protest, slinging it over his shoulder.

you let out a groan when he refuses to hand it back to you. "fine, whatever. suffer." you grumble, crossing your arms before walking away. seungmin quickly catches up to you, shielding you from the rain.

the walk home is painfully quiet. you're hyperaware of every movement he makes, every time he inhales, the way he clears his throat, as if he's about to say something before he changes his mind. all these emotions swirl angirly inside of you, most of them you cant even begin to comprehend.

because for some reason, you miss him. and it hits you like a truck when the sleeve of his hoodie grazes your elbow, the soft cloth reaching for you. it takes everything in you not to break down and grab for him, to hold him close and strangle him, to wrap your arms around him and hug him so tight he loses breath and dies of suffocation.

he smells the same, like the seungmin you remember who used to walk you home after band practice. the seungmin who held your hand in secret as you walked through the haunted house that one halloween. the seungmin who'd sing to you, alone in his room with his guitar on his lap.

your seungmin.

how could this stranger beside you be your seungmin?

how is it possible that the very same person who knows your deepest darkest secrets, your most embarrassing moments, your dreams and fears- is someone who doesn't know you at all?

seungmin stands stiff beside you as you reach the lobby of your apartment, shaking the little droplets of rain off the umbrella. he opens the door for you, urging you to enter before him.

"i'll have my bag back now, thanks." you say in monotone, eyes not even meeting his.

"let me carry it up." a bold request.

"i'm fine now, you know? im not some damsel in distress in need of saving." you mumble, standing your ground.

seungmin ignores you, already walking towards the elevator. he leaves it on hold, waiting a few seconds before you enter as well, grumbling under your breath.

once you reach your floor, you lead the way to your room, with seungmin trailing slowly behind you. he's shivering a little from the cold, the wet of his jacket only making the draft on the floor feel like ice against his skin. you notice, the little devil on your shoulder pleased at his suffering.

but there's another side of you that softens when you notice the way his teeth chatter, a shudder going down his whole body. god, you're gonna regret even opening your mouth-

"you can come in to warm up a little." you mumble, reaching into your coat pocket to fetch your keys.

seungmin merely blinks at you, unsure if he heard you correctly, or if his imagination was so strong that he managed to picture you saying the thing he so desperately wanted to hear.

but then you walk in, and you leave your door open. for him.

"oh, thanks." seungmin mutters awkwardly, reaching for the cup of tea you offer him. the warmth spreads from his fingertips to his palms, and he's genuinely grateful for the heat it provides. you only hum, grabbing your tote bag from the floor and setting it on the couch.

you pour yourself a cup, sitting directly opposite of the strange boy in your apartment. you blow away some of the steam that rises from the cup, eyes trained on the way the liquid ripples from the force of your breath.

seungmin opens his mouth to speak, but he cant seem to find the words to say what he wants to say. i'm sorry? no thats too lame. i miss you? fuck no, way too forward. how about-

"you're shivering." you point out, staring directly into seungmin's eyes.

his breath hitches. you're looking at him.

actually looking at him.

"oh, i- i didn't even notice." he lies. despite the fact that you turned your heater on, he's fucking freezing. his hoodie is heavy with rain and damp against his skin, sending shivers all the way up his arm and down his spine.

suddenly you stand, retreating into your room without a word. seungmin's confused, unsure if that's his cue that he's overstayed his welcome. but then you come back into the kitchen after a few seconds, holding a large blue hoodie in your arms.

his heart clenches when you unfurl it, revealing the old hoodie he'd given you a month before your graduation. he didnt even know you got it in the mail when he sent it. you werent even talking to him at that point. does that mean you'd gotten his letter too?

"well, i didnt wanna get rid of it, you know? would be a waste." you mumble. you toss it over to him, the cloth landing on his lap with a soft thud. he looks stupidly down at it, brain malfunctioning.

"you should change out of your sweater. you're wet. dripping all over my floor." you grumble, snatching seungmin's empty cup and setting it down on the counter behind him.

"you kept it?" seungmin whispers.

"like i said. didnt want it-"

"you kept it." seungmin turns to look at you.

his deep brown eyes are hopeful, crease in his brows giving away the myriad of emotions swirling deep in his stomach.

you stay silent, back turned towards him. you can feel the tears that pool behind your eyelids, threatening to fall as you hold yourself over the sink, turning your head completely away from seungmin. you hear the sound of fabric rustling, and your cheeks warm at the thought of him undressing in the middle of your kitchen.

the sound of wood scratching against your kitchen tiles is loud, the abruptness of seungmin standing up nearly sending the chair backwards.

"smells like you." he whispers. he cant trust his voice.

he takes a step towards you, your back still towards him.

"i think its time for you to go." you hiccup, a steady stream of tears flowing down your cheeks.

"look at me." seungmin begs, taking another step.

"you should go now, seungmin."

"look me in the eye when you tell me. then i will."

he's getting bold, standing right behind you, his chest pressing the back of your head. you whirl around, ready to yell at him, to scream at him, to slap him, to furl your hands into fists and beat against his chest.

but he's quicker, wrapping both his arms around your shoulders and pressing you close to him, tucking your head under his chin. he holds you like this for so long you figure its been hours. you stain the front of his chest with your tears, hands weakly wrapping around him, fingers curling into the fabric.

he still feels like seungmin.

your seungmin.

"you kept it. you got my letter too, didn't you sweetheart?" he whispers, as if afraid raising his voice would ruin the spell.

you sob violently against his chest, holding him tighter against you.

"i meant every single word," he squeezes you tightly, "i'm so sorry."

"you're an asshole, kim seungmin." you sob, shaking your head.

"i know, i know. i'm so sorry." he shushes you, smoothing down your hair, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

"do you know how much it hurts?" you sob, pulling away from him. "i see you almost everyday. you have the face of someone who knows every single thing about me, but you're a complete stranger to me." you sob into your hands, pouring your heart out to him.

"i know," he sniffles, wiping away the snot under your nose with his free hand.

"no, you dont. stop fucking saying that." you pull your face away from him, pushing his hand down. "you were my best friend and you- now its like i dont know you and-" you're hiccuping, heaving, out of breath as you break down.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart, okay? i'm so so sorry. i was so stupid,"

"well yea!" you yell, falling into him when he opens his arms up to you.

he chuckles dryly at that, holding you tightly against him, as if terrified you'd change your mind and kick him out of your home. and he cant bear to see it, the way you look up at him with tears in your eyes, bloodshot red and full of resentment. he wants to fix it so bad, misses the way you'd hold softness in your eyes reserved especially for him.

"i'll make it right," he promises, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head. "i'll prove it to you, okay? i promise."

you sniffle, shaking your head. "i- i dont know,"

"hey, look at me." seungmin pulls you away from him, bending slightly so you're eye to eye. "i promise, i'll do everything i can to gain back your trust. i just miss you so much, y/n. i- i really fucked up and to this day it remains my greatest regret."

you stay quiet, eyes flickering between either of his. "even more than when you shaved your head that one summer?" you joke weakly.

seungmin can feel his heart pounding at the sight of your small smile. he thinks he sees your eyes twinkle. "yes, sweetheart. even more than that. i just... please. give me another chance. give me a chance to make it right with you, y/n."

you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. seungmin's steadily crying, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand as he looks at you, expectantly. you stay quiet for so long seungmin can hear the blood rushing all the way to his head, going dizzy with anticipation and fear.

"you'll have to buy me lots of gummies, you know?" you mumble, looking up at him.

fuck. he'd buy you all the gummies in the world if it meant you'd keep looking at him with those eyes.

the words on your screen have started to blur altogether, vision hazy as you mindlessly scroll through the hundreds of pages of readings and notes youve been reviewing for the past...... god, was there even a time you weren't studying? even the music playing through your headphones have lost its appeal, sounding more and more like radio static.

you jolt out of your trance at the sound of books slamming against the surface of your table, which shakes under the weight. you quickly pull your headphones off and look up at the intruder, who smiles sheepishly at you.

"sorry, did i wake you?" seungmin asks, pulling up a chair beside you.

"no, you saved me." you groan, stretching your whole body until your limbs start to vibrate.

seungmin only laughs, sinking deep into his chair. he takes his cap off and runs his fingers through his hair. he scoots a little closer to you, then bends the other way to retrieve a little brown paper bag.

"i brought you breakfast." he says, rolling his eyes at the way you pout at him.

"seungmin, you didnt!" you gasp, receiving the tall cup of iced coffee with eager hands.

"i did this for myself, actually." he claims, pulling out some warm bread to share with you. "dont want you grumpy all morning. what time did you come in? you look like shit. no offense."

you shrug, taking a long sip of the cold drink.

"wait, weren't you wearing that last night when i left? y/n.. dont- oh my god, dont tell me you spent the whole night here?"

you stare blankly back at him. "our final exam is in three days."

"do you plan on staying awake until then?" seungmin bites sarcastically, and you kick his chair.

"i have to atleast get a 97 on his exam or else i wont finish his class with high honors." you whine, running your fingers through your hair in frustration.

you're so much like him, seungmin thinks. he, too, is familiar with sacrificing his happiness for a perfect grade. except now he has to work just as hard as you just to pass. the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"you have to get some sleep or you wont finish his class at all." he threatens, staring down at you.

you only frown, but you dont need that much convincing, as you're already closing your laptop shut, scooting your chair just that much closer to seungmin's so your arm grazes his.

"wake me up in thirty minutes." you grumble, linking your arm with his and resting your head on his shoulder. he raises it a little to grant you comfort, unbothered by the fact that his arm will inevitably start to tense and ache.

"sweet dreams," he hums, discreetly kissing the top of your head as he pretends to look at the empty chair next to you.

ten minutes pass, and you're already snoring. your fair falls in a mess in front of your face, and seungmin has to hold back from sweeping your hair away in fear that he'd accidentally wake you up. he cant help but feel his chest swell at the feeling of you leaning on him, he feels like a highschooler high with giddiness, trying hard not to vibrate in his seat.

screw the readings, he can barely keep you out of his head. this past month has been an absolute dream to him, spending every waking moment by your side. treating you to almost every single meal, keeping you company as you run your errands, crashing at yours to study and just goof around.

this is how he remembers you- full of life, playful, just a little mischievous. so positively alluring that seungmin feels himself falling in love with you. it hit him like a brick that night you passed out with papers strewn across your bed, your limbs tangling with his. he didnt sleep a wink that night, too busy studying your face. you looked so peaceful, he remembers, burying your face in the crook of his neck and holding him tightly in your sleep.

he looks down at you now, cant stop the smile from spreading across his face. he'll let you sleep for a little longer, he decides. he doesnt care if you get upset with him (you will), you deserve the rest. seungmin's about to finally clear his head of you and actually get some studying done when he locks eyes with a tall blonde from across the room.

god, of all the people.

"oh, hey! seungmin, right? felix's friend?" soobin says in a low voice as he approaches the table.

"yea, soobin right?" stupid fucking name.

"yea. hey- is that y/n?" he nods towards your sleeping figure.

ew. stop looking at her. "oh, yea. she passed out."

"damn, she's really studious, huh? ran into her late last night when she was here all alone." soobin sighs, frowning at you.

seungmin wants to puke at the thought of you spending time alone with soobin. he wants to ask him so many questions like- how long did you talk to her for? what did you guys talk about? how much can i pay you to leave her alone?

"yea, shes hardworking. i admire her for that." seungmin smiles fondly.

"oh... wait- are.. are you guys, like, a thing? or something?" soobin takes a step back and seungmin's breath hitches in his throat.

"cuz if you guys are, i can totally back off, you know?"

seungmin stays silent, weighing his options. he could lie and say you guys were dating, but if you found out, you'd probably hate him and ignore him for the rest of his life and he'd rather die than let that happen. on the other hand, if he tells the truth, soobin would obviously try to pursure you. and he knows you have a little crush on him too.

seungmin bites his lower lip, then shakes his head. "nah, we're just friends." seungmin can feel some bile rise in his throat. not for long, he thinks cockily.

"oh, cool cool. uhm, if you could do me a favor, man? just... i dunno ask her to go to the cafe again this week? maybe i'll work up the courage to ask her out or something." soobin chuckles, cheeks turning a deep red.

seungmin can only nod. finally soobin offers him a small smile and leaves. there's a heavy feeling in seungmin's stomach, almost as if he'd been punched in the gut. he cant even begin to imagine you dating someone else, in fear that he'd just break down right then and there.

its kinda pathetic, really. you're not even his yet and he's already thinking of all the ways he can get soobin to leave you alone. he wants to print a large sign that says "do not approach, angry guard dog will bite" over your head, just to keep everyone else away from you.

god, since when was he this possessive?

he spends the next forty minutes thinking of ways to get you to be his. and when you finally stir awake, the first thing that seungmin says is-

"we should stop going to felix's cafe."

obviously, you dont listen.

you go to felix's cafe anyways, except you're always alone. seungmin doesn't need to know where you go every thursday afternoon while he's in class, anyways. he never told you why he wanted you to stop coming here, but you have a hunch. a tall, blonde, stupidly handsome hunch.

"y/n!" soobin greets you warmly, leaning over the counter to get a better look at your face.

"hey, soob." your cheeks warm.

you know that nothing is going on between you and seungmin, but you can't help but feel guilty doing exactly the opposite of what he asked of you. but something's shifted the past few days you've been spending with seungmin, almost as if you're seeing each other in this new light. you push this thought to the back of your head like you always do, telling soobin your order and waiting for felix at your booth.

by the time soobin brings the food to you, your phone rings.

fuck. its seungmin.

"hello?"

"hey, my classes ended a little early today. where are you?"

"oh, uhm im-"

oh my god lie faster.

"yea?" you can hear him huffing, obviously walking around campus, probably looking for you.

"at the library." you spit, looking outside the window, frozen with paranoia. lying to him feels so so wrong.

"its wednesday, y/n. library's closed."

oh my fucking god, lie better.

"i went to meet felix." you finally admit, shrinking into your seat.

you hear seungmin sigh. "is he out already?"

"no," you mumble.

"so you're alone?"

you hum.

"im on my way."

he hangs up, and you let out a sigh.

finally, felix barges out from the kitchens and quickly clocks out, throwing his apron over his head and hanging it on the hook by the door. he smiles when he sees you, nearly leaping over the counter to get to you.

"hello, my dear y/n." felix hums, kissing you quickly on the cheek and settling on the booth opposite from you.

"hello, my dear lixie." you hum, pushing a plate of waffles in front of him. "for you, your usual."

felix groans with hunger, fixing his plate with a heavy load of syrup and a huge dollop of butter. "so, how are things? any important new updates this week?"

you shrug, taking a sip of your iced coffee. "nothing new, really..... except, i guess...."

felix hums, urging you to continue.

you let out a deep breath, shaking your head. "i think... i think something's going on between seungmin and i."

you bite the inside of your cheek at felix's reaction, mouth agape as he stares blankly at you. it takes him a moment to process before he finally swallows the food in his mouth and he lets out an evil giggle. "oh, this is... oh, hyunjin owes me so much money!"

"you prick!" you gasp, swatting at felix's arm. "you guys bet on us?"

"well, i mean, come on! it was sooo obvious, i mean, it was only a matter of time, you know?" felix shrugs, cutting up another piece of his waffle.

"no, i do not know!" you squeal, piercing the piece with your fork and stuffing it into your mouth, ignoring your friend's whines of protest. "you guys thought seungmin and i would end up together?"

"well yea, everyone with eyes thought so! come on, y/n. he's looked at you like a lovesick puppy since highschool." felix rolls his eyes. "you guys were always together, and he knew you better than all of us combined. not to mention how lifeless you both were the two years you werent talking. i mean seriously, it was like hanging out with a couple of zombies."

your cheeks warm. "but- im still not even sure of how he feels about me."

"wow. love does make you oblivious as fuck, or whatever they say." felix shakes his head, chugging down his vanilla milkshake before he suddenly remembers something.

"does that mean you're gonna let him help you grade the papers for extra credit?"

you freeze. "what?"

"yea, seungmin said he needs to convince you or else he'd fail, or something. you guys talked about it already, or?"

your breath falters, and your brows furrow. "seungmin's failing a class?"

felix swallows. he cant shake off the feeling that he said something he shouldnt have. but he could never keep a secret from you.

"well- yes. his prof said he needed to convince you to help him get extra credit."

"wait, when was this?" you ask, voice stern.

oh, felix is soooo in deep shit. "uhm, like the day you guys started talking again."

your heart drops to your ass. surely, thats not the whole reason why he was so desperate to talk to you again, right? but you cant shake away the feeling, remembering back to highschool when he'd done almost the exact same thing.

but he promised. he promised it'd be different this time, right?

"seungmin told you that he needed to convince me to let him grade some papers?" you clarify.

"yea."

"and what did you say?"

