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skzwritingcafe · 11 months
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Skzwritingcafe's October/November 2023 event 🌰
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Hi everyone! We'd like to announce our fall event today after taking a little break. Hope you guys have been well!
The theme for this month will be: No Nut November - simp!skz edition. In short, we invite to challenge yourself to write a piece around the (in)famous no nut november but to do so involving a member being a simp! You are free, of course, to depict this as you wish.
∴ This event is for adults only. Please read our guidelines before submitting your work.
∴ Any trope is welcome! Roommate AU, exes to lovers, fake dating, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, etc. Sky is the limit! Any kink is welcome as long as long as it is legal and between two consenting adults (no kinkshaming allowed! let people live!)
∴ All fanfics should be submitted before November 25th, 2023, and should be completed, tagged appropriately, and following our guidelines. They can be of any length and genre as long as they are fanfics and do not promote any kind of hate.
∴ Please submit your entry by posting it on your blog and using our tag #skzwritingcafe as well as this month's tag #skznonutnovember in the first 10 tags. Your entry must indicate that it is a submission to our event. Please mention @skzwritingcafe + the event's name! Thank you!
Do not hesitate to reach out if you have any questions. Happy writing & happy reading!
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skzwritingcafe · 1 year
Text
Skzwritingcafe's October/November 2023 event 🌰
Tumblr media
Hi everyone! We'd like to announce our fall event today after taking a little break. Hope you guys have been well!
The theme for this month will be: No Nut November - simp!skz edition. In short, we invite to challenge yourself to write a piece around the (in)famous no nut november but to do so involving a member being a simp! You are free, of course, to depict this as you wish.
∴ This event is for adults only. Please read our guidelines before submitting your work.
∴ Any trope is welcome! Roommate AU, exes to lovers, fake dating, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, etc. Sky is the limit! Any kink is welcome as long as long as it is legal and between two consenting adults (no kinkshaming allowed! let people live!)
∴ All fanfics should be submitted before November 25th, 2023, and should be completed, tagged appropriately, and following our guidelines. They can be of any length and genre as long as they are fanfics and do not promote any kind of hate.
∴ Please submit your entry by posting it on your blog and using our tag #skzwritingcafe as well as this month's tag #skznonutnovember in the first 10 tags. Your entry must indicate that it is a submission to our event. Please mention @skzwritingcafe + the event's name! Thank you!
Do not hesitate to reach out if you have any questions. Happy writing & happy reading!
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43 notes · View notes
skzwritingcafe · 1 year
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hi are you guys still doing the events? :)
Hi! We took a little break because it's been a busy few months, but we should be announcing a November event later today or some time tomorrow! ^^
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skzwritingcafe · 1 year
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Love Playlist #3: Make It Right (Lee Know)
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«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» 
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"It hurts to love you."
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Pairing: Lee Know x Fem!reader Genre: college au, angst, exes to lovers Warnings: swearing, messy break-up, mc has a fear of the dark, mild haunted house/Halloween descriptions Word Count: 18.3k
*Written for @skzwritingcafe's July/August event: Summertime Confessions ☀️
Special thanks to @baekhyyun & @simpforyongbokk for beta-reading!! 💘
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“I love you.”
You roll your eyes and shove Minho away, trying to suppress the giggles that threaten to spill out. “Stop that. We need to concentrate, or we’ll never find an apartment.”
“I’m definitely concentrating.” Minho grins mischievously. “On you.”
Laughing at his antics, you shake your head, shutting your computer for a brief intermission to tend to Minho’s insatiable appetite for your attention. Your boyfriend never fails to make you smile, no matter what. 
“I love you too, you menace.”
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Minho wakes up with a start. He groggily glances over at the clock hanging on the wall in front of him. Nearly 3 a.m. Slinging his legs over the side of the couch, Minho just sits in that position for a good twenty minutes, marinating in the pitiful mixture of his sweat and tears.
The night before, he’d attempted to drown away his sorrows at some bar he stumbled upon while aimlessly wandering the city streets. It hadn’t worked, obviously, because his wallet wasn’t bottomless, and the pain was too great. But in true character, Minho had tried anyway, until his savior found him slumped over the counter and led him back to a safe place to sober up.
“Stay here as long as you need to,” Chan had said, tucking Minho’s drowsy form into a bundle of blankets on the couch, like he was a little kid.
Minho had tried to resist, mumbling complaints towards his friend’s retreating back, but fell into a troubled slumber before Chan even reached his own bedroom. Now he’s wide awake and unwilling to be so, praying he can just fall back asleep and forget about everything that had transpired in the previous twenty-four hours. But even sleep can’t save him from the memories of what you both once were: happy.
It’s not like he didn’t notice the rift growing between you two in the past few weeks. You didn’t have as much time for each other anymore, reducing your interactions to quick dinners and text messages. But you both have been together for nearly three years, and Minho had assumed that it was just the stress of senior year taking a toll on you both, nothing more. You both had been browsing apartments together just one month ago, finally planning to take the next big step in your relationship. He loves you more than anything in the world, and he so believed that you felt the same about him.
So when you sat him down yesterday at your favorite café, Morningstar Coffee House, and told him that you had doubts about your future together, he was shocked. Too fearful of what you were going to say next, Minho decided to take an abrupt exit out of the conversation, rushing out of the door by using class as an excuse. And now, he will be forced to confront a brutal reality, wishing he could have just gotten this over with yesterday.
A small chime alerts Minho to a new text message, and before he even reaches over to the coffee table to pick up his phone, he knows it’s you. 
bobaluvrr: we need to finish talking catservant98: do we really need to? bobaluvrr: morningstar at 8. i have class, pls don’t be late.
With an exasperated groan, Minho stands up, tossing his phone onto the couch. At the very least, he could use the coffee.
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“Don’t you think you’re being a little extreme?” Soyeon scrapes the bottom of the pint of ice cream in her hands, frowning when her spoon doesn’t recover as much as she’d like.
“Maybe,” Sunoo answers for you from where he’s sprawled out on the floor, lying on his stomach while scrolling through his cellphone. Soyeon chucks a pillow at him, making him yelp and lift his hands up in defeat.
“This is for the best, Soyeon,” you reply firmly, stabbing your spoon into your own pint of rocky road and digging out a generous chunk. As you lick the spoon, you note that you barely notice the creamy goodness that always succeeds in cheering you up. Not today.
Sunoo sits up and sets his phone aside. “Literally last month, you said you wanted to marry Minho as soon as you graduated.”
You swallow harshly, remembering the exact moment Sunoo is referencing. It’s true that you wanted to marry your boyfriend— no, you still want to marry him, even now. But you meant what you said; breaking up with Minho is necessary to prevent any more heartache. You’ve been feeling this indescribable longing seeping into your heart for weeks now, silently pressing through all of your warning bells. It was a whisper in the wind beneath your lofty wings, telling you that one day, Minho was going to leave you. The last few days had been the final straw, forcing you to grasp your courage and do what had to be done.
“I know.” You hold your tears back. “But the situation has obviously changed.”
Soyeon takes your hand in her own, softly rubbing your palm with her thumb to comfort you, while Sunoo just rolls his eyes. “I still blame that bitch Minju. It’s her fault you’re feeling like this, if anyone’s.”
At the mention of Minju, your expression hardens. After all, you don’t exactly have warm regards for a backstabber like her, especially when she had pretended to be your friend just to get close to Minho. When you found out about her ulterior motive, it made the betrayal hurt ten times worse.
You had befriended Minju nearing the end of the previous year, after she sat next to you at lunch when you were alone in the dining hall. All along your short-lived friendship, you had noticed that she would only ask you questions about Minho or your relationship with him, but you brushed it off as an attempt to just get along with your boyfriend. You had no idea that she wanted to do more than that. 
At the beginning of the next semester, Minho mentioned that he had one class with Minju. Ever the optimist, you were pleasantly surprised, thinking that Minju could become friends with Minho as well. After all, it always took Minho forever to really bond with new people, and this would make everything easier. But the little things you kept overlooking built upon each other, forming a whole dam of distrust. 
First, there were all of the times you hung out with both Minju and Minho. While Minho always engaged in conversation with the both of you, if not more with you, Minju would actively ignore you just to talk to Minho. Once, you three visited an arcade together, and there was a game that involved picking teams. Minju immediately declared that she would partner up with Minho, so you had no option but to team with a stranger. But maybe she just wanted to get to know him.
And then you ran into Heeseung, one of Minju’s old classmates. Heeseung had no malicious intentions; he used to have photography class with Minju before she switched out, and needed Minju’s number to ask her for the pen he had lent her. It looked like Minju had changed her course schedule to share a class with Minho. But maybe that was just a coincidence.
The final piece that made you put together Minju’s puzzle was when Minho was dropping you after a date one night. He had kissed you goodbye, and you went inside, wondering if you should invite Minju over to watch some movies. You called Minju and asked her if she wanted to come over, but she claimed that she was very sick and couldn’t even leave her house, down with a high fever in her bed. Feeling sorry for your friend, you decided to whip up a quick batch of soup for Minju and walk over to her loft. However, you saw two people standing right outside the building. Upon closer look, you realized it was Minju and Minho, talking about something you couldn’t hear. But the sight itself was enough— Minju looked perfectly healthy and fresh. You could give the benefit of doubt to your boyfriend, but Minju had obviously lied to you. You ran away before either of them spotted you.
You shake your head, knowing in your heart that even someone like Minju couldn’t really end one of the most important relationships in your life. “It’s not just her. I’m tired of watching every other couple on campus, wishing Minho and I were like that. Everyone calls us perfect, but really, we’re not. I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one who cares. I’m just tired of everything, Sunoo.”
And it’s true. You’ve had enough of wondering about whether you love him too much, if you were being naive about everything. You have always been a very bubbly, social person, wearing your heart on your sleeve. You know that Minho is more of an introvert, and that it’s hard for him to express himself to others. However, you believed that with time, he would open up, at least to you. You found it as easy to confide your fears within Minho as it was to laugh when he tickled you. But communicating with Minho about his own feelings remained a difficulty. He still seems like such a mystery to you, and even if he wasn’t entertaining Minju’s whole plot, you feel like he isn’t as interested in you as you are in him. You hadn’t even bothered telling Minho the truth about Minju, because in the end, you doubt Minju would have troubled you so much if your relationship really was so unbreakable. 
Sunoo’s face softens, as he gets up to envelope you in one of his hugs. “I’m sorry if I came off too strong. I just want the best for you.”
Soyeon joins your little huddle, wrapping her arms around the both of you. “You are our best friend, after all. We can’t have our favorite girl being sad.”
A tiny flicker of hope ignites in your stomach. Whatever happens, you know you’ll have Soyeon and Sunoo by your side. You tell yourself over and over again that you don’t need anyone else but them, until you start to believe it.
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It hurts Minho’s heart to see that you look more beautiful than ever as you step into Morningstar, even with your downturned lips and the reddened sheen of your sleepless eyes. He busies himself with the menu as you approach the table he’s sitting at, as if he wasn’t just watching you a moment earlier.
“Thank you for seeing me.” Your words feel oddly formal, especially taking into account your usual greeting for Minho was an excited hug and an avalanche of kisses.
Minho shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant and not as scared as he really is. “Yeah, of course.”
You scoot your chair closer to the table, clearing your throat. “Did you sleep okay last night?”
Unable to help himself, Minho rolls his eyes. “How do you think I slept, Y/N?”
You immediately flush, realizing how obvious the answer must be. “I was just—”
“Checking on me,” Minho interrupts you, sounding more wounded than angry. “Right after you tell me that you think maybe we shouldn’t move-in together and that you aren’t feeling the same about us.”
You reach across the table to take Minho’s hands in yours. He can’t bring himself to wrench them free from your hold. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“You did.”
“That wasn’t my intention. I just…” You trail off, gazing out the window. The campus is alive with the buzz of students waking up and going on about their days. It’s a gorgeous day for October, with bright sunshine and a cloudless sky— Minho hates it.
He looks away, not wanting to showcase how truly vulnerable he feels right now. “Why? Why this all of a sudden? Did I do something wrong?”
You start. “No!”
“Are you still upset about yesterday? I know everything is stressful right now, but I promise—”
You take a deep breath. “I can no longer trust you. I don't know if I’ll always be the only one. But it’s not you, it’s me.”
“Of course you’re my only one, what are you talking about?” Minho shakes his head, the desperation creeping in. “No. I promise I’ll try. I’ll be better. Whatever it is, we’ll get through this together.”
You slam your palms down on the table, making it shake. It shocks both you and Minho into a moment of charged silence. “We’ll only grow to hate each other at this rate. I need to end things with you now.”
“Y/N, please. I- I don’t want to break-up.”
You flash Minho a broken smile. “I don’t want it either. But I need to do this, for both our sakes.”
You stand up from your chair, and Minho finally breaks. Minho, who didn’t cry even when he fell into a ravine while hiking and broke his arm. Minho, who didn’t cry even when he was cut from the line-up for his dream internship in New York City. Minho, who never cries, sits in front of you now, the tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping onto his sweatshirt.
“Don’t go, please.” He makes one last attempt at getting you to stay, grabbing onto the arm of your jacket. 
You gently shake him free, taking your purse. You’re crying now too. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Min.”
Minho lets his arm fall limply to his side as he hopelessly watches you leave as quickly as you came. He always hated saying goodbye after every time you went out, but the thought of being able to see you the next day helped a little bit. Now, there wasn’t even that.
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“One… two… three.” 
Minho grunts in effort, sweat slowly dripping down his neck at the arduous pace of each repetition.
“Keep going, Minho. You’re almost there,” Changbin says, leaning over Minho and supporting him on the bench press.
Minho barely hears him, flexing his biceps up and down, exhausted, yet determined to finish a set. He’s done nothing at all for the past few days, strangled with the inevitable grief of being broken up with. Minho sullenly welcomed trudging back and forth to classes. He went to bed early and slept in for as long as possible, and barely ate anything during the meals Chan forced him to have.
However, Chan finally became fed up with Minho’s mopiness, employing Changbin to drag him out to the gym and make him work out his feelings. And so, as he struggles under the backbreaking weight of the barbell, he yearns to feel a sense of accomplishment about something— anything.
“Ten! You’re done.” Changbin gently places a hand on Minho’s arm, willing him to stop, but Minho keeps going without toning down his pace.
It hurts to love you.
Minho feels the excruciating ache burning in his muscles, the slow agony of pain rippling through him. Is this how you feel? Is this how much it hurts to love him? If so, he wants to live it over and over again, atoning for the reason you left him. He blames himself for letting you go, of course, but mostly for making you feel like you had to leave in the first place. He should have been a better man for you. 
“Minho, stop!” Changbin lifts up the weight in his own hands, racking it and staring down accusingly at his charge. “Are you crazy? You could have hurt yourself.”
“You lift more than that, and you’re fine. Give me that.” Minho reaches for the barbell once more, but Changbin places it on an even higher hook, forcing Minho to get off the bench.
“I’ve been doing this for years. You started after your girlfriend dumped you, four days ago.”
Minho rolls his eyes, picking up his towel and dabbing at his dampened skin. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“You were already thinking about her anyway.” Changbin pats Minho’s shoulder, grabbing his bottle of green juice and walking over to the rowing machine to start his own workout.
Without further protest, Minho retreats to the locker rooms, wondering if he’s being that obvious. Minho gazes into the clouded mirror, inspecting himself for any signs of sadness, but all he receives is an eyeful of his general look, a guarded expression that reserves smiles only for those who deserve it. Weird. Maybe Changbin is just telepathic.
Minho shoves his belongings into his gym bag and heads out of the gym, back to nowhere else but Chan’s apartment, his temporary home until he finds a better place to stay. After all, he thought you both would be moving in together, but plans change. 
As Minho makes his way down the sidewalk that leads to the university off-campus housing complex, someone throws a soccer ball into his path. Great.
“Hey, can you pass that over here?” 
Clenching his jaw in annoyance, Minho kicks at the ball as hard as he can, not caring about where it lands. He ignores the person’s confused shouts and keeps walking until he reaches his destination, not acknowledging any of the strangers he passed by. What does it matter, anyway?
“Gym go well?” Chan looks up from the cutting board, setting down his knife and wiping his hands on a dishrag.
Minho sighs, neatly fixing his bag next to his current post, the sofa. “It was fine. I’ll go clean up and be right back.”
“Hurry! Dinner’s almost ready,” Chan calls as Minho heads inside the bathroom, locking the door and cranking on the shower. 
Minho feels his body relax as he steps under the steady stream of water, but his mind remains tense. He’d gone to the gym with Changbin today because he thought he’d be able to get some peace of mind and forget about everything, but evidently, that hadn’t worked. All he can think about is you, you, you. He’ll deny it to his friends for as long as he can, but he isn’t sure how long he can keep lying to himself.
As he finishes, Minho steps out of the steamy bathroom and into the bedroom, drying off and quickly changing into his clothes. He walks into the dining area, where Chan has set up two bowls and is ladling pasta into each of them. When he was younger, Minho’s mother used to tell them that a good meal could ease a troubled heart. For her sake and Chan’s, he decides to eat well today, just for living.
Enveloped in a comfortable silence, Minho and Chan dig in, enjoying the spicy, cheesy penne that serves as an instant comfort food. 
“Thanks, Chan,” Minho says, looking up from his bowl.
Chan swallows his bite and pauses, placing down his fork. “For what?”
Minho shrugs awkwardly, trying to find the right words. By now, he knows he’s no good at speaking his heart. “For being there for me. For feeding me. Everything, I guess.”
“And for making Changbin haul your ass to the gym.” Chan grins at Minho, nothing but warmth in his kind eyes. “What are friends for, brother?”
Even though he feels kind of crappy, Minho smiles. “Yeah, man.”
Chan reaches over and smacks Minho’s back, laughing the sentiment off. But deep inside, Minho knows that Chan understands him. Whatever happens, his brother will be by his side. He tells that to himself over and over again, through dinner and the TV show that Chan turns on, until he starts to believe it. 
The next morning, Minho wakes up after finally getting a good night’s sleep. The much needed rest spurs him on to message you, something he’s been putting off for a while now.
catservant98: did you wake up? catservant98: how are you doing? catservant98: ??
You don’t reply to any of his texts. Minho knows that you’re not much of a morning person, but you would never miss class, so you have to be up. Every Thursday and Friday, both of you have Writing Seminar together, a course that is mandatory for every senior student at the university you both attend. When he first received his schedule, he had been elated that he shared a class with his girlfriend. Well now you are his ex-girlfriend, and he doesn’t know that being in the same room and unable to speak with you is a great option.
Nevertheless, Minho tucks his phone into his pocket, opening the door to the lecture hall. The moment he enters, his eyes find yours. You’re sitting in your favorite spot in the middle of the fifth row, but the seat next to you that Minho usually takes is already occupied by some other girl who’s busy reading a book. You didn’t bother saving him a seat, for the very first time.
You tear your eyes away from Minho’s piercing gaze, looking at the grassy lawn beyond the window behind you, leaving Minho to find a new seat. He sets his backpack down in the very back row, where no one else is, and sits alone, a sad new reality setting in. Thankfully, the professor enters and starts talking about some upcoming project, leaving Minho ample leeway to observe you. 
Your head is tilted down and you're focused on the open notebook in front of you. Although he can’t see your hand properly, he knows it’s moving as you sketch a little doodle onto the paper. It’s a habit that he always found enormously endearing, and as you tuck your hair behind your ear, Minho feels another pang in his chest. He will never be able to brush back your hair for you, ever again.
The moment class is over, Minho quits pretending he’s actually paying attention and hurries over to you before you can leave. You’re midway through stuffing your books bag in your bag when you notice Minho hovering over you. With a resigned sigh, you look up at him expectantly.
“I- I just wanted to check on you,” Minho says quietly, looking down at his hands like he’s a kid again, guilty of stealing a candy instead of impinging on your time. “And see how you’re doing.”
“I’ve been better.” You look away and stand up, gesturing towards the door. “I should go. Soyeon’s probably waiting.”
“Okay then.” Minho steps aside, letting you pass. You both had a lot of mutual friends; surely every interaction between you both will not be this awkward, right? 
Before you leave, however, you turn and look at him. “Let’s try to be civil and move on, okay? We’ll still be seeing each other a lot, so.”
Minho just stares at you, for a moment, before remembering himself. “Yeah, okay. Let’s try.”
You curtly nod and walk out the door. Minho isn’t so sure that moving on is what he wants. Of course he wants to get along with you, because having you in his life and not being romantically involved is better than not being involved with you at all. But he wishes the world— time, you, and even himself— would understand that moving on meant this loss in his life. Shaking his head, Minho heads out of the classroom and towards a hopefully better day.
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“Are you sure this isn’t a bad idea?” You worriedly scan the increasing mass of partygoers. Usually, you love a good party; spending time with friends and making new ones is one of your favorite things to do. Tonight, however, you can’t help the bad feeling building inside of you.
Sunoo loops your arm through yours, leading the way for you through the swanky flat, searching for a place to sit. “No, it isn’t. You deserve to have some fun.”
“What if I see Minho?” You ask him, but you already know the answer. Of course Minho is coming to Jihyo’s birthday party; unfortunately, both of you were in the same large friend group, an aspect of your relationship that you used to cherish. Now, not so much.
He looks over at you, a challenge in his eyes. “And so what if you do? You told him you wanted to be civil. So be civil.”
“Right.”
You both find a place by the food tables, where boxes of pizza have already been opened to entice guests and bottles of beer chill in the cooler. After congratulating Jihyo and helping yourself to a few slices, you sit down on the couch next to Sunoo, trying to enjoy your dinner. After boba, pizza is your most favorite food on the whole planet, but even that can’t seem to soothe your nerves. You wish Soyeon were here too, but she’s stuck studying for an exam.
Noticing your restlessness, Sunoo whistles to a few people mingling nearby. “Hey, who wants to play Truth or Dare!”
Although outdated, Truth or Dare is a certified party hit for stressed college students like you all, especially if there’s alcohol involved. You’re just thankful for the distraction. Everyone quickly huddles around, buzzing in anticipation of either a comedy show or secrets being revealed.
“I’ll go first.” Chan says, stepping forward. If he’s here, so must be Minho. “Truth.”
Sunoo rubs his hands together in thought before piping up. “What’s your beef with your Student Council co-president?”
Chan immediately tenses, his cheeks turning red. “Shit. I’ll drink on that.”
Everyone whoops with laughter and cheers as Chan downs his beer, setting the cup down with a sour expression on his face due to the bitterness of the drink. He must really hate his co-president. The game continues, before you’re the only person playing who hasn’t gone yet. Unfortunately, your questioner is Mark Lee, a junior that’s notorious for his nosiness. You brace yourself for whatever invasive question he’ll come up with, but you aren’t as quite prepared as you think.
“Why did you and Y/N break up?” 
“Huh?” You follow Mark’s gaze to see him looking at Minho, who joined the game without you realizing. The question was meant for him, not you.
Minho says nothing, giving Mark the opportunity to keep talking. “I mean, weren’t you guys the golden couple of campus or something?”
Everyone quiets down, zeroing in on you and Minho for all of the wrong reasons. Minho’s eyes dart over to where you sit, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You feel your skin prickle and your body heat up, the stress clouding your senses once more.
“This is stupid. Game’s over,” Minho declares while getting up, and everyone disperses, not willing to argue with him.
You stare down at your lap as Sunoo places an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close to him. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I had no idea Mark would ask that. What an asshole.”
“I’m fine.” You stand up, brushing off your skirt. “I’m going to go get a drink.”
“I’ll come with you,” Sunoo offers.
You shake your head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll come back.”
After getting some water, you wind through the impromptu dance floor that has now taken over the living space, everyone jamming to the raging music that thumps through the loud bass speakers that Jihyo had installed into her flat. You dodge a couple grinding up against each other and a pair of best friends swinging to the beat. Before you head back to Sunoo, you’re about to find temporary reprieve out on the balcony, but like a cruel universal joke, you see exactly what you fear most.
Minho leans against the railing, the evening breeze ruffling the chestnut hair that frames his handsome face. And next to him stands Minju, twirling her hair around her fingers while listening to what Minho is murmuring to her. Yours and Minju’s eyes meet, and she gives you the faintest hint of a satisfied smirk. Your heart drops and your feet want to give out right then and there, but you would rather die than fall apart in front of both of them. You turn on your heel and blindly march to wherever will rid you of the side of the person you love the most speaking to the person you hate the most. 
That destination turns out to be the kitchen, as you march in and huff out loud as your body hits the kitchen island. There’s no one else there except for one other person with his upper body hidden by the refrigerator, obviously raiding it. At the sound of someone else entering, he shuts the fridge door and looks over at you. Taking in his faded pink hair and beat-up converse sneakers, you vaguely recognize him from somewhere.
“I was just looking for some carrot juice, that’s all.” The guy shoots you a sheepish smile. “I don’t do booze past 9 p.m.”
“Carrot juice? Don’t tell me you’re a fitness freak.”
He raises his hands in faux surrender. “Guilty. But outside of the gym, I’m Kang Taehyun. Or Terry, if we’re acquainted, and hopefully you and I will be by the end of the night. So call me Terry.”
You’re intrigued by this carrot-loving stranger. “I’m—”
“Y/N, I know. We have Writing Seminar together.” Terry smiles as the recognition hits you.
You slap your palm against your forehead, wondering how you could have missed him. “I’m so sorry. I guess I was always too distracted in that class.”
He waves your apology off with a twist of his wrist. “No worries. Besides, you’re a lot more memorable than me.”
You feel your cheeks heat up. “Thank you.”
In the brief silence that follows, you gaze up at the pattern of the tiling on the countertops, toying with the hem of your skirt. Once again, your thoughts flit over to Minho, wondering if he’s still talking to Minju. Terry notices you spacing out and speaks up. “Hey, are you okay?”
You look up at him like a deer caught in headlights. Suddenly, everything feels like too much, and you’re overwhelmed with your own emotions. You feel yourself tear up, and you’re immediately mortified for breaking down in front of someone you just met. 
Unfazed, Terry crosses over to you in three quick strides and gently touches your arm, concerned. “Hey, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
You swipe at your eyes, trying to collect yourself. “No, it’s not you. I broke up with my boyfriend recently. And it’s been… bad. God, this is embarrassing.”
Terry dips his head in understanding. “I noticed you weren’t sitting next to him as usual in class earlier today. Minho— that's him, right?”
You let out a mirthless chuckle. “Yeah.”
“Well…” Terry trails off, and you fear you’ve ruined the mood with your depressive recollection, but he smiles at you. “I’ll tell you something embarrassing about me. I have a fear of mint chocolate chip ice cream.”
A giggle escapes your mouth at the absurdity of his confession. “What?”
Terry nods solemnly. “Yes. Technically, I have a fear of visiting the dentist, but mint choco is close enough to the taste of toothpaste to give me the chills.”
You grin at Terry, the down atmosphere slowly fading away. “What do you like, then?”
“Water slides. Pleasure reading. And caramel popcorn with extra caramel.” Terry flexes his bicep. “Even a fitness freak needs his sugar fix.”
You roll your eyes in good humor. “You’re really something, aren’t you, Kang Taehyun?”
“I’m hoping that’s a compliment.” Terry runs his hand through his bubblegum hair, carelessly mussing it up. You find the messiness of his bangs absolutely adorable.
“It is.” You tap your nails against your cup, trying to think of something to say next. Generally, you have no difficulty in keeping a conversation going, but Terry seems to be content with that role in this one.
“Are you an Apple or Android kind of person?” Terry inquires.
You take a sip of your water, raising your eyebrow at him. “Where did that come from?”
“I was trying to think of a good way to ask you for your number.” Terry shrugs, that playful smile that you’ve now become familiar with coming back.
You return it. “You just did.”
Both of you exchange cell phones and type in each other’s contact information. When finished, Terry slides your phone back into your palm, and you don’t miss the light touch of his fingers against your own.
“I have to go find my friend now, Terry. But I’m glad I met you. Don’t forget to spam me with more weird facts about yourself.”
Terry laughs. “I won’t. Like I said, Y/N, you’re not easily forgettable.”
You hide your smile and leave the kitchen, lost in your own world, even as you run straight into Sunoo, who asks you what took you so long. When you finally get back to the warmth of your own room after the party, you sit down to get some homework done before bed. You notice your favorite keychain, a little cat charm, hanging off your ID card lanyard that’s strewn across your desk. Minho gifted it to you last year, stating that you needed something to remind you of him when he wasn’t there. After a moment’s hesitation, you unclip the charm from the lanyard and tuck it away inside your desk. You don’t need the reminder right now.
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terrypotter: hey, good morning!! this is terry from yday btw bobaluvrr: hii!  bobaluvrr: omg ur user <3 i love harry potter too!  terrypotter: this friendship was meant to be.
You throw off your covers, hopping out of bed. Last night was proof that things could start out horrible and end well. You meant what you said to Terry; you’re happy you were able to meet someone like him. Even though you both only hung out for a few minutes, talking to him felt relaxing and uncomplicated, less of a puzzle and more like a game, unlike how it felt with Minho. You were tired of always guessing Minho’s thoughts, and so Terry’s habit of speaking his mind feels incredibly refreshing.
terrypotter: here’s a thought- coffee @ morningstar?  terrypotter: they make a mean breakfast bagel too, if ur up for it
You frown down at your phone, the lighthearted feeling fading into uncertainty. You are glad that Terry named this new acquaintance as a friendship, but still, he’s a boy— and a good looking one at that, too. You aren’t sure if getting coffee entails something potentially romantic down the lane, and if it does, it feels wrong, especially so soon after Minho. You definitely haven’t moved on, yet. After all, you once believed that Minho would be the man you would marry one day, and a tiny part of you still dreams of what could be.
bobaluvrr: i can’t :( promised my roommates breakfast terrypotter: aw that’s too bad
After a moment of thought, however, you text him again. 
bobaluvrr: but i’ll save you a seat in class today! terrypotter: see u then :) 
Strangely buzzed, you make your bed and get ready for the day, trying not to think of the fact that Minho is also in Writing Seminar with you and Terry. You don’t want him to give him the wrong idea, but then again, you both weren’t together anymore, so what does it matter? 
After showering and getting dressed, you stand in the kitchen so that the excuse you gave Terry won’t be a lie, scrambling a few eggs in the frying pan that Minho bought you last year. As the designated chef in your relationship, Minho used to cook for you all the time, whenever you came over to the apartment he shared with Chan and Jisung. Whenever he visited you, however, he complained that there weren’t enough proper cooking supplies for him to create a “proper culinary experience” for you, so he insisted on buying you some. 
When you nearly fainted, looking at the receipts for everything he bought you, he promised that you could make it up to him by bringing everything with you when you moved in with him. That’s how he very smoothly asked you to move in with him, and you accepted by attacking him with kisses. You both planned to find an apartment as soon as possible, since Jisung wanted to move-in with his best friend, and Chan was looking for his own place. The reminiscing smile on your face fades away when you remember that everyone’s plans came to fruition except for yours and Minho’s.
You don’t know if it’s the universe looping Minho into your life again and again, or if your treacherous heart just misses him so much that you can’t help but subconsciously cling to every last remnant you have of him. The sensible side of you knows it’s the latter scenario. 
“I smell food.” Sunoo ambles out of his room, looking like a lovable yet scruffy teddy bear. 
He tries to sneak a piece of fried egg from the pan, but you quickly push his hands away, wrinkling your nose. “Go brush your teeth first. I’m going to throw up.”
