#K-labels

[sarcasticsweetlara]

This is so cute 🥰 I just reread it

Let Me Try Again || K.SY

♗ pairing: kwon soonyoung x f!reader

♗ genre: angst, fluff

♗ word count: 30k

♗ warnings: heavy plot + elements (depression, anxiety, abandonment), pregnancy, foul language

♗ synopsis: Soonyoung had never wanted to live a restrained capitalistic life, forced to work a tiresome 9 to 5, paying taxes until the day he dies. Though in exchange to pursue the other option, that being devotion to a career, he had to pay an unfathomably large price—he had to abandon everything and everyone he's ever loved. can he fit himself back into his former life? one that's changed more than he can possibly imagine? could the ones he loved forgive him for his wrongdoings? could he get the second chance he wants so desperately?

♗ (a/n): im back w my bs uwu. one of my biggest fics, named after Frank Sinatra's "Let Me Try Again". pls give it a read and enjoy! 😭🙏❤️

main masterlist

Soonyoung breathed a sigh of relief upon stepping off the plane. Though he was still trapped in the crowd of other passengers, scrambling to meet with their respective families and collect their baggage, he had never felt so free.

College was an experience, to say the least. He had his fair share of fun, partying and meeting new friends. Sometimes those parties went awry, with either cops showing up to dismantle the chaotic atmosphere or Soonyoung drinking more than he could handle. He also experienced those painful nights of cramming, staying up until the crack of dawn, eyes near bloodshot, faint lines of text imprinted in his vision for the next few minutes as he turned away from his textbooks.

Many times, he was sure he'd fail, ruin his life forever. The life he had worked tirelessly to prepare for. The life he traded everything for, leaving behind his family, his friends. The girl he had sworn he'd marry one day.

Yet here he was, Master's degree now printed on his resume in a single additional line. A new and accomplished man, ready to take on the world.

And it seemed his efforts were already coming to use as he left his university. He had already gotten a fairly reasonable job offer; a software engineer in the tech department of SVT Corporations. It was a major industry, a rare job offer he'll probably never see again in his lifetime. It had to be pure luck. That he was in the right place at the right time. A surreal experience, that he was able to land such a fantastic start to his career.

Though before accepting, he decided to return to his roots one last time. A final goodbye to his past. The foundation which supported him up to this point. His childhood home. 

Being away for so long was quite the challenge for Soonyoung. He had always been a family man, someone who always put his loved ones before himself. Though as he grew older, his priorities admittedly shifted. Yet there still remained that tug in his heart, swaying him back to his loved ones, reminding him that though he wished to give himself the stable life he had always craved, he could never truly sacrifice everything for himself.

So to have to pack up and move across the country for years was truly a harrowing feat, though one he nevertheless conquered.

It was difficult, a trial he never really prepared himself for because he never believed he'd have to endure it. That dull ache in his heart that first time he video called his mother. Watching her face appear on his screen, grainy from the lousy connection, though still there. Still his loving mother. She cried for him, proud he was doing this for himself. Happy that her son was going to have a future as an engineer. What more could a mother want but the joy of her children?

He remained where he was for all those years. Never once flying back home. Because he feared that the moment he stepped foot in his town, he'd stay. The memories of his past calling out to him. The treehouse his friends and him always frequented. The bowling alley Seokmin and him would spend hours in avoiding schoolwork. The park he confessed his love to his crush. 

Yet as he stepped off the terminal, breathing in the air of his hometown for the first time in six years, he felt his worries were for naught.

He had heard his family before he had seen them, sister all but colliding into him the moment she spotted him. Tears brimmed his eyes as he held her for the first time in years, surprised at how grown she had become. Afterwards came his mother who had already been crying long before she had seen him, and then his father who also looked equally misty eyed.

For the first time in a long while, Soonyoung felt somewhat complete. 

His first day back had been spent with his family. Catching up with them, sharing his stories from college, hearing some of the family drama he missed out on.

At the dinner table, as they continued to converse with one another, his father had asked what his plans were.

He told him that he had been given a job offer that he was supposed to answer by the end of the month.

The news definitely dampened the mood, as he basically admitted right then and there that they would only have Soonyoung for four weeks before he was to leave them once more. Nevertheless, they chose to cherish the little time they had with Soonyoung, refusing to dwell upon the inevitable and instead thrive in the happiness he granted them with his presence.

The next day, he was already calling his friends again, digging through his old contacts and hoping none of them had changed their numbers. Though more specifically, he hoped Seokmin hadn't changed his number. 

He pressed the contact, smiling fondly at the silly display before him. An old picture of the boy from when they went to the pool, the dual ensemble of a swimming cap paired with a tiny set of black goggles. It was dumb, yet ever nostalgic, and still brought joy to Soonyoung as he finally dialed the number, pressing his phone to his ear. 

Upon the first ring, Soonyoung felt himself gulp, nearly choking on the descent down his throat. His thoughts began hitting him all at once. 

What if Seokmin didn't want Soonyoung anymore? He did just leave with no other words after getting on that plane. What if Seokmin hated him?

Second ring.

Why didn't Soonyoung just talk to his friends? He knew he was busy, but he shouldn't have been too busy for his childhood friends? Why couldn't he just keep in contact at the least? A simple greeting every so often wouldn't have hurt him. 

Third ring. 

Soonyoung felt his face redden with anxiety, his heart rate picking up. Worries of whether he truly did lose his lifelong friend riddled his mind. His fingers clutched at his jeans, gulping again as his nerves burned within him. 

"Hello?" A voice chimed through his phone, the familiar voice of his best friend wading into his ear, easing Soonyoung's frantic worries as a grin stretched on his face.

"Hello," Soonyoung responded, biting his lip as silence filled the other line. Just from assumptions alone, Seokmin must've pulled his phone away, getting a gander at the contact that called him, because a distant gasp sounded out before the voice was once more right at the mic. 

"Soonyoung!" He hollered, nearly bursting his eardrum as he laughed at his friend's reaction. "Holy shit, dude, what's up! It's been literal ages! How've you been?" 

"I'm good, I'm good," Soonyoung answered, looking down at his lap. "I just graduated."

"Oh, I'm talking to an educated man, I see," Seokmin noted, bringing a chuckle to Soonyoung. "Well, Sir Academia, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?" 

"Well, I'm home." It was quiet for a moment, so quiet that Soonyoung believed his friend may have hung up, but then he chimed in moments later. 

"Wait, home home? Like, here home?" 

"I'm at my parents house right now–"

"Oh my God! Stay there! I'll be there in ten minutes, okay!" The man suddenly hung up, causing Soonyoung to break out into more laughs at his friend's manic behavior.

At least he hadn't lost him. It felt like a light weight was lifted from his shoulders. That his bond with Seokmin was strong enough to persevere through these years. He still regretted cutting off everyone, though was still incredibly relieved at such a development.

The moment Seokmin pulled up, he was practically dragging Soonyoung away, shoving him into his car after a dramatic hug, and driving off. 

"I'm taking you to everyone," Seokmin explained as they made their way through the town.

Soonyoung smiled at the sights they passed. Nothing had changed. As if he hadn't ever left. As if the town was frozen in time, waiting for his return to thaw back to the present. It was comforting, a constant in his life he could rely on. 

The first person they went to was Seungcheol, working at his mother's real estate agency. They had waited for him to look up from his desk, and when he met their eyes, his facade of professionalism evaporated, the suited man leaping to his feet and practically hopping over his desk to embrace Soonyoung. The others in the office looked to them with terror at the display, but that didn't stop Seungcheol from lifting his long lost friend in the air, hugging him nearly to death with a bright smile on his face. 

Their next stop was Jeonghan and Joshua's apartment, the two of them having off from their jobs for the day. Seokmin had knocked on their door, to which neither of them answered. Insisting that he knew they were in there, Seokmin continued to knock until a disgruntled Jeonghan finally whipped open the door, about to tell off the supposed loiterers at his door until he saw Soonyoung. The fanfare continued as Joshua came out, coming to investigate what all the ruckus was about, though inevitably joining alongside his roommate with welcoming Soonyoung back. 

This continued for the rest of the day practically, Seokmin dragging Soonyoung to every corner of the city, reuniting with his old friend group. Mingyu had regrettably grown even taller since they last spoke, Vernon's fashion sense had mellowed over the years, and Chan looked so grown, the sight of the young man almost bringing tears to Soonyoung's eyes.

"You really didn't have to do this for me, Seokmin. I was planning on just calling everyone eventually and planning meetups," Soonyoung explained as Seokmin drove them back from Chan's place. The sun was setting, the sky an orange pink hue as the day was nearing its end; a day well spent in Soonyoung's book. 

"No worries at all!" Seokmin assured, waving his hand in the air before returning it to the steering wheel. "It gives me time to hang out with my best friend who abandoned me all these years." Soonyoung rolled his eyes and sighed as Seokmin laughed. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I knew you were busy. You got your Master's pretty early, too."

"I did, I did." Soonyoung sighed. Rather than it being necessarily early, it was mainly right on time. Though it cost him so much to stay on this schedule. "It was difficult, especially being away from everyone." He paused, smiling as he thought back on the day. At the faces of his friends he hasn't seen in so long. He hadn't realized how much he missed them until he was there in front of them. Hearing them speak for the first time in years, seeing how they changed while he was away, seeing them become settled in their lives, finding that happiness everyone sought for. "I should've at least texted you."

"What'd I say?" Seokmin parked his car, turning his head to face Soonyoung. "No. Worries." He poked his finger into Soonyoung's side with each word. "We all understood, you were chasing your dreams. We wouldn't want anything different. And knowing you, you were bound to come back." Seokmin patted his friend on the shoulder.

"Thanks." Soonyoung smiled softly at the comforting words directed to him.

He had been so worried everyone would have been upset he just left them and never spoke again, but after today, he knew everyone missed him just as much as he missed them. 

Though through all the joy in him, past the relief he felt upon meeting his friends once more, one thought plagued his mind. 

"Hey," he began warily, attracting Seokmin's attention, "How's (y/n)?"

Seokmin grinned at the name, though not as ecstatic as his usual wide smile. More so one of familiarity, comfort, fondness.

"She's great, we just hung out last week. Her, Seungkwan, and I.'' Seokmin said, bringing a smile to Soonyoung's face. He was glad to hear that. That they all remained friends after he left. After he broke her heart, and left her behind. Before he could speak though, Seokmin continued, his words all but halting Soonyoung's every thought. "It's really hard to plan things with her since she has to adjust her schedule to fit both us and her kid, but she still makes the effort."

"Her... kid?" Soonyoung's voice was weak, barely even louder than the air conditioning hitting his face, but Seokmin heard nevertheless. He glanced at him in confusion before realization hit him, eyes widening and jaw dropping. 

"Oh, nobody told you!" He shouted in shock, glancing around the street they were on before swiftly recalculating his destination, making a U-turn all of a sudden. "Yeah, she has a daughter! Little Chaerim."

Soonyoung's face blanked, his chest tightening at the information relayed to him. 

She had a kid. So many things had changed during his time away, like Minghao taking up meditation, Jihoon becoming a famous producer, even Jeonghan adding more furniture to his pet rock's house. But (y/n) having a kid? 