"i uhm- i told him to like, turn on his charm or something along those lines."

you scoff in disbelief.

felix is going to hell. "but, that was my advice before i knew it was you! i just... i know seungmin needed some help and he'd do anything to get a good grade so i figured he was extra desperate because he was borderline failing and i was just so shocked and-"

"felix, just stop talking." you mumble, leaning back against the booth.

felix only nods, wringing his hands in nervousness. he opens his mouth to speak, but you shoot him a glare. he falls silent again, nervously gnawing on his bottom lip.

your mind's racing, going 100 miles an hour as you go through every moment youve had with seungmin this past month. obviously, this favor is not the only reason he tried hard to convince you to talk to him again, right?

but theres a small voice inside of you, the one who remembers the harsh pain seungmin caused that's screaming, telling you to cut him off, shut him out before he can hurt you all over again.

by the time seungmin pulls open the glass door, you've made up your mind.

"he-"

"this is the last time i let you break my heart, kim seungmin." you say firmly, brushing past him.

seungmin can only stand, frozen. his heart drops to his stomach, head going fuzzy as his gaze lands on felix. he opens his mouth to say something, but he cant find the words.

"what did you say?" seungmin asks.

"im sorry, i didnt know, i thought-"

seungmin's rushing out, throwing the door wide open as he runs out into the street. he can feel his heart pumping as he pushes through crowds of people, racing towards you. he can hear his blood rushing, catching sight of your yellow sundress as you're pushing open your apartment building. seungmin's never been a runner, hell, he nearly failed PE in highschool when he was forced to run laps a whole semester. but right now? he feels like the fucking flash.

he yells for you, ignoring the stitch in his side as he manages to somewhat catch up to you. by the time he throws open the heavy metal door to your apartment complex, the elevator doors are closing, your eyes locking with his.

"fuck." seungmin heaves, bending down to rest his hands on his knees. he needs to reach you before you lock him out of your room. he knows how stubborn you can be, you could probably ignore his pleas and incessant knocking for days if you had to.

seungmin gags, shaking his limbs before he bolts up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, pushing his legs to work faster. the backpack on his shoulders is heavy but he could care less. he cant risk losing you again.

sweat flows freely from his forehead by the time he reaches your floor, and by some miracle, he catches you walking down the hall.

"y/n!" he heaves, sliding his bag off his shoulders and leaving it right there in the hall. "please-"

"go away, seungmin." your voice cracks, digging for your keys in your bag.

he shakes his head, jogging up to you before you can close the door in his face. he sticks his shoe in the closing gap, groaning when it gets stuck between your door and the frame.

"what the fuck?" you yell, backing up as seungmin forces his way into your apartment, closing the door behind him.

"no you- you have to hear me out." he's panting, vision going blurry. jesus christ, he was out of shape.

"you want to talk about it?" you challenge, shrugging your coat off and throwing it on the floor.

"yes." he heaves, leaning against the wall.

"okay, lets talk about it. is it true that you wanted to convince me to help you get extra credit?" your hands are crossed in front of you. seungmin's admittedly a little scared.

"yes, but-"

"but what? i wasnt supposed to find out?"

"no! that was before-"

"before what?" you take a step closer, crowding him in.

"before i realized i was in love with you!" seungmin yells, hiding his face in his hands.

you're silent, expression stoic. "you're sick." you whisper, unsure of yourself. your heart is racing, and you take a step back. "dont... dont say that."

"but its the truth!" seungmin's desperate know, tears welling in his eyes. it wasnt supposed to happen like this. he was supposed to take you out, confess his feelings for you properly, but now its all ruined and rushed and- oh, when he gets his hands on lee felix-

"the truth?" you scoff, shaking your head at him. "how am i supposed to believe you? with everything that... that's happened?"

"you're going to have to trust me." seungmin steps forward, hesitant. he can see the doubt in your eyes and it makes him sick. he'd run up 10 flights of stairs if it meant you'd never look at him like that again.

"trust me when i say that i was a fucking fool in highschool for hurting you, and i spend every day thinking about how if i could, i would go back in time to change everything." he takes another step forward, backing you against the door to your bedroom.

"that i wasted two and a half years of my life by not spending them with you, knowing that you were so near me, that i could easily walk up to you but i was too embarrassed, too scared you'd shut me out." seungmin's baring his soul out, but its too late to stop.

"that i thought about you every single day, thought about what could have been if i wasnt so stupid. that ive spent the last few months doing everything i can to prove to you that i would never ever hurt you like that ever again. but with you im just so stupid, i feel like im always doing the wrong things because youre all up in my head taking up all the space and i fucking love that i cant think about anything but you."

you can only stare up at him. you can see the way his gaze flickers away from you, too nervous to maintain eye contact. he reaches out to you, fingers hesitantly brushing against the back of your hand. testing. you pull away from his touch to wipe away the tear that's managed to slip away, clearing your throat. he tilts his head, hands settling firmly on your waist.

"i love you, y/n. please, you have to believe me."

he's waiting for you to say something, anything. he's never poured his heart out like that before, the silence eating away at him as he slowly spirals, overthinking every word he's said.

but then you relax in his hold, pressing your chest subtly against his. and he knows there's hope.

"are you really failing a class?" you whisper, and seungmin can only laugh.

"that's your concern?" he leans down, dragging the tip of his nose against your cheek. he inhales deeply, nuzzling against you.

"well, yes." you gently push him away by the shoulder, looking up at him. "i cant have my boyfriend failing any of his classes."

seungmin smiles, absolutely melting when you wrap your arms around his neck. "oh yea? does that mean you'll let me in on the extra credit?"

"you are on thin, thin ice, seungmin." you warn, reaching up to finally press your lips against his. seungmin absolutely melts, letting out a low groan at your taste. one hand on your waist, seungmin leans into you, reaching behind you to open your bedroom door. you gasp when you lose balance, recovering quickly when seungmin walks you backwards, never once pulling away from you until the back of your knees hit your bed.

you let out a squeal when you fall back, seungmin expertly finding his way in between your legs. "tell me you want me," seungmin commands in between kisses, hands roaming up and down your sides.

"i do. i want you." you breathe, pushing off seungmin's jacket.

"yea?" seungmin hums, pulling back to bunch up your dress until it sits just below your ribcage. he leans back, simply staring down at you with stars in his eyes.

"stop staring at me." you mumble shyly, turning your head to the side.

"dont want to," seungmin hums, quickly throwing his shirt off into a random corner of your room. "ill look at my girl as long as i like." he leans down, capturing your lips with his.

"your girl, hmm?" you hum, smiling as he kisses his way up your stomach, fingers gripping onto the hem of your dress. your breath hitches when his fingers brush against your under boob. he smiles against your skin, looking up at you.

"aren't- arent you going to take my dress off?" you whisper into the air, and seungmin stops his teasing kisses against your hip.

"well, i was going to but then.." he kisses over the fabric, planting a wet kiss in between your breasts before latching onto your neck for a playful bite. "then i thought about how i want to fuck you in it and then take you out to dinner after."

your cheeks grow red, lightly slapping his arm at his vulgarity. "doesnt that sound better, baby?" seungmin hums, playing with the hem of your underwear.

your breath goes shaky as seungmin continues to toy with you, pads of his fingers lightly pressing against your clit from over your underwear, providing the littlest bit of friction, but enough to drive you crazy.

"seungmin, please-"

"please, what?" he teases, hips pressing into your thigh. you can feel him through his sweats, hard and aching against you. he begins to grind against you, gentle enough to tease you and get him off at the same time.

"need you to touch me." you huff, frustrated.

"i am, baby." seungmin chuckles, pads of his fingers pressing against you firmly, trailing down until he teases your entrance, soiling the fabric of your underwear with how wet you are.

"you know what i mean," you whine.

seungmin only hums, lowering his sweats just enough to free his cock. he pulls your underwear to the side, exposing your cunt to the cold air of the room, making you shiver.

"you're so wet, baby. bet i could slide right in, huh?" seungmin teases you with his tip, tapping it firmly against your clit and trailing down to coat himself in you.

"god, just put it in, minnie." you sigh, grabbing at his shoulders.

"minnie?" seungmin smirks, nosing against your jaw. "i like that."

he finally presses in, slowly making sure you feel every inch of him. you wince a bit at the pain, and seungmin notices with a coo. he pulls your hands away from his shoulders to hold against your bed, fingers intertwining with yours.

"i'm sorry, does it hurt?" he coos, slowly pulling out to thrust back in.

"a little, its okay. kiss me."

seungmin obeys, leaning down to kiss you sweetly as he starts at an even pace. he's slow with it, stroking so deep you can feel him in your throat. it feels intimate this way, with his hands in yours, his chest pressed firmly against you. he pants into your mouth, kissing you when you start to moan too loudly.

"tell me you love me." seungmin sighs, resting his forehead against yours.

you nod, "i love you. love you minnie."

seungmin lets out a groan at that, pulling one hand away to sneak in between your bodies, tips of his fingers finding your clit. he starts to move them in circles, your high fast approaching.

"i'm gonna cum," you whine, squeezing his hand.

"cum with me, baby. please," he begs, holding you so tight against him you feel the air knocked out of you with every thrust. you cum with a whine of his name, fingers digging into the back of his hand. his hips stutter before he presses as deep as he can into you, groaning loudly as he mouths at your neck.

you're both sweaty and sticky, but seungmin pays no mind as he collapses completely on top of you, wrapping his limbs around you. he looks up at you when his breathing starts to even, a cheeky grin on his face.

"what," you laugh, pushing him away by the shoulder when he leans in to kiss you.

he loves the sound of your happiness, basking in it as he shifts closer to pull you into his side. you happily comply, ignoring the mess in between your legs in favor of cuddling up to your lover.

"i really do love you." seungmin reassures, and you roll your eyes.

"i love you too. really." you hum, kissing his shoulder. "now clean me up, and dont even think about falling asleep."

seungmin groans, rolling off your bed to reach for a towel to wet. "but we have plenty of time before dinner. we can nap!"

"no, i will nap." seungmin frowns, walking into your bathroom and turning the faucet on.

"and what do you expect me to do?" seungmin says once he returns to the room, eyebrows raised.

"you, will check all the papers left in my bag." seungmin only laughs, leaning down to wipe in between your thighs, careful to get every drop.

"then can we get dinner?" he asks, pout on his lips.

"yes. your treat."

"well, duh."

as you close your eyes and start to drift off to sleep, seungmin only watches, hunched over on your bedroom floor, hundreds of papers scattered in front of him. he prays he'll be able to get it together and pry his eyes away from you to actually get some work done.

he seriously doubts it.

taglist: comment if you want to be added or removed!

@pochamin22 @bee123sthings @ohnocent @hyunchannie017 @r1n4 @heluvschibi @kpop-obsessed-all-the-time @elizalabs3 @uknowme-not @bee123sthings @n034sy

[allurer23]

TURN THE PAGE TO US

YOU ANNOTATED MY SOUL

In Focus: Mark Lee × Reader

Synopsis: You and Mark Lee: two English Lit majors, one department, zero peace. You can quote The Waste Land by heart, and so can he-but your shared talent for verse usually ends in verbal warfare. Forced to co-lead a competitive research project, Mark's infuriating intelligence and maddening focus drive you up the wall. Yet, rivalry softens into playful banter, and late study sessions stretch longer than expected. Turns out, the line between rivalry and something softer is written in pencil-easily erased, effortlessly rewritten.

Warnings: Academic rivals to lovers, Mutual pining + unresolved tension, Explicit language, Sexual content (18+ / smut), Detailed oral sex (f. receiving), Power dynamics (verbal sparring, light possessiveness), Angst + emotional repression, Minor public humiliation (not graphic), Canon-typical college shenanigans, Literary metaphors taken too far, Mentions of anxiety + fear of vulnerability, Soft moments buried under sarcasm

Author's note:

This is the first footnote in TURN THE PAGE TO US-because nothing screams 'healthy coping mechanism' like falling for the one person who annotates your entire existence."

This is Part 2

You can read Part 1 here

Please be 18+ if you are reading this

We didn’t even get to pull apart.

Her lips were still on mine, warm and trembling, her breath stuttering against my mouth like she was falling apart right there in my hands—and then the bell rang,  the front door creaked open.

“Y/N?” her brother called, light and unaware.

She pulled away like I’d burned her.

No words. No glance. Just her back retreating, her fingers smoothing her skirt like she could iron the moment out of existence. I stood frozen, heart thundering like it wanted to break out of my ribs, still half in the kiss, half in the aftermath.

I didn’t know whether to follow her or flee.

She came back into the room a minute later, her voice flat. “Let’s finish the citations.”

Like I hadn’t just kissed her like she was the only thing that had ever made sense.

Like she hadn’t kissed me back.

Like the last five minutes were just a skipped paragraph in a novel that would never get read again.

We sat at the table. She opened her laptop. I opened mine. We divided the sources like strangers.

She read titles and years like she was eulogizing something that hadn’t even been born yet. I typed like it was a punishment. My fingers shook. She didn’t notice.

She didn’t laugh. Didn’t sigh. Didn’t call me pretentious or tell me I was overanalyzing.

She was gone.

Still sitting there. But gone.

When it was done, she closed her laptop with a soft finality that sounded like a goodbye. Said she’d submit the paper—because it was closer. Because it was easier. Because anything else would mean staying.

I nodded.

She walked me to the door.

Said, “Thanks for working on this.”

And then she shut it.

Not hard. Not cruel.

Just… shut it.

And I stood there in the hallway with nothing but the sound of her absence and the feeling of her lips like a ghost on mine.

__

It’s been nineteen days.

I’ve counted.

Like a prayer. Like a punishment. Like a countdown to the moment I finally give up.

I haven’t.

Every day, I wake up and tell myself I won’t check her profile. That I won’t walk past the library just to see if she’s sitting there, chewing the end of that pen like it’s got the answers she’s too scared to say out loud.

Every day, I lie.

Because I miss her.

And not just the idea of her. Not just her voice or her eyeliner or the way she once said “free will” like it was a middle finger to the universe.

I miss her.

Her mind. Her fury. Her precision.

The way she saw literature like it was a weapon and wielded it like she knew where to strike. The way she made me want to be better—not for a grade. For her.

Even before that night in the apartment… it was never just tension for me.

Not once.

I know people thought it was. That it was just a rivalry with a little heat and a lot of academic ego. But they didn’t see the way my stomach flipped when she looked at me and I knew she was about to destroy my entire point with one sentence. They didn’t see the way I memorized the rhythm of her voice during class. How I lingered after lectures just to walk the same hall she did, even if we didn’t talk.

It wasn’t tension.

It was devotion.

Quiet. Careful. Hidden in sarcasm and debates. But still—devotion.

And now, she won’t even look at me.

___

That’s why I’m here again. In the  Same basketball court. Same lights. Same echoes.

It’s past eight and I’ve been shooting for over an hour. Or trying to. Every shot clangs. Every rebound misses. I keep thinking if I move fast enough, if I sweat hard enough, the ache will leave my body.

It doesn’t.

The ball bounces away.

I don’t chase it.

“Did he say something?” Renjun asks.

“No,” Chenle answers. “He grunted once. Might’ve been a spell. Might’ve been his soul leaving.”

I don’t laugh. Not really. Just drop to the court floor like my bones have finally given up pretending.

They walk toward me. Chenle catches the ball. Renjun sits like he’s preparing to receive something heavy.

“Mark,” Renjun says gently. “Talk to us.”

I stare at the ground. Concrete. Dust. The edge of a shoelace coming undone.

“I kissed her,” I say. “No—we kissed. It wasn’t one-sided. It wasn’t even a question.”

My voice is raw. Like something torn.

“She kissed me like she wanted it. Like she’d been waiting for it. Like we were finally letting go of everything we’d been holding back.”

I press my palms to my face.

“And then her brother walked in with groceries.”

They don’t interrupt.

“She pulled away. Fixed her clothes. Walked out of the room like I didn’t just... mean something.”

Chenle sits beside me.

Renjun nods. “And?”

“And she came back in and told me we should finish the citations,” I whisper. “Just like that. Like she reset. Like she erased the kiss and started a new page.”

“She didn’t mention it. Not once. We finished the paper like two people who barely knew each other. And when it was done, she told me she’d submit it. Said she lived closer to Jung’s office.”

I swallow.

“She walked me to the door. Said thanks. And shut it before I could ask if we were going to talk about it.”

My chest aches.

“And then she never spoke to me again.”

Renjun’s brows are drawn. Chenle’s hand is on my shoulder.

“She’s ignoring me on campus. Online. Everywhere. I texted once. Asked if she submitted the paper. She replied, five hours later. ‘Submitted. No typos.’”

I laugh, but it’s empty. Like breath leaking from a cracked balloon.

“I feel like I dreamed the whole thing. Like I made her up. Like the kiss wasn’t real. Or worse—like it was, and I ruined it.”

Silence.

Then Chenle, softly: “You didn’t ruin anything.”

“She means everything to me,” I say, voice barely a whisper. “And I didn’t even know it fully until I lost her.”

I look at them—eyes wet, throat tight.

“I keep thinking if I said the right thing that night—if I’d stopped her, or followed her, or fought for it—maybe she wouldn’t have shut down. Maybe she wouldn’t have... erased me.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Renjun says, firm. “You were brave. You were real.”

“She’s scared,” Chenle adds. “Not of you. Of what you made her feel.”

