hoonigiris

[hoonigiris]

[hoonigiris]

yearning pathetic men. you understand me ❤️‍🩹

ON TOPPPPPP!!!!!🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

[hoonigiris]

PUMPKIN SPICE & EVERYTHING NICE

s. jaeyun x reader

0.95k

love, rosie au...-esque! original request here

light streams through the shutters, evening sun warming your room in a slow, steady drawl of golden hour. jake lays on the side of your twin bed, crammed alongside you as he balances precariously near the edge of the mattress.

it smells like you—the pillow, the blanket, the room. all warm and familiar and so full of home he just wants to close his eyes and fall asleep like when you were kids. the scent of cinnamon drifts into the room, and jake knows your mom is probably making her pumpkin spice cookies downstairs, the way she always does when the weather starts getting chilly. jake wonders if he can steal a freshly baked one before he goes home tonight, just like he used to.

but he supposes it's not like how it was before. maybe it can never be the same.

"i broke up with minju."

the word strikes a fracture in the air, your body stiffening slightly beside his before you relax, voice taking on a casual lilt he can tell is masking something beneath. “oh, really? why?”

"it just..." jake pauses. "didn't work."

"oh." short, concise, maybe a little hurt. and then, timidly, "sorry to hear that."

he shakes his head, pillow rustling. "don't be. not your fault."

"you just really seemed to like her a lot."

he shrugs, biting back his words. "yeah."

"you know," you start, almost timidly. "i almost thought you hated me, or something."

"what?" jake's head turns to you on instinct, swift motion that leads his nose to almost brush against yours. his breath hitches, a split second of smelling the leftover peppermint on your breath, before he turns back again, ironing out his cracking voice. "what makes you say that?"

"i don't know, you just..." you trail off. "we just stopped hanging out. like you were avoiding me."

you try to make it lighthearted, but the hurt peeks through enough for the pang in jake's chest to shoot into his throat. he swallows hard, eyes pinned on the leftover glow-in-the-dark stars still stuck on the ceiling.

“that’s not…” jake manages, but the rest of words lump up and lodge in his throat. he can’t lie to you. “it’s complicated.”

a pause. "is it?"

he hesitates, blinking. the peppermint still lingers. "yeah."

jake hopes you'll just leave it at that and not press him further, because if he were being honest then he'd say yes, he has been avoiding you. that's the partial truth, at least.

the whole truth is that he can't look at you the same after the night of your 18th birthday, not after you had three tequila shots too many and blacked out for the rest of the night. not after he can still taste the feeling of your lips on his, even months since that night has passed.

jake likes you—he's admitted that to himself for a while now. in fact, he may even be in love with you, but that seems way too big and scary of a concept for a guy his age to even wrap his head around. at the very least, like or not, in love or not, jake knows he loves you. he has for as long as he can remember, as his twin flame, as his best friend, as just who you are wholly, as a person.

but he knows you best, which means that there's no way in hell he can tell you that he started dating minju to distract himself from a kiss you don't even remember and feelings he's fairly sure you don't even return. jake can't even tell you that minju is the one that dumped him, because the truth would come tumbling out that the reason she did was because she was sick and tired of him never being able to shut up about you.

(when minju broke it off, she said she was setting him free. "untethered to follow his heart," or whatever that means. she probably thought she was doing a good deed, considering the wise look she gave him when she left his house, but it really just set him back to square one. without anyone stopping him, jake would always find himself coming back to you.)

it's not like he's proud of his bout of ghosting, but at the time, it was the only thing he felt like he could do to get his newfound feelings under control. he's better at it now, more practiced. jake is happy to shove his feelings underneath the rug and continue like everything is normal if it means things will continue like they always have been.

it's fine. it'll all be fine. as long as he doesn't lose you, it'll all be okay.

jake peers to his side, catching a glimpse of your face. brows scrunched, lips set in a slight frown, body slightly turned away from him. his fault, admittedly. jake pushes aside the slight guilt and pokes your side, watching you squirm and yelp.

the best solution to avoidance is distraction—jake's tried and true method.