For as long as he could remember, Soonyoung had the biggest crush on (y/n). Starting from their first meeting at the age of 11, his feelings only seemed to spiral deeper and deeper with every year until he had finally asked her out in the middle of highschool.

They were highschool sweethearts. The epitome of a perfect relationship. They never got into fights, unlike the other relationships around them which seemed to fizzle with the angst of teenage development. They were never jealous, having this undeniable trust in one another, enough to grant them comfort with one another from just the mere thought of the other, and no random addition of a person could tarnish that mentality. They were mature, treating their relationship as something which should be cherished and nurtured, never once treating the other disrespectfully or tarnishing the perfect bond they had. 

That is until after highschool, when Soonyoung was accepted into his college across the country. 

It all began crumbling after that. Doubt riddled his mind soon after.

Whether he could truly keep (y/n) happy from such a great distance. Could he manage a long distance relationship and his studies? Would he have to put one over the other? If he did, then his grades would tank, because he wouldn't have the heart to put his school before her in any scenario. Should he just abandon everything, throw away this idea of self fulfillment for love? Find a regular 9 to 5 to support him and (y/n)?  He'd stay with her, but at what cost? Soonyoung never wanted to work a job like that. To live a life where everyday, waking up felt like a task, and his only reprieve was the peace of sleep. It's why he was struggling with this debacle in the first place. 

Whether to put his happiness or her happiness first? 

Yet at the end of the day, he chose the former. He couldn't possibly give her the happy life she deserved if he himself was miserable. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he brought her any form of misery, like the lack of a devout husband. Someone she was forced to watch crumble with every passing day, nothing more than a shell of what he once was. His vibrancy extracted through the shackles of capitalism until he could no longer handle it. Until not only his will to be happy dissipated, but also his will to make her happy, gone like everything else. He couldn't condemn her to such a cruel inevitability. 

As much as it pained him to admit it, it would be much better for him to let her go, give her the chance to find the happiness she deserves, which clearly didn't belong to a monster like him.

And so he let her go.

He had been so distracted he hadn't even acknowledged Seokmin parking again in yet another unfamiliar apartment building. 

"We're here!" He announced, stepping out of the car excitedly. Soonyoung on the other hand stepped out warily, glancing around as if he'd see her waiting for him, glaring in disdain at the man who shattered her heart and left. 

All the while, Seokmin raved about Chaerim as they made their way to her apartment. He talked about how cute she is, how she's the sweetest thing he's ever seen, how Soonyoung would just love her. 

Yet her mere existence seemed to haunt Soonyoung, torment him the longer he knew of her existence. Because she stands as a testament of (y/n) moving on from him. 

Before he knew it, they stopped before a door.

It was just like any other along the narrow corridor, though it felt much more daunting to him, knowing who was behind it. 

"Watch this," Seokmin whispered excitedly, cracking his knuckles before placing both on the door. He began rapping a beat on the wood which went on for longer than any knock should . He then stepped back proudly, a smile on his face as he looked back at Soonyoung, patiently waiting for something to happen. They could hear muffled shouting through the door, growing louder and louder to the point that Soonyoung could now very clearly make out the voice to be saying "Uncle Seokmin!" on repeat.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Time seemed to stop as a tiny face peeked out, smiling brightly up at his friend who then crouched with outstretched arms. The girl had leapt into his arms, giggling as he lifted her up and hugged her. 

Soonyoung felt his breathing pick up, seeing the little girl buried in Seokmin's shirt. That little girl was the daughter of his true love. The one girl he had always adored. The girl he all but abandoned.

But she wasn't his daughter. 

And though that fact lingered over him  treacherously, reminding him of his past faults, reminding him that he could've had that had he chosen (y/n) at the end, he still attempted to push away his negative thoughts, offering the girl a smile as he waited for Seokmin to acknowledge him.

Once the enthusiasm subsided, Seokmin finally did turn to him again. 

"Chaerim, I'd like you to meet my friend, Soonyoung."

The girl looked up at him, peeking over from beneath Seokmin's chin at the strange man a few feet away from her. And as their eyes met, Soonyoung felt his heart all but collapse, watching two sharp, angular eyes peering at him curiously. Eyes which quirked upwards at their ends… Just like his. 

His expression dropped, the color of his skin draining as she revealed all of her face to him, and it felt as if Soonyoung were looking directly into a mirror. She stared at him so resolutely, his own panic seeming nonsensical from how calm she remained, merely resting against Seokmin as she continued to look at Soonyoung, observing as you would an animal exhibit. 

"Chaerim!" A voice hollered from inside the opened apartment. A person emerged from the hall within, making her way swiftly to the entry, exasperated as if this were a daily occurrence in her life. As the woman appeared at the door, Soonyoung realized who it was. 

Jihyo, (y/n)'s best friend. 

She looked to Seokmin and Chaerim for a moment, silently acknowledging that the situation is handled, before looking to Soonyoung, standing there starstruck with his mouth agape, glancing between Jihyo and Chaerim. 

Jihyo's face shifted from indifference at everything, to shock upon seeing Soonyoung, to then near terror, brows arched in surprise as she froze in place, much like Soonyoung at the moment. 

"Was it Seokmin?" Another voice resounded from the apartment. A soft, lull like voice which carried in the air, light and delicate with its tone as it hit Soonyoung, a familiarity which lit his nerves though also seemed to melt him into butter.

And then she appeared, rounding the same corner as Jihyo. Soonyoung felt his knees buckle, weak against her mere presence which seemed to dominate the entire room. She looked up, stopping mid step as she met Soonyoung's eyes, and regrettably to his disappointment, instant fear washed across her expression, a fact which seemed to stab at Soonyoung's heart. That he was no longer the one who brought her peace or comfort like he once did so long ago. That she looked to him as you would any unwelcomed stranger. 

"Is everyone okay?" Seokmin asked, the only person who wasn't in some stare down with another.

Yet before he could question it any further, Chaerim began squirming in his arms, crawling out of his embrace before bounding towards her mom. (y/n) hesitantly crouched, scooping the young girl up and into her arms, who then began whispering into her ear, legs kicking excitedly. With a shaky breath, (y/n) smiled to her guests.

"Seokmin!" She greeted first, voice wavering as she approached the door. "And Soonyoung! Please, why don't you all come in." Her hand landed on Jihyo's shoulder, snapping her out of her stupor before she backed away, allowing the boys to enter the home. 

Jihyo muttered a brief, "excuse us," before she was dragging the two girls down the hall. Soonyoung looked worriedly to their retreating forms.

The way (y/n) said his name.

She once said it with such adoration. Calling out to him from across the courtyard at school, referring to him in the middle of a conversation, whispering to him late in the night when they embraced one another. His name alone once felt so loved because she said it. Because she spoke love into it. With every syllable, with every roll of her tongue, as if speaking an entire ballad of her affections, though it was merely his name.

Now she spoke his name tentatively. As if it were poison on the tip of her tongue. As if she were stepping through a field of landmines. As if it was taboo to be spoken. 

He felt tears brimming at his eyes. Selfish tears, ones which shouldn't be shed because he condemned himself to this reality. He was the one who pushed her away. He was the one who left her home, ignoring the silent cries she left behind, ignoring the way his heart fought tooth and nail to turn back and return to her. He was the one who got onto that plane, drowning in his own sorrows as he flew further and further away from her. Away from his other half.

He once believed everyone was a whole, and that some people just made one larger whole once together, and would stay as their original wholes once separated. Yet here he was, a broken half of a man, whose other piece was left shattered and abandoned by him. 

And he still felt like that. He could feel his dormant heart stirring alive with pointless hope, beating against his rib cage as if wanting to break free and reunite with her. Yet like he always did, he ran away, walking over to her living room and sitting beside Seokmin.

"Cute, isn't she?" Seokmin nudged Soonyoung, a warm smile on his face as he referred to the young girl. "God, I just want to squish her cheeks all day. So round. Doesn't she remind you of a hamster?"

"No," Soonyoung answered faster than he had intended, shocking even himself with his thoughts. That he wasn't a hamster, so she couldn't possibly be a hamster either. He shook his head, attempting to clear away his assumptions as Seokmin chuckled. 

"You're probably right. That won't stop me from calling her my hamster though," Seokmin continued. Soonyoung leant forward onto his knees, steadying his breathing before the girls would eventually return. "You know, I'm her Godfather." 

Soonyoung looked over to him, brows furrowed in intrigue. 

"Yeah, (y/n) insisted," He continued. "I was one of the only people who knew about her pregnancy, so I was taking care of her with Jihyo for those few months." Soonyoung felt his eyes water. The thought that she was struggling so much while he was away at college. And he knew absolutely nothing. "I was even the one who drove her to the hospital when she went into labor, cause Jihyo was working at the time."

There was some relief in him at this. That she wasn't entirely alone. That though he left her behind, she still had others to care for her. He felt obligated to thank Seokmin for his efforts. For being there for her when he wasn't. For taking care of this child like she was his own. 

Chaerim.

Soonyoung was about to question him further, about to ask him more of his dear god daughter, until Jihyo appeared from the halls, hands clasped together with a nervous laugh resounding from her. 

"Okay, hello everybody, how are we feeling?" She asked, sitting on the loveseat beside them. "Sorry, we're all understandably shocked to see Soonyoung, you know?"

"No, we completely understand," Seokmin waved her off. "We should've told you guys on our way here, I just got excited." He nodded towards Soonyoung beside him. "He didn't know about Chaerim! Can you believe that?" 

"Insane," Jihyo responded, her voice monotonous as she stared blankly back at the two. 

Soon after, the final members of the party came out once more, Chaerim immediately making her way over to Seokmin again. He brought the girl to his lap, brushing back her black hair as (y/n) took a seat in front of them on her coffee table. 

"Hi," She greeted them all, though her eyes landed on none other than Soonyoung. 

"Hi," He responded, voice soft, afraid he would startle her and she'd run off. He wouldn't blame her though. He did the exact same thing. 

"Seokmin, let's go to the kitchen." Jihyo began walking off, Seokmin following after. Chaerim was peeking over his shoulder, still staring right at Soonyoung up until she disappeared into the kitchen. 

"How have you been?" (y/n) continued. He stared momentarily at the kitchen before turning back to her with a wry smile. 

"I'm okay," He answered. "I just graduated. Master's in software engineering." 

"That's amazing, congratulations!" She noted, a smile spreading on her face, though not reaching her eyes. "I'm happy to hear that. You must be so proud." 

Soonyoung winced at her words, because she seemed to unknowingly see right through him. She may not be fully aware, but he was filled with doubt. Yes, he achieved what he set out for. He got his Master's, he's got the job offer, he's got his life laid out before him, and all he had to do was live it out accordingly. Yet he was full of doubt. Doubt because he was still riddled with sorrow, wondering if things would've been better had he given up on this plan. If he could've accommodated, still involved (y/n) in his life, and just worked a little harder to keep her beside him through the long distance relationship. 

At the end of it all, that unhappiness he believed he'd have working a basic 9 to 5 equated to the unhappiness he felt living a life without (y/n). 

"Soonyoung?" She asked, startling him back to reality. 

"I'm sorry. I zoned out." She softly chuckled, nodding at his words with a soft affirmation. She looked down to her lap, fiddling with her fingers as silence encompassed the two. And as much as he didn't want to ask, as much as he knew it was inappropriate for the time being, he couldn't help it. He couldn't fight back the curiosity flooding his brain. "You have a daughter…"

She froze for a moment, hands wringing together before she looked up at him with a smile. 