Sunoo rolls his eyes sleepily, but obeys, before Soyeon also comes out of her bedroom. Unlike Sunoo, however, she’s all dressed and ready for business, clad in her uniform of baggy jeans and a badass leather jacket that you adore. Soyeon pulls out three glasses and starts juicing a couple oranges to complete your meal, as you start plating the food.
“Thank you, my angel,” Soyeon blows you a kiss as you set the eggs and some slices of buttered toast on the table. You wink back at her as you both take your seats and Sunoo comes out to join you, still wearing his pajamas.
“And you, lazy ass? Wake up earlier so you can help out more. You never do anything.” Soyeon smacks Sunoo’s arm, hard, eliciting a cry out of him.
“Hey! I take on the emotional support role in this house,” Sunoo replies, aggressively biting into his toast.
“This is an apartment.”
Your two roommates trade their usual insults back and forth as you tune them out, picking at your own plate. Maybe it had been a bad idea, asking Terry to sit next to you. And it wasn’t even about how you could already envision your ex-boyfriend’s beautiful eyes full of betrayal, but more of how you’re coming off to Terry. What if he got the wrong idea, that you both were heading into something more than a friendship?
When you’ve escaped Sunoo and Soyeon’s bickering, you plug in your earbuds and walk to the lecture hall. The sound of your morning mix fills your ears as you enter your own world. While you cherish the people in your life more than anything, you treasure the times when you can slow down and just appreciate the fact that you’re alive and healthy. Gratitude isn’t something you feel a lot, especially taking into account recent happenings, but maybe you’ll start now. A new friend is always something to be thankful for—
You hear someone calling out and immediately pull out your headphones to see Terry next to you. 
“Hey, Y/N!” Terry falls into a synchronized step with you. “Did I interrupt any deep contemplation? The look on your face was pretty intense.”
You shake your head, accepting the coffee that Terry hands to you. “Thank you. And no, you didn’t. It’s nice to see you again, Terry.”
Terry smiles, sipping from his own cup. “Likewise. Ready for class?”
You’re about to naturally give him an affirmative answer, before you halt, remembering yet another moment with Minho.
“Who the hell is he?” Minho glowers threateningly at the guy next to you, pulling the sleeves of his button-down up to his elbows. The man quickly rushes out of the bar and into the rain, without even bothering to open the umbrella in his hands. 
You sigh loudly while Minho sits down on the stool the man was just perched on. “Was that necessary, Min? Poor guy just wanted to ask me about the book I’m reading.”
“That’s the pretense that all guys put up when they’re trying to hit on a girl.” Minho slides his arm around your shoulders, and despite your mild annoyance, you melt into his touch. He smells like a mix of cologne, rain, and fresh cotton sheets.
You look up at Minho through your eyelashes. “Is that what you did when you asked me out?”
Minho smiles lovingly at you. “I didn’t have to. You were down bad for me already.”
You shove him away in mock offense. “You were the down bad one! I remember your whole cheesy speech.”
“I don’t recall anything like that.” The smirk on Minho’s face fades in favor of a deep blush.
Laughing, you press a kiss to your boyfriend’s lips, and he quickly reciprocates. The truth is, you both were impossibly down bad for each other. And to be even more honest, you enjoyed it when Minho got like this; the feeling of being Lee Minho’s girl will never not excite you, especially when he was the one keen on enforcing it.
You sigh to yourself. While that was a pleasant memory without the context, you aren’t so sure it’ll be cute this time, when Minho reacts to you and Terry.
Terry holds the door open to the lecture hall, letting you go in first before shutting the door behind him. Most of the class is already assembled there, setting up their desks before the professor starts. You see that Minho’s also sitting, perched in the back again, but he seems busy rifling through his bag, looking for something. As you take your own seat, you don’t know if you feel relief at Minho not saying anything, or disappointment that he didn’t notice you at all.
Throughout the duration of class, you and Terry giggle together over the professor’s infamous random rants, but your mind keeps flitting over to Minho. You can feel his gaze on you and Terry, but when you turn, you see him immersed in his notes like he wasn’t looking at you in the first place, and you end up feeling stupid. Fearful of what Minho— or really, you— might do, as soon as class ends, you grab Terry’s wrist and practically pull him out of the door, ready to get out of there. Terry doesn’t question it, understanding the rationale for your actions. You appreciate that about him.
To make it up to Terry, you take him out to lunch, choosing a restaurant downtown. You love the views of the riverfront there, as well as their renowned spicy food. You block out the memory of all of the times you and Minho walked over here, hand in hand. You are entitled to lunch at your favorite restaurant, you remind yourself. Once you’re seated, the waiter comes over to your table.
“Chef’s special soup, please. Level-three spice,” you tell the waiter.
The waiter writes down your orders and walks away, leaving Terry to look at you with an amused expression. “Level-three? The food here is already spicy.”
You cross your arms. “I have a very high spice tolerance.”
“Alright.”
In no time at all, your waiter is back, setting down the food in front of you both. Terry immediately digs in, shoveling liberal spoonfuls of his mild fried rice into his mouth, leaving you to stare at your soup. You can practically smell the red pepper in the steam rising out of the bowl.
“Here’s my last warning before destruction,” Terry says, squeezing a lemon onto his rice. “Try some rice.”
You sit up, trying to look self-assured. “Nonsense. I can do this.”
Of course, you wish you hadn’t bragged so much, barely a few seconds after your first sip of the spicy broth. Your eyes start to tear up involuntarily, and Terry fills a glass of water from the iced pitcher and hands it over to you. You accept it, clumsily tipping the cool water into your mouth, as Terry gives you a knowing smile.
“Aren’t you overdoing it?”
The spoon in your hands nearly falls onto the floor in your shock at Terry’s words. “What did you just say?”
Terry gives you an odd look. “Um, I said, ‘aren’t you overdoing it?’”
You take a deep breath, the tears now flowing down your cheeks. But you know that they’re not completely due to the soup. “Wow.”
“Are you okay, Y/N?” Terry hands you a napkin, worry written on his face. He signals for the waiter to refill the water pitcher.
You smile ruefully. “Yeah, I will be.”
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“I can handle it, Minho.” You give him a glare, placing the napkin on your lap and scooting closer to the table. It’s your first date with Minho, and you want to impress him so bad.
Minho nudges your leg with his own, and you try not to look flustered. “It’s okay if you want to order something else.”
You stubbornly dig your spoon into the bowl, gathering a large helping of broth and noodles onto it. “You like the soup here. So I want to eat it too.”
He just laughs, watching intently as the clear signs of regret manifest on your face. “Told you so.”
"What are you talking about?” You narrow your eyes, unwilling to admit defeat, even though you really, really want to. You drink the soup in careful spoonfuls, pretending it’s too hot, but you struggle to speak even in between tiny sips. “This… is.. so… delicious.”
Minho is now hysterical, losing his mind laughing at the look on your face when you bite straight into a whole jalapeno. “Aren’t you overdoing it?”
“Minho, you’re so mean!” You can’t bear it any longer, the tears gushing down your cheeks while you also laugh in both pain and genuine happiness at being here with Minho, at making him laugh. 
“Alright, alright.” Minho quickly goes and gets a large glass of chilled apple juice from the bar, handing it to you. 
When you’re finally calmed down, you wipe your mouth with your napkin and set the spoon down, metaphorically waving a white flag. You skip straight to dessert, opting to soothe your taste buds with cold ice cream, all while watching Minho in awe as he easily finishes his own bowl of soup. After paying for dinner, Minho takes you to a secluded section of the rocky beach bordering the river that runs straight through the city. You both walk in a comfortable silence, still at that point where your hands slightly touch as you walk, unsure of just holding each other like you so want them to. 
You look over at Minho, suddenly self-conscious. At this point, you see no point in faking anything; he’s seen you literally sob over a bowl of soup. “About the soup… I promise I’m not a braggy show-off. Honestly, I just wanted to impress you. Guess I did the opposite, though.”
“What are you talking about?” Minho shakes his head, all laughter from before gone. “I’ve never met someone who ate a bowl of soup here just because I like it. Not even Chan would try it, and he’s my best friend.”
You blush, illuminated by the combination of the moonlight and the glittering city surrounding. “Thank you.”
Minho stops walking, turning around to face you. “I know I told you this when I asked you to go out with me, but I suck at using my words, so I’m sorry.”
You copy his movement so you’re looking him directly in the eye. “I understand you, words or not.”
Minho looks down at the rocky ground, secretly fighting his own insecurities. “I’m trying, but I… I admit I’m not great at this.”
You try not to show how utterly charmed you are by his bashfulness. “To be honest, neither am I. You’re actually the first person I’ve ever gone out with. Nobody’s really been into me before.”
“Seriously?” Minho looks shocked. 
You now wonder if divulging that information in him was wise. Definitely not. “Yeah.”
Minho kicks a pebble into the river, watching it sink into the water. “Idiots.”
You blink. “Sorry?”
He scoffs, looking back at you. “I don’t know what kind of idiots you were hanging around before. How could no one be into you?”
You shrug, embarrassed. Your heart feels heavy, thinking of the things people used to say to you, thinking they were being funny but not realizing how much mere words were hurting you. “I’m kind of undateable, I guess. People tend to gravitate towards Soyeon. They say I’m more of the comedic relief. I don’t blame them, though. She’s perfect.”
Minho gives you an unreadable expression. “You have no idea.”
“Of what?”
He crosses that miniscule space between you both, answering you in a different way than you expect. His lips are full and sweet, and he tastes like your coffee ice cream that he stole a few bites from. The surprise you harbor quickly melts away when you shut your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as he circles his around your waist. If it took this long to find the right person, then so be it. And you don’t know if you can say that this— your first kiss ever— is like the movies; it feels even better. 
“I may not be good with words, but I can say this: you are perfect.”
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“You look kind of stupid,” Hyunjin says, cackling at Minho’s struggle to look over the top of the box in his hands while coordinating his movements. 
Minho gives Hyunjin a sharp look in response. “And you look ready to go into the air fryer.”
Hyunjin immediately tosses his phone aside and scurries over to where Minho is, taking the box out of his hands and transporting it into Minho’s designated bedroom with ease, looking over his shoulder fearfully as he goes. Minho smiles to himself, satisfied. 
He follows Hyunjin into the room, finding the latter boy dramatically smoothing out the bedsheets and straightening the pillows. Hyunjin side-eyes Minho’s entrance, earning him a smack on the backside and a great reason to get out of the room, leaving Minho in peace.
Minho quickly unpacks, neatly folding his clothes and stacking them in the closet, before organizing the rest of his belongings around the room. When he finishes, he falls back onto his new bed, staring up at the ceiling fan and observing it whir. Out of everything that’s happened, he knows he should be thankful; although Hyunjin is the designated comedian of their friend group— along with Jisung, of course— he values his privacy incredibly. So when Hyunjin offered to rent out a room in his apartment to Minho, he couldn’t believe his luck. Then again, he wishes he wasn’t in this position to begin with.
Earlier today, Chan insisted on going out to catch the football game that their university hosted. Minho had agreed, with nothing better to do— besides, he noticed that Chan was also having a rough start to his day, after being locked in the campus library all night with his co-president that he always conflicted with. Chan had stayed quiet for the entire time, staring out the window on the ride to the home game, but at least he had a happy ending. By the end of the game, things had changed for Chan, and for the better: he’d amended things with his co-president, and of everything that could have happened, they even emerged from the stadium as a couple. For Minho, however, things had been quite different.
Namely, there’s a new replacement for Minho. He saw you walk into class with Kang Taehyun yesterday, and he’d been so anxious to not let you see his reaction that he immediately busied himself with his backpack. The entire time, however, he was watching you both whisper to each other during class. He darkly observed Taehyun scribble something onto the corner of your notebook, and it had made you laugh. That was what Minho used to do all the time. By the end of class, Minho considered confronting you right then and there, without caring about anyone else, but you ran out of class with Taehyun before he could even move.
And to make things even worse, he saw you and Taehyun together at the game. Minho had to resist the urge to march down to your section and slap the flirtatious smile off of Taehyun’s face. But more than anything, he wanted to ask you if it was true. Did you really already start to move on with a new man? Is Minho really that replaceable to you?
“Hey, what are you up to?” Hyunjin cautiously sticks his head into the room, snapping Minho out of his reverie.
“Nothing much. What’s up?”
Hyunjin steps into the room, his silky shirt and pressed trousers a stark contrast to Minho’s soft blue t-shirt and gym shorts. “Wanna go to the convenience store with me? I ran out of snacks.”
“You and your snacks,” Minho teases, chasing after Hyunjin when he sticks his tongue in retaliation.
A few minutes later, Hyunjin successfully drags Minho into the convenience store, disappearing into the junk food aisles to get his fix and leaving Minho to wander around the store. Following the twisting row of frozen foodstuffs, Minho turns and crashes straight into you.
“Minho?” Your eyes widen.
Minho clears your throat, trying not to gaze at you like you’re a returned long-lost love. You are indeed lost to him, but he had class with you merely the day before. He needs to get a grip on himself. “You dropped this.”
He kneels down, picking up the tub of ice cream, and hands it to you after inspecting the flavor label. “Strawberry? You hate strawberry.”
You take it back hastily. “Yeah. You always loved it, though.”
That doesn’t satisfy Minho’s rampant irritation. “You wouldn’t even touch strawberry ice cream with a ten-foot pole before. What changed?”
“I just wanted to try something new,” you say, with what Minho observes as guilt.
Before Minho can respond, the person he wants to see the least rounds the corner and interrupts you both. 
“I promise, the strawberry ice cream here is amazing and— oh.” Taehyun walks up to where you are, standing slightly between you and Minho, before he looks down at you, ignoring Minho. “Am I interrupting something? I can go away.”
You shake your head, flaring the rage in Minho. “It’s fine. You can stay.”
“So you’ll eat strawberry ice cream with him, but not me.” Minho rolls his eyes, the humiliation inside him swelling like a balloon.
“Hey man, it’s nothing like that. I know she doesn’t like strawberry ice cream that much, but I practically threatened her to try it. J'adore strawberries,” Taehyun says in a joking tone, but Minho doesn’t miss the protective glint in his eye.
Minho has never been a violent person, but he balls his fists. The nerve. “Who the fuck even are you? You don’t know anything about—”
“What is your problem, Minho?” You cut in angrily. “If you’re mad at me, then be mad at me. Don’t take your frustrations out on Terry.”
What you said is perfectly sensible, Minho knows that. He doesn’t have anything against Taehyun at all; he doesn’t even know the guy. But all logic is thrown out of the window when it comes to you.
“Terry?” Minho scoffs at the nickname. “You know what, I am mad at you. Because seriously? Kang Taehyun? He isn’t even your type.”
Before Taehyun can say anything else, you respond to Minho’s jab, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “Right, because you were so perfect for me.”
The words hit him like a sledgehammer, and Minho starts in surprise— you’ve never talked to him like that before, ever. And neither has he. The regret is evident on your face as you shake your head, frustrated, like that came out wrong.
“I got the snacks!” Hyunjin announces suddenly, waltzing into the aisle, before he notices you standing there with Taehyun. “What’s going on here?”
You and Taehyun stay quiet, adding onto Minho’s misery. He wants you to say something, anything. He doesn’t even want an apology; he knows he absolutely deserved that insult. Still, Minho can’t help that horrible feeling rising inside of him.
“Let’s just go.” Minho turns on his heel and walks out of the store, before waiting to finish the conversation, Hyunjin following closely behind. He doesn’t bother looking back.
Hyunjin doesn’t say anything to Minho, falling silent in the rapidly approaching night. At times like this, Minho prefers to be left alone. But he isn’t, really. Not with the truth leaning over his shoulder, like an angelic superego. He tries not to think of it, however, or the fact that his heart is falling apart so violently in his chest. Although you and Minho are not together anymore, you’ve both now fulfilled a milestone: hurt each other beyond repair.
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The convenience store encounter with Minho left you feeling guiltier than ever, even more than when you actually broke up with him. You should have been more understanding towards Minho; after suddenly ending things, you appear out with Terry. Even though you don’t see Terry like that, you are well aware of how it can look to Minho. After all, you’d react similarly if you found out that Minho and Minju are dating. But you hadn’t, because you know that Minho would never do that to you. 
You sigh, shutting the door to your room and collapsing onto your bed. After the whole incident, the air between you and Terry had been pretty awkward. While you still don’t know much about Terry, including his intentions, the topic of a romance had never been broached until Minho did it for you. He’d walked you back to your apartment, before wishing you a goodnight. 
Your phone sounds with a text, and you pick it up, curling into your pillow. It’s Terry.
terrypotter: just checking up on you terrypotter: how are you doing? bobaluvrr: better, thanks for asking terrypotter: glad to hear  terrypotter: and i also want to say that i’m sorry for any role i might have played in what happened today bobaluvrr: you’re good, terry. it wasn’t about you. i’m sorry for bringing you in
There is truth to this. No matter how much it feels like third parties have an avenue in furthering the split between you and Minho, the problem has always been internal. It’s truly between you both, hence, you’re not a couple anymore.
bobaluvrr: let’s change the subject? terrypotter: ofc terrypotter: wanna play would you rather?
You laugh in spite of yourself. It feels good to laugh, to distract yourself, but Minho stays like a stubborn mirage in your mind. Nevertheless—
bobaluvrr: game on. terrypotter: beaches or mountains? bobaluvrr: beaches terrypotter: sweet or salty? bobaluvrr: are u kidding? my username? boba?? terrypotter: LOL sweet then bobaluvrr: yes. terrypotter: spring or autumn? bobaluvrr: spring, duh terrypotter: and lastly, dogs or cats? bobaluvrr: DOGS terrypotter: u are 100% correct terrypotter: all of our answers are the exact same LMFAO
You think back to your first date with Minho. Before the whole soup fiasco, the atmosphere had been so awkward while waiting for the soup to arrive. This was months of tension and pining between you both, and now that the apex had arrived, neither of you were sure of what to say. Without thinking, Minho broke the silence by randomly asking you if you liked dogs or cats better. You were automatically enchanted by the bashful look on his face. From there on, for every single question he asked you, both of you had the exact opposite answers. For the longest time, your differences had felt charming, before they weren’t. 
Terry, on the other hand, shares so many similarities with you, beyond the strawberry ice cream betrayal. Both of you are outgoing, have a similar sense of humor, and like to be unabashedly yourselves. If a romance did ever blossom between you and Terry, if your friendship lasts your current heartbreak, you could be happy with him, maybe. You would never be insecure, worrying about what’s going on in his mind, because he would talk to you directly. You appreciate that so much about him. But whenever you look into his eyes, or whenever your hand accidentally brushes his, you don’t feel that electricity that had always coursed through you when you were with Minho. You’ve been searching for it everywhere since, but that spark just isn’t there; Taehyun’s just not Minho. Your heart calls out to Minho, no matter how much you wish it wouldn’t, and you can’t deny it any longer.
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If there’s one thing that Minho has learned in the duration of his college years, it’s that work has no tolerance for those special ailments of the heart. His professors don’t give a crap about the fact that his girlfriend dumped him, or that his girlfriend has now apparently moved on with some pink-haired stud. No matter how much he wants to slam his laptop screen down and fall asleep to the rhythm of his shattered heart, he knows he can’t. His term paper will not write itself, and it matters, especially since he’ll be graduating this year.
“What will you do when we graduate?” You set down your iPad, flexing your fingers.
“A job at a good company. And then one day, my own business.” That familiar, dreamy look mists Minho’s eyes. 
You smile at him. “My handsome CEO.”
Minho tapped your nose with his finger, following it with a soft kiss there. “You are so cute.”
“I know.” You peek down at his notebook that’s full of graphs and lengthy strings of numbers. “This looks complicated.”
“Welcome to the life of a business and economics double major,” Minho laughs. “But you’re literally a pre-med student. I’m not going to complain when you have to memorize human anatomy and random proteins.”
“Don’t remind me.” You dramatically shudder, giggling at Minho. “But I don’t care, as long as one day, you’re CEO Lee, and I’m Dr. Lee.”
Your words shock both you and Minho, invoking a moment of charged silence. You both have never talked about getting married before. But before you can backtrack, a slow smile spreads across Minho’s face. “Dr. Lee… has a ring to it, don’t you think?”
You turn a bright red, but lean into Minho, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “Definitely.”
Minho clears his throat and shakes yet another memory of you away, trying to concentrate on the email open in front of him. Just minutes ago, he’d received notice that he’d been chosen for a position at Google, following graduation. Fucking Google. Every business major would kill for a job at Google. And not only that, but his employer noted in the message that they usually don’t even extend offers this early in the year, but made an exception for him because they wanted him so much. 
For a moment, he forgot all about the angst of the previous day, giddily jumping off his bed in a rare display of emotion, even if nobody else was around. And then he reached for his phone, opening up your contact and preparing to type in a text to you; for months, you knew Minho was anxious about his application to Google. But then he remembers himself; he’s now someone in your past.
Minho swallows roughly, staring at the blank space where his response accepting the offer should be. A moment later, he decides he’ll respond to the email later. But he doesn’t even have any time to chide himself before he notices someone standing in front of him. 
“Minju?” 
She looks down at him, either oblivious to his confusion or choosing to ignore it. “Hey. Am I interrupting something?”
Minho nods, waiting for Minju to sit down and get settled into her chair, trying not to let his bewilderment show.
At Jihyo’s party, he had needed some air after that stupid game of Truth or Dare, and even worse, your reaction to the question asked of him. Minho had escaped to the balcony, hoping for a moment alone, when Minju approached him. When she launched into a conversation with him about school, Minho realized that you probably never told Minju about the break-up. So he excused himself as politely as he could, explaining that you and him both broke up. He never really considered Minju as his own friend, and did not expect Minju to pursue a relationship with him any further.
“I’ll get straight to the point, Minho.” Minju exhales, looking him directly in the eye. “I like you.”
Minho sits up immediately, shocked. “What did you just say?”
Minju purses her lips. “I like you, and I always have. Go out with me.”
Minho shakes his head in disbelief, the confusion fading into anger. “You’re Y/N’s friend. How could you do this to her? How can you even look at yourself?”
“You’re not together anymore, it doesn’t matter,” Minju says, her voice wavering.
He scoffs, packing up his belongings and shoving them carelessly into his bag. “Don’t talk to me again.”
Minju grabs the sleeve of Minho’s jacket as he turns to leave, desperation in her eyes. “Be with me instead. I’ll make you forget her.”
Minho shakes her free, giving her a look of both pity and disgust. “I still love her, and I always will.”
And with that, Minho leaves without looking back, walking slowly and deliberately in thought. Was this what you meant when you told him that you weren’t sure if you were the only one? Was Minju the reason for the love of his life leaving him? A strange mix of both fury and hope washes over Minho as he exits the library and breaks into a run, barely eight out of his eight-thousand word essay written.
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After you broke up with Minho, you forgot one very crucial detail: you didn’t unlink him from your Google calendar. One of the few things you both share in common is your organization, and when you were together, you both loved to plan things together and very ceremoniously add them to your shared online calendar. It became a game, trying to guess where the other was at random times, judging by their schedule. More often than not, the calendar proved to be a very useful tool in pinpointing each other’s locations. It’s why the brief surprise of seeing Minho standing outside your apartment door in the middle of the day on a weekday fades away quickly. You don’t have any classes scheduled today.
“Y/N,” he pants, leaning against the doorframe. 
“Minho. What are you doing here?” You cross your arms, resisting the urge to rush forward and hug him in all of his puffer coat glory. You used to make fun of him for that coat, all the time.
“I needed to see you. Minju told me,” Minho lowers his eyes, as if he’s nervous. “I need you to know that there was nothing going on with her. You have always been my only one. I promise. No one else. I miss you.”
Your heart wrenches in desire and nostalgia at the sincerity of his eyes. Of course you knew that he never cheated on you; this is Minho. But that’s not the reason why you have to remind yourself, once more, that you aren’t right for each other. Not in the long run. “I miss you too. And I know you didn’t cheat on me.”
Minho’s eyes fill with what you recognize as a mix of despair and tears, because after all, you’ve felt it in you too, before. “Then why? Why end it?”
“I feel like you don’t love me as much as I love you.”
The wheels turning inside of Minho’s mind and searching for possible reasons, immediately crash to a stop. “What?”
You shrug, drawing back your hands to tuck them into your lap, a habit that Minho has observed whenever you are nervous. “Remember when we were at that picnic with all of your friends? And Jisung and his girlfriend were also there? We were playing a question game.”
Minho nods slowly, still confused. “I do.”
“Felix had asked all the guys to think of why they love their girlfriends.” You look down at your hands, embarrassed. “Changbin had a whole list of reasons. But when it was your turn to speak, you had no answer.”
The recollection comes back to Minho like a tsunami. He hadn’t really ever thought much of that day; he always had trouble talking about personal things in front of other people, and he thought you already knew why he loved you. He didn’t know his inability to share something like that could hurt you so much, especially when he can write a whole book of reasons for why he loves you. Your smile. Your endless generosity. Your never ending patience for Minho’s antics. The way you always see the best in people, and how you light up the whole room when you walk in.
“Baby,” Minho starts, before realizing that he doesn’t have the right to call you that anymore. Reluctantly, he continues, using your name instead. “Y/N, I have trouble talking in front of other people. I love you so much, and if you know that, it’s all that really matters. A stupid game doesn’t change that.”
You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “But see, Minho, I don’t know. I don’t know how you’re feeling half the time. Felix’s question was just the icing on the cake. I’m exhausted from wondering. Wondering if you love me. Wondering if I really know you. Just wondering all the time. I shouldn’t feel that way.”
I’ll try harder to be more open. I’ll work on myself. I just— please believe me.”
“I do believe that you’ll try, Min. It’s who you are. But I can’t force you to be someone you’re not, and you can’t force me to want different things. We’ll only end up hurting each other more.” Your eyes fill with tears. “It hurts to love you.”
Minho flinches at your words, and he sees the sorrow in your eyes, but you say nothing to soothe the burn. Nevertheless, he keeps trying, as if he didn’t notice the determination written in your gaze as well. “I know I was senseless. But please— I’m begging you. Don’t do this. Don’t leave, not again.”
You look away from him, a single tear sliding down your cheek, as Minho tries to hold back his own. The whole scene feels disturbingly like a few days ago, when you broke up with him in Morningstar. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. 
“I tried to understand you. I did. But don’t you think that being senseless about everything that was going on also means that you were that indifferent towards me?” You scrub at your face to keep from crying even more.
Minho cringes, hearing the truth in your words. Once upon a time, he cherished the silence you both could share comfortably, working independently in the happy company of each other. Now the quiet hangs in the air like smog, a heavy uneasiness that he never imagined around you. “I really thought I could change. I swear.”
You nod, a brisk movement that doesn’t match the tears glistening on your face. “You should go now. Please.”
And you turn your head, as if you can’t bear to watch him any longer. Minho turns, his head hanging down like he’s a sinner. A small, ugly voice in Minho whispers that he truly is one, for hurting you and letting you go. It implores him to fall at your feet and stay, insisting, breaking at you until you crumble into his arms, taking him back. But the part of him that carries the resolve is stronger by a thread, the one that fuels his despondent retreat from your heart.
Later, holed away in the place he would now have to call his home, Minho is left alone in the bed that he’d once believed to belong to you as much as it did to him. The nights cuddled together and the mornings after, when you woke up to each other in a halo of sunlight, all fade away into the prickling solitude that now constitutes his new reality. There is nothing left for him to do now, except looking out at the sky through his tiny bedroom window, wondering if you were both gazing at the same moon in the separate worlds you both now are in. He’d left you one last message before promising himself that he’d never text you again, and thankfully, you never responded. He didn’t think you would.
catservant98: I’ll always love you.
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“The festival will end by the time we get there.” Jeongin lets out an exaggerated sigh, making a show of checking the watch on his wrist.
“Shut up. I need to lock this place up properly or my parents will kill me,” Seungmin mutters grumpily, as he carefully turns the key in the lock to Morningstar, taking his time. “It’s not my fault that I’m the owner’s son.”
Jeongin, donned in a Harley Quinn outfit, bounces on his toes in uncontained anticipation. “Hurry up!”
Seungmin tugs at the lock for good measure, before turning and swatting at Jeongin, who yelps and jumps out of the way. His detective hat, which he wore as a part of his Sherlock Holmes costume, falls off, and Jeongin grabs it. Usually, Minho would have laughed at the way Seungmin has started to chase Jeongin around, but he just glumly stares down at his sneakers, having no energy to join in. 
“You okay?” Chan notices Minho’s downcast gaze, slinging his arm around his shoulders. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
Minho shrugs with one shoulder, out of options. “I’m fine. I have nothing else to do anyway.”
Today is Halloween, your favorite holiday of the entire year. It seems especially cruel to him, to have to confront this day without you by his side. It was never much of his scene, and he’d always been reluctant to dress up, but one look from your pleading eyes and he’d fold, decking himself in a cheesy costume and feeding you all the candy you desired. The night would always end in you both binging horror movies together because you were too scared to watch alone. The memory of Minho getting distracted, just watching you hide behind your hands the entire time, used to bring a fond smile to his face. Today, it makes him want to smash something into bits.
“Let me know if you want to leave the festival early, though. Changbin can drive you home later.” Chan juts his chin out at Jeongin and Seungmin, who are now smacking at each other, while Changbin responsibly tries to pull them apart. “I have to make sure those two idiots don’t get in trouble.”
“Thanks. But you don’t have to worry about me.” Minho gives Chan a half-hearted smile. Chan looks hesitant, like he wants to keep talking with him, but he nods, focusing on the moonlit path in front of them. 
The roar of the annual Halloween festival that the university throws resonates throughout campus, drawing stressed students ready to throw aside their homework and party. But Minho is in anything but a celebratory mood; the last few weeks have been absolute agony. Ever since things fell apart. He just wants to go home and curl up into a ball under his covers, ready for this stupid night to be over. He didn’t even bother with a costume, choosing to stuff himself into his hoodie and make himself seem as small as possible. But he’s too tired to tell anyone, so he opts to stay quiet and gloomy on his own.
The gravel of the walkway crunches under their little group’s shoes, barely heard over the deafening sound of “Thriller” blasting on the DJ’s stereo. The entire main lawn of campus has been converted into a party space, crammed with different tents full of attractions, games, and souvenirs for students to indulge themselves in. There’s even a converted frat house that’s now a haunted house, as well as tables of snacks and lightsticks for people to wave around. Jeongin, Seungmin, and Changbin immediately zero in on the haunted house, running off to get tickets for it, leaving Minho and Chan alone. Two boys swaying together at the edge of the dance floor catch Minho’s eyes. He looks closer and notices that they both are dressed in an obvious couples costume, and it makes him think of you again— last year, he was Chucky and you were Tiffany Valentine, and you both won “Best Look” together, at the festival’s costume contest. Minho feels sick to his stomach.
“Oh my god, she’s stunning.” Chan’s eyes are wide, and Minho follows his gaze to a very pretty girl dressed in a white gown that seemed to float above her knees, two trailing pieces of fabric sticking out daintily from the back of her dress. An angel. 
She approaches him with a shy smile on her face, as she not-so-subtly checks out Chan’s own dracula costume. “You look good.”
“I— you’re pretty,” Chan stutters, and they both blush. 
Seriously?
“Thanks, Chris.”
Chan smiles lovingly at her. “You don’t have to call me Chris, you know. My friends call me Chan.”