"do you think your mom will let us have a cookie before dinner?"

you drag yourself up, hair mussed from the pillow as you look down at him. "when has she ever?"

sunlight tinges your hair warm, the dust particles floating between the streams of light through the window. there's a pillow mark on your face that draws the corners of his lips up before he can stop himself.

tried and true, jake repeats to himself. tried and true.

"how long do you think it'll take her to notice two are missing?"

you hum, tilting your head. "only one way to find out."

he grins, sitting up beside you. "then let's find out."

[hoonigiris]

wishing you the merriest (teaser)

pairing: l. heeseung x f!reader

wc: 1.3k out of ~13k

summary: between handling all the incoming holiday orders from your bakery, warding off your best friend's attempts at matchmaking, and actively avoiding the ex you're stuck living with for another six months, christmas is the least of your worries. that is, until heeseung's parents come into town. million dollar question: what's worse than having your ex's parents stay with you? answer: having your ex's parents stay with you, not knowing that you two have already broken up.

notes: hallmark movie coded, exes-to-lovers, fake dating au, sorta angst, mostly not! ok, so you got me. it is in fact NOT christmas anymore (it's not even december anymore) but hopefully this fic revitalizes your leftover holiday spirit. everyone knows that christmas starts after thanksgiving and ends in february!!! send me an ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

So maybe Sunoo was right. Maybe you can’t avoid Heeseung forever.

If there was one thing you hated, it was hearing the taunting ‘I told you so’ echoing in the back of your mind. Unfortunately for you, that is the only thing running through your head as you stand at the doorway of your room, face-to-face with Lee Heeseung. Ex of your nightmares, ground zero of your many woes.

“Hi.��� He has the decency to look embarrassed, at least.

You blink. “Hey…?”

You stare at each other for a few seconds longer. You shift your weight from one leg to the other, hand still on the doorknob. Tuna, your cat, looks at the scene from behind, curious.

Maybe you should end this now, as to not further confuse the children through the divorce. Or whatever they say. (‘No,’ you picture yourself saying to Tuna through a sack of catnip, ‘Mommy and Daddy are not getting back together.’)

“Do you… need something?” you try civilly. Whatever it was, surely it could have been communicated through a note stuck on the fridge or something. To not confuse the kids, you repeat to yourself. And to not confuse me.

You can’t even remember the last time you talked. Probably around the time he was moving all his stuff from your shared bedroom to his office. Hell, you can’t even remember the last time you saw each other in the same vicinity, considering you were always at work, and Heeseung was always either in his office or at the university or something. Never here. Never where you could see him.

“I, um,” Heeseung starts awkwardly, shifting back and forth. His eyes drift everywhere around him, maybe to find what to say, but eventually he seems to make up his mind. “…How are you?”

“Seriously?”

It comes out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, a bit harsher than if you would have said intentionally. He cringes at the rebuke (Heeseung 2-0 for self-awareness, at least), hurrying to apologize.

“Hi, I know, sorry. I didn’t know what to say.”

“Heeseung,” you say, not unkindly. it’s rather plain, the way you say his name now. “Why are you talking to me?”

What could you possibly want after five months of not speaking to each other? You’re surprised he’s even home at this hour, considering he always got back from work late at night. You always made sure to get all your stuff done in the shared space before he returned home, to avoid—well, to avoid whatever this is.

Heeseung pinches his nose and sighs deeply. “Ok well, there’s no easy way to say this, but…” Like ripping off a bandaid. “Remember my mom?” 

What kind of fucking bandaid— “Of course I remember your mom.”

“Great. Well,” Heeseung continues, sheepish at the poor buildup. “She may or may not have heard that my grad program gives us a holiday break, and it just so happens that this year is the first year that my parents aren’t going on a fancy Europe trip during the holidays.”

You nod slowly.

“And, well, the reason they’re not is because—okay, do you remember my grandma?”

“Heeseung.”

“Sorry, okay. Long story short.” He takes in a deep breath and says everything else in one breath. “It’s my grandma’s 100th birthday this year and you know she’s a Christmas baby so we always celebrate her birthday and Christmas together, and you know, it’s her 100th, haha, and she lives close by, sorta, so—”

“Heeseung.”

“My parents want to crash at our place until New Years.”