"I do, yes." (y/n) pulled out her phone before handing it to him, showing her wallpaper which was Chaerim, beaming up at the camera, her eyes narrowed into slits. "Her name is Chaerim, as you may already know." His heart softened, seeing the bright little girl practically radiating like the sun. He understood why Seokmin seemed to love her so much. Because he was gradually already falling for her and he hasn't had one conversation with the girl. 

"She's beautiful," Soonyoung commented, handing the phone back to (y/n), smiling widely at his words. "What's she like?"

"Well…" (y/n) started, breaking off into a brief chuckle as she thought of the girl in question. "She's… something. Very hyperactive." (y/n) looked down at her phone, fondly gazing at the picture once more. "She's silly. There's never a dull day with her." She paused, looking for a second more before putting her phone away and sighing. "So mature. It feels like I'm talking to a little adult at times." Soonyoung smiled, seeing how much (y/n) loved her. 

"Can I meet her?" He asked softly, voice barely above a whisper. He was afraid, scared to meet this little girl. He didn't know what exactly he feared, but his thoughts were incessant.

It was either he was meeting the child of (y/n) and some guy who came and replaced him, or he was meeting the child of him and (y/n). 

And as (y/n) called out for the girl and she emerged from the kitchen with those familiar sharp eyes of hers, Soonyoung had an inkling he knew it was the latter scenario. 

"Chaerim, I'd like you to meet Soonyoung," (y/n) spoke, gesturing to the person as she said their name. "Soonyoung, this is Chaerim." 

He slid off the couch, crouching onto his knees before her with a smile on his face. 

"Hi Chaerim. It's nice to meet you." 

The little girl stood there, staring right at him, expression blank and unreadable. It almost intimidated him, the way she seemed to stare right into his soul as if it was child's play. She stepped closer to him, face to face, her gaze unwavering, as if she hadn't an ounce of fear for him. (y/n) and Soonyoung watched her with confusion, though allowed her to continue to inch closer and closer to Soonyoung until she pressed her tiny lips against his nose, pulling away after planting a soft kiss to him. 

"Chaerim, what are you doing?" (y/n) spoke in a panic, pulling her daughter against her. "You just met Soonyoung, we don't kiss strangers."

"We don't?" She asked. The first words she has spoken in his presence.

"No, we don't– How many strangers have you kissed?" (y/n) asked incredulously, eyes wide at the girl's question. Without answering, Chaerim approached Soonyoung again, his face reddened at her kiss. 

"Hello, my name is Chaerim," she greeted, voice louder than necessary, though still getting her point across. She held out her hand to him, and he hesitantly took it in his own. His lips twitched into a smile, thumb brushing over her smooth skin as he reciprocated her greeting. In some way, he knew. The moment he touched her, he knew she was his. 

Though before he could say anything else, Jihyo appeared. 

"(y/n), it's 8," she stated. Like that, (y/n)'s fond smile at the exchange dissipated, and she snapped out of her daydream at the time. 

"Chaerim, we need to give you a bath," she stated, about to stand up before Jihyo stepped in. 

"It's okay, Seokmin and I can prepare her for bed," she insisted, lifting the girl into her arms with a small huff. "You guys can keep talking." Jihyo briefly looked to Soonyoung, nodding at him in acknowledgement before turning around and disappearing down the hall, Seokmin trailing behind after waving to Soonyoung. 

Once they were alone, Soonyoung climbed back onto the couch, staring at (y/n) whose eyes darted everywhere but to him. She was nervous, which saddened Soonyoung. He remembered how she once relied on him for comfort during times like this, yet now he was the source of those worries. He just wanted to bring her to him, remind her of his undying love for her, the same love which hasn't waned since the moment he left her. Yet he understood. He understood she needed time. She needed space from him. She needed time to think after he just suddenly came back into her life. 

Though yet again, his impulsivity came through, far too curious to merely ignore the elephant in the room.

"(y/n)..." He started, tilting his head down to meet her gaze now staring at the floor between them. She continued to avoid him, eyes shifting away once he entered her peripheral vision. "(y/n), please." 

There was a desperation in his voice, this weakness in his tone that startled (y/n), loosened her resolve some as she finally peeked up at him. Her eyes were glassy, her lip quivering as she met his gaze, this pleading stare greeting her as they finally looked at one another. Truly looked at one another.

The sun was setting, casting this deep orange glow into the apartment. A myriad of colors danced across her face, the warmth of the sunset seeping into her skin. Ethereal, Soonyoung thought to himself. How beautiful his beloved (y/n) was. Perhaps it was the time spent apart, but Soonyoung swore she seemed to radiate even more now than she ever had before. As if with every passing of the sun, she seemed to blossom more and more, this breathtaking flower before him that he had left behind. 

"Talk to me. Please."

She blinked at his words, tears beginning to well up along her waterline. Though he could very clearly see that anguish in her eyes, she still attempted to play it off, breathing out a chuckle as she shrugged nonchalantly at his request. 

"What's there to say?" 

Dismissive. She looked away the moment she finished her sentence, eyes once more skirting around him, avoiding him. He winced, this surprisingly sharp pain stabbing at his heart. And yet it only encouraged him to pursue her more. 

"So much. (y/n), it's been years. Please, tell me anything. Tell me about your parents, your job, Jihyo." At this point, he had leant so close to her that their breaths were intermingling, warmth brushing against their faces from the proximity, yet to them, two long lost lovers who hadn't spoken in what felt like a lifetime, the space was anything but discomforting. A welcoming sensation that had the tips of his fingers itching to touch her, any part of her, anywhere she was willing to offer him. His eyes opened, glassy gaze once more seeking out her own as she took in a shaky breath, overwrought with the surge of emotions that came with Soonyoung's presence.

Tell me about Chaerim.

He wanted to ask so badly. The question was at the tip of his tongue, begging to be spoken. Yet upon the first break of tears cascading down her face, he knew he had already pushed her too far for now. 

Once her tears spilled, so did his, a never ending stream of moisture seeping out of his eyes, his sobs choked back upon hearing her muted sniffles. And to make matters worse, he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't gather her defeated body into his arms. He couldn't wipe her tears away or kiss at the trail they'd leave behind. He couldn't hum her favorite songs to banish her sadness away. Because unlike the other times, he wasn't hers and she wasn't his. At this point, they were no more estranged than two strangers.

His hands shook by his side, forcing himself back from holding her to him. He had no place to do so. He was nothing to her anymore. It took every fiber of his being to separate him from where he was, leaning back onto the couch with a rough sigh, jaw clenched as he attempted to will away his tears. (y/n) similarly followed suit, her hand pressed against her mouth as if to quell the cries that wanted to break free. And they remained that way for what felt like an eternity, silencing their anguish on their own. The solitude felt like a stone pressing down on him, an aching reminder of what their relationship had eventually boiled down to. 

They were childhood sweethearts. Ever since he could remember, he'd held a sweet spot for the girl next door. His friends had teased him relentlessly, the adults in his life equally tormenting him with the premise of one day marrying (y/n). So it was no shocker when he had confessed to her one fateful evening in the park by their neighborhood. What did come as a shock was when she had almost immediately reciprocated his feelings, dragging him into a bone crushing hug as she giggled away into his chest.

Seungkwan hadn't believed him the next day, giving him a once over with a raised eyebrow. His hair was frizzy with damage from repetitive bleaching, his clothes hung loosely on his lanky body, and his smile was obscured by an array of multicolored bands on his braces. Yet it only further proved her genuine affections for the boy.

They say love is blind, but it seemed like she had revealed to him a whole new plethora of shades never before seen by the human eye. The sky was bluer when he was with her, grass greener as they laid together in the field, the orange of his tiger plushies felt more vibrant whenever she cuddled one of them. 

And even now, it still held true, his atmosphere intensifying in her presence just from her sitting there in front of him. She brought him such anguish, unearthing memories he had once tried so adamantly to bury away, yet she also brought this unfathomable peace in his heart, soothing the storm that had plagued his soul for the past six years in college. The thought was what finally calmed his tears, leaving dried streaks across his face. She had yet to stop her own. 

"(y/n)." She finally spared him a wary glance, that same storm which racked his being now whirling in her irises.

In a much softer tone, he called out her name again, desperation laced in his voice, and perhaps even in his gaze, because just from looking at him, (y/n)'s resolve seemed to dissipate into thin air. With a quivering lip and another bout of tears welling up in her eyes, she found herself shifting over to the couch, collapsing into Soonyoung's arms with a loud, agonizing sob.

Her body quaked in his arms as he finally held her again, his face burying into her hair and breathing in her scent. Her arms had wrapped around his torso, fingers clenched desperately into his shirt, tugging him impossibly closer to her. He could feel the warmth of her tears seeping into the material of his top, attempting to coax more tears out of him, yet he remained as is, striving to keep his strength for the both of them in this moment. 

"You left me," she cried into his shoulder, voice wrought with unwavering sorrow. "You broke my heart." That familiar lump began forming at the base of Soonyoung's throat, yet he swallowed away the threat of tears once more, simply opting to drag her closer into his frame.

He shut his eyes, his breaths heavy and ragged as he took in her despondency, feeling firsthand how his capricious actions had not only destroyed himself, but also the love of his life. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, voice broken as he spoke through his own misery. "I'm so sorry, (y/n). I could apologize for an eternity and then some, and it would never amount to the regret I feel." His hand rubbed up and down her back, attempting to repress at least some of her sadness at the moment. "I thought… I thought this would be better for you. You didn't deserve to suffer in a long distance relationship. I thought it would be better to let you go so you can actually experience the fulfilling relationship you deserve."

"That's so fucking stupid," she sobbed out, each syllable sounding forced out through the exhaustion already setting in from her crying session. 

"I know."

"You broke my heart, you asshole."

"I know." She had mumbled out a few more indiscernible words that had intertwined with her next bout of cries, until eventually it had dissolved into nothing. The tight grip she had on Soonyoung had loosened, her face once buried in his chest now lolled loosely against his shoulder, and the quivering of her body now replaced by the gentle rise and fall of her steady breathing. And with her now silently sleeping away, he took the opportunity by himself to let out his own tears once more, littering the top of her head with soft kisses as he wallowed in his own pitiful state. Embracing the girl he had abandoned and broken, begging for forgiveness as if he deserved anything from her. His apologies fell upon deaf ears as she slept, yet it hadn't deterred him from continuously whispering his pleas to her. 

The only thing that seemed to stop his mantra was Seokmin squeezing his shoulder. 

"Hey Soon," he called out quietly, snapping him out of his daze as he looked up at his friend. "Let's head home. You guys had enough for the day. There's always tomorrow."

Soonyoung nodded, rising to his feet with (y/n) in his arms as Seokmin guided him to her bedroom. Soonyoung spared her one last glance as he laid her there, brushing back her hair and stroking her cheek, taking in her peaceful expression once more before departing. Seokmin was at the entrance with Jihyo already, the two talking to one another in a low voice, as if the tension of before still resided even with (y/n) fast asleep. 

Upon Soonyoung's arrival, their conversation faded into nothing, Seokmin offering the man a gentle smile upon taking in his beaten form. 