“I just want her back,” I whisper. “Even if we argue again. Even if she mocks my thesis voice or tells me my shirt’s too crisp. I just... want her.”

“You still have her,” Renjun says. “She’s just scared to admit she still has you.”

I close my eyes.

And let myself break a little more.

Because when I kissed her, I gave her something I didn’t know I’d been saving.

And now, she’s holding it in silence.

And I don’t know if she’ll ever give it back.

Y/N's POV

I used to think I was untouchable.

Not in a cool, mysterious, femme-fatale kind of way. Just… safe. Armored. Scripted. Unreachable enough that no one could ever say they really knew me, and I could convince myself that was power.

But it wasn’t.

It was fear in eyeliner.

Thick, winged, perfect eyeliner that made people flinch before they got close. Made them think I was too sharp to hold. Made them think I liked being alone.

And maybe I did. Or maybe I just needed to believe that if I chose solitude, it wouldn’t hurt so much when it chose me first.

Because people leave.

That’s the one thing I’ve always known for sure.

They leave when you’re too much.

They leave when you’re not enough.

They leave when they see you stripped of all the carefully constructed defenses and realize you’re just… soft.

Just scared.

___

I’ve left people before they could leave me.

Friendships I cared about. People who saw too much. Who stayed too long. Who asked the kind of questions that threatened to collapse the version of myself I’d spent years building. The ones around me are the ones who are still outside of the wall I created, as long as they are outside I keep them near me. If they slip in,

I run

I’ve always run.

And I got good at acting like it didn’t hurt. Like I didn’t care. Like leaving first made me powerful instead of hollow.

It never worked.

But I told myself it did.

___

I’ve read enough books to know how it ends for girls like me.

The lonely ones with sarcasm in place of vulnerability. The ones who talk philosophy at parties instead of feelings. The ones who joke about isolation like it’s a punchline instead of a survival tactic.

I always said I understood Kafka.

But the truth is—I needed him.

I needed alienation to be romantic, or else it would just be… sad.

I needed to believe solitude was strength, or I’d have to admit I’ve been lonely for a long time.

I read romance novels late at night, hidden between Sontag and Woolf on my shelf, and dog-ear the pages where someone stays.

Not the ones where they kiss.

The ones where they stay.

And I pretend it doesn’t make my chest ache.

I pretend I don’t want that kind of love.

The kind where someone sees you—really seesyou—and doesn’t leave.

___

But then came Mark.

And he ruined the act.

He ruined everything

Because he didn’t flinch when I rolled my eyes. He didn’t back off when I sharpened my tongue. He challenged me, yes—but he also watched.

Really watched.

Like he was trying to translate the version of me no one else bothered to read.

He remembered things I only said once.

He noticed how I chugged down coffee even though I hated it.

He noticed how I stopped talking when I was overwhelmed.

He knew when I needed a new pen without asking.

And then he kissed me.

Or I kissed him.

It doesn’t matter.

What matters is that it wasn’t just a kiss. Not to me.

It was a question. A crack. A possibility.

It was someone saying: I see you. And I want you anyway.

And that terrified me.

Because what if I let myself believe it?

What if I let someone see the softness beneath the smirk, the need buried under the grades and highlighters and razor-edged monologues?

What if I opened my hands, let him hold them, and then—

he lets go?

What if I become someone’s favorite chapter… only for them to put the book down?

I wouldn’t survive it.

Not from him.

Not from Mark Lee.

___

So I shut the door.

Literally. Emotionally. In every way that mattered.

And now I pretend it didn’t happen.

I pretend the kiss was just a flash of tension. Just adrenaline. Just a misstep in a tightly choreographed rivalry.

But I know that’s a lie.

I can still feel the shape of his hands on my waist.

I can still hear the way he said my name like it was more than just a name.

And I miss him.

God, I miss him.

More than I’ve missed anyone. Maybe because I never let myself miss anyone before.

But I can’t show that.

Because if I let him back in, and he decides I’m not worth it—

If he says it didn’t mean anything—

Then all the pretending in the world won’t protect me from the kind of heartbreak I’ve spent my whole life dodging.

So I keep the eyeliner sharp.

Keep the books open.

Keep the sarcasm loaded.

Because it’s easier to be feared than forgotten.

It’s easier to run than risk staying.

It’s easier to pretend he doesn’t matter.

Even if every inch of me still burns from the moment he looked at me like I did.

Mark's POV:

I shouldn’t have stayed back.

That’s the first thing I think as the last of our classmates shuffle out of the literature room, their chatter fading down the hallway.

The air still smells like old paper and cheap coffee. The overhead lights buzz faintly. One flickers—once—as if the building itself is unsure whether I should be doing this.

She moves to leave too, stuffing her notebook into her tote with a practiced, casual speed. But I step in front of the door.

“Can we talk?” I ask, voice low.

She freezes.

Her eyes meet mine, unreadable. Her hand still gripping her pen.

For a second, it’s just the two of us and the ghost of everything we’ve been avoiding.

She doesn’t answer.

So I take the chance.

“Did it mean something to you?” I ask.

Straight. Bare. No inflection.

The desk between us suddenly feels like a canyon.

She exhales, slowly. Then, with the same calm edge she’s used a hundred times during classroom debates, she says, “I thought it was obvious.”

That word hits harder in the silence.

She keeps going.

“It was just sexual tension,” she says. “That’s all it was. Obviously, it didn’t mean anything.”

No stutter. No flicker of hesitation.

Like she has rehearsed this speech before walking into class.

Like she trimmed down every feeling just enough to fit it neatly into a line with no space left for me.

My throat tightens.

I swallow it back.

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” I ask.

Her jaw clenches. But her arms stay crossed, body perfectly still—like she knows even one shift will make her crack.

“No,” she says. “We finished the paper. There’s nothing left to say.”

I stare at her.

“We hated each other, remember?” she continues. “That was the whole thing. Competition. Banter. Enemies. We don’t have to talk anymore. Or look at each other in the hallway. Or pretend to smile in group discussions. None of that’s necessary now.”

The words are clean. Sharp. Efficient.

But the last line trembles.

Just barely.

It’s the only crack she lets slip.

I breathe in slowly, trying not to let her see how much it stings.

She doesn’t look away.

So I ask, one last time. Quietly. Carefully. With something in me already bleeding.

“I’m asking you again. Did it really mean nothing to you?”

She looks at me then.

Really looks.

And it hurts more than anything.

Because her eyes aren’t cold. They’re terrified.

Panic. Regret. A thousand things unsaid, pressed behind her lips like glass about to shatter.

But her voice?

Cruel.

Steady.

“Why would it mean something to me?”

That’s the moment it breaks.

Something quiet and desperate inside me folds in on itself.

I don’t let it show.

I straighten up, nod once, like I’m accepting something I never signed up for.

“Right,” I say, voice clipped. “Then let’s go back to not acknowledging each other.”

I pause. My voice almost wavers—but I hide it in sarcasm.

“I’d definitely appreciate that.”

She says nothing.

I step away from the door, giving her space.

“And if our paper gets accepted,” I add, “just send me an email. That’s all I need from you.”

That word again. Need.

I hate that I still do.

And I hate how she keeps saying obviously like we were never on the edge of something real.

I walk out before she can reply.

I don’t want to hear what comes next.

I don’t think I’d survive it.

Five steps down the hallway, my vision blurs.

And by the time I push open the stairwell door, I realize—

I feel like I’ve lost something I never even had.

But it still feels like everything.

___

Y/N's POV

The classroom door clicks shut.

Not a slam.

Just soft. Controlled.

Like he was still trying not to break something—even as I broke him.

I stay standing behind the last desk for a second.

Then my knees buckle, and I sink into the chair he just left behind, hoodie sleeves pulled over my hands, heart pounding like a war drum in my chest.

He asked.

Three times.

Like he needed me to undo the silence he’s been drowning in.

And I lied.

Every time.

I said it meant nothing. That it was just tension. That we didn’t matter.

Obviously.

God, that word.

It tasted like ash every time it left my mouth.

Because every time I said it, I watched him flinch—like I was slicing open something soft and unguarded inside him.

And when he said, Then let’s go back to not acknowledging each other,—

Something inside me cracked. Loud. Final.

Because that’s the one thing I never wanted.

To disappear from his world.

To walk into this room and not catch his glance across the table.

To forget the one night where he touched me like he knew me.

But I couldn’t say any of that.

Because if I did—and he didn’t stay?

I wouldn’t recover.

So I let him go.

And now I’m alone in this empty classroom, surrounded by chairs that still echo with everyone else’s laughter, curled over the desk we once shared, crying into the sleeves of the hoodie I wore the night we kissed.

I told him we hated each other.

But I never hated him.

I was just afraid he’d stop loving me—before I was ready to love him back.

Y/N's POV:

I wasn’t going to come.

But Giselle showed up with red lipstick and threats, and Jaehyun texted a winking emoji, and somehow I found myself standing in the middle of a living room that smelled like sweat, cheap beer, and the kind of memories I’d regret in the morning.

It had been two months.

Sixty-one days of pretending I didn’t see him in class. Fifty-eight of those days he didn’t even glance at me. The other three? I caught his eyes by accident—and it felt like being hit in the ribs with a book I loved and wasn’t ready to finish.

Mark Lee.

Who once argued with me like it was foreplay and now sat in the back of Professor Jung’s class like he was auditing life itself. Like he wasn’t even trying anymore. Like everything that once lit him up had burned out quietly, leaving behind the perfect shell of someone who used to burn for books and metaphors and—God, maybe even me.

And then I saw him.

Now.

Across the room.

Sitting on the couch like he belonged there, sprawled out like some poster boy for effortless destruction. And next to him—no, on him—was Kim Ara. Model major. Perfect. Popular. Pretty in a way I could never be. All sleek hair and fake lashes and that annoying kind of laugh that made guys think they were funny.

She was on his lap.

Like that’s where she belonged.

I swallowed hard, turned away so fast my drink sloshed. It felt like someone had ripped a favorite page out of my chest.

I don’t care.

I don’t.

“Hey,” Jaehyun said, suddenly next to me. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

I smiled like I hadn’t just watched my soul sit on someone else’s lap. “Giselle dragged me.”

“Then I owe her a thank you.” His grin was warm, easy. His hand brushed my lower back. “Drink with me?”

I nodded, mostly to get the burn out of my throat that wasn’t from alcohol.

And as I downed the first shot, then a second, then a third, I didn’t look toward Mark again.

But I felt him.

I always feel him.

___

Mark's POV:

I shouldn’t be here.

But Haechan said there’d be free pizza and girls with no emotional attachments and I said “fine” before I could remind myself that I don’t care about pizza or girls or this entire God-forsaken party.

I haven’t really cared about anything since the night she looked me in the eye and told me it meant nothing.

And I believed her.

Like an idiot.

Like someone who still thought she might crack. Might text. Might chase me down in the hallway and call me a pretentious asshole just to feel something again.

She didn’t.

She laughed in class with her friends. She wore that winged eyeliner like war paint. She answered Professor Jung’s questions with that fire in her voice that used to be reserved just for me. She was fine.

And I hated her for it.

But I hated myself more—for not moving on, for not letting go, for still scanning every hallway like my heart’s trying to find her before my brain remembers she doesn’t want to be found.

So yeah.

Ara.

She’s not bad. She smells okay. She laughs too loud but she doesn’t ask for anything. She doesn’t want my mind. She doesn’t want the parts of me still bleeding. She just wants someone to sit pretty with at parties.

Fine.

I let her sit on my lap.

I let her touch my shoulder, lean in, giggle against my neck like we’re starring in some frat party cliché.

And then I see her.

Her.

Standing across the room, dressed like the kind of heartbreak you beg to ruin you. Laughing at something Jaehyun said. Or pretending to. His hand on her waist like he’s allowed to be there. Like she’s not mine.

Except she’s not.

Not anymore.

“She’s been staring at you,” Haechan says, voice low in my ear.

I glare at him. “Shut the fuck up.”

He does.

But it’s too late.

I saw her.

I saw the way she looked away like it burned. I saw the way she smiled with her mouth but not her eyes. I saw her take three shots like she was trying to kill something inside her.

And I wanted to go to her.

God, I still do.

But Ara slides back into my lap. Her arm drapes around my shoulders like she belongs here.

I don’t even know her favorite book.

I don’t even know her middle name.

She’s just a distraction.

But right now, distraction is all I have.

Because if I look at Y/N again, I might remember the way she looked at me that night when I kissed her like she was every chapter I never wanted to end.

And if I do that—

I won’t survive this party.

I won’t survive her.

___

Just when I thought it has all ended.

It started with her smirk.

Not the fake, tight-lipped one she’s worn like armor for the last two months and twenty goddamn days.

The real one.

The one I remember from classrooms and late-night cafe arguments. The one that made my heart stutter just before she said something that ruined me in the best way. It’s the smirk of someone who just found a dagger and remembered how to use it.

And then she starts walking toward me.

I shouldn’t have come to this party.

I knew it when I saw her walk in wearing black like it was armor—shoulders high, lips painted the same color as the war she was clearly ready to start.

Y/N is a thousand things. But quiet? Never her natural state.

And tonight? She’s not quiet.

She’s back.

Back with that winged eyeliner sharp enough to slice. Back with the same walk that used to make even our professors sit up straighter. Back with the smirk that says: I’ve been silent long enough. Now watch me destroy everything I touched once.

She sees me.

Or worse—she sees Ara.

And then it happens.

The smirk.

Small. Slow. Controlled chaos behind kohl-lined eyes.

She’s holding her phone, but she’s not looking at it anymore. No, she’s looking right through Ara like she’s transparent.

She starts walking.

Each step purposeful. Her drink balanced casually in one hand like it’s just another accessory. The crowd parts like it knows better. Like it’s learned what happens when Y/N is wearing that look.

Ara doesn’t notice at first. She’s still laughing, still curled around me, still performing.

And then—

“I need to talk to you, Mark.”

Her voice slices through the bass, smooth and cold as marble. She doesn’t look at me when she says it.

She doesn’t have to.

Ara straightens, like she’s suddenly remembered her territory. Her hand tightens on my shoulder. She leans in—lips brushing my skin in a performance that feels faker than anything I’ve seen all night.

“Can’t you see we’re busy?”

She purrs it, like she’s trying to be seductive and territorial all at once.

“Whatever it is can wait. Right, Mark?”

Wrong move.

Y/N turns her full attention to Ara like a spotlight zeroing in.

She blinks once—slow. Dangerous.

And smiles.

“Busy?” she repeats, as if tasting the word. “Oh, I didn’t realize being draped over someone who hasn’t said your name once tonight counted as busy.”

Ara opens her mouth. Y/N doesn’t give her the chance.

She steps in—closer. Her voice is low but clear, every syllable designed to humiliate.

“Tell me—does it bother you, being a prop?”

Gasps ripple. Haechan lets out a low whistle. No one moves.

Ara blinks. “Excuse me?”

Y/N cocks her head. The smirk widens.

“Sorry. I just assumed anyone who voluntarily sits on a guy’s lap like a glorified fanny pack must be comfortable being silent and overlooked.”

Ara stiffens. “You’re—”

Y/N cuts her off like she’s trimming fat off a weak sentence.

“—jealous?” she finishes with a sweet laugh. “God, no. If I were jealous, I’d at least be losing to someone with a functioning braincell. You’re not competition. You’re comic relief.”

Ara looks around—people are watching. Phones aren’t out, but eyes are locked. She tries again. “Mark wants me here.”

Y/N doesn’t even blink.

“Sure he does. You’re low-effort. Zero threat. The emotional equivalent of plain toast. You don’t challenge him, you compliment him—like background music at a dentist’s office.”

Ara’s face burns. Her voice rises, but wavers.

“You think you’re better than me?”

And that’s when Y/N shifts—posture straight, chin high, that terrifying calm rolling in like a thundercloud.

“I don’t think, darling. I know.”

She steps forward—just an inch—and it’s like the entire room holds its breath.

“I can dismantle your entire personality in a single paragraph. You? You couldn’t handle a complex sentence without rereading it twice. You quote Pinterest. I quote Barthes. You wear his hoodie. I rewrote his thesis.”

Ara gasps—actual, shocked inhale.

Y/N leans in a fraction, voice low enough only the front row hears.

“And for the record? That’s not his hoodie.”

She lets that hang.

“I gave it to him. After I ruined him.”

Ara jolts back.

Visibly shaken. Unsteady.

She looks at me like I’m going to save her.

I don’t.

Because I can’t stop looking at her.

Y/N stands there—composed, cruel, unapologetically brilliant.

This isn’t jealousy.

It’s war.

Ara’s eyes water. She mutters something under her breath, but no one hears it.

She turns.

She runs.

Actually runs.

The party exhales.

And Y/N?

She straightens her jacket or more like Jungwoo's jacket over her dress.

Tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

And finally—finally—looks at me.

Her eyes are unreadable. Voice emotionless.

“I’m only telling you this because you asked me to let you know if our paper got accepted.”

No sarcasm now.

No smile.

Just the truth.

“It got in.”

A beat.

“Figured you’d want to know.”

She turns before I can speak. Her heels clicking once, twice, gone.