“Chan,” the girl tests with a beam, before quirking her brow at him. “So I’m just a friend now? Not your girlfriend?”
“You drive me crazy, you know that?” 
And then they both start kissing right then and there, which doesn’t seem to faze anyone else around them, considering the fact that they are surrounded by other couples. Minho, however, has to look away, his stomach turning. Is this how everyone else felt when he used to kiss you, whenever and wherever he wanted? 
“Hey guys, I’m going to go find a place to sit,” Minho calls out to Chan, who barely notices in the midst of his make-out session. “You know what? Never mind.”
Cringing to himself, Minho makes his way over to the food tables, dodging at least five witches, seven ghouls, and six zombies on his way. He collapses onto the bench of an empty table with a groan, letting his head rest on the table before lifting it up like he’s been stung; the thump of the DJ’s bass seems to vibrate through the wooden tabletop, worsening his already horrible headache. What was he thinking, coming here?
“You seem to be enjoying yourself.”
Minho looks up, ready to lash out at the intruder, before he notices it’s Hyunjin. He is so out of it that he hadn’t even recognized his voice. “I thought you were staying home and painting tonight?”
“Thought about it, but I kept getting distracted by all of the noise outside, and thought I’d take a snack break.” Hyunjin plops down on the seat across from him, setting a plate loaded with brownies, potato chips, and cookies cut into pumpkin shapes. He’s dressed in plaid pajama pants and a baggy sweatshirt to fight the October chill, the only one besides Minho who hasn’t dressed up. “Want some?”
Minho shakes his head, watching Hyunjin dig in. “Can I ask you a question?”
Hyunjin nods, his cheeks stuffed with food. “Sure.”
“Don’t you ever get lonely?” Minho fiddles with the strings of his hoodie, feeling his face heat up. He was never one for sentiments like this, but even though he and Hyunjin have more of a seemingly lighthearted relationship, they’re more alike than they think in how deeply they care about each other. “I mean, you’ve never even had a serious relationship before, but you’re like the most hopeless romantic I’ve ever met. How does that even work?”
Hyunjin looks surprised, at first, but quickly smooths it away in understanding. “I do get lonely sometimes. But I just occupy myself with the things I love. Painting, reading. Just because I’m a hopeless romantic doesn’t mean I can’t be realistic. And I have been in a serious relationship before, remember?”
Minho frowns. “Oh. Right. What happened?”
He notices Hyunjin’s eyes flicker with something— grief, maybe. But the emotion is quickly replaced with indifference. Hyunjin shrugs. “Let’s just say it didn’t work out. I love a good romance novel, but is it real life? No. I don’t do relationships. Not anymore.”
Minho stays quiet, unknowing of what to say. He never thought of himself as a huge relationship person either, but then again, that was before he met you. You changed his perspective on a lot of things, and most of the time, he thought it was for the better. Now, he feels empty, alone. He wants to match costumes with someone, and go bobbing for apples together. And he wants that someone to be you, only you.
Hyunjin must have noticed Minho’s melancholic contemplation, because he gives him a sympathetic look. “Is this about Y/N?”
Minho’s chest tightens at the mention of your name. “I don’t know, honestly. I just want to go home.”
“Same. I just came for the free food.” Hyunjin chews on a brownie, before swallowing. “Let’s go after I finish eating.”
Minho hums in response, pulling his hood over his head, as the rest of their group comes to join the table. Chan and his girlfriend, unsurprisingly, are discussing plans about some upcoming event for the Student Council. Jeongin and Seungmin, on the other hand, are immersed in a gleeful recollection about the haunted house with Changbin, who is dressed up as Woody from Toy Story. Everyone seems to have a role except him.
“That was actually wild,” Jeongin says. “If Jisung was with us, he would have fainted when he saw the chainsaw guy!”
Seungmin shudders, while Changbin glances around their table. “Hey, where is Jisung, anyway? And Felix?”
Chan breaks away from his own conversation as his girlfriend pauses to eat her slice of cake. “He’s handing out candy to kids at home. Meanwhile, Felix is Trick-or-Treating.”
Jeongin snickers. “Trick-or-Treating? What is he, ten?”
Seungmin grins evilly at Changbin. “At least he doesn’t have the height of a ten year old.”
Changbin rolls his eyes, but chooses to ignore Seungmin and Jeongin’s high-five at his expense, instead turning to Hyunjin. “Can I have a cookie? There are no more left.”
Hyunjin gives him a judgemental glare, but passes a cookie over anyway. “Where’s your girlfriend, by the way?”
Changbin stuffs half of the entire cookie into his mouth, licking the frosting on his lip. “She has work. But we’re going to meet up later tonight and watch movies. Wanna come?”
Hyunjin shakes his head. “I’m good. Minho and I are headed home soon anyway. Right, Minho?”
But Minho isn’t paying attention. His gaze is locked on none other than you and Taehyun, dressed in Hogwarts robes— you in Gryffindor, and Taehyun in Slytherin. He’s seen multiple people tonight sporting similar getups, and so both of you wearing Hogwarts robes doesn’t exactly entail a couples costume, but it makes his heart clench either way. Both of you are standing near the apple bobbing station, laughing and talking animatedly together. It hurts to see you enjoying yourself, while Minho has to struggle to keep himself together, to keep from breaking down on the spot. It hurts that he’s not the one matching with you right now, the one to be making you laugh, holding you on one of your favorite days of the year.
He watches as you and Taehyun walk closer to the haunted house. Your smile has now faded into an unsure expression, skeptical and tinged with fear. Taehyun puts his arm around your shoulders, evidently trying to assure you, before he leads you inside the house. Minho immediately springs up from the bench, fists balled up at his sides. You love everything about Halloween, except for one thing. You hate being in the dark, and so you had always avoided the haunted houses at every Halloween festival or any other event that you and Minho went to. Obviously, Taehyun doesn’t have a clue about your boundaries, and as always, you’re too kind to point them out.
Ignoring Hyunjin’s confused protests, Minho stalks after you and Taehyun, even though he knows that he should sit right back down. He told himself that he’d stay away from you if you didn’t want him, but if he even gets the slight sense that you are afraid, he’ll throw all reason out the window. He won’t let you go inside, not without him.
“Excuse me— you can’t go in right now. The haunted house is at full capacity.” The ticket collector stops Minho even though he shows her the ticket that Jeongin had passed out to everyone before. “Just wait for a few minutes for someone to come out.”
But he can’t. Not if you’re already inside. Minho steps back for a moment, and the collector glances back down at her phone. Before the collector can react, he rushes past her, running inside. She calls after him angrily, but he barely hears her. All he can register is the racing beat of his heart, and the faint screams deeper inside, wondering if one of them could be you. 
He whips past the ax-wielding maniacs and the corpse brides in tattered dresses, pushing past their horrible acting and all of the other props in his way to you. Minho feels his hoodie snagged against a cloud of fake cobwebs, and the fake blood on the walls is enough to make him gag, but he goes on. A desperate search in nearly every nook and corner yields nothing, and Minho curses the haphazard quality of the setup, nearly tripping over a loose wire. As he passes through a room decorated like a murderous hospital room, he hears a small whimper from behind the fake operating table. 
His senses perk up and there you are, sitting down with your knees drawn to your chest. With how his eyes have now adjusted to the dark, he can faintly make out your crouched body and the shine of your flowing tears. Immediately, he gets onto his knees, and envelopes you with his arms, firmly pulling you against his chest.
“Y/N, it’s me,” he murmurs, the scent of your coconut shampoo blocking out the stench of ammonia.
“Terry and I got chased by one of the ghosts and then got separated,” you mumble as you cry, shivering in his arms as he begins to rock you slowly. “I’m so scared, Minho.”
Minho looks at the tears still leaking down the sides of your face, and has to restrain himself from the instinct to kiss them away. Instead, he puts a steady hand to your skin, gently wiping them away. In this moment, you aren’t broken up. He isn’t your ex-boyfriend, and you aren’t his ex-girlfriend. You are the girl he loves, and him the very soul that has so vehemently devoted himself to even at such a ripe age, an inspiration and a shame to the vengeful spirits that govern your favorite holiday.
“I’m here now. I’m not going to leave you.” Minho gazes down at you. “Are you still frightened?”
You shake your head no, wide eyes clinging to his comforting presence. Minho gives you a small smile, rubbing your jaw softly with his thumb, a movement that doesn’t feel as inherently romantic as it generally would be. “See? You’re not afraid of the dark. You’re just scared of being alone in it. And that goes away when you realize something. You’re never really alone.” 
Both of you just gaze at each other in the dark for a few minutes, saying both nothing and yet everything to each other. He carefully rests his palm against your heart, gaging the beat until it slows down to its usual calm. Wordlessly, he helps you onto your feet, his arms still wrapped around you as you both navigate the maze of the haunted house. You don’t encounter any other of the actors, but at one point, you jump in Minho’s hold, spooked by the amplified horror sound when passing by a speaker. Steadily, you both make your way out together.
The first thing Minho sees as he steps out of the exit is the array of blinding lights that shine on his face, in addition to the glow of the raging bonfire that has now been set up for students to roast marshmallows. Then he catches that shock of pink hair in the small crowd gathered outside of the haunted house; Taehyun, distress written all over his features as he speaks to the security guards.
You and Minho, however, stay frozen on the spot, just staring at each other with a fresh uncertainty. Realizing himself, Minho lets go of you. Contrary to how you felt, Minho could always read you like a book. He practically memorized all of your expressions, able to tell how you were feeling in an instant. But the indecipherable look you give him is baffling, but before you can open your mouth and say something, Taehyun notices your arrival.
“Y/N!” Taehyun immediately rushes over, his breathing labored from sprinting the distance to you. “I’m so, so sorry; I lost you and tried to come back inside to find you, but they wouldn’t let me!”
Minho steps to the side awkwardly as Taehyun hugs you tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. Your tears are long gone, and you pat his back softly, giving him the comfort of your safety. “I’m alright, Terry. It’s all good.”
Taehyun pulls back to look at you, before turning to Minho, surprise and confusion on his features as if just registering Minho’s presence. You clear your throat, placing a hand on Taehyun’s arm. “Hey, could you give us a minute?”
“Sure. Of course,” Terry says, the stress on his face softening as he looks down at you. Minho recognizes it— it’s how he always imagined himself to look whenever he saw you.
You turn back to Minho as Terry walks away to a food stand, presumably to get you a warm drink. “Minho, I—”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Minho interrupts, unable to bear any more. He chokes back a sob, his eyes trained on your pained expression. “I need to go.”
“Minho, wait!” You grab his arm, and it places you both in the uncomfortable déjà vu of when everything ended. 
He looks back at you, swallowing his dread and pushing away the angsty alert of his brain, the command to let everything go and just take you back, then and there. But he wouldn’t be the man you had always loved, then. Not if he takes advantage of you when you’re like this, vulnerable and exhausted. Not when there’s a perfectly good man standing at a distance, hesitantly holding a cup of hot chocolate for you. Not when he knows that he’s lost his chance of ever getting you back from the moment he gave up on you both. Minho realizes that he doesn’t have the right to call you his anymore, when you’ve finally found a man who prioritizes you over his pride and his insecurities— a man who will treat you right, and will never make you wonder if you’re his only one. All he’s ever wanted is for you to be happy. That has to be enough for him. It will be.
Minho leans down before you can protest, kissing you on your forehead softly. You stay silent, looking up at him with those wide, inquisitive eyes, the very ones he fell in love with. “Stay smiling, always.”
And with that, Minho finally walks away, willing himself not to cry as he tries not to think of his heart breaking.
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You watch Minho, dazed, as he walks away for the second and last time. It feels worse, somehow, than when he left your apartment, weeks ago. Minho had spoken to you so gently, inside the haunted house, calming you down in spite of the fact that you had so cruelly broken up with him, and then he proceeded to wish you his best, before leaving. You didn’t miss that note of finality in his voice, the one that told you that he wasn’t going to go back on his word. He had let you go.
You barely notice Terry approaching you, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
He hands you a cup of hot chocolate, as you stare at Minho’s retreating back before it finally disappears within the crowd of partygoers. “Everything’s fine. Thanks for this, Terry.”
Terry blinks at you, slightly unfocused. “Yeah of course. But… can I ask you something?”
You nod, sipping the hot chocolate. It’s so warm and sweet, and it feels wrong to be drinking it. It feels like you don’t deserve it. 
He hesitates for a moment, before speaking up. “What happened in there? In the haunted house?”
You bite your lip, still distracted by the thought of Minho; Terry’s question doesn’t pull at you as much as it probably should. “He just found me and helped me back. That’s all.”
Terry looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t, and you don’t question it. The rest of the night is clouded by an awkward rut that has originated from nowhere at all, one that you never guessed you’d experience with Terry. He walks you back to your apartment early, and waits next to you as you fumble with your keys. 
“Good night, Y/N,” he says softly, as you finally wrestle your door open. 
“Thanks,” you whisper back, too drained of energy to make one of the usual jokes traded when you both say goodbye. He tips his head at you like he always does, albeit in a less jaunty way, and steps into the apartment elevator at the end of the hall, flashing you one last little wave before the doors close. 
You turn back to your apartment, walking inside and locking the door behind you once again. This time, you don’t go straight to your bedroom and drop onto your bed, like you always do after a horrible day. Instead, you stalk over to the kitchen, which is illuminated by a single, flickering lightbulb. You tug open the freezer, fishing out a box from your emergency stash of ice cream, the one thing bound to be on stock at all times. When you went grocery shopping some time ago, you didn’t think that a crisis would hit so soon. 
Cracking open the lid of the chocolate ice cream, you take your scooper and place a bowl on the counter. After a second thought, you take out your blender as well, and scrape the ice cream into there instead, throwing in some milk and peanut butter as well. Tonight is a milkshake kind of night, you think, the kind that necessitates butterscotch chips and whipped cream as well, you note, opening the cupboard to get said ingredients. When you finish blending, you pour your icy salvation into a large tumbler and collapse onto the living room couch. You turn on the television, blankly staring at the screen while barely registering the dialogue playing. 
“That’s not a milkshake— that’s diabetes in a glass.” 
“Don’t knock it ‘till you’ve tried it.” You shoot Minho a pointed look as you chug down your shake, savoring the sound of Minho’s laughter even more than a hefty peanut butter and chocolate combo. 
It isn’t until you taste saltiness instead of the sweet milkshake that you realize you’re crying. 
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callmeterry: can we meet? bobaluvrr: yes. see u @ morningstar
You stare into the bathroom mirror, checking your face one last time, inspecting it for bloodshot eyes and dry skin, the telltale signs of the tears that have now become a habit over the past few days. Ever since Halloween, things haven’t been the same since you and Terry. Although a fairly new friendship, you both spent a significant amount of time together after meeting at Jihyo’s birthday party. However, you haven’t seen each other at all outside of Writing Seminar nowadays— probably because during class, you’re too busy staring at Minho, who won’t even spare you a single glance. You’re determined to at least save your friendship with Terry, which is why you are so quick to agree to meet him.
“Catch you two later,” you call out to Sunoo and Soyeon, who both are slumped on the couch, watching One Piece over boxes of takeout butter chicken. 
The journey to Morningstar doesn’t take long, especially since the vastly approaching night has gotten you nearly jogging, regardless of how safe your college campus is. Although it’s been nearly a month and a half, you still can’t get used to not having the security and comfort of your boyfriend. Serves you right, you think.
You enter through the glass doorway of Morningstar, the door chime ringing and announcing your entrance to Terry. He stands up from the table he’s sitting at, walking over to you with the  genuine smile that you were fearful of not being able to see again. Terry looks heartbreakingly handsome, dressed in a long brown coat and wool scarf, an ode to the plaid shirt days and hot chocolate nights that you know you could have with him.
“Hi,” he says, pausing his gait when he’s a few feet away from you. Tentative, but still Terry. The bouquet of assorted flowers in his hands, however, isn’t. 
You can literally feel your face fall, as you stare at the certainly expensive arranged red roses and lilies. “I—”
“Don’t.” Terry’s smile doesn’t fade, but the slight sheen of moisture to his eyes is new. “ I know. I’d rather not hear you say it. Please.”
You’re speechless as he hands you the flowers, the refreshingly floral scent wafting up and screaming at you to wake up. You had a feeling, you knew how Terry felt about you. But you didn’t think he’d act on those feelings so soon.
“You know, I’ve been in love with you since August. You walked into the very first day of class late, wearing this gorgeous pink dress— and God, I was so whipped. I even dyed my hair the same color.” Terry laughs lightly, but you can see the heaviness in his eyes, the same thing that you feel in your chest. “I didn’t approach you, though, because I saw the way you were looking at Minho.”
You shake your head, still in disbelief. “Terry…”
“And then you walked into the kitchen at that party; it felt like a sign. But that can’t have been true, because the way you looked at him didn’t change. It never will.” He stops for a moment, taking in a shaky breath. “When you both broke up, I ignored my heart telling me not to dig myself deeper into this, to leave you alone. But I couldn’t, Y/N, because I thought that the risk would be worth it. And it was, you know. You are worth it.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, at a loss for words. You don’t know what else to say, whether it’s a reaction to how your friend is pouring out his heart to you, or the fact that he’s always known that you’d never be his.
The smile on Terry’s face is now a sharp contrast to the strings of tears that mar it. “Don’t be. It’s Minho. It’s always been Minho for you.” 
He turns, but you rush forward and block him. You can’t lose someone else. Not again. “Terry, wait! Can’t we be friends?” 
“Of course we can be. I’d rather have you as a friend than not in my life at all. I’ll move on, eventually. But you have to go fix things with him now.” He flashes you another one of his signature beams. It doesn’t have the same joyful effect on you as it usually does, now that it’s tainted with sadness. “I’ll see you next class. Hold onto him, okay?”
Terry leaves, and you stare after him at the door, dumbfounded, haunting the entryway of the coffee shop nearing closing hours. You never saw this confrontation coming, not today. And you didn’t want it to happen any time soon, not like this. But no matter how much you want to deny Terry’s words, you know they are the truth. You know what you have to do. Because love works in strange ways, you realize, and now yours needs to be made right.
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“We shouldn’t be here.” You say, shaking your head. “It’s dangerous.”
Minho just stares at you, his eyebrow skeptically quirked in a way that shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. “It’s literally just a bridge.”
You glare at him, before looking out at the arched walkway that connects the wooded expanse of the university library to the rest of campus. According to university lore, any pair of lovers that walks over Forsaken Bridge together is doomed to suffer an untimely separation; hence, its ominous name. And you would rather look stupid for believing in superstition rather than risk losing Minho. 
“It can’t be.” You cross your arms stubbornly. “I know so many couples that came here, and they ended up breaking up.”
Minho says nothing for a moment, just pondering your words, and you think he’s about to step back, allowing you to cross the bridge first, before following on his own. But then he grabs your hand, pulling you towards the bridge.
Your immediate reaction is to let out a small scream that cuts through the quiet night, and it’s quickly muffled by Minho’s hand gently closing over your mouth. “Trust me on this. Nothing bad will happen.”
You really want to remind Minho of what happened to Hyunjin and his girlfriend— well, ex-girlfriend— but you let him lead you towards your dreaded destination. Because you do trust him, more than anything. 
The balmy summer night sticks to your skin, a feeling that will soon give away to the crisp bite of autumn. You’ve already moved back onto campus to get a headstart on the teaching assistant position for your biology professor, but for the first time ever, you don’t feel sad or apprehensive at the thought of going back to college again. This was the gap in time that you once despised because it signaled the unfortunate trudge of school life: textbooks, homework, and stress. But nowadays, you think it to be a reminder of something better: Minho, Minho, and Minho.
Your boyfriend takes an easy step onto the bridge, his hand tightly clasped in yours. You trail after him more cautiously, hiding behind his broad frame like the bridge will come alive and attack you. “You better not ever break up with me, Lee Minho.”
He turns back to look at you as you both near the center of the supposedly cursed bridge, his lips pressed together in a way that suggests concealed laughter; knowing him, it probably is. “Never. Now close your eyes.”
With a grumpy sigh, you oblige him, shutting your eyes. “For what, Minho?”
“I need to tell you something.” His voice is soft, almost vulnerable. It’s a new color to him, compared to how assured and confident he always seems to be.
You crack open one eye, looking at him curiously. “What is it?”
He frowns, letting go of your hand. “No peeking!”
“Okayy.”
Minho takes a deep breath, right before he turns your world upside down. “I love you.”
Your eyes fly open, and Minho doesn’t complain this time, only gazing at you nervously, clutching his right arm with his left hand like he’s a little kid again. “What did you just say?”
Regardless of his uncertain body language, he looks you directly in the eye. “I love you, Y/N. And I know it’s too soon to say it, but it’s true. I love you, and you don’t have to tell me back, but—”
“I love you too,” you blurt out, and you both just stare at each other for a moment, in mutual shyness and surprise. You can’t believe how good it feels to finally say the words that were hanging off the tip of your tongue for the past few months since you started dating.
Minho’s beautiful face breaks out into a dazzling smile as he steps closer to you. “Then let’s make our own story for this bridge. Two people crossing the bridge together will be lifelong friends. And if they kiss, lifelong lovers.”
Your poor, racing heart can’t take anymore of this; what a man that you have found. “Kiss me, then.” 
Minho gives you a tender look, and in that moment, you wish you had a camera to capture it. You can’t seem to remember your initial fear of coming onto this bridge, not when you have a beautiful boy who gazes at you with nothing short of absolute adoration. You’ll follow him anywhere, if it means you’ll stay together. Always and forever.
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From when you were a little girl, your parents painted fairy tales for you in your childhood bedroom, of handsome princes mounted on midnight stallions and towering castles set against sunsets. For the longest time, you thought them to be true, because by the time you might have grown up, you found your own handsome prince, who rode a secondhand bike instead of a horse, and his castle was the sweatshirt-strewn dorm room he shared with two other boys. Nevertheless, you so strongly believed you would get your own happily-ever-after, that it took you a long time to accept the thorns in the rosy brush that constituted your outlook on life. You had a hard time understanding your prince, sometimes, and ended up spinning your own stories to fill in the gaps you thought he created. It never once occurred to you that life would never be perfect, and that your prince could not be exactly who you dreamed him to be.
It’s why you stroll the length of Forsaken Bridge alone, materializing its dreary name with your head bent and hands tucked in your pockets. But you’re not surprised either, when you see your prince, standing on the very place where he made you a promise that you broke yourself. His crown is misplaced and his armor has lost its luster, but he’s your beautiful prince, still beautiful while heartbroken over you.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” you say softly. 
“I shouldn’t have.” Minho stares at the deteriorating timber planks beneath your feet. “But I can’t say no when it comes to you.”
You shake your head, sniffling lightly. You both hate and love him for being so understanding, so kind, even now. You hate yourself for it, too. “I broke your heart.”
Minho blinks, clasping his hands in front of himself. “There are so many things that I’m sorry and thankful to you for, but you know I’m not good at expressing myself.”
“That’s my line, Min.” You scoff through your tears. “I tried to force you to be someone you're not. And you respond by taking care of me, like you always have. And you listened to me instead of fighting. You walked away.”
“I wanted you to be happy. That’s all I have ever wanted. With or without me in the picture.” Minho shoots you a watery smile. “I love you, you know. I always will.”
You inhale shakily. “And I love you too. I was scared of being hurt because I love you so much. I shouldn’t have been so afraid of what I didn’t know. I should have tried to ask you instead of coming to assumptions on my own.”
“We’re in this together, okay?” Minho steps forward towards you, reaching up to hold your face in his hands. “Remember what I said? You never have to be alone. I’m right here, always.”
Minho rubs his thumbs over your tears, nothing but devotion in his eyes. You touch his arms, pulling him into a hug. “I know I ruined everything, but please come back to me? I’m so, so sorry.”
“Me too. And you ruined nothing.” He squeezes you. “We still have our whole lives ahead of us.”
You draw back from the embrace, smiling through your tears— for once, they’re the good kind. “I love you, Lee Minho. Let’s start over?”
“I love you too, Y/N.” Minho whispers, a grin slowly spreading on his face. “And I don’t want to ruin the moment, but can we begin by finding an apartment, please? If I accidentally drink Hyunjin’s paint water one more time I think I will literally die.”
You laugh, raising your eyebrows at him teasingly. “Only because you want to escape Hyunjin? Not because you love me?”
He rolls his eyes playfully, a light blush tinting his pale skin. “You know what I mean.”
“You should show me what you mean.”
“I should.”
Minho obeys your command, leaning down to meet your lips in a chaste kiss, before you grasp his waist, pulling him closer and deepening the movement. God, you missed this so much. You missed him, so much. Minho’s hands reach up to cup your neck as you trace endless love letters on each other’s lips, campus curses and bad faith banished from your lovestruck young minds.
“See? Looks like our story came true.” he whispers as you come up for air, nudging your nose sweetly with his own. “Lifelong lovers, we’ll be.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” Minho kisses you once more and pulls back, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “This means forever.”
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Check out the rest of boys' stories on Love Playlist!
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«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» 
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
It feels so good to get back to Love Playlist <3 This whole series itself was inspired by the cute, college au vibes of the K-drama Love Playlist and its spinoff, Dear M. (starring NCT's Jaehyun, a must-see), but this story especially was heavily based on Dear M.'s second leads. Brownie points if you've noticed which hit superhero TV series I took a piece of dialogue from! I just adore that quote so much. Anyway, I'm a sucker for Minho and this story has a special place in my heart. Can you guess who is next?! And thank you for supporting me, always! -Dreamy
P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡
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TAGLIST @chansburgah @hamburgers101@ajxreads @hash2013 @pixigreen @ana-marais98@ohish@chizumiyoshi@lilydaisyyy@jetblackbelle @143hyunes @yeahhspider
Network: @kflixnet
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©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.
387 notes · View notes
skzwritingcafe · 1 year
Text
White Lines and Red Lights (18+)
♡ Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader 
♡ Genre: college au, idiots in love (they are so oblivious), best friends to lovers, mutual pining, basically pure fluff, a smidge of angst? (it's barely there, mostly due to perceived one-sided pining that is in reality not at all one-sided lmao)
♡ Word Count: 13.4k (i may have gotten carried away)
♡ Summary: The spring semester is over, and summer break is sure to be full of fun and good memories for Y/N and her best friend, Jisung. The only problem being, they are both hopelessly in love with each other, and completely oblivious to how the other one feels.
♡ Warnings: reader's major isn't specified but is implied to be creative, jisung's major is also not specified but is in music, alcohol consumption, mentions of food and eating, many uses of the word "fuck" lol, lmk if i missed anything you think should be listed here !
♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): slightly inexperienced sex (neither reader or jisung are virgins, but they don't have tons of experience either), lighthearted but also romantic sex?, petnames (baby), a lot of kissing. like so much kissing, nipple play, handjob, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected piv, creampie (reader is on birth control)
♡ Notes: this was written for the @skzwritingcafe prompt "summertime confessions" ! i hope you like it and as usual, if you’re interested you can check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
Hell is finally over! That’s what you’ve been happily telling yourself since 2:30 pm, when the last of your final exams were complete and all assignment deadlines were met. Did you reach the end of all your trials and tribulations with a passing grade? That you weren’t entirely sure of, but the instant relief when the clock met the fated hour expelled any worries instantly from your mind. It’s a problem for future you, your brain decided, because now there was room for one thing and one thing only: fun!
You were beyond ready to turn your brain off, to indulge in some much needed fun to clear the fog in your head, and to then settle into comfort and relaxation. You hadn’t had a moment of joy or peace in weeks, and you were most definitely due for it; the thin line that was your sanity could only handle so much more stress before it snapped. 
And that’s what you’ve spent the last hour getting ready for- an end of semester celebration with friends, a small reward after the grueling study efforts intended to revitalize those that turned into zombies over the course of finals week. Parties aren’t typically your thing, being much too loud and chaotic for your tastes, but how could you say no when said party was being held by your best friend and his 2 roommates? And after the literal hell you endured during the last semester, and especially during this last week, you needed a night with your friends more than you needed oxygen. 
“You’re here!” Chan greets you with a smile after he opens the door, happy to see you after weeks of being stuck in the confines of your bedroom, having turned into an effective study machine. “Hi Channie,” you return his smile as you step fully inside, giving him a quick hug after the door shuts behind you. “Where’s Jisung?” you waste no time in asking, eager to see the person you cared about most (no offense intended to your other friends.)
It felt awful not having time to see him the last few weeks; the only thing that gave you comfort during that time was knowing that he was equally as busy meeting assignment deadlines and studying for his finals as you were. You wished you could’ve studied together, like you did when you were kids, but different majors meant there wasn’t as much crossover in what you were learning as there once was. But still, you took solace in knowing you weren’t alone during the struggle; at least, metaphorically you weren’t. 
Chan points you to the kitchen, and you thank him before you make the short walk there, a bounce in your step as happiness settles over you for the first time in what feels like ages. It doesn’t take you long to spot him, standing near the counter with his other roommate Changbin, as well as with a handful of other friends he’s made in his major.
“Sungie, I missed you!” you call as you jump him for a hug, which very nearly knocks him over. He yells out in surprise, just barely managing to keep his hand steady to save his drink as he shifts his weight to maintain his balance, stabilizing himself on his heel. “Y/N!” Jisung yelps when your arms squeeze him tightly, and he lets Changbin take his drink from his hand to safely secure it elsewhere. 
He returns your hug as soon as he’s able, and you close your eyes before you smile at him, already feeling your drained battery recharging. “Jeez, I know you missed me, but warn me next time! You almost gave me a heart attack,” Jisung mumbles his complaint in your ear, but you can tell by the smile he has on his face and squeeze in his arms that he’s missed you just as much, this hug being as healing for him as it is for you. 
However, he meant it when he said you almost gave him a heart attack, though it’s not for the reasons you might think. First: it’s true he was totally unprepared for you to launch at him with the intent to squeeze him into a hug, but that wasn’t the problem. The real problem was that you looked so pretty, and after weeks without seeing your face, his heart was left with no defense against your charms. 
He’d been reset to zero, it seemed- his built up resistance and tolerance reduced to nothing. And that went hand in hand with the second problem: his heart was beating out of control! You’re holding him so tightly, smiling at him so brightly, eyes sparkling under the fluorescence of the mundane kitchen light. He didn’t understand how something as small and trivial as the lighting in the room seemed to add to your appeal, but it did. 
Jisung steals a glance at his roommates, who are looking with a knowing smile that makes him want to sink into himself and hide. Why is this so embarrassing? You however seem as oblivious to how he feels about you as ever, much to his relief. His impossibly large crush on you will assuredly be getting the way tonight, but he can definitely play this off the rest of the evening, right? …right? 
-
Jisung ended up not drinking for the rest of the night, much too afraid of how flippant his mouth would become if he had too much alcohol in his system- the last thing he needed was to do something as cliche and embarrassing as drunkenly confessing all his feelings to his best friend. Though, even without the drink in his system, this night was killing him.
Why did you have to smile at him so prettily while pulling him to dance with you? Why did you have to giggle at him so sweetly when he made a joke? And why did you have to lean so close every time you spoke to him? He cursed his past self for deciding to play the music so loudly, because the close proximity and feeling your breath against his ear every time you wanted to tell him something was making his heart feel like it was going to explode. 
You were wearing the perfume that he once accidentally let slip was his favorite of yours- he couldn’t remember the exact name of it, but the sweet, citrusy smell filled his nostrils and reminded him of all the times in the past he was close enough to you to inhale it. Tight hugs, cuddling on his sofa on the weekends, laying in your bed watching anime until it was time for him to go home- all memories he cherished, because they were spent with you. 