"Hey buddy, how are we feeling?" Soonyoung's silence was answer enough, staring at his friend blankly with red eyes and a puffy face. "Ah, that's good, that's good. Like I said, there's always tomorrow. Let's get you home now, yeah?" Seokmin bid Jihyo goodbye with one last nod before heading out the door.

Before Soonyoung could fully walk out the door, his body halted in its spot, standing at the threshold of the apartment with Jihyo staring up at him confusedly. 

"Chaerim," he spoke, voice gravelly from his earlier happenings. "Is she mine?" 

He didn't know what brought this upon him. In any other instance, he'd be horrified at the sudden audacity he obtained to have asked such an illicit question. Yet right now, he was numb. His body ached. His heart felt drained beyond reparation. He felt like nothing. So what was there to lose with such a risky move?

Jihyo was silent for another moment, until she shook her head out of the corner of his eye. 

"No," she stated, voice weak as she looked at the defeated man before her. "No, she's not. I'm sorry."

Soonyoung shut his eyes, nodding at her words before fully walking out, meeting up with Seokmin at the elevator. 

It was an answer he had anticipated, one that was honestly expected, yet somewhere deep in his heart, he had truly thought she was his daughter. That she was the product of his and (y/n)'s love. That he possibly still had a chance with (y/n), as long as that fragment of their relationship still existed in this world. Yet it was all hopeful wishing. 

Even long after Seokmin dropped Soonyoung off at his parent's house, bidding the man goodbye and promising to return tomorrow, the events of the day still weighed heavily upon him. And even after shutting his eyes and going to sleep, the memories of (y/n) tormented him throughout the night. Illusions of what could have been had he chosen her at the end. The happy life he could have had with (y/n) in his arms. Chaerim could have been his. He could have had a daughter as beautiful as her. Yet he had given it all up for a piece of paper.

The last person he had seen that night was Seokmin, and he had also wound up being the first person he saw when he woke up the next morning.

"Soonyoung," he called out, shaking the man's shoulders until he stirred from his slumber. "Time to wake up." 

The aforementioned man did not look his best, to say the least. Eyes completely bloodshot, face puffy beyond recognition, and his usual sanguine demeanor was depleted until he sat there as nothing more than a breathing human. The living embodiment of the contrast between living and surviving. 

Though Seokmin didn't seem too perturbed by his friend's ragged appearance, merely cooing as he patted down the disheveled mane on Soonyoung's head. 

"You ready to get back into the ring today?" His voice was chipper, comparable to that of a kindergarten teacher to their students, yet it had little to no effect on Soonyoung who grumbled in response to his patronizingly toned question. 

Seokmin stood there as Soonyoung dragged his feet about the room, tugging on whatever clothes he could find, brushing his teeth as he combed his hair, attempting to stay awake through Seokmin's droning dialogue in the background. 

"I got everyone's schedule for today. Mingyu and Vernon have the day off. Chan gets off later on today, so he could join us whenever. Seungkwan and Junhui said they couldn't come today because they're working, but Joshua literally has the closing shift and said he'd come around at midnight, so I think they're just not committed enough, you know?

"Jeonghan and Minghao have not responded to me yet, but Jeonghan literally posted on Instagram yesterday, so I know he's ignoring me. Seungcheol and Wonwoo said no for today, but they are available later on this week. Did I forget anybody? I feel like I'm forgetting someone?" 

(y/n). 

He wanted to ask how she was. If she had fared well after last night. How she felt this morning, waking up after such an eventful night. How Chaerim was doing. What the girls were up to this morning. What they'd be doing later on. If (y/n) still wore blue every Wednesday and acted like it wasn't an actual routine of hers because she didn't think anyone would notice. If he could see her again today. 

"Jihoon!" Seokmin snapped his fingers upon realizing, laughing to himself soon after. "Jihoon is busy right now, but he'll join us later."

Their conversation continued once they were in Seokmin's car and driving off.

"So we're going to pick up Mingyu and Vernon and head out for breakfast. At around 12, Jihoon said he'd come join us, so maybe we can take a walk around downtown for old time's sake. At 2, I have to pick up Chaerim and drop her off at Jihyo's, but Chan should–"

"Chaerim?" Soonyoung's eyebrows had risen at the mention of the girl's name, turning to face Seokmin with sudden fascination at the schedule. "You pick up Chaerim from school?"

"Well, from daycare, yeah," Seokmin responded, eyes still trained on the street, but still with that soft grin plastered to his face, the casual air he has when talking about the girl stirring this envious feeling within Soonyoung. "Jihyo gets out of work at 2, but the daycare is pretty out of place on her route home, so I pick up Chaerim and hand her to Jihyo. And then at 5, (y/n) gets out of work and she retrieves the child from Jihyo and they head home." 

Soonyoung sat there enraptured at Seokmin's words, nodding and absorbing everything said as if he himself would need the knowledge in the coming future. Seokmin kept talking afterwards, continuing where he left off regarding Chan's and Josh's arrival before they had finally reached their destination. 

This 24/7 breakfast joint they'd frequent as they grew up, Attacca. They'd eat waffles there as a child with their families, eat waffles after school while procrastinating on doing their homework, eat waffles on snow days when they had nothing better to do, eat waffles at 2 am after late night parties at each other's houses. And even now as the four of them sat together to catch up, they ate those exact same waffles. 

"You still have the high score on Galaga?" Soonyoung gaped as Vernon nodded cockily, leaning back against the chipped leather of the booth they sat at, arms raised triumphantly while he basked in the glory of his achievements. 

"The undefeated champion still reigns to this day." Vernon began waving to his imaginary fans, blowing kisses and posing for photos as Mingyu grimaced at the overplayed fantasy happening before him. 

"He goes to that same rundown laundromat every month to make sure he hasn't been bested, as if kids are even still going there." Soonyoung chuckled at Mingyu's words, which had supposedly gone over Vernon's head as he continued to fantasize about the glories of victory, muttering to himself about how he would love to accept Oprah's invitation to her show. "Though on the less pathetic side of things, my restaurant is doing very well."

"I can't believe you actually own a restaurant." Soonyoung took a sip from his chocolate milk, humming in amusement at the thought of Chef Mingyu. "That's insane. Congrats, man." 

"Thank you very much."

"Yeah, Mingyu said he'd serve us for free next time we go," Seokmin quickly added, earning a kick under the table from Mingyu himself. 

"Wait, is Mingyu finally feeding us for free?" Vernon asked, mouth agape as he finally snapped out of whatever trance he had propelled himself into minutes earlier. 

"No, Mingyu is not feeding you freeloaders." Mingyu elbowed Vernon as he spoke, glaring at the group before him with disgust. "You get discounts at most, but I'd go bankrupt if you all came to my restaurant for free." 

"You hear that, boys, dinner at Mingyu's tonight." Seokmin tossed his hand forward, immediately receiving a high five from Vernon on command as the two continued to goad Mingyu. With a roll of his eyes, he redirected his attention to Soonyoung, offering the man an excited smile. 

"So, Soonyoung, what's up with you? Six years on your own, new degree, job offer. You've got so much going on for you!"

"Thanks." Soonyoung smiled, stirring his straw in his drink absentmindedly as his eyes lowered to the table's surface. "I'll be off again in a few weeks presumably. For that job offer."

"I don't know if this is dumb of me to ask, but what does an engineer do?" Vernon questioned, shoveling another load of waffle into his mouth.

Soonyoung pouted as he thought about the question, because to be fair, he doesn't even know what his job will entail. Six years in college. He's learned his way around a computer. He knows how to fix things now. That's pretty much all he can say, because to be honest, he doesn't know what awaits him in the future. He doesn't know what finally entering the field of his career entails for him. He doesn't know if it'll be what he had anticipated out of such an intensive career. If it'll prove the regrets that stir within him wrong, prove that it was worth leaving everything behind to pursue. 

Suddenly, Chaerim and (y/n) came to mind. A little glimpse of them together popped into his head, (y/n) chiding her daughter who had just planted a kiss onto his nose. With those two girls remaining in his mind, he was beginning to seriously doubt that last presumption of his.

Because no amount of money in the world could possibly top the exhilarating feeling that settled at the base of his heart when he was with them both yesterday. 

"I don't know," Soonyoung announced, rather proudly regarding the circumstances, causing the lot to burst into laughter at his own confusion. 

"Well, hopefully it comes easy to you," Mingyu spoke, bringing his coffee mug up to his lips for a sip. "Who would have thought the tech challenged Soonyoung would become a software engineer of all things."

"I wasn't that bad."

"You typed like a grandma after her fifth shot of tequila," Vernon interjected with a shake of his head. "We all know (y/n) was the one who had prepared all of your presentations for you." 

Soonyoung nervously chuckled at the mention of her name. His technical ex girlfriend, as painful as it sounded. And as true as that was, so was Vernon's statement. 

They'd be lying on his bed, her laptop in between them as she helped organize his notes and points on one PowerPoint. She'd type away, showing him different things the program offered, putting in her own input on designing, and he'd merely sit there and listen, head tucked away in the nook of her neck as he dozed off to her gentle voice. He'd fall asleep while she worked, and she'd wake him up by littering kisses all over his face. He'd rehearse his presentation for her alongside the PowerPoint, just to show how her work would not be going to waste. She'd applaud him, congratulating him even though he had done the bare minimum, but it felt good nevertheless. To be doted upon by the girl he loves the most, falling asleep in her arms the night before his project, that good luck kiss before he'd enter class that he swore was the key to his passing grades. 

Soonyoung would wait for (y/n) after class to tell her how it went, and the smile she'd bless him with was like the cherry on top of it all. This big, gorgeous smile that was so bright and happy for him and him alone. 

As if punishment upon him, for even daring to derive even a shred of happiness from a past memory, the blissful image of (y/n)'s smile had been torn away from him, instead replaced by one of their last moments together. 

It was in his room as he was packing away his clothes for college. (y/n) sat on his bed, folding whatever she could and neatly organizing it into his luggage whilst filling the quietude with her thoughts. 

Though Soonyoung couldn't really recall much of what she was saying that day. He was too into his own head. He was too distracted by his own thoughts plaguing his psyche. Thoughts that he had initially written off as intrusive ones that would soon fade away, though they remained recurrent, sprouting forth practically every moment he spent with (y/n) until every waking second of his life revolved around those thoughts and those thoughts alone. 

(y/n) managed to snap him back into reality as she began directing her voice towards him. 

"You'll have to text me when you get situated over there!" She gushed, far more excited for him than he was for himself. "I mean, you'll text me when you get there of course, but you have to text me when everything's settled and you have some spare time. I can fly over and meet you." She slipped off his bed, shuffling over to him and wrapping him in a hug. Soonyoung naturally reciprocated it, arms embracing her against him, relishing in the warmth and comfort that came with holding her. That keen familiarity that he'd never grow weary of no matter the distance or the time which passed. But even so, even with her presence serving as an anchor for him, his mind was elsewhere, drifting far from reason and compiling what he could only describe as utter nonsense now. 

"(y/n)," he muttered aloud, somehow hoping she wouldn't hear him even though he spoke right by her ear. She hummed, cursing him into finishing what he had started. "How do you feel about all of this?" 

"About what? College?" He hesitantly pulled away from her, arms loosely holding her as he took in her appearance once more, as if needing the momentary motivation to continue with whatever he was doing. 