And I’m left sitting there—

Hollowed out.

Burning.

Wanting.

Wondering how I let the one girl who could destroy the whole room…

become the only one who could undo me.

Y/N's POV:

I slammed the door behind me and leaned against it, breathing hard.

“What the hell did I just do?”

That wasn’t professionalism. That wasn’t about the paper. That was me, marching into a party and roasting Ara like she was a freshman MLA citation.

I sank onto the couch, kicking off my heels. My head was buzzing—half alcohol, half adrenaline, and all regret wrapped in sarcasm. God, that was badass, sure, but it was also insane. Two months of avoiding each other and I just used a damn acceptance email as an excuse to eviscerate his lap ornament?

I groaned into my hands.

He didn’t even say anything. Not a word. Or maybe—I didn’t let him. Maybe I steamrolled him on purpose, so he wouldn’t see how much it hurt. How much she being on his lap hurt.

I mean, what was I supposed to do? Smile? Shake her hand? Ask how she felt being a glorified armrest?

No.

I stood up, trying to pace the frustration out of my body, when—

A knock.

I froze.

No. No way.

But I knew it was him before I opened the door.

I open the door.

Because of course I do.

Because I’m weak and stupid and still half-hearing the echo of my own voice from the party.

And there he is.

Mark Lee.

Standing in my doorway like he’s been waiting for this exact moment.

He doesn’t say hi. Doesn’t blink.

Just steps in.

And locks the door behind him like this is his fucking place.

Click.

He doesn’t even face me right away. He stands there for a second, back to me, like he’s gathering whatever scraps of restraint he still has left.

And when he finally turns—

His voice is low and furious.

“You don’t get to fucking say it didn’t mean anything,” he snaps, “and act like you own me.”

I stiffen. My arms cross on instinct. A shield. A trap.

“I don’t act like I own you.”

“Bull. Shit.”

He steps closer. Just one. But it feels like a threat. Or a dare.

“You walk into that party like a headline and glare at any girl near me like she’s infringing on your property.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Someone had to save your lap from her foundation stains.”

“Oh, you cared about what was on my lap?”

His voice is dangerous now. That smugness he wears like armor is gone. This is bare. Real.

And I hate how much it turns me on.

“I don’t care,” I lie.

“Then stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re seconds away from either hitting me or fucking me.”

That stops me.

My lips part but nothing comes out. He sees it. He feeds on it.

“What was it then, huh?” he snaps. “That night in this apartment. That kiss. That fucking kiss.”

I grit my teeth.

“It was a moment. Nothing more.”

“It was everything.”

“No,” I say, harsher now. “It was tension. That’s all. A disjointed moment.”

“You kissed me like you wanted to burn the world down,” he says. “And then you locked the door in my face.”

I feel heat rise in my throat.

I stay silent.

Because what can I say? That I still think about it? That I can’t walk past the goddamn bookcase without remembering the press of his mouth and the line he whispered about reading the filth out loud?

No.

So I give him the only lie I have left.

“You don’t mean anything to me.”

His jaw flexes.

And then he laughs—cold, low, twisted.

“Then tell your body that.”

He steps into me.

His hand reaches for my waist. Fingers skim fabric. Just a graze. But my body shudders like it’s been starved.

“Tell me you don’t mean it while I do this,” he murmurs, thumb sliding over my stomach, “and your breath hitches like I’ve got you on strings.”

I don’t respond.

Because my throat’s dry and my thighs are clenched and this is getting dangerous.

His hand glides higher.

“Do you touch yourself to that night?” he asks again—voice wrecked now, too dark, too deep.

“Do you lie in bed and remember how I had you pinned against this wall, how I said I’d read every filthy line out loud while my mouth was on your throat?”

His palm cups my breast.

I gasp—despite myself.

“You want me to stop?” he whispers.

Silence.

His thumb rolls over my nipple through the thin fabric of my dress.

I should say yes.

I don’t.

Because I can’t.

Because he’s right—I do remember that night. Every breath. Every stutter. Every heat-drenched second before my brother knocked.

His mouth finds my neck.

Not a kiss.

A bite. Wet and hot and possessive.

“You said it meant nothing,” he says. “But you never stopped me.”

“I didn’t want to make a scene.”

“Bullshit. You wanted to make a mess.” He licks the shell of my ear. “And baby, I would’ve made you fucking ruin your panties that night.”

I moan—low. Weak.

My head thuds back against the wall.

His other hand slides under the hem of my dress, pushing higher.

“You want to know what I would’ve done?” he growls, right at my ear. “I would’ve dropped to my knees, pulled your pretty little panties to the side, and eaten you until you were shaking.”

His fingers find the damp heat between my thighs.

“You would’ve grabbed that bookcase like it was a lifeline while I sucked your clit and tongue-fucked you slow. No mercy. Just mouth and moans and mess.”

His grip tightens. He palms me through my soaked underwear.

“You think I didn’t feel it?” he hisses. “You were so fucking wet right? You wanted it. You still fucking want it.”

I shake my head.

Lie. Lie. Lie.

“You mean nothing,” I whisper.

His laugh is brutal.

“Then why the fuck are you grinding into my hand?”

I am.

I don’t know when it started.

But I’m rolling my hips, soft and desperate, into his palm like I’m begging for it.

“Say it again,” he dares.

I don’t.

Because my lies don’t hold anymore.

Because he’s touching me and I’m dripping and everything I’ve tried to bury is alive between my legs and his filthy fucking words.

I tell him he means nothing.

And he laughs. Like that lie tastes sweet coming from my mouth.

Then he palms my pussy through my panties, slow and warm and firm.

“No,” he whispers, eyes dragging down my body. “This says otherwise.”

His whole hand cups me—his fingers sliding gently back and forth like he’s petting it. Like he’s learning it.

“You’re soaked. Fucking dripping. And all I did was walk in and say your name.”

He rubs slowly, up and down, pressing his palm flat against my clit through the soaked fabric, watching me try not to react.

“You feel that?” he murmurs. “How messy you are for me?”

He groans softly.

“I could get off just on this—just touching this perfect cunt through your ruined little panties.”

I whimper. My hips tilt up into his hand, my legs clenching like I can hold onto what’s left of me.

He leans in again.

And then—his other hand goes to my chest.

“These,” he mutters, gripping one of my breasts through my dress. “You’ve been hiding these like I wouldn’t fucking notice.”

He palms it roughly, squeezing until I gasp.

“You wore this dress to that party just to piss me off, didn’t you?”

He yanks the neckline down, almost spilling me into his hand.

“Fucking perfect,” he groans, pinching my nipple over my bra between his fingers. Then his mouth is there, like he doesn't care about the barrier.

Hot. Wet. Worshipping.

Sucking it hard, licking it like he’s punishing me with every flick of his tongue.

He pulls off.

“Tell me I don’t matter while I’ve got my mouth on your tits.”

I can’t.

I’m trembling.

He kisses down my body—every inch, every curve—and then drops to his knees, like he’s meant to be there.

He pulls my panties aside and pets me again.

Two fingers part my folds and he stares.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes. “Look at that pussy. Shiny and swollen like it’s begging for my tongue.”

Then his fingers glide through it—up, down, spreading me open like he’s reading something he never wants to forget.

“You’re so wet it’s dripping down your thighs.”

He leans in—and spits. Right on my clit.

I moan. High. Broken.

He spreads it in with his thumb, circling slow, then fast, teasing until I’m shaking.

“You like being played with like this?” he asks. “Touched like a needy fucking toy?”

His tongue finally presses to me.

One long, slow drag from my entrance to my clit.

And then—he dives in.

He devours.

Licks my clit like it’s his job—sucking, flicking, tongue lapping until I’m gasping his name and digging my fingers into his hair.

His hands grip my thighs tight. Pull me forward. Spread me wider.

“Fucking grind on it,” he growls between licks. “Rub this pretty pussy on my face like the filthy little thing you are.”

I do.

I ride it.

I roll my hips against his tongue because I can’t fucking stop. His nose bumps my clit as he tongue-fucks me, and I moan—sharp, loud, shameful.

“You’re gonna come in my mouth,” he says, sucking my clit so hard I almost cry. “Right now. Just like this. Fucking drench me.”

And I do.

I come hard. Shaking. Crying out.

My whole body spasms as he keeps licking me through it, groaning like he can’t get enough, like he needs everything I give.

When I finally stop shaking, he pulls back.

His mouth glistens. His eyes are wild.

And he just smirks.

“Still think I don’t matter?”

____

Mark's POV:

She’s still gasping when I pull back from between her legs.

My mouth’s soaked with her. My jaw aches. My tongue’s twitching.

But I can’t stop staring.

I’ve waited months for this—months of pretending, avoiding, locking eyes from across rooms and pretending we didn’t mean that kiss.

And now?

Now she’s trembling, lips parted, legs spread wide and twitching from the orgasm I pulled out of her like a confession.

Still wearing that tight fucking dress.

Still trying to hold on to her dignity.

I’m done letting her.

I stand. Wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. My cock’s hard as stone behind my jeans, throbbing with every pulse of blood screaming her name.

And I look at her.

“We’re not done.”

I don’t give her time to speak.

I scoop her up into my arms and she gasps—soft, startled—but she clings to me.

Good girl.

I carry her down the short hallway like she’s mine. Because right now, she is.

I shoulder open the door to her room.

And I see it.

Her bed.

Her books, the remaining books that are not in that bookshelf in the hall.

That stupid little stack of dog-eared paperbacks by the lamp—spines bent, margins full of notes.

I smirk.

Because this is her shrine. Her real self.

And she’s about to get fucked in the middle of it.

I drop her on the mattress—carefully, but not gently.

She bounces once. Legs still open. Hair fanned out. Eyes locked on me like she doesn’t know whether to run or beg.

I move over her—slow. Controlled.

Hands on either side of her head.

I lean down, lips brushing her jaw.

“You kept those books by your bed.”

She doesn’t respond.

I kiss down to her neck.

“You lie here every night with those filthy scenes three inches from your pillow, don’t you?”

Her body tenses.

Good.

“You annotated them, baby.”

I kiss her shoulder. “You underlined the scenes where he fingers her under the desk. Where he ruins her in the library.”

Another kiss. Lower.

“You remember what I said that night?” I murmur. “About reading those lines out loud? Making you feel every one?”

I sit back on my knees.

“Take the dress off.”

She hesitates.

"Stop me now if you don't want this." I say but she doesn't stop me.

So I grab the hem and do it for her.

I drag it up her body—slow, teasing—exposing smooth skin, flushed curves, and the lacy black bra she wore to taunt me tonight.

She’s breathless already. And I haven’t even touched her tits yet.

I toss the dress to the floor and press my palm between her legs again—over her soaked panties.

“Still dripping.”

She whines—faint, helpless.

My other hand slides up, over her stomach, between her breasts, then curls around the lace covering one perfect tit.

“You wore this for me.”

I drag the cup down.

Her breast spills out and I groan.

“Fuck.”

I cup it. Squeeze. Then lean down and suck her nipple into my mouth.

Hot. Wet. Worshipful.

I bite it. She moans.

“You like being touched like a fucking goddess, don’t you?”

I move to the other one. Repeat it. Rougher.

Her hips twitch under my hand.

I pull her panties to the side and run two fingers through her folds—slow and warm.

So fucking wet.

“But I know what you really want,” I growl, pulling away just enough to look her dead in the eye.

“You want to be worshipped and ruined. You want to be treated like something precious while I fuck you like a dirty little whore.”

She gasps.

I press a finger into her—easy.

Then another.

She clamps around me instantly.

I fuck her slow with them, curling them just right.

Her eyes flutter.

“You needed this, didn’t you?” I whisper. “Not just someone to fuck you. Someone to understand you.”

I press my lips to hers.

Just once.

Then pull back.

“Say yes.”

“Y-yes.”

I smirk.

I pull my shirt over my head, watching her eyes drop to my chest, my stomach, lower.

Unbutton my jeans. Push them down.

My cock slaps against my abs—angry red, leaking, twitching for her.

Her mouth falls open.

I climb over her.

Line up.

Rub the head against her clit.

“This is what those books were leading to,” I murmur. “Not slow kisses. Not confessions. Just this—me, in your bed, about to ruin you for everyone else.”

I push the head in—just enough for her body to react.

And it does.

She shudders beneath me like my cock is plugged into her nervous system.

Her legs tighten around my waist. Her hands clutch the sheets. Her lips part in a gasp I want to own.

But I don’t move.

Not yet.

I want her to feel this. Every stretched, aching second of it.

“You ready?”

She nods—breathless.

“Say it.”

“I want you,” she whispers.

I push in—slow. Measured. An inch at a time.

“Fuuuck.” I groan through gritted teeth. “You feel that?”

I lean down, panting in her ear.

“This pussy’s hugging me like it’s been waiting for months.”

I bottom out—completely buried—and she moans like I’ve punched the air from her lungs.

But I don’t move.

I just grind.

Deep, slow circles with my hips that make her shake.

“I’m not gonna fuck you yet,” I whisper. “You’re gonna feel me first.”

She claws at my back.

I pull out halfway—just to slam back in.

She screams.

And that’s when I start to fuck her.

Hard. Deep. Rhythmic. Relentless.

But not fast.

I keep the pace slow and devastating—designed to make her feel everything.

Designed to make her beg for the speed she thinks she can handle.

“You’re gonna come before I even give you what you want,” I growl. “That’s how badly this cunt needs me.”

I reach between us. Thumb to her clit. Rub in slow, tight circles.

She moans.

Her walls start fluttering.

Tight. Hot. Perfect.

“Oh my god—Mark—I—”

“That’s it,” I pant. “Come on it. Cream all over this cock. Show me what I’ve been missing while you pretended I didn’t matter.”

And she does.

She fucking does.

She comes—loud, messy, clenching around me so hard I have to stop moving just to breathe through it.

But I don’t stop.

“That’s two now.”

I shift. “Get on your hands and knees.”

She doesn’t even argue.

She turns, shaking, breathless, hair falling over her shoulders like a curtain.

I grab her hips and slam back in.

This angle?

I feel everything.

Her walls grip me like she wants to keep me.

I reach around, grab a handful of her tit, bounce it in my palm, then slap it.

She whines.

“Still pretending I don’t mean anything?”  thrusting harder. “Still lying to yourself while you take this cock like a trained little slut?”

She shakes her head.

Good girl.

“You’re gonna come again.”

She gasps.

“From the back. No clit. Just this cock and my voice.”

I lean down. “You think I can’t make that happen?"

I slam into her again.

And again.

Until the moans turn into whimpers.

Until she’s dripping, shaking, thighs clenching like she’s trying not to break.

And then—

She comes.

Harder.

Legs collapsing. Arms shaking.

I don’t stop.

I drag her up by her back. Press her against my chest. Hand around her throat—gentle, not tight—just there.

“You’re mine now,” I whisper. “You gave this to me. Every sound. Every squeeze. Every orgasm.”

She moans.

I drop her back onto the bed and hover over her.

“You want one more?”

She nods. Weak. Ruined.

I grip her thighs. Spread her wide. Slam back in and fuck her like I’m trying to carve my name inside her.

My pace turns brutal.

Sloppy. Desperate. Unforgiving.

"I'll pull out" I assure her

"No, don't.....I'm on the pill." She says.

"Fuck, you are the bane of my existence." I mutter

She moans louder.

And I do.

I thrust one last time and explode.

Cock twitching, cum spilling deep inside her while her body trembles through a third orgasm.

We collapse.

Sticky. Messy. Full.

Because she deserved nothing less.

_____

Y/N's POV:

His body is still half-tangled in mine, breath heavy against my skin, chest rising and falling like the last lines of a poem he doesn’t want to end.

We’re both quiet.

Not the awkward kind. Not the what-did-we-just-do kind.

The kind of silence that crackles—like a storm left humming in the air.

Like if we speak, something sacred might break.

I feel his fingers slide across my thigh—barely a touch, more like a trace.

Like he’s still making sure I’m real.

And maybe I am, for the first time.

I’m lying next to Mark Lee, both of us undone, clothes forgotten at the foot of the bed, the room smelling like sweat and want and overdue honesty. My head rests against his shoulder, our legs brushing like they forgot they used to be on opposite sides of every argument.

His hand settles on my hip, fingers splayed like a reluctant claim.

And I whisper it.

So soft I’m not sure it leaves my mouth at first.

“Stay.”

I feel him stiffen, just slightly. A breath held. A pause in the universe.

He turns his head, lips ghosting the edge of my hair. “What?”

I keep my eyes on the ceiling.

It’s safer than his face.

“I said… stay,” I repeat, quieter this time. “Just… stay tonight.”

For a moment, I think he’ll ask why. Push. Tease.

He doesn’t.

He shifts beside me, pulls the blanket over both of us, and breathes out like he’s been holding that yes in for years.

And then—he stays.

No words. No questions. No expectations.

Just his arm wrapping around me.

My back against his chest.

His breath against the crook of my neck.

And it’s terrifying how good it feels.

Not the sex.

Not the chemistry or the kiss or the way he knows how to press his mouth just under my jaw like it’s a secret he’s coaxing out of me.