And the moment he unintentionally admitted how much he loved the smell of your perfume, it seemed like you were always wearing it, and it drove him crazy. It lingered on everything- or maybe he just found it easy to recognize given how attuned to you he was; and now with the distance you’d had, and how much he’d missed you the last few weeks, it was like your perfume was taking over his senses.
Jisung almost couldn’t think straight- it was like he was drunk, but on something entirely different from everyone else inside his apartment. To calm himself down, and reset his senses, he stepped out on the balcony for some time, willing his heart to calm by using the fresh air as a conduit. 
By the time Jisung enters the apartment again following his latest balcony outing, most of his friends have gone home with their respective designated drivers, with Chan offering to call the stragglers an uber or a spot to crash somewhere in the apartment. Chan was always like that during parties- the self appointed dad of sorts, always making sure everyone was well taken care of.
He looks past his friends to see you alone on the sofa, chugging a water bottle that he assumes Chan gave to you. “Trying to sober up?” Jisung asks as he takes a seat next to you, and you nod, making an affirming noise as you continue to take large sips from the bottle. “Gotta stay hydrated too if I don’t want to feel all this tomorrow,” you finally respond when you’ve swallowed down the last of the water, though you're sure you didn’t drink enough alcohol to get a hangover; your legs will likely be killing you more than anything, given all the dancing and jumping around you did. 
“Right, wouldn’t want you to end up like Changbin,” Jisung replies and you laugh as you recall the memory of a very intoxicated Changbin, who had way too much to drink in a short span of time but insisted he wasn't drunk. He was incredibly affectionate, coming up to everyone to squeeze them into hugs and tell them he loves them, and dancing to girl group songs with so much passion that you’d think he was in some sort of idol audition. 
Changbin passed out first, to no one's surprise, and he had to be carried to his bed by an exasperated Chan while you and Jisung giggled to yourselves at the display, deciding you would both definitely be teasing him about it tomorrow. “I’ve never seen him like that- he was still himself but like. Times a million,” you laugh, thinking about when a newjeans song came on and it made him effectively lose his mind.
“Oh it’s late,” you say absentmindedly after some time spent talking passes, checking your phone for the first time all night. Jisung peeks over, eyes widening when he sees the “02:37” displayed brightly on your screen. It was the latest he’d (voluntarily) stayed up in months; where did the time even go? “Guess we should sleep, huh? I can give you my bed, I’ll sleep here so-” 
“No way, we’ve talked about this before! I don’t wanna kick you out of your own room- just share your bed with me,” you said, almost sternly. It was true- you both had countless sleepovers over the course of your friendship, both planned and accidental, and every time he offered to sleep on the sofa, you vehemently refused. However, those times you weren’t inebriated, and this time you definitely were (even if it was only mildly.) And besides that, with how weak he’s been over you all night, he’s not sure if his heart will even let him fall asleep if you’re next to him. 
“I-I mean- are you sure? You’ve been drinking so.. I dunno, I just like- didn't want it to be weird.. I guess?” Jisung stumbles over his words way more than he wishes, and the way you giggle at him makes him want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Way to play it cool, Jisung! If you weren’t being obvious about your feelings before, you definitely are now, idiot!
“C’mon Ji, you know I trust you with like, my entire life. It won’t be weird,” you answer with a smile meant to assure him, but all it does is make his heart pound even harder. It’s unfair how effortlessly flustered you make him. “As long as you’re sure then- yeah, let’s go to bed,” he says as he helps you to your feet, and while you definitely didn’t drink enough for your legs to be unstable, you appreciate the sweet gesture. 
The minute you’re in his room, you flop right in the middle of his bed, a large sigh leaving you- you didn’t realize how actually exhausted you are until now. “Don’t fall asleep like that please, I don’t wanna sleep on the couch now that you’ve promised I can have my bed,” Jisung says as he walks over to his dresser, and you laugh in response. “I won’t, promise!” You sit up quickly, wrapping yourself up in his comforter as you do- you won’t fall asleep, but you can at least still be cozy.
“You really should’ve brought a change of clothes if you were going to crash here,” Jisung jokingly complains you as he scrounges through his drawers for something that will fit you comfortably (and that he won’t mind parting with, because he knows he won’t be getting back whatever he gives you; which would be fine if it didn’t fill his head with thoughts about you being his girlfriend.) 
“Not my fault! It’s yours for creating the atmosphere,” you argue, arms folding over your chest in a rather mild display of opposition. “What atmosphere?” he laughs as he finally settles on one of his oversized shirts and tosses it over to you. Comfortable. Secure. Safe. Happy. Loved. Cared for. You could only let loose so much because you were with him, could only have such a good time because he was there doing it with you.
“..Fun,” you finally answer, clutching the shirt he gave you in your hands, deciding not to say anything further than that. Better to avoid that line of thought while you’re recovering from being tipsy, you think- it’d be bad if you suddenly made an admission you weren’t ready to. An accidental confession at this point would risk ruining an otherwise perfect night with your friends.
It doesn’t take long for Jisung to find what he wants to wear to bed, and he leaves the room to allow the two of you to change separately. You put your prior outfit on top of his dresser before returning to his bed, settling underneath the blankets as you wait for him to come back. You’re lying there for only a few minutes when he returns, turning off the light and carefully crawling in next to you, and finally settling in with his back pressed against yours. You both whisper quiet “good nights” to each other, willing your equally fast hearts to calm enough to sleep.
This isn’t the first time you’ve shared a bed with Jisung, and during the early years of your childhood friendship it never made your heart race the way it does now. You’d usually say something along the lines of “what’s wrong with best friends sharing a bed?”, the act always completely innocent. You needed to sleep, and you didn’t want Jisung to sacrifice his bed when you could easily share it- it was always as simple as that.
But in recent months, you’ve noticed that it stopped being simple; with your back pressed to his, the sound of his gentle breathing behind you, you realized it had started to make your heart race unbelievably fast. You had begun to notice that same sensation in other moments too- like when he smiled at you after you helped him decide on a concept for one of his assignments, or when he’d call you after a hard day just to hear your voice, with his reason being that “talking to you makes me feel better!” 
It was the same for you, of course. Talking to him always made you feel better, a single smile enough to lift the heavy weight off your heart. He always listened, he always cared, and he was always there for you. That’s another reason these last few weeks were so hard for you; you didn’t have Jisung’s support, and not because of any fault of either of you, but because adult life and responsibilities got in the way. 
You wanted to make time for him, and you knew he wanted to as well; you still texted each other often, facetimed during the moments you allowed yourselves to rest, and it helped immensely, but also resolidified something you’d thought once before; that without Jisung, your life is impossibly dark. And that without his support, you weren’t sure how you’d get through the difficulty that life brings you. 
You sigh and roll over, looking straight at Jisung’s back. You came today to escape grim thoughts, stress, and self doubt, hoping that fun with your friends would shove them all away, but it seems they’ve found their way back to you regardless. It was bound to happen, you suppose, but you hoped they wouldn’t be back for a while at least. But, if there’s any solace to be had, you have Jisung next to you, and he always comforts you even with just his presence alone. 
You roll over a lot in your sleep, so when you first do it, Jisung doesn’t react. He figures you’ve just fallen asleep quickly after all the drinking and dancing, and now he can finally truly relax and begin to fall asleep himself. He’s always tense at first, the close proximity making him nervous and unable to sleep, even if you aren’t face to face- because even though you’re his best friend, it’s an undeniable fact that you’re also a girl. A pretty girl at that, one that he’s silently been crushing on for years.
So when he hears your voice call to him, it’s unexpected, and it makes his heart pick back up in speed as his body tenses once again. “Ji, can you turn around?” you ask, and he freezes a moment, wondering if the remnants of alcohol in your system is what is causing you to ask something so bold. 
But no, you’re nowhere near drunk, and he’s probably the only one on earth who thinks the prospect of turning around to face his best friend during a sleepover is “bold.” This is an ordinary request, and it’s not your fault that he finds the action so nerve wracking. He really needs to get over it so he can go back to being normal around you. “S-Sure,” you hear him stutter quietly, carefully turning to face you. 
Even in the relative darkness, he can see your features clearly enough to make his breath uneven. Your pretty eyes, your cute nose, your lips that look so soft and kissable and- “Fuck, stop thinking about it. Get it together, Han Jisung,” he internally scolds himself. He hopes that you can’t hear the sound of his heart beating, or see the blush forming on his cheeks as he stares at you. 
“Can I ask you something?” your voice is quiet, almost a whisper. He can tell you’re serious, and he has no idea what you intend to ask, but the possibilities are sending him reeling. Did he stare at you too much today? Did you notice the way his face reddened every time you smiled at him? You were just so pretty that he couldn’t help it and- 
Were you going to ask him if he had feelings for you? Were you? Should he be honest if you do? Admit that he’s thought you were pretty for the longest time, has wanted you to look at him romantically for years, had wondered what your lips would feel like on his? God, he really needs his heart and mind to calm down, or he’ll never survive the rest of the night. 
“Do you ever wonder.. If you’re doing the right thing?” your question finally breaks him from his whirring thoughts, your voice still quiet and with an unsure hesitance to it. Jisung’s expression immediately changes to one of care and concern, a bit taken aback by your question but entirely ready to listen to you talk about whatever is on your mind now that he can think clearly. “What do you mean?” 
“Like.. with college, I guess. Do you ever think maybe you should be doing something different?” You look him directly in the eyes as you ask, clearly searching for some sort of comfort, an answer that will help you come to terms with whatever complicated emotion you’re dealing with.
“Yeah, sometimes. I mean, I love music, but I’m not guaranteed to go far with it even if I’m good at it. I know that sometimes passion and talent aren’t enough. The people who succeed are usually lucky,” he answers honestly; he’s not sure if that’s what you want to hear, but he knows you value his insight and opinions, even when they differ from yours.
“What makes you keep going then?” You had such a hard time this last semester, and there were more than a few times where you reached a low point and wanted to quit. You were lonely, exhausted, broke, creativity entirely spent.. You questioned whether all that hardship was worth it, and if you’d be better off pursuing something more practical and mundane.
“Well.. It makes me happy. And I know that even if things don’t turn out how I wished, I think it would be more regrettable if I didn’t try, you know? Even when it’s really hard it’s also rewarding, and every day I learn so many things I would’ve never learned alone in my room, or at least, it would’ve taken me forever to get there by myself. I made a lot of new friends too, I have you and other good people to support me, and-”
You nod along to his words, taking them in and humming every once in a while to let him know you're still listening. He’s talking a lot, but you don’t mind that- you’re happy to know what he thinks and feels, his voice is soothing, and you feel less alone knowing he understands you to at least some degree, and is willing to help you through your hardships. That’s all you really needed; for Jisung to hear you, and reply in the thoughtful way he always does.
“And you know I’ll always be there for you, right? If you ever feel like this again, just tell me. I’ll be right there, the minute you call I’ll-” Oh, wait. Your eyes are closed, breath slow and gentle, now completely unresponsive to his words. You fell asleep while he was talking? How long was he going before he even realized you were no longer listening? His other friends are right- he really does talk way too much sometimes.
He observes you quietly for a moment, giggling to himself when he hears the soft snores leaving you as he takes in your serene expression. He also realizes that the sky has gotten brighter, the sound of birds chirping becoming more prominent with each passing moment. How had the night come and gone so quickly? 
That’s what always happens when he’s with you, though- time seems to accelerate, while at the same time feeling like it’s at a stand still. The happy moments pass in the blink of an eye, but simultaneously seems to freeze whenever he stares at you. When you smile and laugh with him, it makes his heart burst, your shining eyes always taking his breath away. 
Reaching his hand up carefully, he tucks the hair that has fallen over your face behind your ear, smiling to himself when you unconsciously lean into his light touch. It’s so cute, how even in your sleep you seem to recognize it’s him, indulging in the comfort he offers you. At least, that’s what you’ve told him once before- that one of the reasons you like having sleepovers with him is because his presence makes you feel safe and relaxed. 
He's not sure if you even remember saying it, but he was so happy when you told him, and even now it’s something on his mind every time you two share a bed. He just wishes he wasn’t always so tense and nervous whenever you laid next to him, and he wishes he had more courage to always lay face to face and talk like you did tonight. Maybe one day he can hold you closer, wrap his arms around you and let his head rest atop yours.
Maybe he’ll kiss you, too- your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, anywhere you’ll let him. He can picture the way you’ll giggle at him, how you’ll playfully push him away while complaining that it tickles, and how he’ll wrap his arms around you tighter to keep you trapped in his affection. And when it’s all over he’ll tell you he loves you and-
Wait. 
He loves you? 
Well, of course he does. You’re his best friend, so of course he loves you! Totally platonically, of course. The fact that he’s had a major crush on you for the past few years doesn’t matter. Nope. Not at all. Surely he’s not literally in love with you, right? Because you’re his best friend and falling in love with your best friend is not only the most cliche thing ever, but definitely a recipe for heartbreak. 
So he’s not in love with you- he can’t be. It’s just a simple crush! It doesn’t matter that he constantly thinks about kissing you, or holding your hand while walking together, or how it’d feel for you to lay your head against him while he holds you during movie night. It doesn’t matter that he envisions what going on dates with you would be like, or what life would be like if you moved in together, or what your body would look like bare underneath his, or-
Fuck, he’s so in denial. He’s definitely in love with you, hopelessly so. His cute, endearing best friend, who he can’t seem to ever get out of his head. Do you ever think about him the way he thinks about you? Are you always on his mind, lingering in every thought the way you are for him? He desperately wants to know, but there’s a part of him that is afraid to find out, because what will he do if you don’t feel the same way? 
He forces himself to roll back over and close his eyes, because if he doesn’t stop looking at you, he’s never going to be able to stop thinking about it long enough to get some sleep. But even with his back now turned to you, hearing your soft breathing and feeling the dip in his bed from your presence is enough to plague his thoughts and keep the sleep he desperately needs out of reach for what little remains of the night. 
-
It’s been a few weeks since the night that Jisung finally admitted to himself that he’s in love with you, and whoever said being honest with yourself makes things better has definitely never been in love with their best friend, because actually what the fuck. This is the closest to hell he’s ever been, he thinks. Because he can’t seem to go a single moment without thinking about wanting to be romantic with you, and it’s driving him crazy. 
Holding your hand and cuddling during movie night, staying up all night on the phone talking about anything and everything, giving you sweet kisses after he tells you how much he loves you- he’s begging his brain to let him think about literally anything else, but it simply refuses. And now, sitting in his car together at a red light, is another such time where wanting to kiss you encompasses all his thoughts. 
You had spent time together almost every day since the night of the party now that your schedules were free, but all those times included the additions of your roommates or his. It’s only now, after a day spent at the beach, that the two of you are alone together again (thanks to the combined, scheming efforts of your mutual friends.) 
Chan loves the beach, and he goes whenever he can, but today he didn’t want to hangout there alone. He invited you, as well as his roomies and other friends, to come meet him there. And of course, you said yes, and of course, you had the most breathtaking swimsuit on underneath your clothes. It was almost embarrassing, the way it stole Jisung’s breath away and made his cheeks burn red. He prayed he could blame it on the harsh sun, but there’d be no fooling Changbin, who was snickering behind him. 
“When are you going to finally confess?” Changbin asked when you were out of ear shot, and Jisung pouted, both because he was being called out about his feelings, and because he had no fucking idea when, if ever, he’d tell you how he feels. “I.. don’t know,” he ended up answering honestly, continuing to look in your direction even as he spoke. You were splashing in the water with your mutual friends, your laugh ringing loud in his ears even with the distance between you.
“C’mon, Ji. Summer breaks are practically built for romance. You gotta make a move,” he’d said, and Jisung once again pouted. “Easier said than done,” he mumbled in response, something akin to dread settling in him whenever he thought about the possibility of you rejecting him. “Jisung,” Changbin started, all sense of joking or teasing having left him, “I’ve been watching you pine over her since the day I met the two of you. You need to tell her, because I don’t know how much more of those looks of yours I can handle.”
“What look?” Jisung asks with a frown, turning his gaze away from where you are. “Like a lost puppy begging for attention,” Changbin answers nonchalantly, and the appalled reaction he gets from Jisung makes him laugh. “But seriously. I’ll ride home with Chan, so why don’t you take her home later? Get some alone time before you drop her off or something?” 
“But she came with her roommates. Why wouldn’t she leave with them?” Jisung asked, and Changbin laughed as he shook his head. “You’re so clueless, dude.” It’s common knowledge to everyone who came today that the two of you are so hopelessly in love with each other, but seemingly too oblivious to notice how the other one feels. And if Jisung asked you to spend some alone time with him, you’d say yes in a heartbeat, no questions asked.
Maybe what the two of you needed was a little push- a reason to be alone together, a romantic setting to set the tone and finally get the two of you to move beyond the bounds of friendship. And if Jisung won’t act on his own, Changbin will take it into his own hands; mission “get these two pining idiots together” starts today. 
Changbin told Chan, who then told one of your roommates, who then told another. By the time the sun is setting, everyone knows the plan. You would be left alone with Jisung, by any excuse necessary. Thankfully, Chan came in his own car due to his tendency to hit the beach before anyone else, so he and Changbin wouldn’t be leaving Jisung stranded by leaving early.
The two of them left first, with the excuse that they’d be ending their day by hitting the gym- they’d actually just be relaxing on the sofa the rest of the day, but you and Jisung didn’t need to know that. Your roommates took that as their cue to prepare to leave as well, and the group of you helped one another towel dry enough to throw your clothes back on over your swimsuits. 
Jisung approached you as soon as he was done himself, waiting for you to finish packing your things in your tote bag before saying anything. “Hey, d-do you want to go get some ice cream?” he asked, mentally cursing himself for stuttering. Since when did asking your best friend if they want to get ice cream become so nerve wracking? 
“Of course!” you smiled, turning to your roommates next to see if they wanted to join. They all said no, of course, citing being tired or wanting to shower asap as their reasons, but urged you to enjoy your time with Jisung. You don’t find it weird at all, much too excited about eating ice cream to even begin to realize this was a planned set up. 
The sun was just beginning to sink when you arrived at your favorite parlor, excitedly bouncing up to the counter as Jisung trailed behind you with a smile. You decided to be adventurous, picking out a new flavor suited for the summer, while Jisung went with a classic choice of cookie dough. 
“Can I have a bite of yours?” it didn’t take long for you to inevitably ask him, and Jisung gave you an overdramatic sigh as he passed it over to you. Trading bites somehow always ended with you eating more of Jisung’s ice cream than he did, but that was okay with him. He always ordered your favorite flavor, knowing that you can’t resist the temptation of trying the new one, but would end up wanting cookie dough more than whatever new flavor initially enticed you. 
It’s a bit of a ritual for him at this point; ordering your favorite while pretending it’s his favorite as well, acting like he's annoyed when you beg him for a bite and eventually end up taking half the bowl while offering him whatever flavor you ordered instead as compensation for his loss. Do you notice the way he smiles after you take his ice cream from him? The adoration that lingers in his eyes as he watches you happily devour the sweet treat?
You skipped to the car when you were finished, evidently very pleased with your ice cream endeavors and not at all apologetic for stealing all of the cookie dough for yourself, once again oblivious to the way he does it all for you. That would probably never change, and for the first time, Jisung wondered if that was okay. Did he want it to change? Did he want you to notice? He wasn’t sure what was best anymore.
And now here you both were, sitting at a red light while the sun sinks ever lower in the horizon, blue beginning to spread over the sky and little specks of stars finally becoming visible. Instead of looking at the street as he waits for the light to turn, he looks at you. You just looked so pretty, and all he could think of once again was how badly he wanted to kiss you. 
Jisung wished he had words to put what he thought of you other than a simple “pretty” but that’s all that ever came to mind. So, so pretty, impossibly so. Pretty in a way that sunsets and oceans couldn’t ever compare, at least not in his mind- he would always find you better, no comparison ever being good enough to describe what he thought of you. 
You’re in your own little world, humming along to the song playing through the speakers and tapping your fingers to the beat. However, it doesn’t take long for you to feel his eyes on you, your body alerting you to his lingering gaze and instructing you to look back at him. The sight you're met with when you turn your head makes your face immediately burn; Jisung isn’t simply glancing over at you, or trying to check in with you after a tiring day out. He’s blatantly staring at you. 
“..Ji..?” his name barely leaves you, an unspoken question lingering in the air between you. Why is he looking at you like that? What was going through his head right now? Your face heats up exponentially, watching as his eyes travel over your features, seeming to take them in deeply. You instinctively hold in a breath when his eyes reach your lips, staring at them with an overt yearning. 
Your surroundings fade, music no longer audible, the light of the sinking sun illuminating him beautifully and drawing you even further into his gaze. All there was in this moment was Jisung; he was all you could see, all you could focus on, and it was the same for him with you. You were always his first thought, always there at the forefront of his mind, but he always tried to push the deeper feelings away, because you’re his best friend and he shouldn’t think of you as anything more than that. 
But right now, he can’t help it. His urge to kiss you is so strong, and he knows he can’t resist it the way he usually can. Your eyes that hold the entire world- no, the entire galaxy, his galaxy, in them makes his self control shatter. Maybe Changbin had a point when he said that summer was perfect for romance. Because the way you look at him, with eyes shining under the twinkling lights that blink on one by one with the fading sun- he loves you, he wants to be with you, and that desire is consuming him. 
Your heart races as he leans closer to you, inch by inch. You lose all concept of time passing, a moment that in reality lasts mere seconds instead feeling like an eternity. You close your eyes, waiting; waiting for the moment you’ve craved for ages, for his lips to touch yours for the first time. How long had you pined for him? 
It’s hard to say exactly; In high school, when he got his first love confession and accepted it, it broke your heart. But at the time, you thought it was just because it meant he would have less time for you, and with time you moved on, deciding it was important to be happy for your best friend even if it crushed you for reasons you didn’t entirely understand. And eventually you entered your first relationship as well, and for a time you could forget about how lonely you felt from not having Jisung always near you. 
Neither of your respective first relationships lasted all that long; high school romances tend to dwindle as college draws near, after all. Life has a tendency to take people to different places, and some realize their ambitions faster than others. It saddened you at the time, but you weren’t going to alter your life for someone else and you didn’t expect anyone to do that for you either. After all, 20 is awfully early to decide not to follow your dreams for the sake of someone else. 
But you and Jisung were still on the same path, and that had to mean something, right? It was like the days where you were distant never even occurred, the both of you picking up where you left off like no time had ever passed. You were as close as you’d ever been, still seeing each other at every opportunity, even when you were drowning in assignment deadlines and exhaustive study efforts. He made time for you, and you made time for him, even when it was hard. Didn’t that mean something? 
Yes, it meant everything- at least it did to you. And so did he; Jisung meant everything to you. He always had, and you think he always will. You can feel his breath on you now, the warmth tickling your skin and your heart feeling like it’s going to burst from out of your chest as the gap between you closes. He’s so close to you, the closest he’s ever been. His lips drawn to yours, closer, closer, and then- 
The shrill honk of a car from behind snaps you both from the moment. Jisung opens his eyes quickly, blinking for just a moment as reality settles back over him and he processes what was just about to happen. You do the same, turning your attention back towards the front and seeing that the traffic light had turned green while the two of you were lost in the moment you were sharing. 
He swallows, mentally offering an apology to the cars behind him as he continues to drive you home. Fuck, he really got carried away. Was he really about to risk everything you had together by kissing you? What would happen to your friendship? He’s not supposed to like you, and you definitely don’t like him- at least, not romantically. He’s at least 60% sure of that; maybe even 70%. Get it through your head Jisung- you're just friends. Just. Friends.
You meanwhile are stuck in thought as well, though not in the same way. You feel light, almost? Buzzing with what could only be described as pure excitement, unfiltered joy seeping out of every pore. He was going to kiss you!! He was really going to! That meant he liked you, didn’t it? Or maybe he even loved you? Loved you in the same you loved him, wanted to be with you in the same way you wanted to be with him? 
You take a peek in his direction, noticing his stiff hold on the steering wheel and the rigid way his body sits. He keeps his gaze straight forward, not daring to look at you, afraid of what expression he’ll be met with. He’d never forgive himself if he looked over to see you were upset with him, forever feeling like an idiot if it was his fault your friendship came to an end.
Maybe he’s just nervous, you think. That would make sense! He gathered his courage for a moment, and now he needed time to gather it again- it's not easy to overcome hesitation and let someone know how you feel about them, but this minor setback won't be the end of it. He’d definitely kiss you before the night was over! You’re sure of it! 
Okay, maybe you weren’t entirely sure of it. Because he’s still stiff and nervous when he drops you off at your apartment building, offering a strained goodbye and eyes not quite meeting yours. That’s still okay! Jisung is just shy- that has to be it! It won’t be long before he kisses you, you’re sure of it- for real this time! …right? right!
-
Maybe you should stop saying you’re sure of things, because you’re never right. It’s been a week since Jisung almost kissed you, and he’s been avoiding you the entire time! You didn’t understand- surely he was over his shyness by now, right? How much longer was he going to make you wait? It was agony. 
“Ji. Movie night at my place tonight. And I swear if you cancel again I’ll never forgive you !!!” you texted him dramatically, spamming various angry emojis for added effect. To your relief, Jisung agrees to come over and bring snacks as an apology for being busy. You don’t believe he was actually busy of course, but you’ll let him off the hook on that for now.
It's mid afternoon when he finally arrives, multiple bags full of snacks and sweet treats in hand. You smile and hug him tightly, noting that he’s still stiff but deciding not to dwell on that just yet- he’s finally here, after all! And if this plethora of snacks told you anything, it was that he genuinely was sorry for avoiding you. 
He tosses the bags on the coffee table, and you throw on a random movie you’ve already seen before, because the movie ultimately doesn’t matter- it’s just an excuse to see Jisung again. Unlike his usual self, he sits on the complete opposite end of the sofa from you, putting an invisible wall between you. Well, that’s fine! You’ll just move closer! 
You hear his breath hitch when you sit right next to him, glancing over just long enough to see you smiling at him. He’s so fucked- his feelings definitely aren’t under control enough for this; you're positively torturing him. How is he supposed to get over his feelings for you if you’re looking at him like that while sitting so close to him?
You purposely leave your hand close to his, waiting to see if he’ll hold it, but he doesn’t. He keeps his eyes straight ahead at the tv, evidently still scared to meet your gaze or be too close to you. Why? Why does he keep avoiding your eyes when you look at him? Why won’t he bring himself closer to you? Is he trying to forget it happened?
Does he not realize how badly you wanted him to kiss you? Maybe.. Maybe he’s scared to bring it up. Maybe he’s afraid of rejection, or of your friendship deteriorating from his outward admission. Maybe he’d rather bottle it back up, pretend he was never on the brink of kissing you, because losing you would be the worst thing that would ever happen to him.
Is he scared that you don’t have feelings for him? Is that why even now, when his feelings have all but been laid out, he’s avoiding the confrontation? But he doesn’t have to be afraid of that- you love him. If he’s unsure, then you need him to know, and you’ll tell him yourself. 
"Jisung, look at me," you suddenly call to him, tone so serious that he can’t possibly ignore it. He swallows, forcing himself to finally meet your gaze head on, palms sweating as he anticipates what he’s most afraid of. "The other day, in your car… were you going to kiss me?" Fuck. He knew you were going to ask. 
You watch his expression change as his face heats up, a not at all subtle red encroaching over his features. "O-Oh, I-" he starts to speak, but immediately stops, words dying in his throat. Fuck. God Dammit. Even though he knew this would happen, none of the scenarios he crafted in his head seemed to be of any assistance. 
The excuses he conjured, the apologies that he knew he should utter, the words he thought he should say that were practiced over and over again.. All of that preparation failed him now, a sort of panic settling over him as his body tensed and hands clammed up further. 
Honestly, watching him flounder for an excuse or explanation that would allow him to pretend he doesn’t have feelings for you is kind of funny, (and oddly cute), but now really isn’t the time to let it continue. Now, after years and years of secret pining, it’s time for both of you to lay out your feelings clearly, verbally. 
"It would've been fine.. I wanted you to do it," you say with complete honesty, pushing away your own nerves and hesitation as far as you could. You couldn’t let your anxieties get the better of you now; you needed to say what you feel, and encourage Jisung to do the same, otherwise the two of you will always be stuck in the boundaries of friendship. You both need to swallow down the part of you that is scared and shy, or you’ll never move beyond what you are. 
His eyes widened, mouth falling slightly agape in shock. What? Huh? You wanted him to kiss you? But that would mean even if you don’t love him like he loves you, you at the very least like him, and surely you didn’t. There is no way you like him like that, because that would mean his friends are right, and he’s a clueless idiot. 
Fuck. Is he a clueless idiot? 
"I'm in love with you, Ji," you finally admit for the first time aloud, and while it’s nerve wracking to say the least, it’s also a relief. Your feelings have been a secret for so long (at least to Jisung they were, cause lord knows you’re an open book otherwise), and it felt good to say it, to tell him right to his face that you love him. Even if you read into the situation completely wrong somehow, and he wasn’t trying to kiss you that day and didn’t like you, at least you no longer had to hide how you feel. 
"Since.. since when?" he asks, still a bit stunned and entirely in disbelief. He can’t believe this is even happening, and there’s part of him that thinks this must be some elaborate dream; he must’ve fallen asleep during the movie, or maybe he never woke up this morning and this entire day has been part of a long dream. But no, he knows it isn’t a dream; because you are much too tangible, and no dream, no matter how vivid, compares to the reality of you. 
"I-I don't know, since.. always?" you answer, a slight blush of your own crawling over your skin. You don’t remember the exact moment you realized you liked him as more than a friend anymore, as you were still just a kid then. But you know that by the time high school came, your seemingly small crush had developed into much more, and in recent months, you finally realized the true depth of that feeling. 
Even when you were too young to understand what love is and what it felt like, even when you convinced yourself that everything you felt for him was purely platonic in nature, your feelings for Jisung were there. So.. since always. You’ve always wanted him close to you, always wanted your life to be spent with him by your side, always, always loved him above anyone else.
He groans loudly, throwing his arms up and covering his face in a display of anguish. "You're telling me you could've been my girlfriend this whole time?" You can’t help but giggle at his reaction, finding him impossibly cute and funny. “It’s not too late for me to be your girlfriend now,” you say, and he immediately peels his arms away from his face, looking at you as if you’ve said something that he only could’ve imagined in his wildest dreams.
“Do you mean that?” he asks, hope palpable in his tone, eyes pleading for this to not be something you’re saying just to tease him. “Of course I mean that, silly,” you giggle a little, reaching out for his hands and squeezing them in yours, “I meant everything I said.”
“Oh my god, thank god- I mean, you’re really going to be my girlfriend? You’re not just saying it, right? I don’t have to like. Pretend I don’t have feelings for you anymore? Because it’s been driving me insane, and I don't think I can do it anymore, you're way too pretty and-” “Jisung-! Shut up and kiss me already,” you interrupt his rambling, and he blinks once, twice, obliging your request as soon as the reality of your words settles over him. 
When your lips finally touch his, it feels so right- like everything you’ve ever felt or experienced in your entire life was all to lead to this very moment. It’s sweet, addictive, intoxicating- everything you have ever wanted, ever hoped for, and more. His hands are hesitant, unsure of where they should rest and if it’s okay to touch you, but when you reach out to him and pull yourself closer, it’s all the permission he needs to let his hands wander. 