"About me going to college. About me leaving everything behind." His eyes flickered about her face, tension settling in his eyebrows as his emotions were already beginning to seep through his facade. "About me leaving you behind."

"That's a weird way of putting it," she laughed dismissively at his words, though still hummed in thought. "I feel… conflicted." His arms strained for a second, briefly gripping onto (y/n) as she paused for consideration. "Of course I'd love to have you with me or me with you, but we can't. At least not right now." She tilted her head with a pout forming on her lips before she smiled resolutely. "Life has other things planned for us right now. You're off to do great things, to study and get a career like you always wanted, and I'll be here, finding some sort of stability like I've always wanted.

"But that's okay," she tugged him along with her to the bed, seating him on the edge and cozying herself against him, head resting on his shoulder with her arms draped over him. "Because we'll always be here supporting one another. I'll be right here when you're ready to come back." 

He hadn't even realized he was crying until he felt a tear brush past his lip, her words being the nail in the coffin for those incessant anxieties that had tormented him for weeks now. 

"(y/n), I think we should break up." 

The words felt like poison in his mouth, churning his stomach until it was wrought with absolute disgust. There was a conflict in his body, one that had him beating himself for having even uttered said cursed words, but it was too late. He had spoken his thoughts. 

(y/n) had stiffened in his arms, silent as Soonyoung battled with himself, but then she slowly pulled away from him. Her eyes were blank at first, face stoic whilst analyzing his expression for any sign of humor or any indication that what he said was merely a cruel joke. But it wasn't. 

"Soonyoung, what are you trying to do? Talk to me before making such a large decision like that on your own." Even at such a young age, she was so mature. It was something he had always admired about her. How level headed she was, how calm and patient she became whenever he was off his hinges. She continued to show that maturity of hers, concealing whatever emotions she may be feeling and instead waiting for Soonyoung to calm down enough to talk. 

"I…" He had begun, eyes straying to his lap when he felt his words get caught in his throat, his body quaking with an incoming sob, though quickly collecting himself, clearing his throat of any obstruction and continuing. "You have been the light of my life for as long as I can remember. I've loved you for longer than I could even talk. You are the love of my life, and that's very clear to see." He paused, gathering his thoughts once more. (y/n) remained where she sat, hands having slid down to his biceps where they tentatively rested. "And all I've ever wanted was your happiness… But I think I will become that obstacle for you. I will be the thing preventing you from being happy."

"Why would you ever say that about yourself, Soonyoung?" She cupped his face, bringing his gaze back to her intimidatingly serious one. "You can't be in the way of my happiness if you are my happiness."

"(y/n), we've never been away from each other for even a day." Soonyoung all but wept, eyes blurring with tears as he laughed incredulously at his own statement. School field trips, family road trips, even girl scout camping included them both, Soonyoung somehow getting away with disguising as his sister when they were all children. "I don't think we'll be able to make it long distance."

"Who says we can't?"

"I do." His voice was broken, as was the rest of him, barely able to hold himself where he sat. (y/n) was quiet for a moment, in complete shock of what was happening in front of her. 

"Why are you so confident we can't do long distance? Sure, we've never been apart, but who's to say we can't survive away from each other? Soonyoung…" Yet again, (y/n) found herself redirecting his attention back to her, making sure he could see the absolute resolve in her eyes. "I love you. And I know you love me just as much. Isn't that enough reassurance?" 

Soonyoung could see how serious she was. He could see how much she was holding back, wanting to also burst into tears alongside him at such a scary moment in their lives, but even so, he had his mind settled. 

"No, it's not." She flinched at his words, her hands suddenly pulled away from him as if his skin were fire. She was taken aback, eyes wavering as Soonyoung began rubbing away his tears. 

"Why are you acting this way? You're not even giving us a chance. You're acting as if everything we've built together was for nothing. As if all those years together were just child's play when you literally mean the world to me." 

"(y/n), I love you," he interjected, shutting his eyes and taking a deep, final breath. "I love so much. You are everything to me. And I know I can't live without you. But I can't bear to see you lose yourself to a long distance relationship like this."

"Soonyoung–"

"You deserve a fulfilling and present love. A love that you won't have to struggle with time differences just to video call, a love where you don't have to be decided over homework, a love that's just as invigorating and perfect as you, and I'm no longer a viable option." 

He didn't know what had done it—which of his words had finally broken her fortitude, but before he knew it, he heard sniffling beside him, and when he finally met her gaze again, there were tears running down her face, lips downturned whilst staring back at him in disappointment. 

"Who even are you anymore?" He stayed quiet at her question, not really knowing how to even answer this if he had wanted to. Physically, he was still Soonyoung, but so much had happened in such a short duration of time that he felt like his soul lay dormant deep within him. He didn't know what entity of sorts took over that compelled him to act in such a way and feel these doubts he's never felt before, but there was no changing him at this point. 

And within seconds, this strong, independent girl Soonyoung had grown to love with all of his heart had deteriorated with defeat. She pulled her hands away from his in lieu of shielding her face, leaving cold pockets on his body from where her touch had once resided. He felt a stab at his heart as she silently wept to herself, a sight he rarely if ever saw from her. And to know that he was the reason she was like this killed him inside.

Yet even so, he still didn't take back his words. He didn't apologize for destroying their relationship so heartlessly. He just sat there, watching her, knowing this would be the last image of her he'd see before flying the next morning.

And as greedy as it was—as absolutely cold and insensitive as it was for him to do—he slid closer to her, hands hovering over her wrists for a second more, as if giving himself one more chance to stop, but it seemed as if his body had now begun running on autopilot. Latching onto her hands, he gently tugged them away from her face, cupping her cheeks so as to have her looking at him. 

She was crushed, tears an endless stream of moisture seeping from her now reddened eyes, facial muscles contorted with sadness. It was a sight that absolutely destroyed Soonyoung, yet still it was undeniable in his mind: she was as beautiful as she had always been and always would be.

Perhaps it was with that thought, that subtle reminder that he truly did and always would love her for who she was, that compelled him to lean forward, pressing his lips onto hers one last time, as if one last proclamation of his eternal love for her. His eyes had shut, tears slipping away from him as he brought her closer to him, pouring out every ounce of affection he could, hoping that what his words failed to convey, his kiss would translate—show her that somewhere in him, Soonyoung still resided; that she hadn't lost him entirely yet. 

She had kissed him back, hands threading through his hair and pulling him closer, afraid that if she had let go, he'd disappear from her forever. 

And her fears had proven true. After that last night together, tangled in each other's limbs, their final moments expressing their love for one another, he had left, leaving behind a kiss on her forehead and his heart now in her hands as he flew across the country, an emotionless void as he pursued what he thought he'd always wanted. 

His demeanor had changed greatly during breakfast, something Seokmin had noticed almost immediately. The boys agreed to meet up later when the others were available, agreeing to hit up some places around the city together. Seokmin was driving Soonyoung home for the time being, refraining from mentioning his solemn expression as he sat in the passenger's seat quietly. The man had too many thoughts running through his mind at all times. It was something that Soonyoung had always dealt with. They'd be talking about one thing, and within a second, Soonyoung would have changed the route of their conversation because he suddenly remembered something. Though now rather than his silly little conversational segues growing up, his thoughts seemed a dark place that no one would want to venture into. Seokmin just hoped that their friends would be able to distract him some later tonight. 

Once they pulled into the driveway of Soonyoung's parent's house, they both stepped out of the vehicle, making their way to the entrance until Seokmin's phone began ringing. 

"Hello?" He swiftly answered as Soonyoung fished for his keys. "What? Wait– hold on– Grandma, I– Slow down for a second, slow down. Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?" Soonyoung turned around, eyes widening in shock as he looked at a very concerned and confused Seokmin. "Okay, I'll be right there. Just stay put." 

"What happened?" 

"She got into a car accident. She said it's a minor one, but still." 

"Of course, I understand, go over there," Soonyoung insisted, already ushering Seokmin over to his car. 

"Wait, Soonyoung, wait." They both stopped for a moment, facing each other with equally troubled expressions. "It's almost 2 o'clock." Soonyoung's mouth dropped immediately, hand resting on his forehead as he began to truly process Seokmin's plight. 

"Chaerim…" 

"I know it's a lot to ask of you, but could you pick her up for me?" Seokmin asked, already unlocking his car as he waited for Soonyoung's answer, which came seconds later in vigorous nods. It brought a small smile to his face, seeing some form of life once more in his friend's eyes. "Great, thank you so much, dude. I'll text you the address. I owe you big time."

Once Seokmin had left, Soonyoung immediately rushed into the house to grab his keys before driving off. He must've broken quite a few traffic laws considering he made it to the store, bought a car seat, and installed it, all with just minutes to spare before 2.

He double checked the booster seat once more, shaking it around to ensure it was latched on safely, before he backed away with a huff, turning his attention to her daycare he was parked in front of. 

A quaint little location with trees and flowers littered around the front, a sign of alternating primary colors reading 'Little Sun Daycare' under a rainbow arch with clouds on either side. From where he stood, he could see a large, open backyard with all the things to occupy a child's attention span. Though it was barren, so he knew they were all likely nestled away safely inside. 

He rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on the front of his jeans before pulling the door open, wincing at the loud chime over his head once he saw what he had walked into. About a dozen or so children, all scattered across the floor with blankets and pillows as a faint lullaby played on loop behind them. He stood there awkwardly, frozen in place with his eyes darting from each and every child, checking to see if any stirred, though luckily it seemed he'd gotten away with it. 

Another moment passed before a lady came around the corner, steps light and casual like the seasoned caregiver she most likely was. She was older with brown hair pulled into a bun, a few wiry gray strands sticking to and fro from what must've been an already strenuous day with the children. She offered Soonyoung a gentle smile, revealing wrinkles that curved with her face, as if showing how often they formed due to her frequent grins and happiness. 

"Hello," Soonyoung whispered, practically tiptoeing closer to her out of fear of making any more noise. "I'm sorry for… that." He gestured grandly to the bell behind him. She snickered, waving her hand dismissively to him. 

"It's alright, dear, these kids can usually sleep through a stampede." Her voice was low, though definitely not as quiet as Soonyoung had been, and he found himself quickly adapting to her volume levels as she went behind the front desk. "Pick-up?"

"Oh… Yes, I'm here for pick-up." He nodded at her words, somewhat surprised at how quickly she had deduced his reason for coming. She handed him a clipboard of names, presumably that of the kids, before she left to go into the room of napping children.

His eyes scanned the list before settling on Chaerim's. There were two boxes in her row, one for drop off and one for pick-up. (y/n)'s name was already signed in one, and Soonyoung needed a moment to collect himself, gaze now focused on her signature. It was silly of him to feel so affected by mere writing, especially when he had written his name next to hers on the pick-up column. It had the same satisfaction as when he'd write his name with her last name growing up, long before he had the bravery to ask her out and he was merely dealing with a crush that rotted his brain away.

Chaerim. (y/n). Soonyoung. 

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a little voice calling out to him.

"Soonie?" He turned around, heart swelling as he saw a tired Chaerim rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her face was puffy, hair in complete disarray, but she looked absolutely adorable to him. He crouched to his knees with a smile on his face, and that was supposedly enough of a boost for the girl to all but launch herself into his hold, tiny arms thrown around his neck as she buried her face into his shoulder. A warmth spread through his body as he cradled her against him, standing to his full height before facing the woman again. 