This.

This stillness.

This warmth.

This feeling of belonging, like he’s not just in my bed, but in the spaces I’ve locked up for too long.

And as I drift off, heart full and fluttering, I think—

Maybe I won’t mess this up.

Maybe I’ll let myself have something good.

Maybe.

___

When I wake up, the bed is still warm, but he’s not there.

The space beside me is empty, the covers half-pulled back like he tried not to wake me. Like he slipped out quietly, like it's his turn to run away from me.

My heart drops before my brain can catch up. I sit up, scan the room. No shoes. No shirt. No Mark.

For a second, I think—of course. Of course he left.

But then I see it.

A folded piece of paper under my phone.

I open it slowly, half-expecting some apology, or worse, some goodbye.

But it’s just a location pin and five words:

“Meet me here. Please come.”

No explanation.

No overthinking.

Just him.

I read it three times.

Then I set the paper down like it’s fragile. Like it might disappear if I blink too hard.

And for once, I don’t panic. I don’t hide behind sarcasm. I don’t ghost him before he can ghost me.

I get up.

And I dress like it matters.

Not in armor.

Not in black hoodies and tired jeans.

In something soft. Something honest.

A long cream dress that hugs me just enough to make me feel like poetry. A cardigan he once called “pretentious grandma chic” because I wore it during a presentation on Woolf. A dab of perfume behind my ears. Just enough makeup to draw on my confidence—but no eyeliner wings tonight.

Just me.

Raw.

Vulnerable.

Wanting.

By the time I step out into the early evening air, the sun is slanting low, casting the city in gold.

And I walk like I’m walking into a story I haven’t read the ending of.

Y/N's POV:

The location is like something out of a forgotten book.

Like a tucked-away garden behind the old Veritas Bookstore. Faded brick paths, a wrought-iron bench, ivy curling up the edges like it’s trying to listen in.

And he’s there.

White button-down, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Brown pants that hang soft at his hips. Hands tucked into his pockets like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

He looks up.

And the moment he sees me—he smiles.

Not the smug, infuriating grin I know by heart.

Not the smirk he wore the time we debated Kafka and fate.

This one is different.

Soft. Awed. Like I’m the final line of a poem he’s been trying to write.

I don’t say anything at first. Just stand there, feeling the air between us stretch and hold.

He steps closer. Not too close. Just enough.

And then:

“You came,” he says, voice quiet.

I nod.

“Why this place?” I ask.

He shrugs, a little sheepish. “You said once you wanted to write your thesis somewhere that felt like a secret. I found it last month. Thought maybe you’d let me read my confession here.”

I laugh. Just once. But it cracks something open in my chest.

He takes a breath.

And then he speaks.

“Listen to me. I’ve run enough. Or maybe I’ve let you run from me enough times. I’m done with that now. What happened between us—it’s not just tension or mistakes or whatever we keep pretending it is. It meant everything to me.”

He steps forward, just slightly, voice roughening.

“You don’t know how you make me feel. How I annotate your existence like it’s the only way I know how to stay alive. I annotate the curve of your smile when you know you’re about to verbally destroy someone. I annotate your silences—especially the ones filled with meaning. I even annotate your fucking eyeliner. The way it slants, the way it slices. I never knew I could love a goddamn winged liner until you.”

I feel my throat tighten.

He goes on, eyes never leaving mine.

“I annotate everything you are. Every time you looked at me like I was a challenge, every moment your pen hovered like a weapon. And that kiss? I think I have annotated it into my eyes, every time I close my eyes that's the only thing I see. It’s still playing on loop in my head. Like it’s the only scene I’ll ever need to remember to know what truth feels like.”

He laughs, almost nervously.

“I think I’ve become Darcy. Except more annoying.”

I bite my lip. The ache is blooming in my chest now, sharp and familiar.

“I like you, Y/N. Too much. Even if you say you hate me. Even if it kills me. Because I want you. But more than that—I want you to want me.”

I look at him.

And he’s standing there like a question I’ve been too afraid to answer.

So I do.

“I hate you,” I say, voice trembling.

He flinches. But not much.

Just enough to show it still hits.

“I know,” he whispers. “But I wish it meant something else.”

I take a breath.

And I let go.

“What if it does?” I say. “What if it means I hate how much I want to annotate you and your soul now? Your voice. Your stupid jokes. Your insufferable need to be right. Your kindness that you try to hide behind sarcasm. What if I already have?”

He stares at me.

Like I said Poe is alive and quoting Plato.

And I keep going. Because I can’t stop.

“Mark—I’m not good at this. I’m not easy. I run. I ghost. I make a mess. But last night, when you stayed or when I asked you to stay. That mattered.”

I pause.

“You mattered.”

A beat.

And then I say the hardest thing:

“I want to try. Not just the paper. Not just the late nights and the bickering and the café tables. Us. I want to try… us."

And he doesn’t speak.

He just pulls me into his arms like he’s been holding space for me all along.

And I let myself fall into him.

For once—not running. Not overthinking.

Just staying.

____

Days had passed. Somehow, we’d slipped into this new version of us—softer, less sharp-edged, still witty, still dangerous, but... warmer.

I spot him from across the field.

Mark Lee. Laughing at something Haechan said, head tilted back, hair a mess, white tee sticking to his chest in the sun.

Jeno's tossing a water bottle to Jisung, Chenle’s dribbling aggressively like the basketball personally insulted his family, and Renjun is making the exact face of someone regretting being friends with all of them.

And there he is.

Mine.

Mark sees me, and his smile spreads—like it’s involuntary. Like it’s for me and only me.

I don’t bother slowing down.

I just walk right into his arms, my head against his chest, his chin resting lightly on top of mine as he presses a kiss to my forehead.

“Ewww,” Haechan groans. “Do that in private. Or like… not at all.”

“Ruined anyone else today?” Mark asks, voice smug and amused.

“Not yet,” I murmur against his shirt. “But the day is young.”

He chuckles, arms still tight around me. “That’s my girl.”

“Okay, I’m gonna vomit in my shoe,” Jeno mutters.

Mark ignores them, pulling a crumpled envelope from his back pocket.

“Oh—speaking of ruining lives… our certificate came.”

I blink. “Wait, seriously?”

He nods. “Fresh off. We’re officially Published Academic Intellectuals now.”

“Oh, so the world is really not ready,” I grin.

“Nice,” Renjun says dryly. “Two enemies-to-lovers becoming a published duo. It’s like watching a fanfic unfold in real time.”

“Enough,” Chenle cuts in, walking up to us. “We’re all exhausted from watching you two circle each other like emotionally constipated philosophers. Honestly, it was hilarious. And tragic. Hilariously tragic. Tragicomedy, really.”

“Says the one who’s still hung up on his childhood friend,” Mark shoots back without missing a beat.

Chenle immediately raises a hand. “We are not speaking about that.”

Jaemin leans in with a grin. “Can we please speak about the way Y/N eviscerated that poor girl at the party? That was art. Like, Shakespeare would’ve cried.”

“I don’t know about art,” I shrug, but I’m smiling. “Maybe just… poetic justice.”

“You said she was background music at a dentist’s office,” Jisung reminds me. “I’ve never been so scared and so entertained.”

“She brought it on herself,” I say. “By sitting on my thesis partner.”

Mark smirks. “Possessive. Hot.”

“Down, literature boy.”

Jaemin fake-swoons. “God, you guys are so romantic. I hope you crash and burn.”

“Thanks, Jaem. Your support means nothing.”

There’s a beat of comfortable silence, the kind that settles among people who know too much about each other but love each other anyway.

Then I glance at Mark.

“I’m really curious about something,” I say slowly, like I’m unwrapping a question that’s been sitting on my tongue, just to annoy the guys.

He lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

I lean in. “Was it the eyeliner? Or the annotated Kafka rants? What finally broke you?”

Mark grins. “Oh, that’s easy. It was the moment you told me Gatsby wasn’t doomed, just dumb. I fell right there.”

“Tragic. I really thought it was the pen-chewing.”

“That too. Honestly, I was gone the second you glared at me like I’d misquoted Woolf.”

Chenle groans. “Can someone please bring me earplugs and a reason to live?”

“Just be glad they’re not debating footnotes mid-makeout anymore,” Haechan says, shuddering. “We’re all traumatized.”

___

Mark's POV:

The library’s colder than I remember. Maybe it’s the lighting. Or maybe it’s because I’m with her, and everything feels too damn significant now.

We walk past the Eliot section.

She says nothing, but I catch the faintest upward curve of her lips when her eyes glance over The Waste Land.

Of course she remembers.

We reach the reference shelves. She grabs Understanding Literary Theory at the same moment I reach for The Companion to Modernism.

Our hands brush.

She doesn’t look up.

But I do.

I watch her.

The way her fingers move along the spine of the book like they’re tracing history. The way her lashes lower just slightly when she knows I’m watching.

God.

She’s unreal.

I say it before I can stop myself.

“I think I really am siding with free will now.”

She blinks. Finally looks up. “What?”

I take a breath.

“Choosing really matters. I used to think fate had everything figured out, you know? That maybe if I didn’t act, the universe would. That if we were meant to be, we would be, eventually.”

She tilts her head. Curious. Open.

So I keep going.

“But that was bullshit. You don’t get people like you by waiting. You choose them. You risk it. You screw it up. You learn how to deserve them.”

She watches me now with something unreadable behind her eyes.

And then—

“Too bad, Mark Lee,” she murmurs, stepping closer, “because now I believe in fate.”

I blink.

She clutches the book tighter to her chest. Like it’s armor. Or proof.

“From the moment you wouldn’t shut up about Eliot in freshman year… to every debate we’ve ever had. I think all of it—every paper, every fight, every sideways glance—was fate. Maybe you were always meant to be mine.”

I think something in me breaks open at that.

Or maybe heals.

“Didn’t know you could say things like that,” I whisper.

She smiles.

And I can't help it.

I lean in and kiss her. Right there. Between post-structuralist theory and feminist criticism. Soft, slow. Like time paused just to watch.

She leans into it.

And in that moment, I’m not thinking about fate or free will or deadlines or grades or what we’re going to be five years from now.

I’m just thinking about her.

___

Y/N's POV:

Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore.

Free will or fate.

I think I want both of them to end up giving me you.

And guess it did.

End

Author's note:

Okay guys… here it goes—the first footnote of Turn the Page to Us. This series was originally supposed to be pure fluff with some simmering sexual tension. I never intended to write smut in this… but the tension got way too out of hand and, well. Here we are.

This is my first time writing smut ever, so please bear with me. I genuinely didn’t know I had this in me, and now I think I need to go outside and touch some grass.

If you’re planning to read the other footnotes in this series, let me know—should I keep adding smut? Or should I go back to fluff with light tension? I want to know what you guys vibe with.

Thanks for reading and spiraling with me.

[svnnynostalgia]

jinx x ACADEMIC OVERACHIEVER!FEM!reader

just a lil thing for y'all literally right after my title defense

now Jinx could care less about her acads, sure she's a genius, but that don't mean she's looking to be one, she just happened to be smart. the kind that didn't listen to lectures, didn't take notes or participate all that much. but when exams and tests hit, you can bet her scores are high if not perfect.

not on philosophy, literature, or english though, she cannot for the life of her find interest or understanding in those topics.

but no matter how she feels about acads, she makes sure to validate your achievements when it comes to them.

jinx would be the type of girlfriend who supports you through and through, she may not look like it but she'd even make you little gifts and trinkets for your achievements!

she'd be the type to make you welded metal flowers, or a little monkey brooch. spending all day at her little workshop in her father's spare garage. grinning to herself about how much you'll love it, or well, hoping you'll love it.

she'd be pacing just a teeny bit anxiously as she waits for you to come out of the classroom from your title defense presentation; I mean yeah she's got faith in your skills but she's got to be ready to comfort you just in case or for anything and everything right? right???

her little gift would be in her pocket, messily wrapped in papers with little doodles all over them, she'd put her hands in her pockets every once in a while, feeling at the gift, it's shape and its texture through the wrapping. she just can't wait to give her girl her gift!!

and the moment she hears the door creak, hearing the clicks of your high-heeled mary janes, she jumps up from her seat, immediately facing you, but she's quiet, as she waits for you to break the news.

you slowly meet her eyes, a solemn look in your gaze before a gleaming grin breaks out upon your expression "TITLE DEFENDED!" you'd scream, and upon hearing those words, she takes you into her arms and spins you round, a myriad of praise escaping her lips, she's just so proud of you!

she talks people's ears off about how amazing 'her girl' is and everyone who's unfortunate enough to hear it is like "yes jinx, we know jinx." And to other people she's like "heh, my girlfriend got her title defended on the FIRST try, yeah that's right, the FIRST try!" and she'd be talking to someone who already knows 💀

[cookie-arts]

Care for a dance, my dear?

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ZENJI!!!!

I was so happy I managed to finish this before this day ended (I badly needed a break from my acads, so this was a good opportunity to do so). Zenji is my first ever pick in the prologue and I completely fell in love with his character.

I absolutely love his tarot card (he looks so good in it 😩) so I decided to draw him in his outfit in the card. Unfortunately though, I still haven't gotten him so it was a bit difficult to rely on just the card art as reference, but I think I did well in drawing it.

This is also my TKDB MC's (still deciding a name for her) debut and I really liked how she turned out 🤭.

Anyways, here's the inspo for this

((This is one of my favorite HanaNene scenes in the manga))

Tagging my TKDB moots out there :3

@cloudcountry @12am-motivation @stinkyturd

[justcallmebc]

Just a little while longer.

Summery: What happens when suddenly your supposed friend, who is very unbothered and lazy, calls you over to his house? well lets see shall we? ♡ Warnings: Kinda fast Pace and Awkward, bad grammar, and slight fluff in the end.

A/n: I DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE AESTHETIC :c , Anyways I was bored so I'm trying to write again hehe. Don't expect it to be good (Maybe I should put this as a warning?).

Edit A/n: I AM SO SORRY THAT I FORGOT TO MENTION ABOUT SPOILERS 🙏🏾. THIS HAS MANGA SPOILERS.

Walking felt nice every once in a while. You liked the way your thoughts arranged themselves when your legs did the moving. Streets became quieter. The air wrapped gently around your limbs like an old friend.

Walking felt nice but right now you were a little anxious. Why? well because someone called you over. Someone you didn't expect to call. Not because you were enemies or anything. No dramatic falling-outs, no bitter misunderstandings. The truth was you and Nagi Seishirou had just never been close.

Its just that you both didn't talk much, and the person who was responsible for being the bridge was missing... or more like busy. Busy chasing his ambition.

Turning your phone on again, you did a re-check on the small conversation you had with Nagi. nothing much, just a simple 'hey, are you busy?' and 'come over.' You doubt it was a request.

The thing with you and Nagi was, you both were unknown to each other. Never talked once even though being in the same class, until Reo Mikage introduced him to you one day. You and Reo were really good friends. It is expectable due to Reo's status both in and off school premises.

It all began with you having a small doubt in Math. Now, both of you shared any sorts of knowledge in interest. Of course Reo was always surrounded by others as well, luckily he considered you as a good friend. Which is why he would spare sometime for you.

You had been a great supporter to Reo for his dream of soccer. Though you have also heard many people talk behind his back about how he shouldn't waste his life on something as mere as soccer. You couldn't careless, you were just happy that Reo finally found something of his interest. Which is why you were the first person he told his dream to.

You still remember how Reo Introduced Nagi, even though you already knew him,- chest puffed with pride, arm flung around Nagi’s slouched shoulders, declaring "We're gonna win the World Cup together." Nagi didn't talk much other than a lazy 'Hi', ah yes the lazy genius. You always wondered how this boy scored so much in exams while not paying attention at all. Lucky bastard (friendly). You were there while they practiced or more like paying a visit during breaks or after school. You had a goal to achieve too so can't just follow them around. Their goal and your goal was different, and you wanted to achive yours- not willing to be the supportive side character who follows around some protagonist's with the hopes of getting recognized by them, never wanting to be the side character to someone else's story.

A long time had passed since you saw either of the boys. Ever since Reo told you that they got accepted in 'Blue Lock'. You had your questions about the organization but didn't waver too much, giving your congrats and a promise to see each other in a better position if they ever meet after years. Gradually the time passed, you were content with your life and few friends to converse with. That was until you met Nagi again, about 2 days ago. You approached him after all the classmates congratulated him or just shamelessly asking for Reo and being unbothered about him. Typical conversation for a loner with a popular person. What shocked you was Nagi's reply to one of the classmate.

You didn't pry further, simply greeting him and congratulated him for his play. For some reason, you knew you shouldn't ask about his football experience.

You were close to his apartment, which was in fact the student dorms of Hakuho Academy. It's not like you've been there before but looking back to when Reo described it being as sparse as a prison cell or his closet... of course who are you kidding it even might be. You also remember distinctly Reo mentioning about Nagi living alone. When you further inquired Nagi on it, he simply said 'Yes' and that his parents having a Laissez-Faire lifestyle so they left him be. You can't say for sure if you were able to hide your discontent with the statement.