Years worth of suppressed emotions bubble to the surface all at once, both of you caught in the tidal wave of repressed feelings and urges. Soft, slow timid kisses eventually turn into full ones, deep and impassioned, with all the weight of your feelings pressed into them. Your hands rest on his chest while his move down your waist, fingers lingering on your hips for just a moment before bringing them back up. 
His tongue licks against your lip, tentative and almost shy, a silent hope lingering, an unspoken beg for your permission. You open your mouth, granting him what he desires with no restraint, your own tongue meeting his eagerly, coming together in a salacious dance. One of his hands reaches for the nape of your neck to keep you close, and you can feel him smile against your lips when it causes a noise of approval to involuntarily escape from your throat.
Both of your lips become red and swollen from their constant use, any sense of rhythm having completely degraded now that your open mouth kisses have turned into sloppy messes of tongue. It’s embarrassing how worked up he’s getting just from kissing you, and he desperately hopes you haven’t noticed how hard he’s gotten from it. But of course, you have noticed, and you definitely intend on doing something about it. 
“Ji.. do you want to touch me?” you pull away from him to ask, and the reaction you get from him is immediate. “God, yes, can I?” The eagerness in his voice makes you giggle as you nod. “Just, uhm.. Get comfortable?” you suggest, shifting your position so that you’re on your heels, hands just slightly in front of you, making your intent clear to him- you want to be in his lap, and obviously he’s going to let you. 
Jisung leans back on the sofa, watching you crawl in his lap with bated breath before you pull your shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor beside you. You reach for one of his hands, guiding it to your chest, and he swallows thickly, the sight before him making him throb in his shorts. The fact that he gets to kiss you now, gets to touch you- it’s a dream come true. Though, the reality is much better than any of his many, many dreams of being with you. 
He lifts his other hand to you as well, completely forgetting he's using it to support himself, making him fall completely back against the sofa, head thunking on the arm rest. You laugh as he lets out a small “ow!”, his clumsy nature always endearing to you, and especially so during this moment; it’s the sweet, goofy side of Jisung that made you fall in love with him, after all. 
Jisung laughs with you once the sting fades, fully indulging in the sound of your laugh and the cute way your face scrunches, even if it is at his expense. You reach your hand to his head, rubbing it in soft, soothing gesture as you lean down, kissing him once more as he cups your breasts in his hands. The mewl you let out against his lips when he squeezes is enough to send him straight to heaven.
No, he already is in heaven, because nothing could be better than this; you on him, against him, kissing him, letting him touch and squeeze you to his heart's content. He lets out a hiss when you settle your full weight into his lap, his erection pressing directly against you. He gasps when you grind against him, and you use that as an opportunity to let your tongue back into his mouth. 
You stay like that for some time, making out with each other while your fingers are tangled in his hair and his hands squeeze at your flesh, but you’re beginning to desire more, and you can tell Jisung is too, from the way his body reacts with every subtle move you make. You separate from him, sitting up and bringing your hands behind your back to unhook your bra and finally remove it.
“W-Wait, your roommates-” Jisung’s voice comes out urgently, abruptly propping himself up on his elbows as a realization hits him, “what if they come home? While you’re.. we’re..?” Oh. You were still in the living room, huh? That fact entirely left your mind, much too absorbed in the man underneath you to think about who could end up seeing the both of you like this.
Well, they knew you were inviting him over today, and knowing them, they’d likely stay out for a while to allow you to have alone time.. But still, it’d be better to not risk having them walk in on the sight of you half naked in your boyfriend’s lap. “My room, then?” you ask, carefully removing yourself from atop him, and Jisung nods eagerly, quickly rising to his feet the moment he is able.
You grab your shirt from the floor, ensuring you leave no evidence of your actions behind before leading Jisung to your room with quick, eager steps. He’s been in your room a million times, but it feels so different now, given the context of everything that happened moments before. You both stand there a moment, not hesitant, but rather shy, deciding how best you should proceed from here.
You eventually decide to sit on your bed first, shooting Jisung a soft smile afterwards that lets him know he’s welcome to come join you. So he does; he carefully sits next to you, the newfound shyness fully settling over the two of you. You were acting in the heat of the moment earlier, your bodies reacting before your minds could catch up, but now that you’ve both had a moment to process your actions, it fills you with butterflies. 
There’s a moment where you stay like that, subtle blushes on your faces as you look at each other, before you speak up again, “Do you want to keep going..?” “Yes!” Jisung answers without even thinking, immediately clearing his throat after and trying to play off how eager he just sounded, “I mean, uhm- yes. Do you want to?”
The blush on his face flares when you giggle at him; he knows you aren’t laughing at him necessarily, but he can’t help the tinge of embarrassment that crawls up his spine. “Yes, I do,” you smile at him, and it’s so pretty and bright that he can’t even be flustered anymore; because more importantly than that, you want to keep going too- you want more, just like he does. 
So he smiles too, reaching out to you and pulling you into a kiss, both of you giggling into it softly. The giggles fade out as the kiss becomes more heated, you gently pushing him back and crawling back on top of him when his head hits your pillows, returning to the position you were in previously. 
Jisung’s hands are the ones that reach behind you this time, fumbling with the hooks of your bra while you kiss him with his face in your hands. Thankfully, he gets it undone on the third try, and you sit back up, letting it fall down your arms and subsequently tossing it aside. “..so beautiful,” he mumbles mostly to himself, but you still hear it, and it makes the blush on your face flare.
You grab at the hem of his shirt, wanting to see his body as well. He lifts himself off his back, helping you pull his shirt off, neither of you paying any mind to where it lands once it’s discarded. You trace your hands over him when he lays back again, from his broad chest to his slim waist, eyes drinking him in while your hands familiarize themselves with the feeling of his bare skin. 
You’ve seen him shirtless countless times in recent years, so you’re no stranger to how attractive he is, but it’s different now; different because now you can openly admire him, and don't have to pretend to not notice that he’s built like a greek god. Even Adonis himself doesn’t hold a candle to the beauty of Han Jisung. 
“You’re so pretty, Ji,” you tell him sincerely. The compliment makes the blush on his face darken, but he returns your smile, reaching his hands back up to you. “I should be saying that to you,” he responds, one of his hands resting on your waist, “you’re the prettiest thing in the world.” He brings his other hand to the nape of your neck just as before, gently pulling you back to him before you can reply, his tongue grazing your lips when they touch again.
He brings your hands to breasts now, cupping them in his hands as he did before. He can feel your breath shudder when his thumbs brush over your nipples, a soft mewl pouring into his mouth when he rubs them between his fingers. The stimulation makes your entire body shiver, your hips grind down in search of some sort of relief, soft groans leaving Jisung every time you press your body down on his cock.
You separate from the kiss, one your hands reaching between your bodies, settling on the waistband of his shorts. “Is this okay?” you ask, watching him for any sign of hesitation or apprehension, but there’s none to be found. Instead, you’re met with eager, twinkling eyes, anticipation written all over him as he nods, a soft “yes, please,” leaving him in a quick breath.
You shove his waistband down just enough to free his cock from its confines, a hiss escaping him when your fingers begin to trace him up and down. Your fingers gather the pre-cum leaking from his tip, spreading it over his length easily, and turning him into a wet, sticky mess. He watches in breathless awe when your hand wraps around him, entranced by the visual before him.
You, so beautiful and lovely, with your pretty hands on and around him, watching him and the way his body reacts to you with sweet salacity. He lets out a breathy groan when you begin to pump him earnestly, his eyes closing despite how badly he wants to keep watching. Your hand just feels so much better than his, so much softer and perfectly warm. 
You watch his face, committing to memory the way it contorts, the way his brows furrow and teeth sink into his bottom lip. You memorize the way his chest rises and falls with each quick breath, the way his thighs tremble, the way his stomach contracts as you drive him closer and closer to release. 
“Sungie,” you call to him, slowing your pace down just enough for him to be able to easily open his eyes and look at you, “want you in my mouth- is that okay? Can I?” “Oh my god, yes, please, you don’t even have to ask,” he says between shallow breaths, far too excited to have your mouth on him to be embarrassed by the desperate display he’s putting on.
He props himself on his elbows, watching you scoot yourself down his legs and bringing your face right up to his cock. Your tongue comes out first, collecting the pre-cum with long, drawn out licks, and fuck, the sight alone is enough to have his eyes rolling back. You kiss the tip before you wrap your lips around him, his head falling back and curses leaving his lips as you sink your head down on him.
His hands grip at your sheets, desperately trying to hold himself back from bucking his hips up and choking you, because the last thing he wants is to accidentally hurt you. But fuck, your mouth feels so amazing, he almost can’t breathe. “God, fuck-” he gasps when his cock touches the back of your throat, your tongue rubbing the underside so perfectly.
He’s trying to hold it back, desperate to feel your tongue on him longer, to have your lips wrapped around him for just another moment, but he can’t. He releases with a strained cry, his cum filling your mouth in quick spurts. The unfamiliar feeling causes you to gag at first, but you recover quickly, swallowing all he has to give you happily. 
You release him from your mouth when you feel him begin to soften, laying next to him with a soft, satisfied smile on your face. “Was it good?” you ask him and he lets out a breathless laugh before he answers. “So good, seriously, you’re amazing,” he says, turning his head to look at you with a small smile of his own to match yours, “but you already knew that, didn’t you? You just wanted me to say it.” 
“Maybe,” you giggle, and Jisung does as well, shifting to his side and pulling your body closer to his. He kisses you once more, tasting himself on your lips, but not at all minding it- in fact, he finds that he actually really likes it. It’s fucking hot, if he’s being honest. But there’s one thing that would make it even hotter- if your taste was on his tongue too.
“I want to make you feel good too,” he says, fingers resting on your hips, just above your own waistband, “is that okay with you? Can I?” The question makes your stomach flip, thighs pressing together at the idea of Jisung between your legs- you really want it. “Yes, I- I want you to.” 
With your affirmation, he lifts himself off the bed and lets you lay back, deciding to remove the last of his clothing before settling between your legs once you’re comfortable. His fingers hook in your waistband now, ready to take your shorts and underwear off together in one motion. He looks at you before he does, taking in your expression that is filled with shy anticipation, eyes traveling down your body next, stopping where his hands rest on your hips.
God, he feels like a virgin again with the way his hands tremble, the thought of you seeing you bare leaving him as nervous as it does excited. Why does his heart feel like it’s going to burst out of his chest? He’s eager, he knows that, and shyness still lingers, but there’s something else there that’s making his heart race out of control. 
It’s because he loves you, if he had to guess. You turn him to putty, one look from you enough to reduce him to a mere puddle. He doubts you know the effect you have on him, as he’s spent so much time trying to hide it, but he doesn’t have to anymore. Jisung can love you fully now- no need to hold back, to push it aside, to try and disguise it as the platonic love between friends. 
He can hold you in his arms, can feel your lips on his, can touch your bare skin, can put his all into making you as happy as you make him. He looks back at your face again, your expression is similar to his own. Eager trepidation written in your eyes, love and adoration lingering underneath. 
Your eyes meet his once more, shy but certain, and you smile at him, the way you always have. A smile that makes his brain go fuzzy, that fills him with a sweet desire, that makes him whole. You, the brightest star in his galaxy, so beautiful and perfect, whom he once thought was out of reach but now sits in hands, radiating love and warmth. 
If he is your Adonis, then you’re his Aphrodite; when you are together, the sun shines brighter, the world more vibrant, more beautiful, all because you’re there with him. He’ll love you until his last breath, and he knows you’ll do the same, a promise unspoken for now, but will one day leave him earnestly, down on one knee with a ring in hand. 
“I love you,” he tells you as he leans down, kissing you before you can utter a reply, slowly pulling your clothing down your legs as he does. Jisung’s earnest admission, paired with his actions, makes the heat on your face flare and body tremble, hands coming up to cover your face once the kiss is over as an even more intense shyness settles over you.
“Love you too,” you mutter, face feeling impossibly hot. Sure, you already admitted it earlier, but it’s your first time hearing it from Jisung, and the fact that he’s saying it during an intimate moment while looking at you like that? Your heart simply can’t handle it. Peeking through your fingers, you can see him smiling as he carefully pushes your legs apart and it makes a whine unconsciously leave you.
“Baby,” his voice calls to you, and the use of the petname from him definitely does your heart no favors, “why are you covering your face? It’s just me.” “That’s the problem- it’s you,” you mumble, just barely managing to peel your hands away from your face to give him a pout. Doesn’t he know that the way you’re acting now is entirely his fault? It was much easier to push past your shyness when the focus was on him instead of you. 
Jisung isn’t used to seeing this bashful side of you and God, it’s so cute that he might have fallen for you even harder than before (if that’s even possible.) He smiles again, and you swear this surge of confidence from him has to be illegal- because the effect it has on you is positively lethal. Han Jisung is going to be the death of you. 
“You’re so wet,” he speaks softly in your ear, fingers rubbing through your folds and coating them in the proof of your excitement. “Jisung-” you whine once more, but before you can cover your face again, his other hand comes up to stop you. “Please let me see you. I need to know how you feel when I’m touching you. Okay, baby? Please.” 
Fuck. How can you say no after hearing that? You concede with a nod, lowering your hands in a silent promise to do your best to look at him, to let him see you no matter how shy or overwhelmed you may get; because if it’s what Jisung wants, you’ll do your best to ensure he has it. 
“Thank you,” he smiles as he gives you a quick peck on the lips, “in return I’ll make sure you feel so good. Are you ready?” You nod again, but quickly realize he wants you to actually say it, so you swallow down your nerves the best you can to allow yourself to speak. “Yes, I- I’m ready. Make me feel good, please.” 
His two middle fingers press against your hole, using the tips of his fingers to check for any resistance before carefully pushing fully inside. His first motions are slow, making sure you’re well adjusted to the feeling of his fingers and observing you for any changes in expression. Your body jolts when he finds the spot inside you that makes you see stars, head falling back as an unintentionally loud moan escapes you. 
Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut, whimpers and moans unable to be held back with the way his fingers repeatedly prod at your spot. “Does it feel good? You like how my fingers feel inside you?” He asks, and even though you can’t see the smile anymore, you can hear it. You nod repeatedly, mouth opening to try to tell him, though all that escapes you are embarrassingly loud sounds of pleasure. 
“Can’t say it? That’s okay, your pussy is telling me everything I need to know. You’re squeezing my fingers so tight,” he says in your ear, pressing a kiss to your skin after. Oh, you liked that a lot- he can tell by the way you clench around his fingers, legs trembling and hands twisting the sheets beneath you. Maybe the fact that he talks a lot will be a good thing for once.
“You gonna cum soon? Want to cum all over my fingers? Go ahead baby, I want to see it, show me how good you feel.” “Oh my god, Ji-” you gasp; you’re so, so close- you just need one thing to finally push you over the edge. “K-Kiss, please, need a kiss,” you practically beg, looking at him with watery eyes and pouty lips. 
Holy fuck, does that make him crumble. How could anything be simultaneously so cute and fucking hot? He leans down to meet your request, free hand moving to cup your face while his fingers continue their ministrations, and that’s all you need to finally come undone. Your entire body shakes, eyes rolling back as your release soaks his fingers. He keeps kissing you even as you come down from your high, letting you pull back for air as you please but always capturing your lips again as soon as he is able. 
You whine when he finally slips his fingers out of you, watching shyly as he brings them to his mouth to lick clean. His eyes stay on yours the entire time, and it makes the heat on your face intensify beyond what you thought was possible. He kisses you once more when he’s finished, tongue coaxing you to open your mouth, both your tastes melding together on your tongues, just as he wanted.
He’s hard again too- you can feel his cock pressing against you, begging for more stimulation that you’re more than happy to give. “Ji-” you pull away from his lips to long enough to speak, “please fuck me.” He groans at your words, opening his eyes to look at you before he continues, “I will, I promise I’ll make you feel so good. But, I- I, uhm, I don’t have anything, I didn’t expect anything to happen, so..” 
“That’s okay. I trust you Ji,” you reply, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as you reach your hand to his face, “love you so much, just want you inside me.” He groans again, kissing you sweetly as he aligns himself with your entrance. “You’re sure?” he pulls away to ask first, “It’s okay to change your mind, I can run out and grab condoms and-” 
You smile, shutting him up with a kiss before he can continue to ramble. You appreciate the offer, and the sweet consideration he has for you, but.. “I’m so sure, I promise. I want this.” He returns your smile when you pull away, reaching one of his hands to grab yours, squeezing it before intertwining your fingers together. “As long as you’re sure, I’ll give you everything you want,” he says, a promise that extends beyond just this moment- anything and everything he has to give, it’s yours for as long as you want it. 
Jisung can’t help but let out a moan as he sinks inside you, eyes closing and head falling forward at the immediate overwhelming pleasure your body brings him. You squeeze his hand, your other one coming up to hold his face; you can feel the heat radiating off his cheek, can see the sweat that lingers on his brow and makes his hair stick to his forehead. 
When he opens his eyes to look at you again, his stomach erupts in butterflies, heart squeezing in his chest. You’re just as sweaty as him, face flushed and hair disheveled, and yet it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever been- and you’re smiling; the pretty smile that always turns his brain to mush and snatches his breath away. 
God, he can’t take it- he needs to calm down before the sight of you, paired with the mind-numbing pleasure that’s encompassing him, gives him a heart attack. "Sungie, are you okay?" you ask after a moment passes, concern growing on your face as you continue to hold his face in your hand.
"Fuck, y-yeah, I'm fine, I- I just.. this is so embarrassing, but I just like- need a minute," he admits almost breathlessly, as if even the act speaking to you is a struggle- and in a way it is, because all his concentration is being poured into not cumming just from seeing your pretty face, or your beautiful body underneath him while being squeezed by your walls.
"Take your time, I'm not going anywhere," you tell him sincerely, squeezing his hand in reassurance as you lean up to kiss him. You understand why he’s embarrassed, but you hope he knows that when he’s with you, he doesn’t have to be; you love him no matter what. Besides, you have to admit you like that you have such a profound effect on him. And while the kiss doesn’t help calm his heart by any means, he appreciates your sweetness endlessly, meeting your lips eagerly despite himself. 
When his hips finally move, the sweet sound that pours from your lips sends a shiver through his entire body. He wants, needs, to hear it again, more and more, until his name is the only thing lingering on your tongue, the only thing you are capable of uttering between your pleasured moans. “So pretty, everything about you, your body, the sounds you make, so pretty,” he tells you, though his lips barely leave yours long enough to say it. 
Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging just enough to draw a whine from him, and he knows he’s done for. Every sound, every touch, every glance, no matter how soft or how subtle drives him further into overwhelming bliss. He’s drowning in you, in the love and relief you offer him, lost in the abyss that is your care. He brings his hands to your legs, lifting them up and effectively folding you in half, aiming to find the spot that’ll have you crying out for him.
It only takes a few experimental thrusts to find it, and the way clench around him, voice ringing loudly in his ears as your legs tremble in his hold, it’s enough to make him want to cum right then and there. His pace quickens, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches your body react to him, desperate to hold back his need to cum for as long as he can manage, just so he can have this view of you for a while longer. 
But when you start to whine his name, when you breathlessly tell him you can feel him twitching inside you, can feel him so deep and how you feel so good- his restraint crumbles in an instant, falling apart for you far too easily. His hips stutter as he drills into you, thrusts becoming sloppy as he chases his high. You bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles, wanting nothing more than to cum with the person you’ve loved your entire life.
"Oh my fucking god, feels so good, you feel so good, I- f-fuck, I can't-" he babbles against your skin, his high so dangerously close, but doing his best to hold it back just for you, so that you can cum together. “Baby, ‘m so close, gonna cum, want you to cum with me, please, please cum with me,” he begs, voice easily the most whiny and desperate you’ve ever heard it, and your body reacts almost instantly, as if his word was the command you needed to finally let go.
You use your free hand to pull him into a messy, open mouthed kiss, eyes rolling back as you finally cum on his cock and let him swallow every noise you make. Your entire body tenses and shudders, his cock twitching as you squeeze him tighter, pleasured groans and curses tumbling from his lips as cum shoots into you, fucking you through your shared highs. He continues to fuck you until overstimulation and sensitivity takes hold, his body trembling as he pulls out of you.
He promptly lies next to you, arms wasting no time in wrapping around you, hugging you closely to himself as the two of you collect your breath. You can’t help but smile as you look at him, and he does the same, his unwavering love and joy meeting your own. You recognize that you should probably get up, should clean up and get dressed now before your roommates get home, but you simply don’t want to. 
You wiggle closer, pressing yourself against him, letting out a content sigh when his arms squeeze you tighter. You close your eyes for a moment, indulging in the security Jisung brings you, the love, the support, the safety of his touch, of his presence. He kisses the top of your head, meeting your cute, gentle smile with one of his own. 
When he looks at you, and sees the pure, obvious love written in your eyes, he's not sure how he always missed it. You look at him the way he looks at you- like he holds your entire world in his hands, the sincerest form of love shining in every glance, bleeding into every touch. Your smile, sweet and content, eyes soft and full of adoration; they tell him everything. Even without words, he knows- you love him, now and always. A promise, unspoken but understood, that you'll always be together, that you'll always have each other. 
Jisung takes his time now, to do all the things he imagined he would do if he was ever granted this moment; he holds you close, he plants kisses all over you, he tells you how pretty you are, how perfect and beautiful, until you're giggling, a cute pink blush spreading on your cheeks as you playfully tell him to stop. And when he does, and you look at him with your gleaming eyes and adorable smile, he tells you he loves you, just as he's always wanted to.  
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hello ! if you're here then thank you for reading ! the inspo for the events of this fic come from 2 love songs i used to listen to all the time when i was in middle school- white lines and red lights + darlin' by between the trees ! they're quite old now, so i wouldn't be surprised if these songs are obscure to people fdghdfg but if you look up the lyrics you'll definitely see where the inspo plays into the fic lol it's honestly not at all subtle :')
i had wanted to write a fic with those songs as a basis for YEARS but i never did cause other ideas i had took my priority. but this prompt felt like the perfect time to finally write the fic i had been envisioning for years so i'd like to say thank you to the people behind skzwritingcafe for giving me the inspo i needed to see this idea thru <3 
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skzwritingcafe · 1 year
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Hi! Hope everyone's summer has been nice!
Sorry for being rather inactive - due to a busier summer than expected, we haven't been able to look into this blog as often as we'd like to!
For this reason, we'll have to delay the deadline of this month's event. Instead of the 20th, we will accept entries until August 25th. After this date, we will try to reblog everybody's submissions asap!
Sorry about that! Thank you everybody 🩶
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skzwritingcafe · 1 year
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Hi! ☺️
I’ve got a question about the current event (summertime confessions)—is it okay to post after the deadline (20th August)? I will possibly not be able to finish writing the story I am working on on time but would still love to participate since I’m so happy you’re hosting it and I also really like this month’s theme.
If it’s not possible, no worries!! I just thought I could ask you first :)
Have a nice day/evening/night 🥰
Hello!
I'm about to make a post announcing the deadline being changed to another date due to schedule conflicts on my part, so don't worry!
Thank you for your interest in the event and happy writing!
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skzwritingcafe · 1 year
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hi sorry this is a really dumb question but I was wondering how you got this specific gold color font on your post?
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I wanna submit to the event but my ocd is screaming that i need to have that exact same color. but tumblr's color options are like the eight plain ones (red, black, yellow, etc.), not this specific gold!
ty!
Hello! Thanks for your interest in our event!!
I'm not very good at explaining but I will try! To use a color that isn't one of tumblr's default ones, you'll need to use the HTML editor.
Copy/paste all of your text/fic and do all the formatting you need to do (except the gold color you want). Then, switch to the HTML editor, which you'll find on top of the 'new post' window here:
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The hex code for this particular color is #cc9728 !
You will now see the HTML editor. For every sentence you want to put in this color, you will need to use this HTML coding :
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You can highlight words and sentences this way, using that color or another.
If you didn't understand, I'm really sorry & it's totally on me, I'm very bad at explaining things - if you're comfortable with that, please DM me and I'll be in contact with you, I'd be happy to help and send you actual coding for your text!
Have a nice day! x
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skzwritingcafe · 1 year
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Skzwritingcafe's July/August 2023 event ☀️
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Hello everybody! We'd like to announce our second event today!
The theme for this month will be: summertime confessions ~
∴ This event is for adults only. Please read our guidelines before submitting your work.
∴ Any trope is welcome! Strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, fake dating, fantasy au, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, etc. Sky is the limit! Any kink is welcome as long as long as it is legal and between two consenting adults (no kinkshaming allowed! let people live!)
∴ All fanfics should be submitted before August 20th, 2023, and should be completed, tagged appropriately, and following our guidelines. They can be of any length and genre as long as they are fanfics and do not promote any hate.
∴ Please submit your entry by posting it on your blog and using our tag #skzwritingcafe as well as this month's tag #skzsummertimeconfessions in the first 10 tags. Your entry must indicate that it is a submission to our event. Please mention @skzwritingcafe + the event's name! Thank you!
Do not hesitate to reach out if you have any questions.
Happy writing & happy reading!
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skzwritingcafe · 1 year
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i hate how modern culture has kind of…pushed its narrative on fanfic. like, authors aren’t writing fic to be a product. they’re not writing it to please the public or make a profit off of it. they’re writing it for themselves and because they enjoy making people happy and sharing their stories with others. they’re not obligated to listen to any sort of suggestion/criticism/complaint/etc. because their fic isn’t a product. it’s not something you can rate. give kudos and leave a comment if you like it. scroll if you don’t.
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skzwritingcafe · 1 year
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Skzwritingcafe's July/August 2023 event ☀️
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Hello everybody! We'd like to announce our second event today!
The theme for this month will be: summertime confessions ~
∴ This event is for adults only. Please read our guidelines before submitting your work.
∴ Any trope is welcome! Strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, fake dating, fantasy au, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, etc. Sky is the limit! Any kink is welcome as long as long as it is legal and between two consenting adults (no kinkshaming allowed! let people live!)
∴ All fanfics should be submitted before August 20th, 2023, and should be completed, tagged appropriately, and following our guidelines. They can be of any length and genre as long as they are fanfics and do not promote any hate.
∴ Please submit your entry by posting it on your blog and using our tag #skzwritingcafe as well as this month's tag #skzsummertimeconfessions in the first 10 tags. Your entry must indicate that it is a submission to our event. Please mention @skzwritingcafe + the event's name! Thank you!
Do not hesitate to reach out if you have any questions.
Happy writing & happy reading!
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44 notes · View notes
skzwritingcafe · 1 year
Text
Skzwritingcafe's July/August 2023 event ☀️
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Hello everybody! We'd like to announce our second event today!
The theme for this month will be: summertime confessions ~
∴ This event is for adults only. Please read our guidelines before submitting your work.
∴ Any trope is welcome! Strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, fake dating, fantasy au, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, etc. Sky is the limit! Any kink is welcome as long as long as it is legal and between two consenting adults (no kinkshaming allowed! let people live!)
∴ All fanfics should be submitted before August 20th, 2023, and should be completed, tagged appropriately, and following our guidelines. They can be of any length and genre as long as they are fanfics and do not promote any hate.
∴ Please submit your entry by posting it on your blog and using our tag #skzwritingcafe as well as this month's tag #skzsummertimeconfessions in the first 10 tags. Your entry must indicate that it is a submission to our event. Please mention @skzwritingcafe + the event's name! Thank you!
Do not hesitate to reach out if you have any questions.
Happy writing & happy reading!
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skzwritingcafe · 1 year
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🌸 May/June 2023 event: Blossoming love ( masterlist )
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≡ ... and they were camp-mates." (더 가까이~) by @astralis-is-typing
≡ Cacoethes by @143hyunes
≡ CHARCOAL BLUES IN C MINOR by @cb97percent
≡ Figure You Out by @writerastray
≡ Purple Hydrangeas by @changbunnies
≡ SAKURA by @j-0ne25
≡ We're Friends by @yoongihan
≡ 野生の花 - WILDFLOWER by @lavenderhhaze
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( Thank you to the authors for participating in our event! )
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skzwritingcafe · 1 year
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Cacoethes
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pairing: hyunjin x fem reader
genre: angst, fluff, smut (Minors DNI !!)
summary: So in conclusion: Hyunjin was not a creep. He just had a weird obsession with the stranger in the train. Hyunjin was an inquisitive person, which is why his favourite past time was observing people in the train. He would spend his way back home observing people and forgetting about them as soon as he left the train. So why couldn't he forget you?
playlist
warnings: strangers to friends to lovers, non-idol au, childpsychologist!hyunjin, alternating POVs, extreme pining (hyunjin is a simp), y/n is afraid of the dark, descriptions of a panic attack, hand holding (this is not the victorian era i swear), mutual pining, clubbing, mentions of puking, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), cum eating, fingering, nipple play, marking, protected sex, shower sex, dirty talk, faking an orgasm, mentions of a car accident, mentions of death (none of the MCs), ghosting
wordcount: 9.7k
a/n: my entry for the skzwritingcafe event for May-June. i hope you guys like it <33 this oneshot is kind of inspired by 500 Days of Summer (very loosely). pls leave leave feedback & reblog and lmk enjoy!
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cacoethes
noun RARE
an urge to do something inadvisable
an insatiable desire : mania
Day 1
There was a small but certain happiness in travelling by a train, though it is an inconvenience for many daily commuters during rush hours, Hyunjin loved it maybe because he travelled during the late hours, when there weren’t many people on the train but enough. He liked listening to music and daydreaming or observing people on the train from different walks of life. He always came to the conclusion that at the end of the day, even though everyone was different, the situations and problems they went through were similar which made them like-minded individuals.
It was just another ordinary day, Hyunjin was listening to one of his favourite ballads that day. Whenever one song ended and the silence that ensued till another song played,
brought him back to the real world, giving him a reprieve from his mind, reminding him that a world existed outside of his mind. This silence was a kind of faux silence, not loud but definitely enough to arouse him of his surroundings. Today however, there was a different sound that entranced him. 
Your laughter was like a siren song on treacherous waters, demanding his attention. Whatever song that played next seemed to ebb away as he looked for the source of the sound that was like music to his ears.
You were reading a book that was in your lap, he assumed that it must have been the reason for the peals of laughter. He couldn’t look away from you, how your hair fell on your shoulders, encasing your face that was concentrated on the book, the furrow of your brows, all this making you look adorable. 
   That night when he went home, after freshening up, Hyunjin sat in front of the TV, the TV which was on but the voices faded into the background as he thought of the stranger in the train, seemingly so oblivious of the world around her. No sound or movement was enough to break you away from the imaginary world you were seemingly in.
Hyunjin never understood people who would cry, laugh or get angry over books or tv shows and movies alike, because for him no form of media had ever evoked such emotions in him. Hyunjin reasoned that the only reason you wouldn’t escape his mind was due this empathy that he seemed to lack, there’s always envy in the absence of something. Yes, that’s all it was jealousy in the wake of humane curiosity, at least that’s what he told himself when woke up dreaming about you.
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Day 8
Hyunjin was not a creep, he was just an observer, it was kind of his job to observe and help people wherever needed. He had always been like this, not much of a speaker, quietly listening. His big eyes always curious and absorbing everything around him, like a natural instinct. Him studying you was no different than the other times he would observe strangers in the train, putting them in categories that he had made up. That’s what he had deluded himself into believing, reality however was a bit different.