“Okay...” You could work with that, ex-almost-in-law awkwardness aside. Definitely something he could have brought up through post-it, but you appreciate the transparency. “That’s fine. I mean, you’re probably going to have to sleep on the couch if they take your room, but that’s up to you guys—”

“They don’t know we broke up.”

Pin drop silence. You churn the words carefully in your head, Sunoo’s background loopings of ‘I told you so’ slowly getting replaced with ‘They don’t know we broke up—they don’t know we broke up—they don’t know we broke up—they—’

“What?!”

Tuna startles at the loud noise, ears flattening, eyes darting from you to Heeseung to you again. Mommy—Daddy—Mommy—Daddy. so much for not confusing the kids.

“I just—” Heeseung’s embarrassed. He should be, considering the fact that he’s been lying to his parents for the past five months, or at the very least, omitting the truth. The very important, crucial truth. “I meant to.”

“Tell them,” you insist. Heeseung falters. “Tell them before they book the plane.”

And then Heeseung presses his lips together, and shakes his head. “I can’t.”

You would have flung your hands into your hair and started pulling at the strands if you weren’t such a calm, collected, and mature individual. So you start pacing.

“Ok, fine, so they already booked the plane. Tell them now, so they know what kind of mess they’re about to walk into.” Heeseung looks a little offended at the description, but at least he knows better to keep his mouth shut. You pace a few more rounds, before you turn to him. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Y/N, i can’t.”

You swing your head at him with wide, wild eyes. “And why the hell not?!”

Heeseung winces, and says weakly, “My mom really likes you.”

You gape at him.

“Listen,” Heeseung stresses (as if he has any right to be stressed, that filthy liar). “I was going to tell them, okay? I don’t like lying to them any more than you do, but what was i supposed to say? ‘Hey Mom, long time no talk! My girlfriend of five years broke up with me but oh, by the way, we’re still living together for another seven months. Love you too!’” 

Well, when he puts it like that.

You did exactly that, but your parents did give you a disappointed speech, and your mom never fails to give you a reproachful glance or two every time she’s reminded of your living situation, so maybe Heeseung was onto something.

“And you know my mom,” Heeseung adds. “She…”

“Would not take it well,” you finish, morosely. There wouldn’t be screaming, but there would be crying. Lots and lots of crying. and you liked his mom—you didn’t want to see her cry, or else you’d be like—you don’t know—the most evil ex-almost-in-law in history. The ex that ruined christmas.

You cannot be the ex that ruined christmas.

“Fine,” you grit out eventually, the ultimate seal in ending your peaceful solitude. “I’ll play nice and pretend to be…” you gesture vaguely, “ …with you…again.”

Heeseung sighs, so very relieved. He almost moves forward to give you a hug, or clasp you on the shoulder, or something, but he decides against it, arms falling awkwardly at his sides. You watch it linger, and you don’t know whether to be grateful or strangely disappointed. “Thank you,” he says, still, even without the proximity. “Really, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave off, smiling thin. “I like your parents anyway, it’ll be good to see them again. We can talk details later.”

Heeseung shoots you another smile, leans down to scratch Tuna behind the ears, and walks away. Finally.

You look down at Tuna, gazing up at you with large pupils that fiend for more Churu. It isn’t the first time the thought ‘oh, to be a cat’ has crossed your mind recently, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Tuna pads up to you, purring and rubbing his face against your leg. Distantly, the thought ‘oh, to be a cat with divorced parents that have to pretend to not be divorced anymore’ appears in your head, and it sounds infinitely less appealing. It seems like no one in this household is winning this month.

“Oh Tuna,” you sigh, squatting down to meet him at eye level. “What the hell did I just get myself into?”

[hoonigiris]

none of my tags working. Watching batman begins to stop myself from actually crashing out.

[hoonigiris]

NOTHING IS WORKING im actually at my last straw

[hoonigiris]

hello....

[hoonigiris]

i'm getting nerfed so bad rn omg.

[hoonigiris]

helpp..... none of my posts are showing up in any of my tags. Should i die. i tried on my main blog and my other sideblogs too nothing works....