The reason you felt so anxious was because you remember vividly about yesterday evening. When you decided to ask soft, more tame questions about his soccer experience and walk home with nagi. You recall, seeing his slouched form on the table through the glass. You remember hearing very faint sniffles and seeing his shoulder tremble. You walked alone that evening.

And now, you're walking straight to his apartment. Damn it, if it was anything you were bad at it was finding comforting words. You don't know how to comfort people other than listening.

"... Fucking hell..."

You never thought standing in front of someone's door would make you question your life choices but here we are. Feeling this weird pit in your stomach for a while you decided to grab some snacks for both of you on your way here. Nothing fancy just 2 drinks and something to munch on... okay, maybe you bought your favorite snacks, but hey in your defense it's not like you knew what type of snacks Nagi like because most of the time he would consider eating as a 'hassle'.

After contemplating for a while, you finally gave in and rung the bell. It was in a matter of minutes that he opened the door, as if he was waiting for you.

"Hey, Nagi" you said casually to mask your anxiousness. Nagi greeted you back, his eyes flickering to the snack bag for a brief second before turning around and letting you in. You pretended to be unaware of his stare. Has he even eaten anything? Nagi urge you to sit down on his bed, after your refusal, while he moved in further.

You looked around the apartment which seemed small for even someone as tall as him. Huh maybe it really might be the size of Reo's Closet. Sitting down on the bed you handed Nagi the snack bag.

"grabbed some on the way here" you tried sounding casual with a small smile. Nagi didn't question and took the bag, making his way to the kitchen for serving them.

"Soo.. what's with the sudden invitation" you hoped your desperation for leaving wasn't noticeable. You didn't know how to talk or what to talk with this guy. You barely knew shit he likes. "oh, yea Reo gave me one of your book for reference saying that I directly hand it to you" Nagi spoke, sounding a little tired though you noticed there was an edge to his voice. Of what though? You can't decipher.

"My.. book? Wait which one?" Reo gave him your book? Since when did this genius need help?

"Yea, literature, I was absent due to cold. Remember?"

"oh, yea.." Hardly, it's saddening how easy it is to not notice him around. Nagi returned with the snacks and placed them on the bed while the drinks on the floor near the bed.

"I thought I'll return it to you today" so he didn't remove it? "I was about to remove it but I fell asleep" of course..

"Take your time I'm not in a hurry as of now" you stated, now feeling a bit more relaxed then when you were standing out. Nagi contemplated.

"Nagi, how about you eat first, and then take your time searching for it" you suggested. He scratched the back of his neck before sighing and sitting down opposite of you, with the snacks in between, and started eating. You didn't stop yourself either.

As you savoured the snack in your hands, out of curiosity, you looked around the appartment. Nothing too much or too little. Just cozy enough for one person. Huh, doesn't seem so bad after all. Actually how the hell he cooks? Does he even know how to cook?

You glanced at him. He was staring out the window. You can't help but notice those red bags under his eyes. Was he crying again? Your throat was itching for asking questions. Shit, you're used to throwing questions at Reo, even when Nagi was around but now you didn't know if it's even ok for you to do so with the topics in your mind. Be tame, you thought, maybe not ask at all, you can't decide. You closed your eyes and chewed in the last bits, your eyes slightly burning behind your eyelids due to staring too much onto the side. Picking up another piece you suddenly blurted out-

"So, how did soccer go?"

Silence. There was a lot of silence.

".. It was ok"

...

"You're gonna continue playing?"

"No"

Okay, that was direct... You thought while munching on the snack.

There was even longer silence than before until you asked.

"You alright?" quite bluntly, and not in a tender manner either. Fuck it, you hate this awkward silence.

".. Yea?"

"why do you sound confused then,"

"Im n-"

"Its over Nagi, I saw it"

Silence once again.

"wha-" "I saw the match"

Were you rude? probably. Did you care? yes, about Nagi of course. Because now that you fully look at him, he is in shambles. Messy hair, messy cloths and looks like he hadn't eaten until you arrived.

"I know its over" he mumbled, "Then let it go" You replied audibly.

"I did" he got smaller, "You liar" and you still looked at him.

"Shut up" and even more smaller. "I will, if you tell me" but you held him, held him without touching him.

"There is nothing to tell",

"then what about Reo"

"what about Reo?" now he looked at you and your eyes was all he needed to know. They were strictly observing yet so calmly holding him.

"Abou-" though before you could further question, he slouched down and-

"I miss soccer" And you kept quiet " I miss having that fun, that excitement" he continued, "Chasing everyone" then mumbling "Playing along side Reo" and then it got more quieter as he talked about the thrill of playing when suddenly slight sniffles were heard in this echoing silence "I.. Can't go back anymore... I have become so damn Miserable.."

You must be a sadist because you've made someone cry whom you never thought would cry. And now you felt even more guilty for thinking that because of course Nagi could cry, he is a human too. shit. Unable to think of anything you placed your hand on his head.

"You did good" you said while ruffling his hair in a gentle manner, "Be proud that it ever happened" Ew ew, cliché movie line, fuck now you wanted to cry out of embarrassment. You tilted his head up and wipe off his tears with your thumb. Even though he wasn't crying much, there still were stray tears flowing. you swear you felt him put his head weight on your hands.

"I.. can't say much due to my lack of knowledge on what or how you fully feel, but I won't push you Nagi. I'm still here" You emphasized the last words, putting weight on them for him to hear in his clouded mind. "I know I can't do much, but I'm still here." You retreated your hands.

You didn't continue and Nagi stayed silent as well. You were thinking of ways to comfort him, to find the right words.

"Thank you" he suddenly blurted out. You paused, quite literally. He didn't continue. DAMN IT, now you feel even more lost for words. He shouldn't thank you, god, you barely used to notice him.. and yet..

"Do you, want to talk about it?"

"No" oh ok awkward, you thought. When suddenly Nagi moved the empty dishes down on the ground, moving beside you and sat between you and the wall, more near to the window, Looking at you while passing you your own phone after turning on his and starting some game.

"Just stay a while longer... Please"

A/n: HELPPP DOES THE ENDING LOOKS RUSHED?, But I just wanted it to be slightly more in character. shit did I make it OOC?, ahh I'm about to cry :c

I'm sorry for disappointing. Since Nagi always fell into the shadows of Reo's popularity, I made reader such too. The reader, like everyone else, saw more Reo and less Nagi and honestly, Nagi also kept his distance with everyone for peace. Which is why I've shown reader struggling to understand Nagi.

Nagi on the other hand is trying to mend things between him and reader. It was something Reo asked him to do before they left for 'Blue Lock'.

also I know I used 'You' a lot but in my defense I didn't want to point it at one gender.

ANYWAYS, I hope you enjoyed this small drabble :3

[theambitiouswoman]

Hi, I hope you're doing good. Can you please help me out? I've kinda stuck with this lazy pattern for 6-7 years now and it's kinda scary to think about it now. Before this lazy era I was a really smart kid, i was literally the school model- smart, popular, pretty. But now it's just hard to be that, my first priority is being independent but I've been so lazy and I hate being that but physically can't move past it. Nothing depressing happened, I just stopped putting effort altogether and now have bad past acads and 22 years old with no job. Please guide me?

It sounds like you are a bit unmotivated. Perfectly normal. I think the best thing you can do is dive into trying different things and figure out exactly where you find joy. Typically, the things we are meant to do are a combination of what we enjoy doing, and what we are good at. But ultimately you are the only person who can push themselves and want more for themselves. Remember that no one can do it for you but you can definitely rediscover your motivation and work towards becoming more independent.

Start by reflecting on what you want to achieve and why. What does being independent mean to you? Is it about having a job, moving out on your own, or perhaps something else? Setting clear, achievable goals can help guide your actions and give you something to strive for.

Once you have a goal, break it down into smaller goals. Large goals can feel overwhelming and may contribute to procrastination. Break your goals down into smaller, manageable tasks. For example, if your goal is to get a job, start by updating your resume, then move on to applying for one job a day.

Create a daily routine can help with laziness by structuring your day and making productivity a habit. Productivity breeds confidence. Start with simple things like setting a specific time to wake up, including time for job searching, skill development, and even breaks and leisure activities.

Sometimes our environment contributes to our lack of motivation. Try to create a space that encourages productivity—keep it organized, limit distractions, and perhaps add elements that boost your mood, like plants or motivational quotes.

Physical activity can boost your energy levels and reduce feelings of laziness. It doesn’t have to be intense; even a daily walk or some sun light stretching can make a difference.

You mentioned being smart, popular, and pretty in school—reflect on what made you successful and happy during those times. What routines or activities were you engaged in? Sometimes, reconnecting with past interests and strengths can reignite your current motivation.

You have the ability to turn things around just as you have succeeded before! 💗

[wonilye]

♫ i can see you x sparks fly | y.jw

as your eternal academic rival, you and jungwon have always been at odds - that is, until he becomes the one person you want to trust your heart with in spite of it all. after all, all’s fair in love and war, no?

read the rest of the series here! (for taglist)

pairing ➭ academic rival jungwon x reader

genre ➭ academic rivals to dubious to lovers, hurt/comfort, academic validation craving, jungwon is reader’s sole comfort

w/c ➭ 5.4k

warnings ➭ slightly suggestive (they’re adults but no nsfw y’all), reader and jungwon both have terrible coping mechanisms for stress, there is a detailed scene where y/n loses her shit in a bathroom, both are academic validation simps, theyre not enemies they just. envy each other and sometimes wanna kiss kiss fall in love, y/n has an inferiority complex and has a tendency to think jungwon’s better than her, she hates herself as much as i hate myself

a/n ➭ to my acad validation peeps…look no further! jungwon and y/n…their ways of coping with themselves are mine. i just split myself in two for them, don’t come for my lonely ass lmao. for more context, look at the bottom a/n!

“done?”

the sun’s beginning to set, its dimming rays beaming through the glass windows of the library. a quick glance at your watch tells you it’s 6.30pm, and that you’ve been studying for the whole day. talk about a productive saturday.

you remove your headphones, glancing over your shoulder. you were planning on staying till the librarian shoos you out. jungwon seems to have other plans, though.

yang jungwon, your rival in just about everything since you were kids. tied with you in every single subject, even PE. he’s everything you are and more – good-looking, funny, and a genius, to top it all off, and he never lets you forget it, what with all the achievements he’s gotten over you. it’s not that he doesn’t work hard and you’re jealous of some natural academic gift he’s got, it’s the fact that you study just as hard as he does, do as much as he does, and yet people will always see him before you. and now, even when you’re at university, he’s still fighting with you for the top spot, for every position available. your circle of friends have remained the same, so like it or not, you’re stuck together.

you begin to stuff your notes into your backpack. “well, i might as well follow you back to the dorms. yunjin’s been lecturing me to stop walking back alone.��� gathering your things, you leave, waving to the librarian as you attempt to put some distance between you and jungwon.

very quickly, jungwon moves beside you so his shoulder is almost pressed up against yours. “you sure took your time. if i hadn’t come to find you, the last bus across campus would’ve come and gone by the time you finished.”

“oh, don’t exaggerate. why’d you come here in the first place, when all you do is complain?” 

you want to say you hate the boyish grin that breaks out across his face, but that would be a lie, and you’ve done way too much lying today to yourself. “what else? i came here for you.”

“ugh, you-!”

“you ears are red, haha.”

your bus pulls into the stop, and in a thoughtless attempt at revenge, you grab his arm and yank him up the steps so he’s even closer to you than before. you don’t miss the way his skin flushes hot.  “now yours are too.” leading him to a seat in the back, you pinch his side. he returns your…affection with a jab in the cheek. 

it’s a game of cat and mouse with jungwon, although neither of you can say for sure who’s chasing and who’s ducking away. whatever this is, it’s safer. 

at least you’re not actually fighting anymore.

here’s the thing: yang jungwon has this journal. every time he’s upset or on the verge of a mental breakdown, he trauma dumps into that journal. it’s the only way he doesn’t cave from the stress, and you and your friends learned very quickly that if that notebook was out, everyone had to leave him alone for at least ten minutes, then he’d be himself again. one day, you’d been studying together when a draft blew the pages of his journal open, straight to the page where he’d written something that was definitely not for your eyes — or anyone’s for that matter. 

“i hate her, so so much i wish she was dead. maybe in a different lifetime, i’ll be better than her, have her beat for once.” you didn’t even need to finish reading what he wrote before you were clawing at his throat, because who else could it be but you?

and it hurt to read it, because what could it mean than yang jungwon was jealous of you? what could it mean that the one person you simultaneously hated and envied, hated you back for all the same reasons? it wasn’t fair that you couldn’t even hate him peacefully.

it only got worse from there, because all it took was a couple minutes of yelling at each other before that ass of a human being decided it was a good idea to tell you it was “three years ago”, and that it shouldn’t matter as much as it did, as if that was supposed to help. and you’d screamed at him, screamed and cried and shoved him and-

his lips were against yours. 

you would’ve pushed him off, but as soon as it came it went, and he’d pulled away faster than you could think. “i don’t hate you,” he’d managed to make out, his voice shaky as he tried and failed to recollect his thoughts. “i just…i can’t hate you. not anymore.”

hell, maybe it was the attention, or some sort of sick stress outlet. you wish it were the latter, because then that would’ve been a hell lot easier. either way, you haven’t spoken about it since then, reason being you’re totally out of your comfort zone when it comes to this guy. plus, he’d taken your first kiss, although he didn’t have to know that. having put your all into your academic life, you haven’t really thought about dating anyone at all. sure, there were a few people whom you’d thought were fairly attractive, but you had never cared to do anything more than that (much less with yang freaking jungwon). your ultimate goal has always been to have jungwon beat. you sort of achieved that, you suppose. the boy’s now a mess when it comes to you. 

since then, you’ve been using each other as stress relief. stupid, really, but with that annoyingly good kiss still hanging between the two of you, you could only keep coming back for more, waiting for lulls in your timetables to meet up. one thing would lead to another, and…well.

“finished your revision yet?” you probe. if he says no, you’ll just drag him off to finish it. but he’s jungwon. if he says he’s gonna do something, he does it. although it’s sort of disappointing if he just parts ways with you, even after he came all this way to find you so far away from the dorms. 

jungwon sighs. “what do you take me for? of course i did, or you’d get mad at me. and i know you’re free for the rest of the day too.” he rummages through his backpack, before handing you a cap and mask. “put these on, i need a big brute to help me buy and carry groceries back to my dorm.”

“and who better than me, huh?”

jungwon grins, waving a matching set in your face. “you’re the multifaceted necessity in my life. my swiss knife, if you please.”

you end up at a mall just a few kilometres away from campus. apparently, he needs laundry pods, vegetables and some sort of microfibre cloth that “can only be blue, mind you.” according to him, if a hand towel doesn’t match his dorm’s colour scheme, the whole world falls apart. 

(for the record, his dorm room does look nice. but no one has to know that you know.)

pushing a shopping cart along the aisles, a bag of spinach catches your eye. “how’s this for vegetables?”

he shakes his head. “lettuce is better for hotpot.”

“since when did you plan on having hotpot?”

“it’s our dinner, y/n.”

“…”

he sighs. “i’m paying for the groceries.”

“well in that case…” you move to grab a few packets of meat from the fridge. “you won’t mind if i add these, will you?”

you don’t miss his odd gaze on you as he pushes the cart towards the checkout counter. “not at all.”

so much for the grocery shopping.

dinner is long forgotten as you find yourself pinned up against the walls of jungwon’s dorm, his grip on your waist oddly comforting. your fingers are tangled in his dark locks, pulling him in deeper, but it’s not enough. it’s never enough.

it feels so, so wrong, to be rendezvousing with him, and maybe he knows it too, because when he finally pulls away, there’s a guilty look on his face. “strike two…?” he grins sheepishly. he’s a little out of breath, and you hate to admit it, but it’s kind of hot. (actually, it’s the fifth time this week, but who’s counting? definitely not you.)

how? you’d maintained the status quo for more than a decade. hell, you two are supposed to loathe each other. knowing yang jungwon has some sort of feelings for you must be messing with your brain. 

jungwon’s lips latch onto your earlobe, fingers trailing down your nape. it’s crazy, the way every brush of his lips sends your head reeling. over his shoulder, you catch a glimpse of his roommate’s neatly folded quilt, and a thought pops into your mind. “when’s sunoo getting back?”

“he just left for a party, he won’t be back for a bit,” jungwon murmurs. sunoo happens to be part of a circle of close friends consisting of yunjin, sunoo and ni-ki (and jungwon, although you could never admit he’s a friend). you’re a close-knit group, withholding no secrets with each other. more often than not, they’ve been caught up in your fights with jungwon, although those haven’t happened in a while, for obvious reasons.

you hum against his lips, fingernails digging crescent-shaped marks into his skin as you try to steady your breathing. “think the water’s boiled by now, get off.” it’s a half-hearted order, and you’re pretty sure jungwon sees through your bullshit. what was it, something about glass houses?

“don’t wanna.”