"She had almost an hour-long nap. Snack time was just before naptime, so she may be hungry. And she was praised today for sharing toys with the other kids." Soonyoung chuckled at this, patting her back approvingly as she refused to stray from where she nestled herself into him. 

"Thank you so much," he responded to her, backing away towards the door as he waved goodbye to her. 

"Of course. It's lovely to finally meet you!" The words hadn't really hit him until the door had closed behind them. Then he, had stood there frozen for another moment, eyes widened when he processed both her implication and how she had wordlessly gone to retrieve Chaerim. He bit back a smile, continuing his trek to his car as he greeted the little girl in his arms. 

"Are you surprised?" He felt her nod against him. 

"Yeah," she mumbled into his shirt. "Because usually it's Uncle Seokmin who picks me up. But today, it was Soonie." His cheeks were already hurting from smiling and he hadn't even gotten into the car yet.

"I like the name you've given me," he replied to her as he strapped the little girl into her seat, shaking her around a bit to check again for stability purposes, earning a few bubbly giggles from her before he slipped into the driver's seat. 

"Are we going to Aunt Jihyo's? Uncle Seokmin usually takes me to Aunt Jihyo's afterwards. And then Aunt Jihyo and I play games and watch movies until mommy comes." Soonyoung hummed happily at her babbling in the background, refreshing his chat with Seokmin where he had only sent him the address to the daycare. Soonyoung sent a second text out, even though his other one hadn't been read yet. He knew it'd be a stretch asking Chaerim for directions, so with a shake of his head, he began backing out of the parking lot. 

"I was actually thinking we could hang, you and me. How does that sound?"

"Yeah!" She hollered loudly, all that drowsiness she had before dissipating as she kicked her legs excitedly. 

To be fair, if he weren't driving, he'd also probably be kicking his legs around, the thought of spending time with Chaerim just as exciting of an idea to him as it was to her, and he hadn't even had a full conversation with the girl on his own. It just comes to show how invigorating of a person she was at such a young age already. Just as entrancing as her mother.

It was almost by nature that he had navigated them to the park. It was a quaint area filled with lush trees and winding cobbled paths. At the center of it all was a lake where many visitors would fish or feed the wildlife, and that main walkway encircled the body of water, a route many morning joggers would wind up taking.

Their town wasn't necessarily small, but it also wasn't a grand city with a variety of things to do and places to visit; as such, the park was a sight he and his friends had frequented often whilst growing up together. He remembers learning to skip stones with Minghao at the lake, climbing around the playground with Mingyu and Seokmin as if it were an obstacle course where they couldn't touch the floor, playing manhunt with everyone in the middle of the night. Asking out (y/n) as the sun was setting behind them. It was a place he held near and dear to his heart, and something in him wanted to create even more memories now with Chaerim by his side. 

The girl seemed perhaps even more excited than he was, if that were even possible, already preemptively pressing the red button of her car seat and freeing herself from her restraints. Though she sat there anyways, waiting for Soonyoung to turn off the car and take her out of her seat himself. 

With her little hand wrapped around two of his fingers, they strolled through the park together, Soonyoung letting her ramble away to her heart's content. 

"You should be happy I named you Soonie," she called out to him from where she walked below. He hummed in acknowledgement at this, a confused yet amused smile crossing his face as she continued speaking. "Uncle Seokmin keeps asking me to change his name, but I don't want to."

"Why not? A nickname would be much shorter than Uncle Seokmin."

"What's a nickname?"

"It's when you shorten the person's name. You call me Soonie instead of Soonyoung. Soonie is a nickname."

"Why can't it be your real name?"

"It could if I legally change it."

"Change it."

"Maybe some other day," Soonyoung laughed at her insistence, gazing down at her fondly. How lucky you would have had to been to be blessed with Chaerim's presence on a daily basis. It was a relieving thought to know that three of the most trustworthy people he could name were her guardians.

Jihyo, who had been with (y/n) for years to come. A friend that was one in a million. Someone who stood the test of time, never once straying from (y/n) throughout the duration of their friendship.

He remembers when he had gotten into a fight on (y/n)'s behalf, having heard a guy talking crassly about her. It was Jihyo who had yanked Soonyoung off the guy, urging him to rethink his decision. The last thing (y/n) would want out of this was her boyfriend to be suspended for fighting this jerk. But when the guy continued with his vulgar language regarding (y/n), Jihyo had performed quite possibly the most impressive elbow drop ever seen, landing them both into weeks of detention together. 

It was a silly thing to bond over, but nonetheless had sealed a sort of unspoken friendship that neither of them had expected. 

Then there was Seokmin, one of his best friends since elementary school—and still claiming that title today. 

He was inherently kindhearted, accepting of anyone no matter their circumstances. Soonyoung berated him at times for putting others before himself too often, though it seemed like it didn't affect Seokmin in the slightest. As if he derived all of his enjoyment from helping others, both a selfless but also selfish matter as he did think of others, but he mostly did it because it brought himself joy. Still a saint if there ever was one, and from what he's heard thus far regarding his participation in Chaerim and (y/n)'s life, this still proved true. 

Then there was (y/n). Were there even words to describe how perfect (y/n) was? How sweet and caring and loving she is. Warm and doting with kisses that can heal any ailment, physical or emotional. Thoughtful and patient and compassionate. Soonyoung had brought the passion in their relationship, the whimsy that made love so worthwhile and memorable. Yet she was the stability in their relationship, able to ground Soonyoung when he grew too rambunctious, quell any argument that would surface between them, balance the energy Soonyoung evoked with her own tranquility. 

There was no better person to mother such an adoring child as Chaerim. No better person to be raised by with such love and tenderness. There was no person like (y/n), nor would there ever be. 

"Why is it called nickname?" Chaerim suddenly chimed in, catching Soonyoung off guard who just spoke the first thing in his mind, in a feeble attempt to impress the young girl with his nonexistent knowledge. 

"Nick is the shortened version of Nicholas." His eyes had widened comically at his words, impressed by how the reasoning seemed to fit the context, yet also dumbfounded by how idiotic he was. Chaerim didn't seem to be affected by his nonsense. 

"So Soonyoung is your Nicholasname?" 

"Yes." He could already sense another question on the tip of the inquisitive girl's tongue, and Soonyoung couldn't find it in himself to lie to her again. "Oh, look at that!" He threw his hand up with a gasp leaving his mouth, pointing to the ice cream truck just off the edge of the path they walked on. While he seemed excited, Chaerim was otherwise unimpressed, drawing nearer to him as they stopped in their path. 

"I'm not allowed to have ice cream," she explained, to which Soonyoung gaped at her response, almost immediately crouching to her level in shock. 

"Why not? Is it something about spoiling your dinner?" She hummed at his question, needing a moment to herself to think of her words. 

"Mommy says I can't. She says I lack toes in taller ants." Soonyoung blinked in wonder at this, in complete and utter confusion at what she was getting at. Lack toes in taller ants. Lack toes. In taller ants. 

"Lack toes… Lactose intolerant." His voice was barely above a whisper, both hesitant of his conclusion, but also fearful for the answer—on whether she truly is lactose intolerant.

She nodded. 

His breathing was shaky, nerves alight as he nodded at her response. His heart felt like it had seized in his chest for a moment, yet even with the internal panic setting in, he still felt a smile twitching at his lips. 

"Well, lucky for you, this ice cream truck has ice cream you can eat." Her eyes widened, a wide toothy grin setting in. 

"Really?"

"Yeah. And you can trust me on this. I'm also lactose intolerant." She laughed in absolute wonderment, allowing him to scoop her up and take her to the ice cream truck he used to visit as a child himself.

Ordering the ice cream felt sort of like a fever dream as he was still processing the newfound information. The coincidences were becoming far too frequent for him to ignore. Chaerim's undeniable resemblance to him that has even stumped people outside their circumstances. Chaerim's genetic lactose intolerance that she had to have gotten from someone other than (y/n). Even now as they ate their sorbets, they had similar tastes. 

"I don't like this," Chaerim said, sticking out her tongue in disgust. 

"Then why'd you ask for it?"

"Mommy says I like peaches." Soonyoung chuckled at this, glancing down at his strawberry sorbet one last time before extending it to the girl seated beside him.

"Here, try mine." She leant forward, biting into the pink dome of sweetness before humming in delight and nodding. Gone was his strawberry, now eating her peach one—which he also didn't really like all that much. 

She was cozied up into his side, all but devouring her strawberry treat while Soonyoung soaked in the moment. He memorized the way the sun beat down upon them, how the cool breeze passed by and chilled the perspiration settling on their faces. The feeling of fulfillment gripping at his heart just from being with Chaerim, feeling her so close to his side, taking in the radiance she emitted, her happiness that he had managed to instill in her. It was an emotion he never thought existed, but now couldn't get enough. Something only she seemed to awaken in him, and something he'd quite possibly never grow weary of. 

"DK," She shouted enthusiastically all of the sudden, startling Soonyoung some out of his thoughts. 

"What's DK?"

"Uncle Seokmin." 

"How'd you come up with that?"

"It's the letters in his name. Seok and Min." 

"That's not… There's no… Okay." She giggled at him, causing him to laugh along with her. Her head pressed into the side of his chest, right along where his heart seemed to beat more obviously by the moment. It was such a perfect moment, and Soonyoung's delusions seemed to continuously feed into that delight, yet something in him nagged incessantly, a voice that seemed to call upon his downfall as his mouth opened. "Chaerim… How old are you?"

"I'm turning 4." She proudly raised up four fingers into Soonyoung's sight, and his heart all but shattered alongside the fantasy that had been concocted in his head at the moment.

She was 3. Far too young to have been his child. 

He didn't understand. There was so much that said otherwise. So many signs that supported his beliefs. So many reasons to prove that she was his daughter. It confused him. It left his heart in fractures. It had this numb feeling quickly settling in, reminding him that he was nothing. That he was delusional to have even thought for a moment Chaerim was his. That he had even the slightest chance of reconnecting with (y/n). That he could ever possibly get this dream life that he had abandoned on his own. 

"Soonie, I like ice cream. Can we get more later?" He bit his lip, blinking away the tears that threatened to surface and began nodding his head. A grin settled over his face at Chaerim's request, sighing in relief as he was forced back into reality. The reality that although he wasn't her father, he still very much so loved this little girl, and nothing could change that. 

"Of course, sunshine," he cooed, fingers combing through the thin strands of her jet black hair. "We'll have to get permission from your mommy first. I'm not even sure if I was allowed to do this much." 

"And when mommy says yes, we can all get ice cream together." Soonyoung's heart skipped a beat at the mere mention of (y/n), but his mind blanked upon the insinuation of her joining them. The three of them all together, spending a day in the park eating ice cream like a little family. 

His perfect little family. 

"Yeah. We'll do just that."

"Pinky promise?" She held out her hand to him, pinky jutted out expectantly as she looked up at him. 

"Pinky promise." He linked his pinky with hers, earning more of her pleased giggles that soothed away all of his anxieties. 

Time passed by quickly, and soon Soonyoung was waiting at (y/n)'s door, seated on the ground as Chaerim continued talking to him. The elevator they had used to arrive at the apartment chimed, and out rushed a panicked (y/n), eyes manic as she zeroed in on her daughter. 