[hoonigiris]

wishing you the merriest (teaser)

pairing: l. heeseung x f!reader

wc: 1.3k out of ~13k

summary: between handling all the incoming holiday orders from your bakery, warding off your best friend's attempts at matchmaking, and actively avoiding the ex you're stuck living with for another six months, christmas is the least of your worries. that is, until heeseung's parents come into town. million dollar question: what's worse than having your ex's parents stay with you? answer: having your ex's parents stay with you, not knowing that you two have already broken up.

notes: hallmark movie coded, exes-to-lovers, fake dating au, sorta angst, mostly not! ok, so you got me. it is in fact NOT christmas anymore (it's not even december anymore) but hopefully this fic revitalizes your leftover holiday spirit. everyone knows that christmas starts after thanksgiving and ends in february!!! send me an ask if you want to be added to the taglist!

So maybe Sunoo was right. Maybe you can’t avoid Heeseung forever.

If there was one thing you hated, it was hearing the taunting ‘I told you so’ echoing in the back of your mind. Unfortunately for you, that is the only thing running through your head as you stand at the doorway of your room, face-to-face with Lee Heeseung. Ex of your nightmares, ground zero of your many woes.

“Hi.” He has the decency to look embarrassed, at least.

You blink. “Hey…?”

You stare at each other for a few seconds longer. You shift your weight from one leg to the other, hand still on the doorknob. Tuna, your cat, looks at the scene from behind, curious.

Maybe you should end this now, as to not further confuse the children through the divorce. Or whatever they say. (‘No,’ you picture yourself saying to Tuna through a sack of catnip, ‘Mommy and Daddy are not getting back together.’)

“Do you… need something?” you try civilly. Whatever it was, surely it could have been communicated through a note stuck on the fridge or something. To not confuse the kids, you repeat to yourself. And to not confuse me.

You can’t even remember the last time you talked. Probably around the time he was moving all his stuff from your shared bedroom to his office. Hell, you can’t even remember the last time you saw each other in the same vicinity, considering you were always at work, and Heeseung was always either in his office or at the university or something. Never here. Never where you could see him.

“I, um,” Heeseung starts awkwardly, shifting back and forth. His eyes drift everywhere around him, maybe to find what to say, but eventually he seems to make up his mind. “…How are you?”

“Seriously?”

It comes out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, a bit harsher than if you would have said intentionally. He cringes at the rebuke (Heeseung 2-0 for self-awareness, at least), hurrying to apologize.

“Hi, I know, sorry. I didn’t know what to say.”

“Heeseung,” you say, not unkindly. it’s rather plain, the way you say his name now. “Why are you talking to me?”

What could you possibly want after five months of not speaking to each other? You’re surprised he’s even home at this hour, considering he always got back from work late at night. You always made sure to get all your stuff done in the shared space before he returned home, to avoid—well, to avoid whatever this is.

Heeseung pinches his nose and sighs deeply. “Ok well, there’s no easy way to say this, but…” Like ripping off a bandaid. “Remember my mom?” 

What kind of fucking bandaid— “Of course I remember your mom.”

“Great. Well,” Heeseung continues, sheepish at the poor buildup. “She may or may not have heard that my grad program gives us a holiday break, and it just so happens that this year is the first year that my parents aren’t going on a fancy Europe trip during the holidays.”

You nod slowly.

“And, well, the reason they’re not is because—okay, do you remember my grandma?”

“Heeseung.”

“Sorry, okay. Long story short.” He takes in a deep breath and says everything else in one breath. “It’s my grandma’s 100th birthday this year and you know she’s a Christmas baby so we always celebrate her birthday and Christmas together, and you know, it’s her 100th, haha, and she lives close by, sorta, so—”

“Heeseung.”

“My parents want to crash at our place until New Years.”

“Okay...” You could work with that, ex-almost-in-law awkwardness aside. Definitely something he could have brought up through post-it, but you appreciate the transparency. “That’s fine. I mean, you’re probably going to have to sleep on the couch if they take your room, but that’s up to you guys—”

“They don’t know we broke up.”

Pin drop silence. You churn the words carefully in your head, Sunoo’s background loopings of ‘I told you so’ slowly getting replaced with ‘They don’t know we broke up—they don’t know we broke up—they don’t know we broke up—they—’

“What?!”