You were different, he didn’t find himself looking for the silhouettes of other strangers on the daily, like he did with you. It had been 8 days since he first saw you and yet he couldn’t look away. It had become his second nature, to observe you everyday, reading a book every time. 
Your red nose was the first thing he noticed about you today and then the drops of water on your cheeks that he wanted to wipe away.
What? 
Hyunjin had no idea where that stream of thought came from,”Stop thinking about unassuming strangers in inappropriate ways. Seriously, get a grip on yourself man.”, he thought to himself.
The reasoning he gave himself for such thoughts was that it was his nature to want to comfort people in distress as a Psychologist and it’s not like he would act on his thoughts. So in conclusion: Hyunjin was not a creep. He just had a weird obsession with the stranger in the train.
When the internal monologue in his brain had quieted down, Hyunjin noticed the title of the book you were reading,’Before the coffee gets cold’, when you lifted the book to wipe away your tears and made a mental note to look up the book on the internet later when he reached his house later. 
He didn’t really read novels but he was curious about what made you cry, especially on public transport.
He was an emotional person but didn’t cry easily. Maybe this book would evoke emotions in him that he had buried deep down.
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Day 13
You had had a bad day at work today and just wanted to get lost in the world of one of your romance novels to wash away the stress of what was a tedious day of work. You loved your job as the assistant marketing manager and being part of the graphic design team, you really did, but your co-workers were hellbent on testing your patience like no one ever had. But you couldn’t just shun your duties, especially not if they were direct orders from your superior, which was to babysit the new intern and clean up after his mistakes. 
You would understand if it was just one mistake but he fucked up three times, posting the wrong ad campaign on the official social media account and consecutively deleting it. 
You had to take the fall for it obviously because he was working under you. You had to hold your tongue too because the moron had gotten his internship through nepotism and his relative was a higher up in the company. Office politics really were the bane of your existence and you vowed to dismantle hierarchy in the office (who were you kidding, you can’t even speak up when the waiter messes up your order). 
You inwardly cursed yourself for choosing an office job.
You wouldn’t say you were eager to travel from the train everyday, you didn’t care much for public transport. Yes, using it was good for the environment and all that but that’s not why you used it. Driving after a long day of work was stuff out of a nightmare for you. You saved money on gas and didn’t have to buy a car too. 
Plus you really liked reading your favourite books on the train, it was very different from your reading nook in your home, a different kind of good. You liked getting lost in a world other than yours, it felt like a reward somehow. 
That morning in the train, you had just gotten to the part where things were starting to get interesting in your novel but unfortunately you reached the station for your office.
You couldn’t wait to pick up where you left off that morning. 
“Lift your hips for me, love.”, reading that line had single handedly made you lose any shred of sanity you had left, you would scream into a pillow if you could. The book didn't have any explicit scenes in it but the overall sexual tension and buildup was, in your opinion, more satisfying and arousing to read than any explicit scenes. You really loved reading about people falling in love and slow burns. 
The giddy smile on your face however faded when the train screeched to a stop and everything went dark. You could feel your throat closing up, like it was closing in on itself.
Making you slowly lose control over your breathing and the small train compartment suddenly felt too hot. Your heart was beating so fast as if you had run a thousand miles a minute.
You felt like you were drowning when you heard someone asking you to focus on their voice, pulling you out of the water.
“I need you to focus on my voice and list 4 things you can feel.”, the deep voice said.
You listed them out:  A firm hand under your right palm, your book, the kind stranger’s soft breathe, your clothes.
“Okay, now can you please list 3 things that you can hear?”
“Your voice, something tapping against metal, the sound of my heart.”
“You’re doing great! Now list two things you can smell.”
“My perfume and sweat.”
“You’re okay now. List one thing you can taste.”
“My saliva?”
He chuckled at your answer that actually sounded like a question, the sound of his chuckle was like a hug of comfort in the daunting darkness. 
The train was moving again and the light was back in the next five minutes. You realised that you were still holding onto his arm and quickly released your grip on it, profusely apologizing for gripping it so tight that it left marks on his very soft skin. 
Gosh, just how much could you embarrass yourself in a single day!
He smiled a smile that could rival the brightness of a thousand suns and said that it was okay and asked if you were feeling better now. 
He was really pretty and your metaphorical jaw was on the floor and suddenly you forgot how to form a coherent sentence. 
The confused look on his face brought you out of your stupor and you knew you had to answer him soon before you embarrassed yourself further. “I’m okay now all thanks to you. So, thank you.” You managed to somehow make your voice sound both curt and squeaky at the same time. 
You could not make yourself look at him, much less have eye contact. So you just decided to look out the window. You saw him putting his head phones back on which you hadn’t even noticed were around his neck, in the reflection of the window. 
When it was your turn to get down you thanked the stranger again and slightly bowed to further show your gratitude.
   That night you couldn’t fall asleep so you decided to bake. You weren’t stress baking but rather ‘I-have-embarrassed-myself-too many-times-in-a-day’ baking. Though baking definitely didn’t help you forgot about the beautiful stranger.
Three hours of baking too many cookies for one person to consume later, you finally went to bed, exhaustion from the day catching up to you. You had to wake up in 4 hours and you were already dreading it. 
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Day 14
Today was turning out to be better than yesterday. Your cookies were a hit at the office as always. Your superior even forgave you for yesterday’s mishaps. Though he would never admit it, it was mostly because of your cookies. 
You even saved a box of them for the kind stranger from yesterday. Hoping that he would board the same train as yesterday and so you could properly thank him. 
When you saw the familiar tresses of his soft, long hair that made one want to run their hand through it, you sighed a breathe of relief. 
You hadn’t thought far and were sure you wouldn’t get to see him again today and words escaped you again.
You were rehearsing in your mind what you would say to him when you felt a pair of eyes on you and looked up to see him looking at you before he looked away. He seemed very interested in something out the window.
You decided that you would be brave and would stop acting like a shy teenager and just talk to him.
You tapped his knee to get his attention. “Hey I’m the girl you helped through a panic attack yesterday, I wanted to thank you for it. I baked some cookies and there were some extra so I brought them for you.” You offered him the box with the best smile you could muster.
When a few beats passed and he didn’t take the box from you, your confidence started to wane. The lone box suspended in the air awkwardly by your hands. “Uhm, nevermind.”
Of course, who would take the box of cookies from a strange lady on the train! No sane person that’s for sure.
You cringed as you slowly brought the box back to keep in your lap when he stopped you and took the box from you. 
“Thank you for the cookies, I was just really taken aback. Which is why I didn’t take the cookies at first, not because I thought that cookies were poisoned.” He said rubbing the nape of his neck. 
You laughed at his attempt at a joke. “It’s really okay, I would be skeptical of taking cookies from a stranger too. Thank you once again for yesterday. I’m really grateful because you were very kind and didn’t make me feel bad for having a phobia that children usually have. Other people haven’t been this kind.”
“You really don’t have to thank me. And I’m sorry other people weren’t as kind. Thank you for the cookies, I’ll enjoy them.” He said smiling, his eyes turning into crescents.
“I’m Y/N by the way.” You said extending an unsure hand for him to shake, did people even shake hands these days?
He laughed and shook your hand. ”I’m Hyunjin.” 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Day 22
It had been 7 days since Hyunjin had last seen you. Now it wasn’t like he was counting down the days or anything, he just wanted to return your tupperware. 3 days of not seeing you and he was worried, he wondered if something happened to you and if you were okay. 
On the 5th day he wondered if you were avoiding him, he recollected his last conversation with you for any indication of your behaviour that would suggest you were avoiding him. He came up with nothing and decided to stop assuming things. He didn’t want to admit it but he missed his the beautiful stranger.
After more than a week was when you came back. When he entered the train he could smell your perfume, the scent which was very similar to that of jasmines but not quite drove him up the wall. He would one day ask you what perfume you used.
When he sat down beside you, he handed you your tupperware. You smiled at him, then slowly shaked the box, raising your eyebrows at him.
“Those are blueberry muffins in the box, my mom has always said that you should never return tupperwares empty.” 
“I bought these from a local bakery though, I can’t bake as good as you.”, he replied, giving you a sheepish smile. 
“Thank you for the muffins, I really like these ones.”
“Oh, before I forget, why didn’t you use the train these last few days?”
“I got my periods and the first two days are really painful so I usually avoid going to the office on those days. And for rest of the days I don’t use the train because I have really bad backache.”
“Oh ok, I hope you feel better now.” Hyunjin was relieved your absence was not because of him.
“Yeah, I do.” You said smiling, pulling out your book of the day from your bag.
When Hyunjin noticed the book, grinning, he grasped one end of the book in your hand.  You gave him a quizzical look and were surprised by his sudden behaviour. “Is this the sequel to Before the coffee gets cold?”
“You’ve read Before the coffee gets cold? And to answer your question, yes it is” 
You had an amused smile on your face and he decided he would tease you. “Wow, I’m offended, you don’t think I could read a book just because I’m a pretty face?”
“Your words not mine dude. I just can’t imagine you reading this kind of an emotional book, you look like you only read academic textbooks.” You added with a hint of playfulness in your tone.
“Well I did read this book and I almost cried too, towards the end.”
“What do you mean almost cried? I was bawling my eyes out. In fact I’m pretty sure the pages of this book are covered with my dna.”
“I don’t know, I wanted to cry especially after the last chapter but my tears wouldn’t come out? It’s like I’m emotionally constipated.”
You laughed at his raw candidness, and he concluded that he could part seas to hear the sound again.
That day your conversation over the book lasted till you had to get down. Your voice increasing as you excitedly raved about the book. Hands gesturing around with a twinkle in your eyes, he couldn’t look away if he wanted to.
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Day 37 
“And then he stuck the gum he was chewing on my desk.” Hyunjin was currently telling you about his terrible work day. He part timed at a Government facility, which was a detention center for troubled teens. Today, he had to counsel a 15 year old who was downright rude and had charges on him for vandalism.
“I’m not saying I love my job but it beats having to deal with angsty teenagers on a day to day basis.”
“I mean, it’s not all bad, the other day this autistic girl made a card for me and it was really cute. Also I really like helping people and as sappy as it sounds, making a difference.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Hyune. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”
The use of the nickname didn’t go unnoticed by him, it wasn't the first you had used it but it made his heart flutter all the same. 
It had been a little over two weeks since he became closer to you and your friendship blossomed. 
You didn’t expect to find a friend in such an unlikely place, you looked forward to the end of every day, talking to Hyune about everything and nothing. Talking to him was as natural as winter turning into spring, the ice melting away so beautiful flowers can blossom. 
Just as suddenly as spring had come, he’d slowly warmed his way into your heart.
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Day 61 
You seemed to always forget the reason why you hated clubbing, which is why you always let Sakura drag you to one. She was your bestfriend and you loved her more than anything in the world but her habit of getting shitfaced drunk was something you wish you could break. 
You were currently two drinks in, enough to break you out of your shell but not quite enough that you could hit the dance floor. You downed three more to join Sakura on the dance floor. You don’t know when it happened but you were currently grinding up against a stranger and you could feel the outline of something was definitely not his phone. If you were lucky, you would get to go home with the handsome stranger.
At least that was the plan, before you got a call from Sakura, “Hello? Kkura?” The call got disconnected before you could get another word in. A few seconds later and you got a text from her.
kkura ♡ : washroom. NOW.
you : coming 
you : are u ok?
When she didn’t reply, you quickly apologised to the stranger and excused yourself. You started looking for the washrooms. When you found them, you entered to find Sakura hunched over the toilet seat, spilling her guts out. You slowly rubbed her back and removed your phone to call Han. He was also one of your bestfriends, he couldn’t come with you guys today because he was busy creating yet another track, life as a musical producer meant that even his Saturdays were spent labouring away.
The phone rang thrice before he picked up,”Hey Y/n. What’s up?”
“Kkura is really sick, can you come pick us up? It’ll be really hard to get a taxi from here.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there, text me the address.”
After texting him the address, you helped Sakura up and made sure she drank water. 
Both of you decided that waiting outside was much better, the music was just too loud. The entrance of the club was mostly deserted save for a few people smoking and a strange man that kept glancing in you guys’ direction. You know you were safe and that the man wouldn’t misbehave with people around but you still messaged Han to hurry up.
you : can you get to the club faster? there’s a really strange man here and i’m pretty sure he’s going to rope us into a pyramid scheme or a cult 
You were surprised when not more than five minutes later you got a call from Hyunjin. You wondered why he was up so late. Clearing your throat, you picked up. 
“Uhh, Hyunjin?”
“Where are you?” There was an urgency in his voice, tone frantic.
“Club Red Lights?” You meekly replied, unsure of the reason why he had called you.
“Stay right there, I’m coming to pick you up.”
“Wha-” Your words died on your tongue when you heard the line end.
You mentally smacked yourself when you saw that you had sent the message meant for Han to Hyunjin.
His concern for you made you feel warm inside or was it the alcohol you had earlier? 
Ten minutes later when Han arrived in a taxi, you helped a very dazed Sakura get in the car. You explained the situation to Han and how you were going to wait for Hyunjin. 
“Are you sure? Do you want me to wait here with you till he’s here?”
“Yes, I’m sure Hanji. You don’t need to wait for me, just make sure Kkura gets home safe.” 
“Okay if you say so.” He leaned in for a hug, when you were swiftly pulled away from the embrace.
“What the fuck” Han exclaimed, while you let out a gasp.
“Hyunjin!” 
“Is this the guy you were talking about?” 
“No Hyune, calm down. This is my friend, Jisung. The message I sent you was actually meant for him.”
“What message?” Han inquired, while glaring at Hyunjin.
“We’ll talk about this later Ji, you should take Sakura home.”
“Goodnight! Text me if anything, ok?” Han said embracing you.
“Yes I will, goodnight Ji.”
When the taxi drove away, Hyunjin turned to you with a sheepish smile,”I’m sorry for my outburst earlier, I was really scared when you messaged me so late.”
You couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks. 
“I’m sorry for scaring you, I was kind of buzzed when I sent that message, how did you even get here so fast?”
“I drove.” He replied, shrugging. “Shall we get going, where do you live?”
After giving him the address, you got in the passenger seat. The whole ride you couldn’t help but keep stealing glances at him, he looked so attractive driving. Seeing him in a striped blue and beige sweater was disconcerting, in a good way. You had only ever seen him in work attire, and he looked so stunning in them but him in casual clothes was somehow even better.
You tried to snap yourself out of it, and were convinced that the only reason you were ogling your friend was because of all the drinking you did earlier.
When you reached your apartment complex, Hyunjin insisted that he would drop you to your doorstep. On seeing how much you were staggering, he helped you to your bed. He even insisted on removing your heels for you. A shiver ran through your body when his big hand touches the straps on your ankle.
He’s going to leave soon, you don’t want that. You wish he would stay, even if it’s till you fall asleep. You don’t like saying bye even though you know you will meet him again.
Can’t you stay?
When he stops in his movements and looks up at you with his eyes widened, you realise that you said the sentence out loud. 
“I-uh-Sure.” He stammered. “Where do you keep your aspirin?”
“It should be in the cabinet near the refrigerator.” 
Keeping the glass of water and bottle of aspirin on your bedside table he noticed you were fast asleep, softly snoring. He smiled at the sight, pulling up your blanket to cover you.
He was getting ready for bed when he received your message. To say that he was worried would be an understatement. He drove to your location using the GPS, his speed astonishing even to him. He hadn’t speeded since that incident, and that was two years ago.
When he reached the location and saw you in your silk dress and your cheeks flushed due to the alcohol, he couldn’t help but think about how gorgeous you were. You were about to embrace a man and Hyunjin didn’t know what came over him. Was it Panic? Anger? He wasn’t sure, his only thought was to get you to safety.
He was endeared by the sight of you snuggling into your covers.His heart skipped a beat when you asked him to stay. Your desperation very evident when you uttered the last word. He decided it was best to leave now or he would really end up staying with you.
You woke up the next morning at 11am to the worst hangover you had ever had, the aspirin on your bedside table helped. You had to meet up with Sakura and Han in an hour for brunch, so you had a quick shower and got ready.
“Well well well, if it isn’t Ms. Y/N.” Han began in a voice that was too cheerful for you currently. 
“I’m too hungover to have a civil conversation with you right now, Han.”
“That’s too bad because I want to know who that guy was from last night and why you went home with him.”
“You went home with some guy last night?!” Sakura exclaimed.
“I didn’t “go home” with him, he just dropped me off when I sent him a text meant for Han. And he’s not just some guy, he’s the friend I made on the train.” 
“You went home with Train Hottie?!?” Both of them exclaimed in unison.
Your friends had dubbed Hyunjin as the ‘Train Hottie’ when you had told them about you having a panic attack in the train.
“Can you guys keep it down? My head is still pounding.” You scolded.
“Wait you never told me what the text was about.” You showed Han the text while shoving avocado toast in your mouth, which they had ordered for you.
“He thinks I’m a cult leader?!” Han replied slightly offended.
“It’s more likely that he thought you were some guy who roped people into pyramid schemes, Sung.” Sakura muttered, both of you bursting into laughter. 
Han just shook his head and playfully smacked Sakura’s hand.
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Day 98
Something was off today, Hyunjin noticed that as soon as he entered the train. You were slumped over in your seat, your head in your hands. As he sat down beside you, he nudged your shoulder,”Hey, you okay?”
You looked up, your eyes full of anguish as you figured out how to answer him, your mind at war, if you should be honest or not.
You decided you would go with the half truth.
“I-Just had a bad day at w-work.” You croaked, on the verge of tears.
“Can you take a day off tomorrow?” He asked. You just nodded, not having the strength to reply.
Hyunjin pondered for a minute before grabbing your hand.
“What? Where are you taking me ?” 
“I don’t know.” And he really didn’t, he wanted to cheer you up somehow and it wasn’t possible in a moving metal box.
Both of you got down at the next station, his hand never leaving yours. He didn’t know it but you always felt safe in his presence, it brought you comfort in times of hardship.
His pace quickened and you had to jog to keep up with him. As soon as you guys exited the subway, he looked for a convenience store. 
“What flavour of ice cream do you like?”, he inquired.
“Anything that doesn’t have fruit in it.”
He picked two packets of vanilla ice cream that was covered in chocolate and shaped like a chocolate bar.
“These are my favourite.”, he exalted grinning, his eyes turning into crescents. You couldn’t help the smile contorting your features, his childlike joy at buying his favourite ice cream contagious.
He went to the alcohol section to get a pack of 6 beer bottles and proceeded to pay for all the items. 
You quirked a brow at his combination of ice cream and beer but didn’t question him. 
You guys decided to go to the Namsan Tower, as you had coincidentally got down at Myeongdong Station. You spent the cable ride up in comfortable silence, save for the bouncing of Hyune’s leg against the floor of the cable car.
When both of you got down, he looked for a bench with the best view overlooking the city. Once he found it, he set the things down, taking out a beer bottle and opening it against the bench.
“Impressive.”, you said nodding. He made a show of removing his hat which made you giggle. 
“Okay have a sip of this but don’t drink it and then take a bite of the ice cream.”
You did as he instructed and you were taken aback when the chocolate melted into your mouth and the ice cream mixed with the beer. The chocolate paired so well with the malty beer, it left a different kind of burn in your throat which was washed away by the ice cream. 
Hyunjin waited with bated breathe for your reaction and let out a sigh of relief when you smiled up at him. He was happy to share his favourite food combination with you and even happier that you seemed to like it.
“It’s like the Mc Donald’s float but less sweet and for adults.”
“Yeah I guess it is, I was really drunk off my ass when I thought of this combination.”
“You’re a genius actually, I was really skeptical of it at first but it goes together so well!” 
He just smiled and you guys sat there for a few minutes, soaking up the scenery and drinking together. Until he broke the silence with his questioning,”So..do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
You sighed nodding and taking a sip of your beer,”I fucked up really bad at the office today and was reprimanded in front of the whole office. It was humiliating to say the least.”
“And? Is that all?”
“No..I’ve been wondering these days, if it’s all worth it?”
“You mean slaving away in that office every day to just put food on your table, even if it doesn’t make you happy?”
You were shocked at how he was able to articulate your feelings in just a sentence,”Yes..”, you let out a dry chuckle.
His hand found yours, thumb running circles on your hand, urging you to continue,”I just- I don’t know what my purpose is, you know? Like how you know what your purpose is and you’re doing so well too. I didn’t know what I wanted to do in college and I’m still the same, all these years later. Wasting my life away for a job I don’t even like.” You try not to cry and end up pouting.
“Do you want my honest opinion?” You nod.
“First of all, yes I do like helping people but it’s just a bonus. I’ve been obsessed with psychology for as long as I can remember, I’m just one of the lucky ones whose special interest happens to coincide with my “purpose”. The idea that everyone needs to have a purpose to be worthy of being a citizen of the society is such bullshit. Plus your purpose doesn’t always imply something you have to do to give back to the world. It’s all just part of the western capitalistic propaganda. What if I’m here to just have fun? What if this is my last life as a human? I think the pressure of having a “purpose” is too much especially for an 18 year old fresh out of high school. Even for a 23 year old like yourself, it’s too soon. I mean you have your whole life ahead of you to find out what it is. So really, you have nothing to worry about.” 
Hearing his words had lifted a weight off your chest, a feeling of catharsis filling you. He was your catharsis. His words comforting you like no one ever had.
 He looked so cute under the moonlight, his angry pout on your behalf making him even more endearing. Oh how you wish you could kiss him and feel those plump lips on every inch of your skin. You looked away before you actually gave in and kissed him.
“I-uhm”, you cleared your throat,”Thank you for saying that, you don’t know how much it means to me.” 
“Of course, anytime.” He said smiling and taking a big gulp of his beer. Which was consequently followed by a very loud burp, you turned towards him and started laughing clutching your stomach. The look of surprise on his face and dusting of red was priceless. “Uhm, that was on purpose, I wanted to make you laugh.”
“Sure whatever you say Hyune.”
“Anyways, is there not anything that makes you genuinely happy?”
You. That’s what you wanted to say but you couldn’t because of all of what it would imply. You weren’t drunk enough for that conversation.
“Baking. It calms me down.”
“Then you should open a bakery or a cafe.”, he said matter of factly.
“It’s not as easy as that.”
“But it’s not impossible, is it?”
“Well-”
“I think you shouldn’t give up before you even try it.”
“I mean I could freelance graphic design for a while alongside my job, save up money and lease a small shop.”
You had to leave the Namsan Tower as soon, it was closing, so you decided to sit outside a convenience store. 
You spent what felt like hours talking about your plans for your cafe. It was almost 3am when you both decided to return home.
“You can stay the night with me, you know because your home’s far from here. That’s if you want to.”
“Okay.” He says looking away.
You reach home around 3:30am. Hyunjin insists on sleeping on the couch but you are persistent. “It’s fine really, we’re two adults, we can share the bed.”
You give him a blanket of his own and get in the bed.
“Gooodnight.”
Goodnight, Hyune.”
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Day 99
Hyunjin had been watching you sleep for the past ten minutes, he found everything about you cute, the peaceful look on your face, the drool coming out your mouth. Oh he wished you had fallen asleep in his arms.
You slowly wake up due to the sunlight that was streaming in through the windows, your eyes getting used to the light. The first thing you noticed was his eyes, watching you intently, he would never hold back, be it his work or even just a simple gaze. The intensity in his eyes makes you blush and you’re hit with a sudden urge to kiss him.
Unbeknownst to you, that’s the same thing going through his mind.
A chant of:
kiss me, 
kiss me, 
kiss me, 
plaguing his mind.
His ragged breathing goads you on and you lean in.
Your lips meet in a desperate kiss, as if you’re lovers meeting after lifetimes apart. He bites your lip, eliciting a moan from you. His tongue enters your mouth, teasing your tongue.
When the both of you come back for air, his eyes are blown wide, lust evident in them. His carnal gaze setting you off more.
The second kiss you share is sensual, slow, while the first one was all teeth and tongues, this one is unhurried, exploring.
He sits up and you straddle him, the kiss becomes intense as your hand travels to his nape, the kiss deepening, while his hands explore your body.
You break the kiss to remove your top. When your lips are back on his, he continues his exploration of your body, now free of it’s constraints. He does quick work of your bra, that you don’t even realise he has removed it.
He starts smothering kisses on your neck, leaving a wet trail down the valley of your breasts. His plumps close around your right nipple while his nimble fingers play with your left one.You feel yourself shiver at the attention but he holds you steady and needy whines spill out of you as you grind on his hard on. His moans getting lost against your curves. His eyes never once leave yours, as your fingers thread through his hair, pushing him further against your chest.
 After what feels like hours of desperate moans that come out of your mouth, Hyunjin stops his ministrations on your chest, you would have come just from this if he continued any longer.
He removes his shirt, while you help him remove his pants. He initiates the kiss this time, as you keep grinding against his bulge. The sound of his husky moans drive you crazy. You pull away to trail kisses down his neck, his lips chase yours when you do so. But soon he gives into the pleasure your lips give him. You take your time sucking and licking consequently on skin in your downward descent, giving his nipples little bit of the attention he gave yours. You take your time leaving kisses on the hard muscles of his abdomen. When you finally reach the bulge in his boxers, you look up at him,”Can I?”
“Please”, his deeper than usual voice perhaps from long hours of sleep has heat pooling between your legs, the anguish in his tone sending you further over the edge.
You remove him from his constraints, his big dick red and angry. You smear the precum around his tip, giving kitten licks to the head of his cock. His needy moans are music to your ears, you tease him some more. Then you take almost half of his length at once, the way he stills in shock makes you feel proud of yourself. You start bobbing up and down his length that you can take, your hands stimulating the rest. His pleasuring guiding his actions, he thrusts up into your mouth, moaning loudly when you gag around him. Soon after he feels his orgasm coming, he tries to pull out of your mouth, you tap his thigh to let him know it’s ok if he came inside your mouth. He comes down your throat with an intense moan. You wipe your mouth and go back to kiss him. 
“You taste even better with my cum.” He breathes out.
“I want you on all fours for me, angel.” His commanding tone with the use of that nickname has you complying without any complaints.
This position makes you so much more vulnerable to him, his kisses start from the curve of your ass, he massages your venus dimples,leaving chaste kisses on them while he removes your underwear. 
You shudder under him as his kisses reach the nape of your neck, he whispers into your ear,”I want to pay you back for all the teasing but maybe next time. Today, I’ll just settle for ruining you.”
His large hand cups your cunt, the tips of his fingers so close yet so far from the place you really need him all while he whispers into your ears like the devil he is, all the things he will do to ruin you. You’re pretty sure you’re dripping down your thighs by now. His fingers finally enter you, scissoring you open, the motions making you weak, you realise you wouldn’t have fallen down if not for the steady hand around you. He adds a third finger all while nipping your right ear, you finally let go, your walls violently convulsing around his fingers. When you come down from your high, his question catches you off guard after all that’s been said and done. 
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! Yes, please. The condoms are in the first drawer of the bedside table.”
Rolling the condom on, he enters you in one swift motion, your body jerking forward but he catches you in time.
When you have adjusted to his length, he starts moving roughly.
“Fuck you’re so tight, even after I fingered you open.” 
The force of his thrusts make the headboard slam against the wall. The sound of banging, matching your moans. 
“Ahh-Hyune, please, please d-don’t stop”
You reached your high again after a particularly hard thrust, the sound of your moans reaching a volume they had never before. Hyunjin followed right after, his movements slowing down, his seed spilling into the condom. 
He pulled out and got up to get a towel to clean you. You hissed at the loss of him. After he cleaned you up, he peppered your face with kisses promising you breakfast and a day in watching movies.
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Day 112
It had become a routine for you and Hyunjin to spend the night at each other’s place. You would have sex, cuddle and then have dinner together. He would leave before you in the morning because work for him started early.
Today was no different, he ate you out on the kitchen counter before the both of you proceeded to the bathroom to wash the day off of each other.
But it wasn’t long before he was in you, your legs wrapped around his waist, back against the bathroom wall. His thrusts were rougher than usual, you wondered if he had had a bad day at work. 
That was before he uttered that name again.
“Ahh- Mina..I-” 
You stilled when he said that name, yet again, though he was not asleep this time. It had made you wonder if he was seeing someone else. Hearing that name brought back all of your insecurities, the thoughts of an orgasm now so far away now. He didn’t seem to notice or if he did he didn’t say anything, still chasing after his own high. When you felt him getting closer and closer, you clenched harder, moaning his name again and again. 
You were thankful it was his turn today to cook,you really wouldn’t be able to focus with your mind running a thousand miles a minute. You had felt your heart breaking when you heard him call out for that Mina girl in his sleep that Tuesday night. When you had told Sakura about it she had told you to ask him about it and you wished you could, you wished you were a confrontational person. Hearing your dilemma she told you to just ask him on a date and gauge his reaction. And you did, your heart beating, you were the most nervous you had ever been and the most relieved when he said yes. Your movie date was in 2 days on Saturday, you would go to a fancy restaurant after for dinner. 
You also wished you didn’t get attached to people so easily, you had only known Hyunjin for a little over 3 months but that didn’t stop you from falling for him, causing you inevitable heartache. You know you owed it to yourself to ask him about Mina, you decided it would be best to have this conversation after dinner.
“Hyune? Can I ask you something?” You asked while you were washing dishes and he dried them. 
“Yes, of course.” He replied, giving you his crescent eyed smile.
“Who is Mina?” You asked, trying to not sound accusatory.
His whole demeanor changed, he stopped wiping the cup in his hand.
He tried to school his features of any emotions but you noticed the sheen in his eyes. 
“Uh-She was my ex-fiancé.”
“Oh”, was all you could say, you had more questions but he was clearly very upset so you decided you would let him tell you in his own time. 
“Why, why do you ask?”
“Oh it- you mentioned her in your sleep.” You didn’t have the heart to mention the incident from before.
 You didn’t know if you were overthinking or if he was actually distancing himself from you. You could feel him building up walls around himself, walls you wanted to climb over and just embrace him.
He didn’t hold you that night, you deluded yourself into thinking that maybe it was because physical touch was just too much in that moment. 
You just lay there thinking and thinking about what went wrong, maybe you shouldn’t have asked him about her. Was he still in love with her? All your thoughts however ceased when you heard soft sobs from his side of the bed, wanting to hold him close but you knew would do no good. It would only make him distance himself more.
You don’t know when you fell asleep between trying not to let your tears fall and trying not to wipe away his tears. But your worst fears were confirmed when you woke up to the cold sheets beside you and your washroom devoid of his toothbrush.
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Day 114
Anyone would say it was a foolish thing to wait for someone for 2 hours at the movie theater, someone who had left one morning without saying a thing, someone who hadn’t replied to any of your calls or texts for the last two days, someone whose silhouette, with his headphones that you longed to see in that train, someone whom you missed a lot.
As you walked away from the theater with heavy feet, you thought to yourself about how now you had the confirmation that he was not coming back. 
Your time with him, however short, taught you that you were capable of love, of heartbreak. You came out of your first heartbreak gaining something, this is how you consoled yourself.
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Day 127
You were sitting in the same seat as you sat in everyday, everyday praying you could see him again, even if it was just once. It was as if he had disappeared into thin air or maybe your lonely mind just made him up, that’s why he always seemed so other-worldly. 
You were staring out the window as was routine for you these days, hoping to find him, always looking for him subconsciously. Your wet umbrella on your lap was soaking your clothes, but it didn’t matter. Your wet hair was stuck to your face but that too, didn’t matter.