"Mommy!" Chaerim called out, rushing over to the woman who dropped to her knees, a sigh of relief puffing out of her as she finally had her daughter back in her arms. 

"My baby, thank heavens you're alright." Soonyoung smiled fondly at the sight, taking another moment to watch the two before he rose to his feet, garnering (y/n)'s attention. 

"I'm sorry. I would've called you about the change in plans, but I basically only had Seokmin's number, and Seokmin was preoccupied." She nodded, also standing up with him, Chaerim wrapped in her arms. 

"I understand," she responded, heading over to her front door. "Could you get my keys out of my bag?" 

Soonyoung automatically obeyed, fishing out her keys in mere seconds as he unlocked the door for the two. He followed close behind, slipping her bag off her shoulder and allowing her to peacefully reconvene with her daughter in the living room, cradling the young girl for a few more minutes to herself. 

"Mommy, Soonie picked me up today!"

"I know, that's so fun, isn't it?"

"Yeah! DK was busy, so Soonie came."

"DK?"

"And then we went to the park!" Soonyoung snorted as Chaerim completely ignored (y/n)'s confusion, leaning against the wall and watching (y/n) struggle to keep up with her daughter. "We went to the park and we had ice cream!"

"Ice cream?" She turned to look at Soonyoung, a hint of confusion, but upon seeing him mouth 'sorbet', she nodded in understanding, smiling as she returned to her daughter. "That's exciting! Was it yummy?"

"No!" Chaerim proclaimed proudly, (y/n)'s jaw dropping at the rollercoaster of a conversation happening. "I had peach ice cream first."

"You don't like peaches." Soonyoung had to hold back his laugh, chest quaking with contained cackles, remembering how confidently Chaerim had explained her mom telling her she liked peaches. Though that laughter dissipated, quickly replaced with betrayal as Chaerim continued. 

"Soonie said I liked peaches." While Soonyoung was about to defend his position, (y/n) merely nodded, already accustomed to Chaerim's inconsistencies as a toddler. "But he gave me his strawberry, and it was really yummy!" 

"You swapped ice creams?" (y/n) asked, gaze returning to Soonyoung, a ghost of a smile on her lips with that familiar glint of fondness returning to her eyes, a sight that Soonyoung couldn't recall the last time seeing, and it had him shaken to his core right at that moment, stomach twisting in knots and heart pounding against his chest as the emotions swirling in him seemed to awaken from their hibernation. 

"Yeah we did! We can swap again next time with you!" (y/n) drifted her attention back to Chaerim, that fleeting tender gaze dissipating, soon replaced by confusion once more. 

"What?" 

"Soonie and I want you to eat ice cream with us!"

She didn't look back at Soonyoung, merely nodding in agreement and faintly smiling. 

"Of course, sweetheart. I'll join you guys next time." Before Chaerim could offer her pinky as she did him, (y/n) stood from the couch. "Soonie has to go now though! Go ahead and say goodbye!" 

(y/n) was already walking away as her daughter whined in protest, darting over to where Soonyoung resided and clinging to his legs. 

"Soonie, don't go!"

God, he didn't want to. It was the last thing on his mind, especially when he met her glassy eyed stare, a pleading gaze begging him not to leave her. His heart was too weak for this, but he knew he couldn't disobey (y/n)'s decree, and he begrudgingly lowered to his knees, gathering Chaerim in his arms for one last hug. 

"It's alright, sunshine. There's always another day. I made a promise, didn't I?" With one last squeeze, he pulled away, making sure he looked at her with the most unwaveringly resolute expression he could muster. "And I never break my promises." 

She giggled and nodded, hugging him again before running off to her room, leaving (y/n) and him alone at the foyer. 

"I'm really sorry about today," Soonyoung began, quick to break the silence before it grew to be too tense. "Seokmin had that issue with his grandmother, and he forgot to text me Jihyo's address–"

"It's okay, Soonyoung. Really." Her voice was soft as she cut him off, hand raised to silence him. "I should be thanking you, to be honest. This is probably the most fun she's had in a long time." 

"No need to thank me at all." Soonyoung gave a subtle laugh, looking down at his feet bashfully. "Chaerim is the sweetest little girl out there. I had a very good day with her." 

(y/n) smiled at this, nodding at his words before turning to begin making dinner. 

"I'm glad. She seems to really like you." She hesitated for a moment, causing mid sentence. "Thank you… for giving her your time of day. It really means a lot to us."

"(y/n)..." He knew where her words came from. He could hear it in her tone. The pain. The betrayal. The wounds still fresh from when he had left her that morning. Left her to wake up on her own to an empty bed and no other word from him. Completely and utterly alone. He knew what he had done, and while he regretted it with every fiber of his being, he still stood there, contemplating what he could possibly say to someone he had left behind years and years ago. Because no matter how much he regrets his actions, he can never take it back. "I'm sorry… I know it doesn't make up for anything, but truly, I'm genuinely, desperately sorry."

Her eyes were focused on the granite of her countertop, hands shaking while clenched together on the surface. She was holding so much in, and it killed Soonyoung. Knowing he had left her this way. That he reduced her to this state.

"It's fine. It's in the past." Her voice was steady and calm, a contrast to her physical appearance where she seemed to be barely holding herself up. But in typical (y/n) fashion, she looked up at him, all emotion stowed away as she greeted him with that professional facade of hers; the one that she used on everyone to hide how she truly felt. The facade that she had never once directed to him because he could see right through it every time. And it hurt. Seeing how she couldn't even bear to share even a fragment of emotion to him anymore, as if last night's crying fest between the two was for nothing. He hated it. Indifference felt even colder than the sting of hatred. He'd much rather have preferred she loathed him to the depths of his soul, yet she just waved it off, smiling and making her way around him and to her door. "New era, new me. There's no use in holding grudges or holding on to the past. I appreciate everything you've done for Chaerim today. But I'm sure she's taken up quite a bit of your day, and I wouldn't want to waste anymore of your time."

The door was wide open before Soonyoung could even get a say in, and he unwillingly walked out of the apartment, steps slow and dragging as he passed by (y/n) avoiding his stare by focusing on the floor beneath them. 

"I…" Soonyoung spoke as he passed the threshold of their home, turning around before (y/n) could start closing the door. She looked up at him, brows furrowed together warily at what he could possibly want. "Can I… take Chaerim out some days while I'm here?" Her mouth fell open, but nothing came out, merely shocked to hear Soonyoung's preposition. "I don't have any plans this month, and I really did enjoy my time with her. And I'll take good care of her. That is, only if we have your permission, of course." 

"I'll… I'll have to see how she feels about this. You know, since it's also her opinion on the matter."

"Of course." Soonyoung hesitated for a moment, biting his lip in thought, but he urged himself to push forward. "Can I… give you my number? So we can stay in contact about… Chaerim?" 

"Soonyoung…" She was tongue-tied to say the least, fumbling over noncommittal words and syllables, trying to get herself out of this situation, but to no avail. It brought a smile to his face as she pulled out her phone and handed it to him, because he did have a point. As a mother, she wouldn't want what happened today to happen again. Yes, Soonyoung was playing on her natural maternal instincts, but he meant well nevertheless. 

With their numbers exchanged, she bid him farewell, thanking him one last time before allowing the door to fall closed behind her. And Soonyoung walked out of that apartment building triumphantly, pleased with himself and how his day had gone. His heart felt more full than it ever had before, all because he had the knowledge of (y/n)'s number stored into his phone. It was a silly thing, but something that had him beaming to himself as he took a moment to stare at her contact in his car. He felt like a schoolboy all over again, gushing about his crush who had given him the bare minimum, but God did the bare minimum feel like everything he's ever wanted in life. 

He was snapped out of his revelry with his phone vibrating in hand, Seokmin's contact taking over his screen with an incoming call. 

"Hello?" Soonyoung answered. 

"Soonyoung, hey! It's Seokmin. I just wanted to check up on how everything's going. My grandma got checked up, she just has a few bruises that should clear up in a few weeks. Car doesn't look too good, but at least she's fine."

"That's great!" Soonyoung sighed for his friend, smiling at the good news. "I'm glad to hear everything is okay. As for me, today went well. I picked up Chaerim and took her to the park. We had some sorbets together, walked around a bit, and I just finished dropping her off at (y/n)'s." 

"Awesome, I seriously owe you, dude."

"No, you don't." Soonyoung's eyes glanced up to (y/n)'s floor, comfortingly smiling at whatever the girls could be up to at this time. "I honestly owe you, if we're being honest."

"Ah, you see what I mean?" Seokmin spoke in a teasing manner, and Soonyoung could already envision the shit eating grin across his friend's face. "Isn't she the sweetest thing ever. I love hanging out with her." 

"I do, too," Soonyoung confessed, eyes slowly moving down from the apartment building, naturally landing on his rearview mirror with a clear image of Chaerim's now empty booster seat. "Listen, Seokmin, I have a… serious question to ask you." 

"Shoot, what's up?"

"Who's Chaerim's father?" 

The line was dead silent with only the natural buzz of feedback to greet his ears. His hand clenched at the wheel, waiting for Seokmin's words which seemed to be far too delayed for his taste. As if this silence would stretch on for another eon with Soonyoung wasting away, waiting in anticipation for his answer, only hoping it's the one he wants. 

"I don't know," Seokmin responded, his tone growing grave with his words. "I'm not sure… But I mean, Jihyo is basically her dad. We like to joke around that she's more of a dad than an aunt to the girl, you know what I mean?" Soonyoung pursed his lips, easily seeing how Seokmin redirected the conversation. But he didn't dwell on that, nodding to himself at his friend's excuse of an answer. 

"Yeah, I get you. Jihyo is a real one." 

"I actually have to go and deal with her now, because I had like 20 missed calls from her and I called you first to delay the inevitable when I have to call her back." Soonyoung expelled some air from his nose in a soft, breathy laugh. 

"I wish you luck, my friend." 

"Thank you, I'll be needing it. I'll pick you up at 8 tonight. Sounds good?"

"Sounds good to me."

Soonyoung may have drank too much last night. And he may have woken up with a hangover so bad that even laying on his pillow had his head pounding. All of this may hold true, but none of it stopped Soonyoung from downing some painkillers and heading out to the daycare, far too excited to even consider the pain throbbing at his skull. Because through all of the agony he had woken to, there was one shining light at the end of the dim tunnel; a text from (y/n), saying that both she and Chaerim had consented to him picking her up and spending the day with her. 

He was lucky that the other guys were just as drunk as him, Seokmin not even reading Soonyoung's message telling him he was going to be busy that day—perhaps still knocked out after their rambunctious night, one that Soonyoung struggled to remember. 

He could only remember glimpses of memories here and there. Joshua pulling a Gatorade out of his backpack and mixing it with his shot, attracting the attention of passersby who also wanted a douse of Gatorade infused in their liquor. He remembered Seokmin trying to front flip on the karaoke stage and failing miserably, laying there flat on his back as the instrumental to Call Me Maybe continued playing in the background. He remembered Mingyu and Chan trying to impress girls by using their strength in quite possibly the dumbest way Soonyoung had ever seen being attempted; Chan trying to do pull ups on Mingyu's arms who desperately flexed to try and hold the boy up—though it did manage to impress many guys at the bar, and they made quite a few gym friends along the way.