Tuna startles at the loud noise, ears flattening, eyes darting from you to Heeseung to you again. Mommy—Daddy—Mommy—Daddy. so much for not confusing the kids.

“I just—” Heeseung’s embarrassed. He should be, considering the fact that he’s been lying to his parents for the past five months, or at the very least, omitting the truth. The very important, crucial truth. “I meant to.”

“Tell them,” you insist. Heeseung falters. “Tell them before they book the plane.”

And then Heeseung presses his lips together, and shakes his head. “I can’t.”

You would have flung your hands into your hair and started pulling at the strands if you weren’t such a calm, collected, and mature individual. So you start pacing.

“Ok, fine, so they already booked the plane. Tell them now, so they know what kind of mess they’re about to walk into.” Heeseung looks a little offended at the description, but at least he knows better to keep his mouth shut. You pace a few more rounds, before you turn to him. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Y/N, i can’t.”

You swing your head at him with wide, wild eyes. “And why the hell not?!”

Heeseung winces, and says weakly, “My mom really likes you.”

You gape at him.

“Listen,” Heeseung stresses (as if he has any right to be stressed, that filthy liar). “I was going to tell them, okay? I don’t like lying to them any more than you do, but what was i supposed to say? ‘Hey Mom, long time no talk! My girlfriend of five years broke up with me but oh, by the way, we’re still living together for another seven months. Love you too!’” 

Well, when he puts it like that.

You did exactly that, but your parents did give you a disappointed speech, and your mom never fails to give you a reproachful glance or two every time she’s reminded of your living situation, so maybe Heeseung was onto something.

“And you know my mom,” Heeseung adds. “She…”

“Would not take it well,” you finish, morosely. There wouldn’t be screaming, but there would be crying. Lots and lots of crying. and you liked his mom—you didn’t want to see her cry, or else you’d be like—you don’t know—the most evil ex-almost-in-law in history. The ex that ruined christmas.

You cannot be the ex that ruined christmas.

“Fine,” you grit out eventually, the ultimate seal in ending your peaceful solitude. “I’ll play nice and pretend to be…” you gesture vaguely, “ …with you…again.”

Heeseung sighs, so very relieved. He almost moves forward to give you a hug, or clasp you on the shoulder, or something, but he decides against it, arms falling awkwardly at his sides. You watch it linger, and you don’t know whether to be grateful or strangely disappointed. “Thank you,” he says, still, even without the proximity. “Really, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave off, smiling thin. “I like your parents anyway, it’ll be good to see them again. We can talk details later.”

Heeseung shoots you another smile, leans down to scratch Tuna behind the ears, and walks away. Finally.

You look down at Tuna, gazing up at you with large pupils that fiend for more Churu. It isn’t the first time the thought ‘oh, to be a cat’ has crossed your mind recently, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Tuna pads up to you, purring and rubbing his face against your leg. Distantly, the thought ‘oh, to be a cat with divorced parents that have to pretend to not be divorced anymore’ appears in your head, and it sounds infinitely less appealing. It seems like no one in this household is winning this month.

“Oh Tuna,” you sigh, squatting down to meet him at eye level. “What the hell did I just get myself into?”

[hoonigiris]

[ENHYPEN] Das 🐶

[hoonigiris]

[2:23AM]

s. jaeyun x reader

0.5k

oh man here hoonigiris go again... if u know where this is originally from props 2 u! cw: suggestive

"you're pretty, you know that?"

a small noise sounds from the back of jake's throat, something akin to a protest all caught and tangled into a whine. his adam's apple bobs slightly at the touch of your finger on his neck.