“jungwon come on-” the sound of a lock in a key slices through the air, jolting you and jungwon apart. panic flares in your chest, and you scramble to shove jungwon far away from you. “hurry up, hurry up.” 

sunoo’s voice drifts past the door. “must’ve left it in here somewhere, don’t know how i could’ve forgotten my id of all things.” the door opens to reveal a sheepish-looking sunoo, flanked by your friends yunjin and riki, who don’t look very pleased. their expressions, however, change the moment they spot you in the corner. “y/n?! what are you doing here?”

one look at the tiny hotpot contraption on the table, paired with the small portions of food is all they need to put two and two together. yunjin frowns, marching past sunoo. “ohh no, you two in the same room alone is a big no from me. by the time we get back, the whole place is gonna look like hell, with all the screaming and fire.” her disapproving glance at you makes you want to shrivel up and die on the spot. 

“we’ll be studying, don’t worry. we never fight when we’re studying,” jungwon shrugs, shooting a discreet glance in your direction, practically screaming help me.

“yeah see the thing is, you shouldn’t even be fighting-”

“yunjin, don’t.” sunoo takes her by the shoulder, dragging her back out the door. “keep our dorm in one piece, please. we’re off!” while yunjin still believes in peace between the two of you, sunoo’s learnt long ago that interfering with your rivalry only makes things worse. not that you don’t feel a little bad about it.

the door slams shut, leaving you and jungwon alone in the room. it’s an uncomfortable silence, the awkwardness of the interruption still lingering.

“y/n, i-”

you hold out your hand. “give me a moment, gosh.” burying your face in your hands, you groan. “that was probably the worst thing ever. we lied in their faces, they’re gonna kill us if they ever find out.”

you suppose it’s your despair that elicits a sound awfully like a snicker from him. some things never change. “did you see the looks on their faces? they’ll never see it coming.” you finally raise your head, watching as jungwon smirks at you with a conspiratorial glint in his eyes. paired with that loose-fitting hoodie of his, and the sweatpants (grey, no less), you’re simultaneously insanely smitten and utterly appalled by said attraction. why’d he have to be so good-looking? he wasn’t this handsome when you were growing up. yang jungwon is going to be the death of you.

it really does take all your efforts not to just shove him onto the couch and claim his lips for yourself again. and then you nearly faint from the prospect of having that thought at all. hastily, you shove a wad of meat into the boiling pot on the table. “we-we should start eating. don’t want the food to turn bad.”

he shrugs, pulling up a chair opposite you. “don’t mind if i do.”

and if you pop open a couple beers afterward, no one has to know.

shit. shit.

days later, you’re at a study cafe with all your friends. you’ve spent the past hour on this topic, and it’s taking everything inside of you not to smash your laptop in half and bash your head into the debris. what the hell is this? you’re not supposed to be bad at this. a glance at jungwon tells you he’s not having nearly as much trouble as you are, and that’s your breaking point.

panic rises in your throat, your lungs, as your vision blurs. words on the screen start to blend, and you think to yourself, you’re a failure again. worthless no matter how hard you try, breaking apart even while trying to hold yourself together. you can feel every tear leave a searing path down your cheeks, nails clawing for skin to carve red lines into. your eyes burn with the buildup of tears, a telltale sign you’re about to lose your shit. in front of jungwon, no less. just great.  

you stand up abruptly, the legs of your chair screeching as they drag across the floor. “bathroom,” you manage to make out, as you dash across the cafe full of people, praying no pne notices. you fling the bathroom door open, turning on the tap at full blast. you don’t realise it, but your fingers are gripping the edges of the sink with an intensity you didn’t think was possible. 

your eyes flutter shut as you try to calm down, focusing on the flow of the water. it’s not working, but the white noise is more soothing than anything right now. that is, until you hear a clicking sound, followed by arms wrapping around you from behind. judging by the shallow breaths, and the mellow scent of baby lotion, it’s exactly who you think it is.

in your rush, you forgot to lock the door. wonderful.

you lean away from jungwon’s embrace, trying to untangle yourself from him, but he stubbornly holds you tighter. “go back, i’m fine.” you don’t even believe yourself, from the way your voice trembles in between gasps.

he hums, and with your back against his chest you can feel the little vibrations as his speaks. “you don’t say.” he doesn’t continue, and in the silence, your mind stays on the warmth of his body against yours. slowly, you let yourself relax into him. it’s funny, how he can be the problem and the cure at the same time. 

you can feel yourself melting in his arms, your breathing evening out with every second that passes. your heartbeat’s finally slowed to a calmer thrumming, no longer pounding in your ears. suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of his soft sweater against your cheek, and the way a thin piece of fabric is the only thing between your skin and his. 

“how do you do it?”

jungwon frowns. “do what?”

“hold up the world and make everything seem fine, when you know it’s not.”

he falls silent, resting his head in the crook of your neck (it’s becoming a habit of his). “well…it’s easy when it’s for someone else.”

“that so?” you muse, peering back up at him. “even for me?”

the way he averts your gaze is insanely cute. “don’t push it.”

but you know he hasn’t lied to you. since you were kids, jungwon’s never been the kind to wear his heart on his sleeve. he holds everything together, holds everyone together. even now, he’s keeping you from falling apart. but what about him? who’s watching him to keep him from losing it all? you know for sure he’s had his fair share of breakdowns, but your stomach churns at the thought that you’ve never witnessed it. not once. being yang jungwon is lonelier than it seems.

once you’re sufficiently calmed down, you untangle yourself from his embrace. “i’ll, um, head back first. you should wait a few minutes before you go back.”

“right.” glancing down at his feet, jungwon nods. “just…you don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

you turn to leave, but a question burns all the way down your throat. 

why? would you take it from my hands and bear it with me?

(and what if you wanted to bear his burdens too?)

true enough, your performance on the latest assignment was more than decent — the highest score in your class, in fact. and as always, jungwon’s not far off. your hard work did pay off. funnily enough, you don’t go to rub it in his face like you always used to do.

it seems you’ve changed.

these days, jungwon seems to linger in your head a lot more. and it’s not just the intimate gestures that stay, but the feeling of his arms around you just won’t disappear. every time you’re about to panic, the mere memory of his gentle touch only serves to ground you back to reality. he’s not even physically here, but you don’t need him to be there for him to be your lifeline. how did things even turn out like this? your greatest rival, also your greatest source of comfort.

today, your friends have made plans to head to an amusement park (read: disneyland. because yunjin’s a disney adult in the best sense of the word). you, jungwon, sunoo, yunjin and riki, along with his girlfriend. the dynamic’s great, really, with everyone carrying the mood well so nothing ever feels boring. you’re able to grab a few rides with them, and eventually the group splits for different attractions, and it’s just you, riki and jungwon, waiting for the others to get back from some quirky river ride. you three didn’t bring spare clothes, so you’ll have to sit this one out. parked under a shady tree, you don’t feel the heat nearly as much, but sweat’s starting to make your shirts cling to your backs.

thirty minutes pass, and there’s still no sign of them. riki’s phone pings. “oh, the ride’s delayed. they’re gonna queue for another forty minutes.”

“forty?”

riki shrugs. “it’s a popular ride.”

you rise to your feet. “okay, i’ll go get us some water. you guys stay put.”

fortunately for you, the shop’s got plenty of water bottles, although the marked-up prices do make your wallet cry a little. what you aren’t prepared for, however, is walking back and spotting riki and jungwon huddled under the tree, deep in conversation. quickly, you press your back up to the other side of the tree trunk, hiding in plain sight.

“…you want relationship advice from me?”

jungwon hums. “well, i can’t very well ask sunoo, not when he’s only just stopped partying away to handle his own breakup.”

“true. we need to find him some better coping mechanisms. though i think he’s back in contact with her on instagram. i swear i saw a notification on his phone the other day with her user and all. that webinar he’s going for next tuesday? think it’s her.”

“oh.” you can hear the wince in jungwon’s voice. “that’s a little…”

riki glares at him. “don't change the subject. shoot.”

he sighs, his lips twisting in concentration. it’s a habit he’s had for a long time, one that you’ve come to notice. “so there’s this girl.”

“uh-huh.”

“i can’t stop thinking about her.”

“uh-huh.”

“but i know she hates me-”

“shit, you like y/n?!” riki yells, slapping jungwon on the back before he can even finish. “of all the billions of people on the planet?”

“how’d you guess?”

“she’s the only one who hates you, buddy. no prizes for guessing who.”

jungwon groans, burying his face in his hands. “i don’t know anymore. she just can’t get out of my head. don’t tell the others, i’m begging you. i’ll never live it down.”

“okay…” riki trails off, and you can imagine how confused he is. “why her though? and why now?”

jungwon’s practically fumbling for an answer, running his hands through his hair (another nervous tic of his). “it’s just…i guess i get her, and she gets me? we understand each other’s problems really well. it’s like looking into a mirror.”

you nearly choke at his words. he gets you, that much is clear. but for him to feel like you know him inside out, that’s a completely different thing altogether. it’s always been a struggle for you to read people. coupled with the fact that jungwon’s the most emotionally intelligent and regulated guy you know, you’ve been worried you’re not giving him enough. 

besides, he’s so much more than you’ll ever be. you, the mentally unstable top student, and jungwon, the other contender for your spot, but with something more: people skills. everyone likes him, everyone wants to be him. the battle’s lost before you can even fight it. he’s a good person, and you’re…nothing like that. people trust him, including you. 

so why would he dare to leave his heart in your hands like that?

it’s not fair. he knows exactly what to do, and you know nothing. he’s dated other girls before, not many but enough to be more experienced than you. how would you know anything, other than to clumsily take his affection with a heap of salt? you’ve failed him. 

oddly enough, riki seems to understand. “i think i catch your wind, but you’ll have to elaborate. what’s the dynamic with her right now?”

“i, uh.” jungwon flounders, his cheeks turning pink, no doubt at the memory of everything you’ve done with him. “th-that’s not…well.” he laughs nervously. “how much can i say before it’s too much info?”

as you watch him with his toothy grin, with those eyes that crinkle in the corners, you know one thing - you absolutely adore him. it’s sudden, but how could you not? he’s everything. much as you hated him, it takes little of your pride to admit he’s been your lifeline for a while now. but you wonder, why would he pick you? for the sole reason that you know him well? that isn’t enough, is it? you may have never understood romance, but you’re guessing this isn’t the usual kind of reason people fall for other people.

besides, there’s nothing special about you.

you end up waiting for the conversation to drift to small talk before joining them back. as always, jungwon’s quick to revert to his usual, teasing self. and despite it all, you find your gaze to be on him the whole time.

it’s dark out when you guys finally make your way back to the dorms. with the others off buying water and snacks for a late-night hangout, you’re left alone with jungwon to head back. he’d conjured up some lie about you leaving some study material in his dorm and needing to grab it before going back to your own, and they seemed to buy it. so here you are, walking along a concrete pavement with the boy you can’t seem to understand, with rain practically beating down your backs. the weather really hates you.

with your path being lit only by the orange glow of the overhead street lamps, and the air filled with nothing but the sound of pouring rain, there’s nothing much you can say. nothing really feels right to say right now, because how do you even begin to address anything in the past month?

jungwon’s grip on the umbrella is tight. you swear it’s leaning slightly towards you. in his other hand is a plastic bag of merch you got from the amusement park, full of junk like headbands and shirts. 

wordlessly, you sneak your pinky into the palm of his hand, hooking your fingers together. there’s an odd sort of intimacy in the little gesture - a silent reassurance that concedes a lot more than you’re usually willing to. to your relief, jungwon doesn’t mention anything about it.

suddenly, his footsteps slow to a halt. he whips out a pair of sparklers from the bag you’d gotten from the amusement park, slipping one into your hands. “quickly, before they come back.” as he fumbles with the lighter, a familiar endearing look of concentration on his face makes you giggle a little. the lighter clicks a few times, and the sparklers come to life.

despite the pouring rain, the sparks of violet flash brightly, illuminating your view of each other. with his face glowing a pretty shade of purple, you can see the ridges in his face, from the dimples in his cheeks to the curve of his mouth. “and why exactly are we lighting fires in a downpour?”

“oh shut up, i’m trying to have a moment with you here.” the retort comes easily, a little too easy, seeing as he slaps his hand over his mouth almost immediately. “you heard nothing.”

“mhm.”

and then he’s wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you walk, the faint crackling filling the silence as you continue on. you can sense jungwon’s gaze on you, so you pinch his arm. “something on your mind?”

he exhales softly, patting your shoulder. “if i say it’s you?”

“then you’re a cheesy bastard. what’s really going on?”

he laughs, but you know there’s something lying under the surface. there always is. (huh, maybe you do know him better.)

“it’s nothing, really. just thinking about…us, i guess.” he pauses. “well, mostly you, if i’m being honest. i don’t really know where to start.”

you shift closer to him under the umbrella, till your cheek is pressed against his arm. “i think i do. your journal?”

“ah.” he grimaces, his laughter a little less nervous. “that much i’m sure you’ve already guessed. i don’t think i ever hated you, y/n. not really. i guess i just got scared that there was someone who saw through me so well.”

“and…are you still scared?”

he shakes head firmly. “no. it’s a good thing, because, well. you feel safe. like a place i can go to and let my guard down. i imagine doing things with you i’d never do with anyone else.”

“not naughty things, i hope,” you joke, but the brilliant red that blooms so bright across his face you can see in the dark is extremely telling. “yang jungwon! get your mind out of the gutter!”

feigning a cough, he looks away, fighting for whatever dignity he’s got left. “my point is, i can’t go on as your rival. i…i need you.” he swallows, and in his eyes there’s a vulnerability you know is saved only for you. “i don’t know why, but knowing you’re the only one who understands me is all i’ll ever need. selfish as it is, i want to keep you here forever, so i don’t have to feel alone again.” he says it all with a conviction that’s so strong it almost scares you. he’s putting all his trust into you. does he not think it’s terrifying, to leave all his sorrows with a person like you?

“are you confessing to me?” you whisper breathlessly. you seriously hope he can hear you over the crashing rainfall. “because i’m not sure if i’m-”

“yes. i’m confessing to you, like right now.”

oh. oh.

but there’s an ache in your chest that swells as you try to meet his glassy eyes. “but if you know me so well, you’ll know that i’m not all that. i’m an emotional wreck who can’t live without her ego, and i’m just…me.” and you’re so much more, more than i’ll ever be.

at this, he stops dead in his tracks, not giving a damn about the fact that the rain’s only getting heavier. “i-okay. what do you think of when you think of me?”

“how is this relevant?”

“just answer the question.”

you lick your dry lips, scouring your brain for a reply that can tell him exactly what you want him to know. “it’s like you can see who i am, like you know exactly what to do to make everything okay again. we’ve been under the same pressure to be good our whole lives, and when you try to make me feel better i can tell you mean it. and it works, and i honestly don’t know how i could possibly live without it, now that i know what it feels like to be loved by you.” if you’d told your younger self that years into the future, you’d get to bare your soul to your greatest rival, she’d probably laugh in your face. but here you are, and it’s comforting to know that he’d never judge you for it.

finally, yang jungwon grins that radiant grin of his, the tip of his sparkler meeting yours. “isn’t that reason enough, then, to keep me here? let’s be selfish for once, you goody-two-shoes.” the soft gaze he has on you has your already-weak resolve crumbling away, and it’s as though a hole’s been filled in your heart. one you didn’t even know existed.

“we’ve been too good our whole lives, haven’t we?”

“all the more a reason to be a little more reckless.”

but you let the sparkler fall to the puddle-strewn pavement as you cup his face in your palms, pressing your forehead to his. “for you? any leap of faith would be worth it.”

and you kiss him, with the force of every unsaid word, every apology and confession of the past eighteen years. as much as you’ve done this before with him, every other time he’s kissed you pales in comparison, because for once you see why you wanted him so badly. why you wanted him to have a piece of your soul. maybe, just maybe, pieces of you are already a part of him, and him of you. fragments of each of your shared pasts had embedded themselves in your hearts long before you’d learnt that the sting was one of longing, and not jealousy alone.

his grip on the umbrella loosens, his palm wraps around your nape, a thumb caressing your jaw in a movement both reverent and yearning. with the umbrella now blown far, far away, you’re completely drenched, but you can’t even bring yourself to care anymore. as his other hand moves to hold your waist, you’re surprised at how naturally it comes. you tug him closer, and it’s both everything you’ve ever wanted, but at the same time never enough. breathing in the lingering scent of his lotion, you decide that this, this is home.

“...what we had was special, you know, and i can’t just let - am i seeing things? oh shit, you guys have to see this, oh my-” sunoo’s voice rings out in the night, and this time you just giggle against jungwon’s lips, not bothering to even look at your rightfully flabbergasted friends. this time, you want them to know.

riki sneers in disgust as he flings your stray umbrella towards you both. “i’d congratulate you, but i’ll be too busy puking in that corner right over there.”