From the corner of your eye, you think you saw his long black hair, your heartbeat quickening as you rushed to get out of the train, it felt like hours had passed when the doors opened.
You ran in the direction of the subway as that’s where he was headed, calling out to him but his pace only seemed to quicken.
You finally slowed down when he was on the fifth step.
“Hyunjin, please.”
That made him stop in his tracks, maybe it was the desperation or the pain evident with that last word. 
He turned around and you could swear that the world around you stopped, the pain in his eyes mirroring the pain in yours, while his heartache was caused by some stranger you didn’t know and yours was caused by him. He looked pale and his eyes were bloodshot.
You walked towards him, the reasonable part of your mind telling you to just walk away, to save further heartache and humiliation.
Standing a step below him, you looked up, trying not to sound weak while tears were welling up in your eyes,”Can we please talk?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Really? That’s all you have to say? Did our friendship mean nothing to you? Were the weeks we spent together so insignificant that you didn’t even bother saying goodbye?”,anger from the weeks alone catching up with you.
“Y/N-”, you flinch at his use of your name, your own name sounding so foreign on his tongue. 
“I-We can’t be together. I can’t be in a relationship right now.”, he croaked looking away.
“Then why did you lead me on? Why? When you’re in love with someone else?” 
“God-I, I never meant to lead you on, Y/N. And I’m not in love with someone else, my ex she-she died in a car accident, two years ago. She is dead.” He whispered the last sentence to himself, as if trying to remind himself of that.
He was staring into your eyes, looking for something, you tried to blink back the tears that were starting to build behind your eyes. You turned around then, tears starting to fall down your cheeks, walking away from him was probably one of the hardest things you had to endure.
When you were finally out of his sight, did you let yourself cry, smalls sobs turning into heaving. You cried for him then, his love, his loss, your love and your loss. You finally understood why he couldn’t love you, his grief was too big for his heart and you understood, you did. It still didn’t stop you from cursing the universe for bringing him to you with flowers and sunshine and letting him wash away with the rain. 
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Day 113
Hyunjin knew he was hurting you, when he heard you ask him about Mina yesterday, he realised he had called out Mina’s name while making love to you. He had wished hard that he hadn’t said it out loud, he felt guilty for thinking about someone else when he was with you.
He wished he could've processed his grief before he met you, he wished he hadn’t fought with Mina, he wished Mina hadn’t run away from him that night, he wished he didn’t feel guilty for holding you, loving you. He wished for the ghosts of his past to leave him alone. But that’s all he could do, all he had been doing his whole life.
He didn’t want to be weak and pathetic but he guessed he had always been that way, passive all his life, looking from afar, never taking action.
He knew he had to distance himself before he hurt you more than he already had. He knew it wasn’t right but sometimes not saying goodbye hurt less than actually saying goodbye.
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Day 127
It had been 15 days since he had last heard that voice, at first he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. He tried his hardest not to turn around and just run into your arms.
Your plea was what made him stop and reminded him of the wall he had built up to protect you.
He was devastated, his worst fears confirmed when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes.  
He had an epiphany that day, he really wanted to hold you, call you his again. In order to do that, he would have to get over his grief.
For the first time in his life, he decided he wouldn’t let life pass him by, he wouldn’t let you pass by, he would seek help to get to you.
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Day 235
For a little less than 7 months, you’ve been working hard to open your own café. It was just last month when you had finalised on a shop, paying the deposit for it. The shop was small but it had a homey feel to it, it was everything you were looking for and more. 
With help from your friends you had set up all the furniture and equipment, your café,’Eden’, would be opening in 5 days and to say you weren’t nervous would be a lie. You hoped all the ads that you had put up and the marketing you had done would pay off and that people would actually show up.
You had quit your job last month, starting the new year in your café, surrounded by people you love. It had been satisfying sending in the two week notice.You had been freelancing alongside your job the last few months. You don’t know why it never occurred to you that you could live off the money you made from doing freelance graphic design.  
Han and Sakura were bickering out front while you organised your kitchen, there was no way you were letting them near your kitchen, especially so close to opening day. 
Their bickering had suddenly stopped, there were only hushed voices now and it made you wonder what had happened. You went out to investigate and overheard their conversation.
“What do we do with this bouquet?”
“Don’t ask me stupid questions, Hanji. Of course we throw it out, we can’t let her know he was here.”
“Who has here?” You asked incredulously.
“Hyunjin, obviously you dummy. Who is the one asking stupid questions now?” 
“Jisung!” Sakura scolded hitting him on his back.
“Oww! What the-Oh Y/N”
You took the bouquet of Daffodils from the counter and ran outside.
“Y/N wait-” you heard Sakura call out.
You were glad when you found his retreating figure, his wide back and long hair making him easily recognisable.
“Hyunjin!” You yelled to get his attention. You were out of breathe when you finally caught up to him.
Returning the bouquet to him, you tried to stabilise your breathing.
“Y/N, wha-”
“I don’t take flowers from strangers.” He let out a sigh, running his hand through his hair.
“Your friends told me you were at home.”
“I don’t blame them for lying, they were just protecting me.” He winced at the bite in your tone, but he knew he deserved it.
“Look, can we please just talk?”
“I don’t think we have anything to talk about.” 
“Okay I deserve that but please just listen to me, once. I promise I won’t bother you again.”
“You have 30 minutes.”
“But-” You gave him a look that indicated you wouldn’t negotiate on this.
“Fine. But you will have to come with me somewhere first.”
You thought over his words for a minutes before letting out an exasperated sigh,”You better make this worth my time, Hwang.” You texted Han and Sakura in your group chat asking them to close up and letting them know that you would return late. You turned your phone on silent and walked to where his car was parked.
His bouncing leg was the first thing you noticed when you got in the car, the smell of jasmines was the second thing you noticed.
You could cut the tension in the car with a knife.
“Are you kidnapping me? Where are we even going this late at night?”, you joked.
“The Graveyard.”, was all he muttered before turning silent again. You didn’t know how to reply and wondered what was going on through his head. Why now?? 
The graveyard was grim and gloomy, like one always is. He got down without a word, grabbing a bouquet of jasmines from the backseat. You wordlessly followed his lead. 
When he finally reached the grave he was looking for, he bent down to put the bouquet near the grave stone and you heard him sniffle. 
“This is my first time visiting her grave. It’s been two years since and this is the first time.” He breathed out. You rubbed circles on his back to comfort him and urging him to continue.
“The night she died, the night of her accident, we had a fight. She just left with her car and I let her. If I just apologised, just let go of my ego for once…” 
“Hey it’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known. I know my words might seem empty but you can’t predict the future, it’s not your fault.” 
“I-I know.”
“I just never got over my grief, when she died I was just numb and threw myself into work. For the longest time I didn’t process that she had died.”
“Then I met you, I tried to deny my feelings for you so long, even before you had that panic attack. I would silently watch you, doing nothing about my growing feelings for you. When I finally had you, I felt guilty towards Mina, it felt like I was betraying what I had with her. I mean I was going to marry her.” 
“And when I realised I had hurt you, I was so angry at myself. I knew I had to do something, so I started seeing a therapist. You must think I’m pathetic, I mean what therapist goes to another therapist.”
“Hyune, there’s nothing wrong with seeking out help, you’re human too at the end of the day. Also I’m pretty sure many therapists go to other therapists on the daily.” Relief flooded his body at the familiar nickname and he felt just a bit better.
“I know, I do. I just can’t help but feel pathetic, you know? I lost the best thing that has happened to me in a long time and also probably the love of my life. My therapist said that I should visit her grave and on the same day I saw the ad for your café, I knew then that it was a sign.”
“What do you mean, a sign?” Your lack of a response at his confession didn’t go unnoticed by him but he continued anyway.
“I hadn’t realised that I needed help until I lost you, so when I saw your ad, I just knew I had to at least try to reconcile with you. I’m so sorry for being an asshole and ghosting you, there’s really no excuse. I’m truly sorry.”
“It’s okay I forgive you.” You reply without hesitating and you really had forgiven him and made your peace with the situation.
“Uh-I, thank you.”
“I should drop you home, it’s getting late.” 
Both of you walked back to the car in silence, this time it was a comfortable one.
When you got in the car, Hyunjin didn’t immediately start the engine.
“Uhh you don’t have to reply to my confession but I would like it if we could be friends again.”, he said, rubbing the nape of his neck.
“Who said I want to be friends?”
“Oh,, okay.” He said looking down at his hands.
“I love you too, Hyune.”
He looked up at that, his widened eyes searching yours to see if you were telling the truth or not. And then he did the unexpected : he kissed you.
His kiss expressed everything his words couldn’t, his love, his promises, his forever.
{The end}
a/n: tysm if you've reached this far! it's my first time posting such a long fic, i hope you liked it <33 i'm so sorry if there any typos, i didn't have time to proofread, pls lmk if there any mistakes :)
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skzwritingcafe · 1 year
Text
"... and they were camp-mates." (더 가까이~)
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⚝fic type: romance, young love
⚝genre/contains: han jisung x fem reader, summer camp!au, fluff, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pinning, both reader and jisung are over 18
⚝warnings: slightly suggestive
⚝word count: 5.8k
⚝inspo: mixtape:oh by stray kids
⚝A/N: this is my entry for the may/june blossoming love event (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠) happy pride month & an even happier 2 year anniversary of mixtape oh!! (the korean title is from han's verse in the song's bridge)
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“너와 두 눈을 맞추고서, 한 걸음 더 네게로...
계획을 세워봐도, 여전히 네 앞에 서면 나는 애야”
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The great oak doors opened with a familiar creak as you stepped into the reception of your long-time summer camp. Nothing had changed. Nothing really ever changed here. Year in, year out and this lodge remained tried and true. You had attended this camp almost every summer for the past six years. Both your parents had incredibly demanding jobs. Since they couldn’t keep you entertained for your entire holiday themselves, they had figured camp was a good alternative to leaving you at home to your own devices all day. You hadn’t liked the idea at first, but this place gradually grew on you… its carefree and youthful aura was something you’d always reminisce on. It was out of the city, away from all the noise and rush. The camp was bordered by a forest on one side and a lake on the other; the fresh air was always so soothing to your lungs, particularly on the first week back here. Whether a kid liked being outdoors or not, this place had a way of expanding one’s perspective on what fun could look like.
You ran a finger along the smooth brown reception desk as you took in your surroundings. The familiarity of the place made you sigh; the tension you didn’t know you were holding slowly easing off your shoulders. Cheesy motivational quotes and colourful posters about camp activities were tacked onto the notice board beside the desk.
On the counter, a jar of sweets glinted invitingly in the soft sunlight seeping through the room’s large open windows. They came in handy especially in the first few weeks of camp, when the receptionist needed to calm down the kids who ran in demanding to phone their parents and have them pick them up. It was a regular occurrence with the younger campers, you had behaved that way too on your first summer. Some of the best– and worst– moments of your childhood had happened at this camp. You’d broken limbs, learned how to swim, cycle and bake here… As well as more unconventional feats, such as learning how to pick a lock with a hair pin.
The reception had received a fresh coat of paint since you were last here, the beige tint no longer chipping to reveal the dulling white beneath it. You dinged the tiny bell on the table top and took a seat at the orange couch beside the door as you waited for the receptionist to come in. You came back this summer as a junior Counsellor to earn a little extra cash before you joined college. Familiar as the place was, you were sure this summer would be a relatively different experience considering your new position and the fact that you wouldn’t be spending it with the friends you had made here. It would be rather boring without them all, you thought, as you knew most of the other junior Counsellors would be unfamiliar faces.
The receptionist walked in through a side door after a few minutes and beckoned you forward with a warm greeting so you could register your name in the counter book and receive your pass. You can’t help but smile as you take in the photographs still stuck to the wall behind the desk. They were from three years ago, when your camp’s rowing team had competed in a tournament and won. Under the generic congratulatory banner, you could see your own toothy grin (and pimpled forehead) staring back at you. Right next to it was one particular chubby cheeked boy who was smiling triumphantly as he held his hand up in a peace sign. You let out a small laugh at the memory of the cheesecake-loving boy who’d simultaneously annoyed the hell out of you and elevated your stays here to astronomical levels of fun.
“Hey baby!” Came his unmistakable voice from behind you. It made you spin around in shock. The Han Jisung was leaning against the door frame, a crossbody bag slung across his broad chest and a large box cradled in his arms.
The nickname 'baby' had always fallen so easily from his lips, in the same manner one would casually use ‘bro’ or ‘mate’. He hadn’t changed all that much… still had those insanely chubby cheeks and annoyingly perfect waist. His sense of fashion had improved tremendously, yet still looked very Jisung-esque; comfort had always been the most important element to his dressing.
“Jisung? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” he countered with a wink, walking in and setting the box down on the counter. “Can’t deny I’m not happy to see you, though.”
He turned to the receptionist then. “These are books I’d, uhm, borrowed from the camp’s library… over the years… and forgotten to return.” He explained with his signature grin, hoping to charm the older man into letting him off the hook. Soon enough he'd check the 'return by' dates and realize that some of the box’s contents had been under Han Jisung's bed at home for about four years now. If it wasn’t for his pestering mother they’d still be there, honestly.
You scoffed, trying to ignore the swell of his bicep as he leaned an arm on the counter. “You read?”
Jisung stuck his tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes when the receptionist opened the box to reveal dozens of comics. “These don’t count as books, Jisung.”
“They do, too.” He challenged back indignantly.
“You don’t read.” You stated with finality as the receptionist went back through the side door he came in from.
“Yes I do.” Jisung countered adamantly as he leaned towards you and tapped your nose with his finger. You groaned and leaned back, stifling the laugh that was climbing up your throat.
“So what’s your deal?” he asked, changing the subject with a teasing pout of his lips as he poked your side. “Missed this place that much?”
“I’m here as a Counsellor.” You explained shortly, paying no mind to his antics. Jisung had a habit of trying to rile you up for no apparent reason. He seemed to find great fun in it.
“Well look at that, baby!” He said with exaggerated glee, showing you his pearly white teeth as he smiled wide. You narrowed your eyes at him, fighting back the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
“We’ll be spending one last summer together,” he gushed, emphasizing each word with an affectionate pat on your shoulder.
You watched Jisung scribble his name just below yours in the worn out counter book. You couldn’t believe your luck, this had to be some kind of joke.
The two of you had a history.
You remember the summer Han Jisung had serenaded you by the campfire, all in the name of having you lend an ear for his new song. The dark haired boy had sung his heart out while dutifully strumming his guitar. You recall the way he hadn't broken eye contact for a second, the crackling fire illuminating his determined face. The performance had ended with him shyly confessing that you had inspired the ballad.
That had also been the summer you’d had to untangle him from his mosquito net. Yeah, not Jisung’s finest moment.
None of his roommates had managed to free him and you had for some reason been deemed an expert in such cabin room catastrophes. He’d snuck a kiss to your cheek as you finally freed his fragile legs from the net. (A kiss you’d immediately wiped off as the other campers began to holler and croon sickly sweet love songs.)
When he’d walked in, Jisung’s stomach had done a funny flip at the sight of you. After all this time…
The effect you had on him was as strong as when he’d last seen you. He started teasing you out of habit, the urge near instinctual after all these years. What else was he supposed to do? That was his only way of masking the true nature of his feelings. You absolutely captivated Han Jisung, in just about every way possible. Unknown to you, he had been under your spell for years now. Sure, you’d probably caught on at one point or another that he had a crush on you, but it ran deeper than that. Jisung was enthralled by the way your brain worked, and the unique solutions you found to problems. Though a bit of a genius in his own right– especially musically– Jisung was rather scatter-brained and your efficiency and structure was something he’d always admire. In addition to that you had the prettiest eyes he’d ever had the pleasure of looking into.
As you walked side by side, Jisung grappled with how he was going to keep things light and friendly between you two. Internally, he knew that he was fighting a losing battle.
The two of you made your way to the centre of the camp where the senior Counsellors were dividing duties. Nayeon, your favourite Counsellor from your time at camp, handed you your own schedule. It turns out you would be working with the younger kids. Not a bad deal considering you’d been on babysitting duty for most of your life, being the oldest sibling and all.
Jisung, who was seated next to you on the sturdy log, grinned as he read his own sheet and nudged you with his elbow when he reached the end of the slip.
“Looks like we’ll be cabin-mates, baby.” He declared. Your eyes widened at that, scanning through your own paper to confirm his statement. Indeed, you would be holed up with Han Jisung for a whole month.
You sputtered, blaming the sudden heat creeping up your face on the sun overhead, and looked up at Nayeon with your mouth slightly agape.
“You’re the same age,” she pointed out, shrugging. “And you know each other. I figured it would be more comfortable than rooming you with strangers.”
Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your mind ran a mile a minute, providing you with scenarios of how this could possibly turn out. You struggled not to give any outward indication of the thoughts clouding your brain.
“Unless you want me to change it…” Nayeon offered kindly, noticing the panic dancing in your eyes despite your efforts to conceal it.
You looked over at Jisung, who’s heart-shaped mouth had formed a slight pout at Nayeon’s suggestion. He quickly dropped it when he noticed your gaze.
“Uh… no, no. This will be fine.”
“Are you sure, sweetie?” She double-checked.
“Yeah, sure. Positive.” You cleared your throat that suddenly felt very dry. You quickly racked your brain for a reason to excuse how flustered you were. “I was just- Jisung’s really messy so I was a little-”
“Am not.” He countered childishly, looking slightly offended. Unfortunately for him, the slight upwards quirk of his mouth betrayed the charade.
“I’ve heard the horror stories.” You teased with a raised brow, referring to the tales you’d heard from his previous cabin-mates.
“Well,” Nayeon cut in, shaking her head in amusement. “If the arrangement is alright with the both of you then I’ll leave you to it.”
She smiled good-naturedly before moving on to her other colleagues who had queries.
Rooming with Jisung wasn’t all that bad. Both of you were shy at first and kept to your respective sides of the small cabin. The room had two bunk beds and Jisung kept his mess to his top bunk. Sleep had evaded you on the first night and he’d actually offered to sing you to sleep. It had worked wonders and over the next two weeks it became somewhat of a routine.
The only time you got in each other’s way was rushed mornings when you needed the bathroom at the same time. You didn’t spend much time in there anyways, already swept up in the flurry of activities that camp provided. In truth, you just wanted to avoid the blush that graced your cheeks whenever he walked in all sleepy to brush his teeth, muttering a ‘hey, baby’ with his gravely morning voice. The domesticity of going about your morning routines together got to your head faster than you expected it to. Perhaps what made it worse was when he had to lean over or behind you to grab something on your end of the sink.
One morning he’d full-on wrapped an arm around your waist as he reached over and snagged your scented lotion. Jisung thought he was being all slick but the proximity ended up flustering him even more than it did you. You’d feigned annoyance at his seemingly endless antics, scolding him and trying to pry the bottle from his hand. Jisung, stubborn as ever, wasn’t giving it up that easily and cheekily brought his face closer to yours with puckered lips. You’d recoiled immediately with wide eyes and he laughed in delight, savouring his victory as you narrowed your eyes at him and stormed out of the bathroom before he got to see the smile you couldn’t seem to fight off.
It felt like the kids wanted to try out everything at once. On days you seriously needed some down time, you’d get one of them to start up a game of hide and seek. That kept them busy for a good hour, sometimes more depending on the number of participants.
Hide and seek had always been a popular game at camp. The game’s rules were different here– and a seeker finding you didn’t automatically mean you had lost. Once found, you and the seeker had to race to where they’d been counting; whoever got there first won. If you lost, you had to join the seeker in their quest to find the rest of the campers.
Three summers ago, you’d hidden in one of the camp’s two treehouses with Jisung during a game. When it began you had quickly dashed up there, expecting to find the space empty. You had nearly tripped over Jisung who was crouched near the door. He’d managed to steady you and put a finger to his lips conspiratorially. You wanted to whine and tell him to find another spot but at that moment the seeker announced they were done counting.
Jisung had clamped a hand over your mouth and pulled you in before you could protest… adrenaline running high as you both pressed against the wooden inner wall. He was closer to the door, so you curled around him– placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you peeped at the scene below you two. The sky was quickly darkening outside, darker shades of blue streaked with hues of violet creating a beautiful background to complement the moon's faint glow that cast tall shadows behind the scurrying campers. The moonlight slipped past half-drawn blinds through the window above you, a sliver of light dancing across Jisung’s soft cheeks. He had them puffed out as he held his breath, looking over the door’s landing. You could make out half his face, the other half silhouetted in the dark tree house. He looked rather beautiful this way, the sharp line of his nose against the light and soft curve of his round eyes making him look like a painting. The realization momentarily stole your breath away.
When he turned around suddenly, your noses almost bumped together. It occurred to you with a start how close you were to him. He didn’t move away though, eyes gleaming with mischief in typical Jisung fashion as he took note of the proximity. You didn’t pull back either, transfixed and still a little dazed by everything. It took you way too long to notice you were staring at his lips. It wasn’t until he let out a soft chuckle that you slightly moved back, the breath of it fanning against your own lips. Your heart had fluttered annoyingly when you returned your gaze to his brown eyes.
“Have you ever kissed someone?” You asked quietly. The dark of the evening was working like liquid courage and brazenness uncharacteristically came easily to you. Jisung looked taken aback by your question, eyes widened as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip nervously and picked at his dark blue nail polish. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, hoping against hope that you were suggesting what he thought you were. He nodded his head, adding as he looked away, “Never a girl, though.”
“Oh,” was the only reply you could come up with, unsure of how to continue the conversation.
He faced you again, now grinning. You knew that look and groaned, already being able to tell the boy was about to say something stupid.
“You could change that.” He suggested with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes, mumbling something under your breath about how you ‘didn’t mean it that way’– yet you still brought his face closer to yours with slightly shaky hands.
“Your insufferable.” You said as menacingly as you could, but the twinkle on your eyes betrayed you.
Jisung’s breath caught in his throat when you held his face in both your palms, cold from the air outside. He hesitantly brought one of his own hands to your cheek before closing the space between you two.
The kiss was soft, just a slow brush of your lips– neither of you confident enough go beyond that. In any case, you didn’t have the time to, hearing someone– undoubtedly the seeker– climbing up to the treehouse. You quickly broke apart and stood up, preparing yourselves for the impending race.
Your lips still tingled faintly as he looked at you and sharply nodded his head once. You nodded back, mouthing, “On three…”
As the days stretched on, hanging out with Jisung in between your duties proved to be a fun past time. Sure, he still teased you a lot, but more than made up for it by making you laugh hysterically. He’d been the mood maker during your time as a camper. Jisung always managed to rally the other kids’ spirits and always had a great story for the nights spent around the campfire.
On your second Saturday back at camp, you two were seated outside your cabin as you usually did when you were both off duty. It was the onset of summer the small room felt too stuffy at times. You’d helped him make sure the older campers he was in charge of weren’t getting into any trouble before retiring for the night. For those rascals, truth or dare had become riskier and ‘7 minutes in heaven’ was now the go-to game for a night spent indoors.
You and Jisung recalled one such occasion during your own teen years when he had lied you were his girlfriend to get out of kissing Felix in a game of spin the bottle. You didn’t understand why he’d done it; Jisung had kissed virtually all his friends at least once– and Felix was no exception. You’d now found yourself in the middle of the drama, your other campmates still demanding a kiss between you two to keep the game going.
Felix had eyed you sceptically as you fumbled for a way to back out. That boy had been Jisung’s bunkmate that summer and the previous one as well. Felix would surely have known if the two of you had something going on; the campers had a habit of sneaking into each other’s cabins when they dated.
The freckled boy’s voice was so low in the morning that it had scared the shit out of Jisung every day for the first two weeks spent as his bunkmate. The two of you burst out laughing at the memory of him spraining his ankle on the first week of that summer, having fallen out of bed at the sound of Felix’s rumbling morning voice. It had resulted in Jisung having to trade in the much coveted top bunk to prevent any chance of breaking a limb in his spooked frenzy.
“Hey! You wouldn’t have fared any better!” he managed between laughs, trying to save some face. “It’s hard to convince your brain at six in the morning that no, there wasn’t any demon under you plotting to drag you into the underworld.”
The conversation then shifted to your future plans. Every new thing Jisung discovered about you left him yearning to know you at a greater depth. Jisung was going to study music and producing, naturally. He was still nervous about it, stomach churning from the thought of the calibre of classmates he’d have at the college he was accepted to.
“You’ve got the talent and the drive for it,” you reassured him with an earnest smile. You leaned your hand on your palm as you gave him your full attention, genuinely interested in his aspirations. You knew Jisung didn’t open up to many people about these things, afraid that they’d find his ranting tiresome. You wanted to make sure he knew you enjoyed listening.
Jisung couldn’t hold eye contact for long- eyes straying from yours every now and then. You were sat there looking at him with that look you had cast on him so many times before; one that made his stomach do backflips. It was a look of trust… of belief that his thoughts were not only valid but mattered. There weren’t that many people out there who took their time to just listen in the way you did. Not only to him; Jisung admired the caring nature you extended to everyone around you. It’s one of the things that made you a great Counsellor; the kids felt not only safe, but also heard when with you.
“Don’t look at me like that!” He whined, subconsciously hiding his flushed face behind his hand.
“Like what?” You chuckled. You fought back the flustered panic rising in your chest. Had your eyes let on too much? You were usually good at schooling your smitten expression in front of Jisung (or so you thought) but it seems the comfort of the moment had made you drop your guard.
“Like that,” He explained unhelpfully, wiggling his fingers in your direction. It really wasn’t like Jisung at all… the way he talked to you, treated you and behaved towards you made him seem so immature. Everything he said ended up sounding childish. It was rapidly getting worse the closer you two grew.
“Anyways,” he said, shaking his head and trying to regain his wits. “I’ve been working on something. Would you like to hear it?”
“If you’re going to try serenading me I swear-”
“No, no,” he laughed, getting shy again at the memory of that night so many years ago. “It’s…”
He trailed off, not wanting to give too much away. “I don’t want to give any spoilers!” He stood up and gestured for you to do the same. “Just come inside.”
Jisung turned on his laptop– his only possession separated from the heap of clothes and his other belongings sprawled on his top bunk– and pulled up a file labelled ‘Close’. He kept his eyes trained on the floor as he played you a snippet. The song had an upbeat and floaty vibe to it, the kind you loved. It eased the weight of the lyrics that carried such unaffected depth, typical of Jisung’s song-writing. He blushed as you praised him when the track-in-progress came to an end, attempting to downplay how good the song really was, but you didn’t let him. He cleared his throat, struggling to explain the meaning behind the song when yet again faced with your undivided attention. Around you all the bright ideas in his head came out messy and uncoordinated, even when he’d thought about what he wanted to say beforehand.
You held out your hand as you hit the replay button on his laptop and pulled him up.
“Dance with me?” you asked simply. It wasn’t really optional, considering you’d already brought him to his feet, but Jisung wouldn’t have declined anyways. You put your hands on his shoulders as you danced in the small space between your two beds. He tentatively brought his hands up to your waist with a small grin.
“Better not crush my toes with your great big feet,” he teased, taking one step closer to you and laughing as you swatted his chest with a grumble. Holding you in this way shouldn’t be having the effect that it is on him. But what did he expect? Every time he so much as looked at you for too long his breath caught in his throat. As always, the only distraction Jisung could find from the feelings blossoming within was to poke fun at you.
The song came to an end as the two of you were swaying silently, simply enjoying the moment. In any case, you both lacked the courage to do much else. Without realizing it, you had gotten closer– way closer then when you’d begun… but neither of you could find the will to pull away.
He should honestly just go for it.
Jisung was honestly one of the suavest guys he knew. It shouldn’t be this difficult. Why was it, anyways? He was a grown man, he reasoned to himself. Kissing his crush didn’t have to be like pulling teeth. Jisung shook his fears away as he held your chin in between his fingers, eyes imploring your own. You slipped your arms around his neck and he shut his eyes, letting you close the gap between you two.
The kiss felt different from anything he’d experienced previously. Your lips pressed against his with so much care, conveying everything you couldn’t put into words.  When you pulled away your pretty eyes remained focused on his lips in a way that made him want to dip back in for more. Everything about you did.
He held you close to him by the waist, loosely enough in case you wanted to step back. You placed a hand over his chest, eyes telling him all he needed to know as you felt his heartbeat pick up under your palm.
“Hey…” he chanced, rocking you slowly to a rhythm no one else but the two of you could seem here. You appeared to be waltzing… lost in each other’s gazes as you both slowly shed the layers of pretence keeping you apart.
“Hmm?” You replied softly, careful not to break the comfortable silence.
“Be my girl,” he pleaded. Jisung drew you into a hug and leaned his cheek against yours, sighing at his lack of tact. You pulled back and smiled coyly at him before you playfully danced out of his reach. You plopped down on your bed, not anticipating the way he followed you and kneeled at your side so you were somewhat at eye level.
“Why should I?” You asked with your eyebrow raised and hands crossed over your chest. You’d expected a clever quip in return but he merely pouted at your answer.
“Haven’t I proven myself enough?” he whined. In spite of yourself, you reached out a hand and threaded your fingers through his hair. It had grown longer in the time he’d been here, brown strands tickling his neck. He sighed at the feeling, weighing his next words before he spoke again.
“Have you ever had sex before?”
The question stumbled out ungracefully. Its randomness made you raise your eyebrows and laugh. If it were anyone else, he’d have probably been able to say that smoother, maybe slip a warm palm up your thigh. But no, around you Han Jisung was an idiot. 
You nodded your head, then– as if you’d suddenly recalled something funny–  grinned and added, “Never with a boy, though.”
The reference had him chuckling in spite of his nerves, helping him relax a little. Of course, this peace was disrupted by what you said next.
“You could change that…” You suggested, trailing off in your slight uncertainty. You cleared your throat when Jisung looked at you blankly, examining your hands like they were suddenly the most interesting thing in earth as you tried to look anywhere in the room but him. He laughed quietly and brought your face back round to face him.
“You’re insufferable,” he said softly, teasing glint still dancing in his eyes. Jisung brought up his hand to your face and leaned in for the second time that night. The kiss was firmer this time round. His lips moved against yours with a newfound determination, tongue sliding against your lips and seeking entrance beyond them. His other hand trailed up you your arm to gently tug at your elbow, moving you closer to him.
You pulled him up onto the bed and he hit his head on the top bunk in the process. He groaned as he sunk down and you couldn’t help but break the kiss to laugh at him.
“See what I go through for you?” he joked, rubbing his forehead with a grimace.
“Okay,” you conceded. “I’ll give you a shot.”
“Really?” He exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement and reddening forehead forgotten.
“Just for the summer…” You negotiated. “You’re on probation.”
“Well, that’s better than nothing,” he shrugged before laying down on your bed and pulling you on top of him. You straddled him as your head lowered to his once again, closing your eyes as the feeling of his lips against your own and hands roaming your body engulfed you.
You woke up to the soft morning light slipping under your curtains and the feeling of Jisung’s breath against your neck. He’d nuzzled himself there and was borderline laying on top of you. He looked so peaceful like this, his toned back rising and falling with each breath he took. His leg was thrown over your own and you gently pried him off so you could go to the bathroom.
You gazed at your reflection in the sink’s mirror, noticing a very conspicuous mark that you’d have to cover up later. You ran your fingertips over it, smiling like an idiot. Why was it so hard for you to admit your feelings for this guy? Everyone could see there was something deeper between you two. Even one of the kids had pryingly asked if he was your boyfriend.