"what," you prod, teasing. "you don't agree?"

slowly, your palm lies flush to his skin, fingers curling around his throat. his breath catches.

you're waiting for it, the switch you've been coaxing out of him this entire time. his eyes flicker in the silence, chest rising and falling, watching for your next move; some days it was easier than others, days where jake builds his walls a little more purposefully, stubbornly, but the anticipation is half the fun, you suppose.

you wonder what will cause it this time, twisted heat pooling in your core at the thought. perhaps the warmth of your breath on the pulse of his neck will make him break, the slightest adjustment of your body slotted against his, or maybe even—you tighten your grip just slightly, and ah—there it is.

almost immediately, jake's eyes go fuzzy, mouth gaping open, the silent way where you know the added pressure on old bruises dappling his skin hurts a little. the way where you know he likes it like that. he puffs out a quiet gasp, hand at your hip going limp and falling to his side, and you truly think this is your favorite part of the game: the prize.

his walls crumbling to pieces onto the mattress, all dirtied in sweat and sin, the jake he prides himself so strongly vanishes, leaving only jaeyun in its wake. the jaeyun that begs for even the tiniest amount of your attention, laps almost pathetically at the slightest taste of you, the jaeyun that all but melts into putty in your hands.

you mouth at the spot between his jawline and ear, thighs tightening around his waist. "i think you're the prettiest, jaeyun. but you know that already."

"please," jake—jaeyun— breathes.

"'please' what?" you ask, fingernail trailing down the hollow of his neck to his chest, down, down, down.

jaeyun says your name like a prayer, breathy and small and pleading with desire. "please, i need you." his voice hitches when you start trailing upwards again from his abdomen.

and if you were feeling cruel today, you'd press him even further, make him beg and grovel before you started to indulge in his wants. the image of jaeyun with teary eyes and pure desperation almost tempts you to follow through, but your own growing desire stops you before it goes too far.

still, you want to have fun before the game comes to an end. you hum in deep thought, playfully distant as you grind your hips against his, a strangled moan finding its way past his lips. his hips jerk up once before stilling at the nails digging into his skin.

how obedient, you almost coo.

"maybe," you say in response, and his eyes widen before you place a hand on his abdomen, eyeing him in warning. patience. your hand trails lower again, a smile ghosting on your lips as your hand comes to rest on his waistband. "only because you've been so good for me."

[hoonigiris]

heeseung + literature TA pls....... ily

hello.... i come bearing gifts more than 3 months late but at least she is Here....

[hoonigiris]

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT

l. heeseung x reader

1.2k

chat, what do you do when you accidentally sleep with your TA that you didn't know was your TA? asking for a friend.

fuck my life.

it's the only thought you've had in the last two hours, maybe even three, if you count the expletives that flew out of your mouth this morning when you woke up to an alarm clock blaring the wrong set of numbers at you.

the clock on the wall ticks with each bounce of your knee. you swallow hard, palms clammy, eyes darting to anything that isn't the man sat at the desk in front of you. it's like some kind of sick joke—maybe even cruel and unusual punishment—to be sat in this chair with too-soft cushioning in deafening silence as you wait for someone to say something.

(not you though. you think you've done enough to last a lifetime.)

if there was one thing you liked about your major, it's that everything was predictable. the same classmates sat next to you, the same bespectacled old professors teaching at the front of the classroom, the same books lining the shelves of every office you enter. until today, that is.

predictable my ass. you distantly wonder if it's too late to switch to another major in the last semester of your senior year. maybe even switch schools.

objectively speaking, heeseung looks downright sinful: perfectly mussed hair, forearms exposed, thin-wired glasses drooping a little on his nose. your eyes catch onto the bit of skin left bare from where he's kept his shirt unbuttoned. you almost can't help yourself, trailing your eyes down, down, down—you blink hard. maybe you need holy water.

he hums in thought, drawing his thumb up to his lip to lick and flip to another page in the packet, and you let out a small, strangled sound. like a shark to blood in water, his eyes flit to you through his glasses, an eyebrow raised.

are you okay? you're pretty sure he asks, but it all comes muffled in your ears when all you can think of is how that's the same exact look he gave you a few nights ago. back when he was just some guy at the bar who offered to buy you a drink, someone that was nice enough and, most importantly, hot enough, to help you forget about the fact it was holiday season and you were freshly alone.