“as if you and your girlfriend aren’t worse,” jungwon teases, catching the umbrella with one hand, the other still on your hip. gosh, that was attractive. 

oh gosh, this guy’s your boyfriend. yang jungwon is your boyfriend.

by now, your friends have caught up with you, and you’ve got a feeling they’re about to circle you like starving vultures for a good story. but you can’t even bring yourself to mind as jungwon takes your hand into his, interlacing your fingers as he reopens the umbrella. “ready to go?”

anytime, if it’s with him. 

a/n ➭ so yall…the promised context. this started off as a secret romance thing where ynwon were more touchy feely (in fact this is the fic that started the whole series lmao). but along the way i decided to use this fic as my projection + built-in jungwon character analysis. tbh the final result of this fic is…very different from what i had in mind at the start, but i’m okay with how it turned out in the end! as always, thanks for reading till the end! if u have the time do reblog/comment so ik what i can improve on haha have a good week! ALSO DID YALL SPOT THE SUNOO X YN CRUMBS

[httpknjoon]

hi, besties 💫

just coming in to say hi haha sorry, i can't really write atm 🥲 requests are close for now. but asks are always open if everyone have something to share haha! i'll be checking in here every now and then. but i guess, i just have to wait for another acad break to have my free time to write again. so much has been happening these last few days... everything's a mess rn 🙃

btw i'm just wondering if anyone here is coming to see hobi live?? especially those who are seeing him here in 🇵🇭?? i wasn't able to get a ticket but i'm thinking of being a volunteer for his two-day concert here since it's right after my midterms haha anyway, lmk if you're attending his shows!! i'm just curious 🤧

anyway, that's all. just a little check up because i'm getting inactive here again... hope everyone is well 🤍 take care always!!!

[magpizza]

Mag's Sapphic Book Recs Part 1

Hey! @fairymascot sent a few of you my way who are looking for some sapphic book recs! I have compiled a list of 50 or so books, both Adult and YA, across the genres I read. These are just my personal favorites, and I encourage you to look further into any book that piques your interest!

For where I go for books, I go to my local library a lot and can't sing the praises of the Libby app enough for borrowing ebooks and audiobooks. I also always encourage those who can to get their books from independent bookstores or sites like bookshop.org.

ADULT

I wanna feel sad or stressed out! -Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead by Emily R. Austin - Gilda is anxious, depressed, and jobless, so she accepts a receptionist job at a catholic church and becomes obsessed with what happened to the woman who had the job before her. A book I felt really deeply as an anxious person myself. -All The Little Moments by G. Benson - Anna's career-focused world is turned upside down when her brother and sister-in-law pass away and she is left to take care of their two young children. This one is a real tearjerker and the romance with the woman Anna meets is very very sweet. I've read almost all of G. Benson's books and found them all to be absolute winners (Purposefully Accidental is excellent, also deals with grief though is more lighthearted and has some of the best dialogue I've ever read). -Landing by Emma Donohue - This is such a lovely, meaty book that explores the complexities of people, as well as the challenges a burgeoning relationship can go through. The MCs face distance, age difference, culture differences, different life goals, etc. The characters around them were also surprisingly deep and interesting. It had me on the edge of my seat as to how it would resolve. -I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself by Marisa Crane - this one is a bit sci fi, but I felt the sad outweighed the sci fi classification. A future world where you are marked by your crimes by being given an extra shadow, a woman has to navigate single motherhood with her daughter having been given an extra shadow from birth. It was somber, it was lovely, I felt so much weight in my heart. -Whisper of Solace by Milena McKay - If you like terrible women doing terrible things to each other in the name of their careers but also obsession and love, this one is for you! One of the most unique Ice Queen POVs I have read!

Okay, I'm sad enough, now I want a happy romance! -Wherever Is Your Heart by Anita Kelly - Even as a lover of romance myself, few books have made me swoon like this one. Two older butch women finding love much later in life and being realistic about their issues and problems, I just absolutely adored the grounded conversations they had. Also a very quick read! -Breaking Character by Lee Winter - This is one of the most enjoyable, fun, heartfelt romances. It's Hollywood, it's fake dating, it's age gap. Both characters go on such a lovely journey together. This is one I would highly encourage you to listen to the audiobook as Angela Dawe is amazing at doing all the character voices and accents. Additionally, there is not a single Lee Winter book I haven't liked, so highly recommend any of hers (The Awkward Truth is my second fave of hers, with a unique and younger ice queen). -The Carlisle Series by Roslyn Sinclair - You honestly can't have a sapphic romance list without this series. It's adapted and updated from Roslyn's Devil Wears Prada fanfic, but this is a story all its own and had me tearing up at the ending. I did the exercise of reading both the books and the fanfic which was very fun to compare! -Something's Different by Quinn Ivins - This is one of the sweetest books, I smiled all the way reading it. A woman has to step in to cover for her twin sister at her job while her sister goes off with her boyfriend, and she ends up falling for her sister's boss. It was a lovely book that also touched on mental health. I also love an academic setting, and it made statistics fun to learn about! -Bright Falls Series by Ashley Herring Blake - This 3 book series is so fun, just true romcom goodness. The characters are fun and interesting, they have complex relationships with each other, and I love how the author sets up these little ways the characters think is truth or reality, only to find how differently they perceived things.

Give me some scary ones! -The Luminous Dead by Caitlin Starling - cave spelunking in a tricked up space suit, being chased by ghosts, and not sure if you can trust the woman on the radio who's guiding you through it. Has just such a satisfying ending too. -The Book Eaters by Sunyi Dean - a vampire-adjacent book, it's a world where these beings eat books, but then sometimes one amongst them instead eats minds. A woman, book eater herself, runs away from her family to protect her son who is a mind eater. I felt this one was gutwrenching at times, with characters making tough and sometimes bad decisions, and it kept a grip on me the whole way. -Into the Drowning Deep by Mira Grant - this one is more of an ensemble cast as it jumps around to several POVs, but the sapphic romance pair in it is great. It follows a crew aboard a ship to figure out what happened to a previous ship where everyone just disappeared. Every character has a rich internal life of why they're there, what are their goals, etc. -Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield - a woman's wife went on a deep sea expedition and returns not quite the same. The book jumps between the two women, what happened on that expedition and what her wife is having to deal with after she returns. I also enjoyed Julia's book of short stories, Salt Slow.

Wow, that was pretty scary. What about some fun science-y adventures? -The Space Between Worlds by Micaiah Johnson - a sci fi, multiverse traveling book. In the future, society can send people to alternate verses, mostly to steal resources, but you can only be sent if the other version of you is already dead in that world. The writing is fast-paced, really fun, and had some great quotes I even wrote down. It had so many little and big twists along the way, I gasped a lot. -The Founders Trilogy by Robert Jackson Bennett - kinda fantasy, kinda sci fi, kinda steam-punky, but a whole lotta fun! Fast-paced, it has one of the most interesting magic systems I've ever read. It's low on romance but the sapphic relationship that develops had my heart clenching by the last book. I read this series this year and already want to re-read it. -This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone - this book is a short but challenging read. It may not be for everyone. Treat it less like a novel and more like a riddle. It's feeding you bits and pieces as it goes and all will be revealed by the end. One of the most romantic books I've read.

Sure sure, but how about some escapism into fantasy now? -The Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir - this one could've also gone in the horror or sci fi lists, what with the lesbian necromancers in space tagline. You've probably heard of it, it's dense, complicated at times, and will throw you for a loop when it quotes Linkin Park lyrics at you. Each book has such a different flavor too. A fun series to not only read but also reread! It requires a lot of attention, and I'm not too proud to admit I had to look up several word meanings as I read. The only series I have multiple versions of because I couldn't resist the special editions. -The Burning Kingdoms series by Tasha Suri - love me some fantasy set in a world inspired by the history and epics of India, some morally gray characters, complicated motivations, some betrayal of the ones you love most. This series is so lovely and such a fun and heartwrenching ride and I can't wait for the next book. -Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree - It's cozy, it's sweet, it just made me smile all the way through. The sequel I found just as lovely as well.

Enough with the other worlds! Got anything historical? -The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave - this one could also go on the sad list. It's poetic, lovely. A town of only women since their men all were lost in a storm and how the women manage to move on, deal with their grief, and face a dude who comes in later to try to "set their society right" or whatever. Throw that dude into the sea too. -Fingersmith by Sarah Waters - an absolute rollercoaster of a book. It's a long, great read with deception upon deception upon twists. I also highly recommend the BBC miniseries it was adapted into! -The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite - this one really surprised me. It's honestly really sweet. Two women come together to translate a French astronomy text and fall in love in the process.

Got anything with pictures? -Luisa Now and Then by Carole Maurel - drama, a woman in her 30s encounters her much younger self and they have to come to terms with who they thought they were and what they thought their life would be like. -A Guest in the House by Emily Carroll - heavy on the horror, not really a romance, but it is gorgeous, atmospheric, and didn't go where I thought it was going. -How Do We Relationship by Tamifull - drama, slice of life, one of my favorite series, it goes through some really complex character relationships and interactions. The main couple starts dating pretty quickly, and it only gets more complicated from there. -She Loves to Cook, She Loves to Eat by Sakaomi Yuzaki - slice of life. This one starts out simply enough, with two women who connect over food. Their relationship blooms slowly from there, and the latest volume introduced some additional characters that expand the discussion on how different our relationship to food and eating can be.

YOUNG ADULT

That was a lot. I'm ready to be sad again. -We Are Okay by Nina LaCour - a girl leaves everyone behind to go to college, and won't talk to them about why or what happened that changed her in those few weeks before she left. Her best friend comes to visit her and what follows is a slow, anguishing tale of grief, regret, and love. Honestly, for a sad time, you can always depend on Nina LaCour. -Forget Me Not by Alyson Derrick - this one might not work for everyone if you don't like an amnesia story. It had so much longing, loss, confusion, and a romance strong enough to attempt to get through it. -6 Times We Almost Kissed (and One Time We Did) by Tess Sharpe - Don't let the meme-rific title fool you, this book wrung out my heart. The characters are rich, deep, conflicted, and complicated. Deals with grief, with lost opportunities, with complicated friendships and complicated love. -If Tomorrow Doesn't Come by Jen St. Jude - what happens if you were already suicidal, but then the world is going to end soon anyway? This book deals heavily with depression and the end of the world, in many different meanings. -Clap When You Land by Elizabeth Acevedo - this one broke my heart a few times. Two girls who don't know they are related lose their father in a plane crash, and it only gets sadder and more complicated from there as both their words begin to connect.

Wow, all this sadness has made me angry! -Harley Quinn: Reckoning by Rachael Allen - gotta love a female rage revenge book. This book is a really engrossing read, it weaves a lovely mystery, and has one of my all time favorite twists and love interest characters of any book.

I've angered myself out, can we have some happy romance? -She Gets the Girl by Rachael Lippincott and Alyson Derrick - a lovely lovely contemporary romance story. Nothing surprising, just all the good stuff. Also writen by a wife team! -How to Excavate a Heart by Jake Maia Arlow - a very sweet holiday romance that starts when one of the MCs almost runs over her love interest. -Lesbiana's Guide to Catholic School by Sonora Reyes - with the topics this one deals with, it could've very easily made the sad list as well. The overall uplifting ending is what kept it more in the happy list for me.

Okay, okay, I'm ready to be scared again! -These Fleeting Shadows by Kate Alice Marshall - this one has it all, creepy house, family trauma, falling for the weird girl in the woods. It all built up to a really great twist too. I recommend the audiobook, it had great production and acting, and even legit scared me and I couldn't listen to it at night.

I like horror, but got anything a little more sci fi? -The Meadows by Stephanie Oaks - along the same lines of A Handmaid's Tale, a dystopian future where the government has a lot to say about what your role is in society and what you are supposed to do/be. At times a little slow, but at all times really heartwrenching.

Anything related to history? -A Million to One by Adiba Jaigirdar - four girls band together to execute a jewel heist on the titanic! Which sounds very exciting and it is! I also bawled at the end. Honestly I will read any and all Adiba Jaigirda books too.

Okay let's get into that fantastical escapism! -Fractured Fables series by Alix E. Harrow - based on fairytales, these two novelas are very quick reads, very engaging and I especially loved the romance that developed in the second one! -We Set the Dark on Fire series by Tehlor Kay Mejia - Handmaids Tale adjacent as well and the backdrop is Latiné inspired. A really great read, both books had be gripped by the chest. Good twists too! -The Winter Duke by Claire Eliza Bartlett - inspired by sleeping beauty, the prince set to inherit the throne falls asleep and his younger sister has to figure out how the hell she keeps it all together until he (hopefully) wakes up. -Cinderella Is Dead by Kalynn Bayron - a society built after the very real Cinderella story, where all ladies of age go to the ball to be selected as brides, and then the story of a girl trying to fight against all that. -Forgotten Gods series by Marie Rutkoski - A girl who lives on the poor side of town meets a rich girl who seems ready to take her on adventures. I really enjoyed the main character's journey and how she changed oh so very drastically throughout the story. -Of Fire and Stars by Audrey Coulthurst - I've recced this to friends who did not like it as much as I did but I'm still putting it on this list. Maybe it's just this book has all the things I like and that's fine. A princess betrothed to a prince is hiding her magical abilities and ends up falling for her fiance's sister, oops. -Sofi and the Bone Song by Adrienne Tooley - what drew me to this story was the quiet mystery it weaves. Sofi wants to take her father's place as a Musik (the few musicians in the country allowed to compose music) but then an unexpected, untrained lute player shows up and just absolutely outplays her. Sofi is determined to prove this new girl cheated with magic. Adrienne Tooley overall is an author I always enjoy. -Nampeshiweisit series by Moniquill Blackgoose - only the first book is out so far (To Shape a Dragon's Breath) but boy am I invested! A young girl finds the first dragon egg to appear in her remote island in 15 years, but the colonists of her land have strong opinions of who is allowed to have a dragon, how they need to be trained, and what they should do with dragons.

Phew that was a lot of words. Got anything with pictures again? -Thieves by Lucie Bryon - a really sweet and surprisingly deep story about two girls who steal shit. -Belle of the Ball by Mari Costa - a high school love triangle that worked in all the right ways. I loved the art, and as someone with vision deterioration, one of the easiest reads I've had recently! -Twelfth Grade Night by Molly Horton Booth - the original Shakespeare play Twelfth Night was formative for my lesbian realization, and this cute adaptation was so well done and modernized the story in a really fun and fantastical way. -The Princess and the Grilled Cheese Sandwich by Deya Muniz - continues the running theme of girl pretending to be a boy falls for girl, oops. Has a historical and modern twist to it all, very fun and loved the expressions. Do Not skip the author's notes at the end where she talks about what inspired the story, it was a highlight as well! -Squad by Maggie Tokuda-Hall - Mean Girls meets werewolves -Cosmoknights series by Hannah Templer - princesses, space travel, giant robot fights, this has got it all and some very lovely art to boot! -Honor Girl: A Graphic Memoir by Maggie Thrash - one of those comics that perfectly captures what it feels like to be a young girl falling in love with another girl for the first time. It's a little bit emotionally devastating at times in how expertly it expresses and pinpoints those specific feelings.

Part 2 (Books read in 2024)

[rhonissancee]

Gonna announce it here cuz— It feels safer to retreat back here than my main BWHABHEA. but hi hello guys TT it is I again, the fake hiatus-er. Honestly hiatuses should FEAR ME. I AM NOT SURE IF ILL ACTUALLY TAKE A BREAK FROM EVERYTHING RN (I love interacting with you all + this is my third post announcing some sort of break that I won't be able to keep for that long) + but I might. Possibly. Be. On. A. Hiatus? Saying the word has no effect really HSKSHDJS.

Idk I've been feeling very shiity as of late (is this tmi- I'm so sorry help) + which is very ironic considering that I'm always happy to respond to everyone (y'all make me happy is all) + but like life has been draining, and acads, and everything is overwhelming, and there are times where it's just lonely and depressive. SO. INSTEAD OF FOCUSING ON ALL THAT CRAP I'VE DECIDED TO USE THAT ENERGY AND FOCUS IT ON MY STUDIES INSTEAD- (yay) + which means- locking in- which also means- occasionally lurking here but also taking a break from forking everything to just clear my mind. Maybe it's the end of the sem blues that's making me feel this way- idk TT.. I will be back, probably with more drawings and doodles for all my lovely dovely moots (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡ but for now I have to kick this seasonal depression in the butt because i hate feeling this way so much. CEE YOU GUYS (BUT DON'T EXPECT MUCH FROM ME. MY RESOLVE IS NOT STRONG.)

[the-kr8tor]

Katy!!! hey? I miss our interactions, i've gotten so busy with acads i barely was able to check up with your new works. But now that i have, as expected, you cooked so well, and as always.♥

I'm just here to deliver that the semester is finally over, and i can at last rest in peace for our summer break, which means i can go back to loitering in tumblr and get smitten all over hobie again from your works. jumping noises

How are you, anyway?

OMG hi my love!! I missed you too!! Oh yeah it's exams seasons 😭 thank fuck i already graduated 😂 awww thank you so much!! How are you? I hope your vacation is starting off good 😊

Ooohh any plans to go to the beach? We were supposed to go but my dad prefers the damn mountains 😭

Hell yea let's gooo!!! I'm good! Just about to have a final read through of the co-worker au before I post it!! (I'm excited)