Every summer, all the relationships the two of you might have had over the school year dissipated into thin air the second camp began. Jisung seemed to forget the relevance of them all when you were in question. On your end, you struggled to mask your smile when someone brought his name up. Both his goofy and serious side were so special to you. His serious expression as he jotted down lyrics used to make your stomach flutter– you realized it still did when he was talking about his song to you last night.
You gazed at your reflection again, searching your own eyes for an answer you already held within you… could you be falling in love?
The weeks flew by and before you knew it, your final time at this camp was coming to an end. You and Jisung had been… busy, in between your Counselling duties. There were several times over the course of the past few weeks when you’d woken up in his bed instead of yours.
Nevertheless, you’d surprisingly enjoyed your duties. The kids this summer where a nice lot, especially considering you hadn’t been assigned to deal with the older ones. It was harder for them to take your instructions as they could see you weren’t much older than them. You didn’t know how Jisung managed.
On the last week you and Jisung were yet again sat outside your cabin, sharing a pack of gummy bears.
“So… am I off probation now?” he asked teasingly.
“Still thinking about it.” You deadpanned, resolutely staring ahead into the darkness.
“C’mon don’t be difficult,” He whined. “Admit it, I’m the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”
“Nope,” you said, giggling. “You’re the only boyfriend I’ve ever had.”
“So that automatically makes me the best!” He argued with a grin. “No competition… you’d just be comparing me to me.”
“I said you’re my first boyfriend, not first relationship,” you corrected him. “Don’t get to cocky,” you said throwing him a wink.
It was comical, really, the way he pouted at your answer. His eyes suddenly lit up as he dragged you up from your seat.
“Where are we going?”
“Just follow me.” He said with faux exhaustion, mumbling about how stubborn you were.
The stars twinkled above you and you could hear that distant hooting of owls from your surrounding forest. The moon proudly lit your path as you recognized it as the route to the camp’s old well. It had no use really, and hadn’t in about 15 years.
You remember your third summer at camp when Jisung had jumped into it after you’d rejected him.
He’d stayed down that well until a Counsellor had to grudgingly get him out. Jisung had been a menace at the time. The only Counsellor who’d managed to tame him was a junior named Minho. He didn’t seem to care about how much grief he caused them during activities- always stirring up some kind of mischief. You’d frequently catch him looking your way, as if he was specifically waiting for your reaction to his antics.  Jisung liked to see you laugh at his jokes, beyond giddy to know he’d contributed to that beautiful smile of yours. He always strived to make his mark, he didn’t want to just hang or linger around you… a brief distraction that you’d forget by the end of the day. For reasons unknown to him, Jisung had wanted to be more than that to you.
Just like back then, he sat on the well’s edge.
“Be my baby,” he asked, already struggling to bite back a laugh. He threw in a ‘please’ for good measure. “I swear I’ll jump in if you say no again.”
The well’s depth wasn’t as deep or intimidating now considering you were both full adults, but the thought of having to haul him out in the dead of night did not sound appealing, so you agreed immediately. You chuckled as he stood up and made his way to you with a visible spring in his step.
“You’re so stubborn.” You scolded him as he gallantly took your hands in his.
“Annoying, childish, a thorough idiot...” He confirmed, taking another step closer to you. “Who's low-key in love with you.”
“Completely insufferable...” was the last thing you managed to stutter out before he crashed his lips into yours, cradling your face in both his hands. He titled his head and deepened the kiss after a short while, nearly tumbling you both over in the process. You snorted into the kiss and the two of you broke apart in peals of laughter.
It seemed that no matter how many times he did this, he was still messy, still uncoordinated and not much unlike the young campers you watched over.
In front of you, his love, Han Jisung was still a kid.
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⚝A/N: Thank you for reading (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆ This concept has been in my mind since May aah I'm happy to finally have it completed. If you enjoyed the story kindly reblog!
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skzwritingcafe · 1 year
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Hello! I posted my entry today. Sorry I went a little past the deadline (in my timezone it's still the 26th)😭 should I tag you in the fic or are the tags enough?
Thank you for hosting this event!
Hello! Don't worry about the deadline, I'll reblog your work anyway!
As per our guidelines, submitted entries must be tagged accordingly (#skzwritingcafe, #skzblossominglove) & must mention in the post that the fic was written for our event, which you did!
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skzwritingcafe · 1 year
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Figure You Out
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Disclaimer:
⚠︎ My works are all protected. I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting. Please reblog if you want to share it.
⚠︎ This work is only appropriate for adults over the age of 18. Ageless/blank blogs will be blocked.
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-> Word count: 6.1k
-> Relationships: Bang Chan/afab!Reader
-> Rating: 18+ → Mature/Explicit
->Genre/Tropes:   Sexual Tension, Smut. Other Additional Tags to Be Added. (Spoiler tags: Friends to Something more.)
-> Warning tags: Cheating, Alcohol, Explicit Sexual Content. Other Additional Tags to Be Added.
-> Synopsis: You were in a nightclub with your boyfriend and his friends when your gaze locked with Chris, and from that moment, the night took an unexpected twist, blurring the boundaries between morality and desire.
This fic is part of the @skzwritingcafe May/June event "Blossoming love🌸"
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They say spring means new beginnings and love. A time when flowers bloomed and drew people to their beauty, delicacy, and scent, as well as to spread hope for a better future.
You didn’t like spring, and neither did you see the appeal in pretty flowers. 
For you, they only attract bugs, make allergic people suffer from the pollen, and died too fast.
Yet you got red roses, with their borders decaying in brown, from your boyfriend to commemorate your six months together.
"Are you ready?" Tae yelled from the living room.
Lily’s bed was cozy and soft, and you could sleep right there if it wasn't for the music blasting in her small speaker. She was finishing her makeup. The baby pink walls were covered with posters and pictures from her travels. Her small frame crammed into a black leather dress, her skillful fingers applying eyeliner.
Tonight, you were going out to a nightclub. 
"Almost," Lily screamed back, taking it off her bobby pins that held her red bangs in a curled wave. You heard your boyfriend’s ‘for fuck’s sake’ from the door.
You went to her window, bored already. They lived near the park.
In the morning, all the trees were filled with pink, purple, and yellow flowers. Now, at night, you could see some of them stomped on. 
Lilly was still putting lipstick on when you got your purse and headed to the kitchen.  
San was playing on his phone, seated on the counter. You ignored his disappointed face when it was you that got out and not your friend.
You heard the loud laughter in the living room from Tae’s classmates. You only knew San and Lily because they were roommates with your boyfriend.
It was the beginning of the year when you and Tae started dating. You saw him at a frat party, and after a few drinks, you ended up in his bed. He told you it was fated that both of you met. For you, he was only one more nightstand, but then he made you breakfast and asked to go out with you.  Why not? you thought at that time.
You never experienced love. In high school, you used to fool around, but nothing serious, nothing that made your heart twist and your body tingle. Maybe it was out of curiosity that you said yes to Tae, to see if you could fall in love.
What a bad decision.
You sat next to San when he put his phone down.
"Wanna bet how much he'll get wasted?" He said, placing his arms around your shoulder.
"Thank you, but you've won the last three times."
From the open kitchen, you watched Tae tell a joke in the middle of his group of friends, getting his much-needed attention.
At first, it was all romance and sweetness between you two. You’d go on romantic dates like the ones in books. He would text you to say he was thinking of you in the morning. You used to cook dinner together. The weekends were spent in his dorm, in bed watching your favorite movies and whispering ‘I love you’ in the middle of the sex.
You loved the night walks the most. You would kiss him hard until both of you were breathless and Hyunjin appeared in the window, saying to you "Enter, or you’ll sleep outside''. Maybe this is why Tae disliked your roommate.
You have no idea when everything turned cold and boring.
The thrill ran away, and the butterflies were dead. You didn't feel anything. Not a pull, an attraction, or a connection. It felt like something you'd outgrown. What was the point of being with someone if it made you lonelier in their presence?
To be honest, you brought yourself into this situation. You should have dated him because you were interested in him, not because you wanted a romantic experience.
You know that the right thing to do is to break up with him, and you told yourself you'd do it soon. You made speeches in your head, imagined how he would react, and prepared yourself for the last goodbye, but every time you opened your mouth, the words caught in your throat. He was a comfort zone that you weren't sure you were ready to leave.
"Come on, Y/n," Lily said as she got out of her room. She didn’t bat an eye at San and took your arms, guiding you to the door.
"Are you guys coming or not?" She said it as if she hadn’t taken the most time to get ready. You tried to hold back your laughter at the faces of the rest of the group.
As your eyes searched for Tae to see if he would come to you, a blonde girl, who, according to him, was a new classmate he met in his anatomy class, grabbed his shirt and said something in his ear that made him smile. At you, there was no compliment, not even a glance.
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The nightclub was big and packed. You were glad you chose to wear a dress, as it was probably a little hell inside. It was your first time here, but not Tae's, seeing as he already knew his way through the place, walking in front of the whole group.
A faint smile arises inside you when you glimpse the interior. You love parties. The loud music caused your heart to pound in time with the bass.
There were two floors and a rooftop bar, according to San. You saw the stage, which was already occupied by a DJ couple. 
You followed everyone to the second floor. Lily left her coat on a big circle sofa, and San went right to her. As the group ordered drinks, your eyes roamed around the place. 
The second floor gives you a great view. Each floor had a bar, neon lights, small round tables with stools. You saw the restrooms in the corners as well as two backdoors beside them.
A big circular entrance revealed an open area entirely crowded with people, which was most likely the path to the rooftop. Beautiful dancers made the crowd cheer, then a new performer went to the stage. You were about to lean in to see who it was when your gaze was drawn to the other side of the VIP section. Right into Chris.
Your heart skipped a beat. You felt the thrilling sensation all over again, contouring and filling your body. You tried not to beam, but happiness is hard to contain when you see your friend on the other side of the room. 
He was resting on the guardrail in a secluded area. He was talking with another guy at his side. You were used to seeing him in sweaters and beanies, but tonight he was in a tight black shirt that leaves nothing much to your imagination, with black pants. You could see the black ink of the new tattoo on his forearm.  
You turn back to see Tae. He was taking shots with Lily and San. Good. 
You walked to him and got the bottle of vodka, serving a shot for you and another for him. You could see the surprise in his eyes when you made a silent toast and emptied your cup. As you heard Lily cheer, both San and the rest joined, and Tae’s eyes shined in delight as he drank with you. He loved attention. 
He poured more for him and you hid your grin. 
Let him be so wasted that he will completely forget you. 
If he saw Chis, his mood would sour, and he would complain to you about your poor taste in friends and ruin the whole night.
When you came to college, one of your parent's friends had a son who started college the same year called Hyunjin, and he lived in an apartment right up to a coffee shop where he worked. 
You killed two birds with one stone: a job and a roommate.
Once you started dating Tae, it was needless to say that he didn’t like your roommate being a guy. And a very attractive one. He wasn't possessive when you were around his friends, so you often crashed into his house and stayed in San or Lily’s room, but around your friends, the story was different. He didn't like Hyunjin or Seungmin, your classmate, and he despised Chris. Although he may have a reason for it.
You met Chris during a motorcycle street race since your friends and boyfriend were interested in watching one.
You remember being in awe of his motorcycle, even if you didn’t understand shit about it. And you remember his sweet smile when he asked you if you had ever ridden one before. You shook your head. And the way he leaned close to your ears, hands on your waist, and asked if you wanted to ride with him later was impossible to forget.
You went to heaven with a simple question.
Maybe this was when everything between you and Tae fell apart.
After the match, you walked straight to Chris; he won second place then. Tae saw both of you talking that day and tried to stop you, but you couldn't stop yourself. You wanted to get a taste of the rush of adrenaline, just like you felt when Chris touched you before the race. You have never felt anything similar with Tae. So you basically ditched your boyfriend to ride around town.
You didn’t regret it; you have never been more alive than that night. Butterfly on the stomach when your eyes met Chris' dark ones; shivers when he gave a slight and small touch on your ankle every time he would speed up; heart twisting at every word you heard from him later, when he left you home.
It was a nice surprise when you found out Chris was a childhood friend of Hyunjin.
Tae walked to you and put his hands on your back, taking you off your thoughts. Did he see Chris here? You try to turn and block his view of your friend smiling innocently at your boyfriend when you focus on the scene behind Tae.
"You're going to stay here?" he asked. But his tone was more like an instruction than a question. He does it a lot these days.
There are a lot of things he doesn't do nowadays, too.
Every time you two went out, he barely talked to you, and when he did, it was the same dialogue, and you'd zone out more than listen to him.
Then you tried to invite some friends of his, even if you barely knew them, and go out together but it was even worse since he straight up ignored you.
The sex was the same routine. You already knew exactly what he would do, and you knew what he liked too. And even if you did feel good, you didn’t feel anything more. It didn't feel any different than self-satisfaction.
The weekends were game nights with his friends only. And you didn’t mind because you’d just spent the day with your friends too. And the worst is that you don’t even think of him. No texts of goodnight, good morning, or “I miss you’s” throughout the day.
You watched his friends, already on the stairs, dance their way to the front of the stage. You nod at him, telling you were fine and to have fun. 
He had drunk a lot at this point; you could smell the alcohol on his breath. And when he's gone, you could go have fun with Chris.
You watched all of them jumping to the song as they got close to the stage. Tae would have a headache tomorrow from being so near the soundbox, and he knew that, but now he was occupied glancing at the blonde girl. You didn't care; you had someone else on your mind as well.
You smile as you feel a warm touch on your waist less than a second later.
You recognize every single part of Chris. Especially now that both of you spend almost all your weekends in your and Hyunjin's apartment. Especially when you would almost kiss him after he spent the whole day riling you up or when he would study while you worked at the coffee shop with Hyunjin and say, "I wanted to spend time with you." And later, you'd go to the second floor to read, study, listen to some new music Chris produced, or do nothing together.
Chris doesn't do relationships, Hyunjin once told you. And if you fell in love, your heart would end up broken. He said it as if you didn’t have a boyfriend you were supposed to be in love with. 
You don’t know how you feel about Chris exactly; it isn't love. Just something else. And for you to find out, you know what you have to do. Break up with Tae. And Chris made it so easy. Like it was merely a choice in a board game both of you were playing. And deep down, you hoped he’d win.
You turn to see him with a smirk on his lips.
"What are you doing here?" You said, making him laugh, and you wanted to kiss him right there.
"A friend of mine performed tonight." He said, tilting his head. Eyes playfully on yours.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming? You knew I’d be here."
"Wanted to surprise you."
"With my boyfriend around?" You roll your eyes.
He winked, and you shook your head, ignoring the mess your heart was in. You put some distance in, getting close to the guardrail again. The party was at its climax. Chris slides beside you.
"You look amazing in this dress," he said.
You wanted to compliment him and say he looked like a god, but the words got lost when he shifted his body toward you. He gently touched your hands, and the sensation of his skin on yours made you salivate. Then he grins at you before getting closer to your side. So close, you felt his breathing on your neck.
"You look good too," you managed. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard him giggle close to your ear.
"What are you doing later?" He asked. He was probably meeting important people from the music industry here.
"Probably sleep in Tae's. Lily wants to shop tomorrow anyway."
He nodded. Humming in understanding as he places his hands on your waist, drawing small circles
It was like this with him. Words and touches, where you might get misled by the meaning behind them. Never really showing his cards. You didn't want to show yours either. At least, not now.
"What if I have a better offer?" He said, and then his hands went on your hips, holding it tightly.
"I came with your best friend tonight. We could ride around."
You smirk. He was talking about his motorcycle. Chris does a good job of being persuasive.
"Grab some pizza and convince Hyunjin to make us those nice coffees." His warm hands slipped lower, too close to your ass.
"I can’t ditch them again," you said as your breath hitched with the contact of his body.
He was behind you now, putting his face between your shoulders. You felt his hard chest on your back. And his dick on your ass. You let out a deep sigh.
"Tell me, how can I convince you." He bit your earlobe before sliding the tip of his nose on your neck, making you shiver. "To make you come with me."
"You know I can’t," you said, holding a sigh. Tae will notice and get mad, and the last thing you need is a drunk Tae annoying you.
"We both know that's a lie."
You turned to look at him; his eyes were hypnotizing, intense, and you felt too self-conscious about how you were so close to him. When your gaze traveled down, it stopped on his lips—the ones you wanted on yours.
"You can do whatever you want, Y/N."
You bite your lips. His words made your heart race and your toes coil.
Imagining all the things you wanted to do with him.
You liked these little games with Chris. But it has been going on for so long that you yearn for more.
"If it were up to me," he said, eyes locked on yours, "I'd get you out of here. Ditch your friends and your shitty boyfriend and go to my apartment. We would make out really good, and I'd eat you out 'cause I'm dying to have a taste of you. Then, I’ll take you from behind on your hands and knees and make you forget you ever had a boyfriend."
"And then?" 
"I’ll pull you on top, and you'll ride me until I make you mine."
"Fuck Crhis." You were wet only by his words, and it was so wrong but so good.
Your eyes searched for Tae. He had an arm on a girl's shoulder and danced in front of San. He wasn't looking. You could escape, but it would be wrong; a part of you didn’t want to be a cheater, and yet you find it hard to refuse Chris.
The best part of the show just started, and Tae or any one of his friends wouldn’t get to the second floor so soon. You could invent some excuses later.
"Come with me, Y/n." His hands pulled you closer, making your ass rub his hard cock. Fuck it. 
"There's a backdoor; let’s take some air," you said, taking his hand. He smirked at you, following right behind.
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The door opened to a staircase, and you felt the cold breeze of spring around you. Downstairs was an empty alley illuminated with a few neon lights on another door, probably the one from the first floor. From up there, you could see the park, the building where you live, and, not so far away, your university.
You didn't realize how hot it was inside the club. You went downstairs and leaned against the wall, letting your weight fall.
Loud conversation could be heard from the rooftops, mixed with music inside, as well as street sounds, dog barks, cars, and laughter. And there was a faint smell of cigarettes.
You took a deep breath, allowing your body to relax and feel the coolness of the wall. You open your eyes to see Chris eyeing you up and down a few feet away. He leaned his shoulder against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He has the type of stare you know very well. The type he did when he wanted all of you, and you love it.
You couldn’t help but remember the time Chris touched your hand behind the covers in your living room, making you breathe harder with a simple touch, with his eyes locked on yours as a movie filled the room; the times he would stay until the coffee shop closed talking about his time in the countryside with Hyunjin, telling stories of his childhood, and making you laugh the whole time. Or the time when you two first met, your pounding heart taking away the memory of Tae left behind and exchanging your loyal heart for freedom.
Now, feeling the intensity of his stare, you have never felt so much like yourself. Was that so wrong?
"You’re going to the next race?"
"Do you want me to?"
"You’re my lucky charm. Why wouldn’t I?"
Your heart skipped a beat. You realized you liked being his. You liked it very much.
Chris walked to you, and now that it was only you two, you could appreciate his outfit, marking all the right places. You wanted to kiss every part of him.
"What are you doing?" You said. You should consider playing dumb a hobby now. 
When it was only you two, with no eyes to judge, it was way harder to keep your hands to yourself. Sometimes you have the terrible thought of getting lost in Chris and never finding your way out of him again.
He smiled, knowing exactly what you were doing.
"Thinking about all the things I can do to you."
You feel your breath hitch, and butterflies in your stomach finally revive again. Only with him.
"And you think you can do better than him?" you said. You saw the glint of annoyance in his eyes. He was hot like that, even hotter when he was mad. You tried to keep the dirty thoughts that roamed in your head to yourself.
He got closer and closer. Your body was in need of his touch. Almost eager. You shouldn’t want him.
"I already figured you out, Y/n," he said, stopping right in front of you, his fingertips tracing your arm. His chest was almost touching yours. "I know you shiver every time I touch you. I know how you look at my body when you think I'm distracted. I know you keep my hoodies because you like how I smell, and fuck, I love how you smell of cinnamon. I know you touch yourself thinking of me. And I know," he said, his lips a breath away from yours, "that you want to kiss me right now."
Your heart twisted as you met his eyes. You wanted him so bad, but doubt lurked inside you. Would it make you such a bad person to cheat on your boyfriend? Yes. Was it worth it? You didn’t know. But you loved the feeling of Chris' hands on your body and loved, even more, the way he looked at you.
Chris' hands moved to your wrist and drew you to him. His eyes were hungry, and his lips begged to be kissed.
If you were good, you wouldn’t be here; you wouldn’t drown yourself in someone else's warm hands; you wouldn’t crave the heat of Chris’ mouth on yours. But perhaps you weren’t such a good person. Perhaps love wouldn’t blossom for you, and instead, you would need to carve it out. 
"I need to feel your lips in mine," he said, his head going to your neck. His grip was firm, but you could still distance yourself if you wanted to. You didn't. It was ridiculous that you couldn’t deny him.
"We can't. You know that," you said, but your body betrayed your words. Chris' hands went to your lower back, and he gave a deep breath, making you shiver.
Then his hands moved to your neck. He looked at you, his eyes shining in the night. Chris' tattoo was a vine of thorns; there were no flowers. And for some reason, you felt like this connected both of you in some way.
"Just for tonight, please." He knew he'd already won. "Let it be our secret, pretty."
And you almost whimper at the nickname. God, how you love when he calls you that. 
"Y/n," he said, almost desperate, as the tip of his tongue grazed your lower lip. 
A lovely, almost agonizing desire tightened your stomach and spread heat over your cheeks.
You didn't register when the kiss happened. Your hands went over his jaw, around his neck, and then your lips touched his. It was gentle but hungry. Feeling safe in his arms. And a fire raged in your heart. You need him.
He kissed you gently, shyly savoring every part of your mouth. You cupped his face, fingertips caressing his neck, then ran down to his back..
Chris groaned at the first taste—and the sound made your knees weak.
He smiled in the kiss, aware of your reaction to him. Then he leaned in and kissed the lower part of your jaw.
You let out a breathy moan, losing your mind as he found a spot at the base of your throat and ran his teeth across it. He said against your skin, "You taste divine." He kissed it again, sucking on your neck. "Better than I could ever imagine, pretty."
Chris grabbed your leg beneath the knee and held it at his waist. And when he kissed underneath your ear, making your back arch slightly and grip his arms, you said, "I need you." 
You took him in for a moment. His angular face, dark hair, piercing eyes, and lovely flushed lips. Your hands were on his chest, feeling his quick heartbeat, just like yours.
Then you were kissing again, with earnestness. 
At the first touch, your mouth opened, and his tongue rushed in, tasting you in a terrible, cruel stroke. 
You were drowning in your sins and shame. Chris’ mouth was your heaven and hell. The world stopped for both of you, and everything made sense, and all the answers of the universe were in this kiss. You leaned towards him, trying to feel his chest against yours, only to hear his breath catch once his crotch touched yours.
So you roll your hips.
You noticed his quickened breath, his chest rising and falling, and you loved how you made him feel this way.
He leaned forward and kissed you harder, finding your ass, squeezing, and making your breath hitch.
Slowly, he moved his hands up, taking your breasts and squeezing. His fingers roamed around your body as the kiss deepened, and you felt his fingertips playing with the hem of your dress. You clench your pussy in anticipation.
Your mind drifted to the heat of his lips and breath, the shifting muscles of his back as you ran your hands across his shoulders, fascinated at how strong he felt, the way your bodies molded as if meant to belong together.
He shuddered as his fingertips brushed across the dampness of your covered folds, and a spark caught hold of you. His response was enough to ignite you. So you distance yourself enough to take your underwear off, and then place it inside his pocket. You were delighted by his widened eyes. 
Your heartbeat quickened as his lips glided softly over yours.
"Please, Y/n," he begged, kissing your lips and biting them as he pulled back. "Let me taste you."
You gave up fighting against your desire. You needed him. So fucking bad.
"Yes," you said, almost whimpering as arousal grows inside you at the thought of having his mouth in your core. 
He knelt, raised your leg over his shoulder, and took your bare pussy in his mouth.
At the first slide of his tongue, you threw your head back. He caresses the length of your slit until he stops at your clit, teasing you more than anything and making your hips buck.
Then he dived in between your legs, swallowing you quickly and violently with his tongue.
He sucked your clit into his mouth and released it, repeatedly stroking his tongue over the delicate skin. You gripped his hair, arching your back as he nibbled, sucked, and licked in circles, claiming you in every single motion.
You closed your eyes and covered your mouth with your hand, attempting not to scream any further. Yet moans still escaped.
"Fuck, pretty," he said against your skin as he flicked your clit with his tongue. "You're just right for me." You moaned, breathless and aroused by the view of him. On his knees for you, begging, wanting, needing you. And you wanted him in the same way.
He pressed his mouth harder against your pussy, and stared into your eyes, hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. He really had all of you figured out, licking softly and flicking harder at the right pace, causing tears to well up in your eyes.
Soon, your hips rolled against his tongue, and the groan he let out trembled your entire body, shaking your core and leaving you breathless. The pleasure was so overwhelming that his name fell from your mouth.
"I'm the one you think about when he fucks you, hm?" he said, slipping a finger inside you as he circled your clit faster and harder with his mouth.
"Yes," you moaned, an ache rising deep in your center.
"You want me?" he asked, and nibbled your clit through his teeth as his fingers drove in and out.
"So fucking much!"
You opened your eyes, staring at the night sky as he ate you out. Mind spinning as your orgasm rose.
"Come pretty." He slid faster, now with two fingers inside of you, making out with your pussy deep and hard, circling his tongue in your clit. "Only for me."
You brushed your hands through Chris' hair, grazing his scalp as you gripped his strands tightly in your hands.
It was too much. You can’t hold it anymore.
"Fuck. Fuck, just like that—" You gasped, clenching every muscle in your body as the pleasure flourished deep in you.
And you moaned his name over and over.
You tried to catch your breath; the aftershocks rattled your chest, your clit throbbed, and the flames of euphoria spread and slowly dissipated as Chris’ mouth slowed, still taking every drop of your cum.
He kissed your clit softly and looked up at you with a mischievous curve on his lips.
Then he stood and kissed you deep and slow, sliding his tongue lazily on yours as if he had all the time in the world, and you felt tears prick your eyes. You were so fucked.
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After three lost messages and one missed call, you stopped kissing Chris.
He stared at you so intensely that you thought you saw hurt in his eyes.
"What is it?" You said. Your voice so gentle that it surprised you.
"Just wondering when you’ll learn you should leave him," he said. The tip of his nose brushing yours.
"For who? You?" You said, trying to see a hint of where this was going.
"Yourself," he said in an almost painful way, with his brows frowning. The weight of a single word took hold of you. Chris knew you too well from the little time you spent together. You wonder, why? Why did you meet someone like him? His eyes were searching for something in yours. And you didn’t know if you could give him. You were too comfortable being a coward to change. Even if you crave it. What a mess.
You put your hands between you two, and you let out a quiet, "I need to go." His hand held you firmly in place. His lips linger in yours, brushing in a way that makes you want to start the night all over again. Have him all over again. 
"Don’t go back to him. He is not worth it."
Your heart tightens. You were well aware of it. But was what you and Chris had going on worth it? What if the same thing happens to Chris as it did to you and Tae?
"Please, Y/n."
Your thoughts were racing faster than your heart, making it difficult to concentrate. You must make a decision. A quick one. One that you wouldn’t regret. So you kiss him before saying goodbye and head to the backdoor on the first floor. 
The restroom was full, but you could make it to the sink and put some water on your neck to cool down. You looked at yourself in the mirror and could see your eyes shining, and every time you closed them, Chris would come to you. You could still feel his hands on your body and his tongue in your clit. You couldn't believe what you just did.
You tried to smooth your hair the best way possible, but it made little difference.
You replied to Lily's messages. explaining that you went to take some air, drink, and pass through the restroom. These excuses could cover you up. 
The second floor was way more packed than when you left, and you had to squeeze your way through it. You walked past the bar and the opening area. The whisper of a gentle breeze came from there, prickling your neck in a way that made you want more. It gave you the faintest relief in the midst of the heat around you.
You meet Tae seated on the couch, sweaty, with his friends, another drink in his hand. You could feel the boredom and the cages from the days to come closing around you as you rested by his side.
He didn't even notice your messy hair or your faded lipstick. 
There was water and an ice bucket on the table, so you poured it into a cup and sighed when it chilled your body.
Your gaze wandered across the room looking for your purse, but when you located it, another image in the corner of the couch made you stop. You had no idea why the scene caught your attention. San sat alone, crunching up ice cubes, staring at Lily flirting with some girl. The blonde girl that Tae was flirting with before.
San didn't even try to hide the jealousy and sadness on his face as if he were trapped in his feelings for her and couldn't find a way out. Was this how you looked outside? Sad and trapped in a failed relationship?
You found your purse behind Tae, and when you went to get it, he extended his arms behind you. He was totally captured by the talk with the guys, so your hand sneaked in his back and pulled from behind him. He jerked a little, and looked back at you with a slight frown and a twist in the corner of his mouth before going back to his conversation. 
What face would he make if he found out what you did with Chris?
You wanted to be regretful, but only dizziness came to you. A smile formed in your mouth, still tingling from Chris's kiss.
Flowers blossom in the spring. Could they bloom in the winter as well? Could you start something new when you weren't beginning in the right place? Could love grow after chaos and betrayal? You don't have the answer, and you knew what you’d have to do if you wanted to find out.
Shivers ran down your spine, and the adrenaline still running in your system kicked even higher.
You were doing this. You close your hand in your purse and bring Tae’s face to look at yours.
"I’m breaking up with you," you said. And as you said those words, you felt like you had taken your first deep breath in months. You saw the confusion in Tae's face in slow motion—his frown and the rage in his eyes, then his mouth open.
It was satisfying, in a twisted way.
You stood up from your seat without giving him a chance to speak. You would be pretty mad if someone broke up with you in front of all your friends too, but right now you couldn’t care less. Enough is enough.
A weight had been lifted from your body, and each stride you took seemed lighter like you could almost fly.
You quickly texted Chris on your way to the backdoor. Done. Let’s get out of here. And hurried to the backdoor again. Is this how you were supposed to feel after ending a relationship? In the movies, you watched the characters cry, but all you wanted to do was laugh.
You were ready for a new beginning, even if you didn’t know what it would bring.
Outside, the fresh wind roamed around your body and cooled you down. From the stairs, you saw him at the end of the alley. A mischievous and playful smile.
How could you feel anything other than euphoria when Chris was there, with his dimple smile, waiting for you. 
As if out of a romance novel scene, flowers dropped from a nearby tree in the background, and time had stopped for both of you. You run to Chris, wrapping your arms around him and kissing him hard. He draws you to him, sliding his tongue on yours, and you still linger in his taste.
"Does this lady need a ride?" he said, brushing his lips against yours. You smirk at him.
You got on the back of his motorcycle; your heart was already pounding. You pulled your arms around him. It felt right.
"Where to go?" You asked, not being able to hide your smile.
"Do you like flowers? The park is pretty this time of the year."
I like everything, everywhere with you, is what you thought.
A dangerous thought. For now. 
"Actually, I prefer ice cream."
He laughed as he started the engine. "I know a cool place."
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Author's note: Hi! Okay, so, this was quite challenging to write, (the dialogue was the hardest part jdlsjsksksj) but anyway…
I hope you liked this story. English is my second language, so please excuse my errors. Constructive feedback is always appreciated! I do not permit any form of copying, translation, or reposting of my work.
Did you enjoy this? If so, please reblog it. Thank you for reading! Sending love 🖤
Copyright © 2023 by Writerastray
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