(at the time, you had told yourself that it didn't matter that you hadn't flirted with anyone since your break up with your long-term ex—you'd never learn if you didn't try. at least that's what you had told yourself when you went up to the mystery man you'd been exchanging glances with all night.

hi, he'd said, tilting his head. i'm heeseung.

dark eyes, messy hair, kissable lips, it was exactly what you needed to get off your training wheels again. pulling out the stool next to him, you sat close enough to ignore the way your head spun a little at the sudden movement.

you definitely downed your drinks too fast after your friends left you alone, but you pushed the feeling aside and fixed your eyes on heeseung as best you could in the lowlight. come here often?

no, actually, i'm new in town.

really? it was hard to believe anyone would willingly come to a town where nothing ever happened except stagnancy. not for fun, i'd imagine.

he laughed. i start my new job in a few days, at nearby university. would you call that fun?

you hummed, intrigued. hot and smart, you really scored big time with this one. but small talk could only ever interest you so far, especially when the top thing rolling in your mind was the scent of his cologne, the bob of his adam's apple, the chain around his neck just close-fitting enough to catch the eye and lead your gaze downwards to the dip in his throat. at least this one, you know to be indecent. i could show you something more fun, if you wanted?

he raised his eyebrow, setting down his glass and leaning close. bergamot, lilac, patchouli. maybe i'll take you up on that, then.

the rest you remember was getting an uber home, tugging him into your apartment the second you managed to push the door open after fumbling with your keys for god knows how long, making out with him in the kitchen for longer than you care to admit, and the trail of scattered clothes you found the morning after, leading from the living room couch to the bedroom.

well, you remember this too: the hot touch on the couch cushions, the laughing against the softness of each other's mouths as you tried to shuffle your way to the bedroom while keeping as much intimacy as possible, and of course, the actual sex—)

"you're off to a good start, but you need to work on your sentence structure." you jump, back straightening. heeseung looks up at you, neutral-faced as ever. "there are only so many loopholes to not ending a sentence before you just have to use a period."

ok. you frown. that was uncalled for. "that's not—"

"also," he turns the paper around, pointing at the third paragraph. "make sure to check if your em and en dashes are used appropriately. it's a sloppy look, otherwise."

it's like it never happened. he hasn't even spared you an extra glance, not when you saw him during discussion section, not when everyone else filed out of the classroom, not even when he called you in for individual office hours to check over your paper. you'd made the appointment days ago, of course, before you knew of the...predicament you would land yourself in, but the nonchalance in which he barely looks at you has the wolf inside you howling the longer you sit here pretending nothing happened.

(if you didn't know better, you'd think you were mistaken—it's what you'd initially thought when you saw him in front of the blackboard. maybe Hot Guy At The Bar had a twin brother. if he was also named heeseung, that was more of their parents' concern than yours.)

but you do know better, which means you know there are sinister intentions beneath his act. he's playing mind games on you, watching carefully, waiting to see when you'll crack. a trap laid specifically for you.

if there's one thing you don't do though, it's lose. so you push aside all memories if his hands anywhere on you and the feeling of his bare back underneath your nails and his mouth on your neck and you clear your throat, blinking rapidly.

"are you listening?"

"yes." he looks up at you again through his ridiculously slutty glasses, gaze smoldering. a sudden vision hits you, of the big pile of papers on his desk getting shoved in a big sweeping motion to the floor, of you and him getting up to no good in this very office, on the chair, on the desk, under the desk—

"—understood?"

"i agree."

he blinks. you blink back at him. "sorry," you clear your throat, speech jilted. "i mean yes. completely understood."

you grab your bag and scoot your chair out, standing to leave before any more beastly imagine spots threaten to further shatter your academic and professional life to pieces.

maybe this is a good thing, you think. maybe you were being paranoid and he didn't even remember you at all. maybe if you played it cool, you could pretend like nothing ever happened at all, dignity in tact. your pride was another matter, but you'll soothe that over with a nice trip to the college bar tonight, a strict 'NO TEACHER ASSISTANTS' sign plastered on your forehead for your next hookup.

"thanks, heeseung," you say oh-so-professionally, turning back to nod him goodbye.

heeseung nods back, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "i look forward to working with you, miss y/n. i'm sure we'll have a lot of fun this semester."

it's nothing special, you're sure he says that to everyone, but the way he says it... you freeze, hand on the doorknob.

he remembers you.

[hoonigiris]

SUNGHOON 241130 Daydream @ Show! Music Core

[hoonigiris]

ENHYPEN: no doubt