He was just grateful he managed to find his way home somehow in one piece, and made it a reminder to check on the others later in the day when they've likely recovered. But for now, he was on his way to the daycare, ready to retrieve Chaerim early so they could be together for even longer today. 

The pick up was much like the day before, though this time, Soonyoung came before naptime and was greeted by many smiling faces playing together in the next room. The lady came to greet him once more as Chaerim clung to him again, and soon they were off. 

"Where are we going today, Soonie!" She shouted from where she sat, inside voice out the window as she kicked her feet excitedly once more. The sight warmed his heart, the small mirrored image of her in his rearview mirror sparking this wholesome comfort in his heart, a fond smile stretching across his face. 

"I haven't decided yet, sunshine," he replied. "We can go to the zoo–"

"The zoo!" She cried enthusiastically, the shrillness of her voice somewhat grating on his ear, triggering another throbbing sensation in his head, though he shook it off with a wince and a shrug. "I want the zoo, Soonie! I want the zoo!"

"Or we can go to the mall and I can buy you whatever you want."

She grew quiet all of a sudden, startling Soonyoung who quickly glanced at his rearview mirror to see the girl staring off into oblivion, mouth ajar and eyes glazed over. She sat there completely motionless for a few seconds, and Soonyoung was about to pull over to check on her when she suddenly sat up again. 

"Soonie buys me toys at the zoo." 

He blinked at her proposition, but nevertheless nodded with a laugh. 

"Sounds like a plan. Good job finding a compromise so quickly." 

"What's a com-pom-rise?" 

The remainder of the journey was repetitive, to say the least, with Chaerim babbling nonsensically, hitting Soonyoung with unexpected questions as if to keep him on track with her discussions, singing songs together, and at some point she dozed off for five minutes before waking up fully energized. 

And the zoo was as good an idea as ever, perhaps better than it had gone in his head when he had been deliberating on potential places to take the young girl. Her smile seemed to never fade throughout the day, a permanent fixture on her face as he brought her to each and every animal they had to offer. He'd hold her up to get a better view of the monkeys, summarize what the tour guides said in words she'd understand, even had his arm wrapped around her the entire time she was in the petting zoo, far too wary to approach any of the animals on her own.

All the while, he snapped photos of her and him, sending them to (y/n) to keep her updated. It felt bittersweet to have her on speed dial once more. Accessible to him at any moment in time. He'd remember them texting each other at night, using up all of their minutes just to be with the other. And later on, they'd call each other for hours at a time, his face pressed into the pillow and his phone resting on his ear, dozing off to the sound of her absent-minded humming. Though again, they were merely memories at this point. And he was reminded of that as he sent her the next batch of images, the last one staring back at him almost mockingly.

One where his face was pressed against Chaerim's, the both of them sporting the same toothy smile, cheeks puffed with joy and eyes crinkled into slits. While the fact still remained—that being Chaerim is not his biological child—he couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort looking at the image. A sort of reminder of what could have been. That this little girl is what his child with (y/n) would've looked like had he not thrown everything away.

"Soonie," said little girl called up to him, tugging at the hem of his shirt to summon his attention. "I'm tired." 

That's right, he picked her up before naptime. Not only that, but they've been walking around the zoo for a few hours now. Of course she's bound to be tired, she's still practically a baby. He could probably find a quiet spot where she can nap. She can use his jacket as a blanket and his lap as a pillow. Would that be sufficient enough? What if it's too sunny out for her to nap? Is there a place that's even quiet enough? What if she collapses on him out of exhaustion? 

Another tug at his shirt has him crouching to her height almost immediately, and Chaerim took the opportunity to latch onto his neck, scrambling into his arms so when he stood again, she was safely nestled against him. As if through magic, her touch settled the frenzied thoughts swirling in his head, silencing his incessant doubts and worries with a simple hug. The ends of her pigtails tickled beneath his jaw, grounding him and bringing a smile to his face. 

This must've been what it felt like to be a father. The thought harrowing, the responsibilities debilitating, worries for your child being an inevitable occurrence with every waking moment. Yet at the end of the day, when you had them in your arm, feeling their comforting weight against you, it was like there was nothing to even worry about. Like all of those struggles endured were worth it in the end. Like nothing else in the world mattered, as long as they were safe and happy. This fulfilling sense of harmony like the calm after the storm, the remedy to his qualms, the spark of warmth in an otherwise frigid wasteland.

What power such a tiny human held, one that he had only met some few days ago, yet one that he found himself loving wholeheartedly, willing to throw everything away if that's what she asked of him. There they sat on a secluded bench, his jacket draped on her back as she dozed off on his shoulder. The hanging branches above them offered a generous amount of shade, yet those pesky rays of light that peeked through the leaves threatened Chaerim's rest, so Soonyoung sat there with his hand hovering over her face, making sure nothing disturbed her peace. His arm ached and his shoulder had long gone numb from keeping its position, though he found he couldn't care less about these minor inconveniences. 

Not when his little sunshine was sleeping calmly against him, her steady breaths puffing against his neck as her fists weakly pawed at his shirt. 

The zoo trip finally reached its conclusion, Chaerim strapped into her car seat between her new flamingo, giraffe, and tiger toys, who were also strapped into their seats. The latter was a given, Soonyoung already snagging it from its hook and adding it to her pile. She didn't complain though, if her talking to her new tiger was any indication. On the way home, she had already bestowed upon it the noble name of Stripey, as well as an entire backstory about Stripey having fled from her wartorn kingdom before the enemy lion troops were to capture her, taking refuge in the zoo until Chaerim came to her rescue.

Soonyoung was very invested, on the edge of his seat whenever she hit him with yet another plot twist to the convoluted story, to the point that he hadn't even realized he'd made it to the apartment building until he had actually parked, nor did he truly acknowledge the situation at hand until Chaerim had rapped her knuckles against the door once they had reached the apartment itself. 

Moments later, the door opened, and there stood (y/n) in all of her glory. It was idiotic how absolutely awestruck Soonyoung was every time he saw. How enamored he was with her whenever he so much as stood in her presence. The impact she had on him still to this day something that astonished him, though at the same time didn't necessarily surprise him, as she had lingered in his mind practically every day since the moment he first met her. 

Soonyoung stood in sheer wonderment as usual, though was suddenly sent hurtling into a completely different sense of astoundment as she blessed him with a smile. A warm and genuine grin with tinges of bittersweet poignancy at its edges. It wasn't that conflicted, distant gaze she usually looked at him with, watching him as one would an exhibit of sorts. It felt new, yet comfortingly familiar in a way. As if slowly but surely, her exterior was melting away. 

"Mommy!" Chaerim shouted, squirming out of Soonyoung's arms the moment (y/n) appeared. She managed to wrangle the little girl from Soonyoung's wavering grip, chuckling to herself at the fear that flashed Soonyoung's eyes the moment he thought he'd drop Chaerim. He was left to trail after the two, right arm still clutching the three stuffed animals and the small gift shop bag. All the while, Chaerim babbled on to her mother about the entirety of her day. 

Soonyoung was leant against the wall as the two girls sat themselves on the couch, the scene similar to the day before, yet also vastly different. The setting sun's rays seeping in through the windows no longer felt like an anxious conclusion to the day, though instead a hopeful end. One where Soonyoung could rest assured that he wasn't being completely removed from the equation. He couldn't really pinpoint it, but it felt as if something changed. As if turning a new leaf. Watching the girls talk hadn't felt like he was intruding on a private conversation, but instead spectating the amusing scene of a toddler desperately strewing words together to describe the events of the zoo to her mother. 

"And then–and then Soonie and I went to see the rhinos, and they were like this big," she exclaimed excitedly, tossing her arms open to indicate the sheer size of the animals mentioned. (y/n) nodded, undoing Chaerim's pigtails and combing through her locks. "And then we saw the giraffes and they were even bigger!"

"No way," (y/n) responded, triggering another surge of excitement from the little girl who insisted vehemently on the giraffe's staggering height. Soonyoung rested his head against the wall, a wide smile stretched across his face. (y/n) glanced over at him, biting back her own smile while Chaerim continued.

Something had changed. A shift in the atmosphere that was unlike yesterday's. It felt almost unfair that Soonyoung couldn't narrow down what exactly it was, yet either way he was immensely grateful, especially as (y/n) redirected her attention to him, dismissing Chaerim for now. She stood from the couch, walking into the kitchen, and Soonyoung naturally followed after her, no words needed. 

"Looks like she had fun," (y/n) stated, an entertained laugh slipping out at the end of her sentence.

"She did, I'm glad to see that." Soonyoung glanced into the living room where the aforementioned little girl watched her cartoons in an almost dazed state. "I was worried she wouldn't like it." 

"Please, she got to see animals and she got toys at the end of it all. You couldn't have made her happier." She briefly opened the fridge, pulling out a sealed container before placing it on the island countertop. Soonyoung glanced between it and her for a few moments, not understanding the sudden appearance of the item, but with a roll of her eyes, (y/n) slid it closer to him. "Hangover soup." 

Soonyoung's mouth fell open, eyes widening some as he hesitantly brought the dish closer. 

"How did you know?" She looked at him with amused confusion, as if the answer to the question was obvious. Nonetheless, she shrugged with a smirk. 

"Maybe a little birdie told me you all were getting wasted last night." Soonyoung giggled some, thoughts returning to his friend who most likely is dealing with the same pain as him. He'd be sure to share this with Seokmin when he sees him next. 

"Thank you. Really. You didn't have to do all this."

"Of course I did." She waved him off dismissively, faux exasperation at his humility. His lips pursed into a thin line, fingers fiddling with the twine loops of the gift bag before finally lifting it and placing it on the counter with a soft thud. It was now her turn to look between the bag and him expectantly, only for him to follow her prior movements, sliding the bag across the counter much the same as the soup. 

Hesitatingly, she took the item, the light touch of her fingers causing the dense paper material to crinkle under her. She wore an appreciative, yet otherwise curious, smile as she fished out whatever resided in the bag, lifting it from its bed of wrapping and into the light. 

A small white leather box, unassuming in presentation, to the point that she hadn't even spared a second thought before opening it, unveiling a pair of pearl earrings. Her mouth fell agape, a small gasp leaving past her lips. She stared for a moment more at the jewelry before looking back up at Soonyoung. 

"The zoo had an area where they bred oysters," he explained, his voice coming out softer than intended, yet even so still feeling out of place in the otherwise quiet atmosphere with only the sounds of children's cartoons offering a low humming white noise in the background. She turned back to the earrings, a finger tracing over the smooth surface of the item at hand. "I hope you still like pearls. I saw them and thought of you." 

"I love them." Her response came as quietly as his own, though her voice had a crack in it that had Soonyoung's brows raising in concern. Meeting his gaze again proved his suspicions correct, her eyes now glassy with a pout on her lip as she clutched the box closer to her chest. 

"Aww, baby, don't cry." Soonyoung let out a laugh, body moving instinctively as he opened his arms. It wasn't until she had already shuffled into his embrace, whining into his chest and quietly releasing her tears, that he realized what he'd done. Though feeling her against him, the warmth of her tears against his shirt, that soothing aroma of hers that always calmed his nerves, the weight of her head pressing into him, quelled the worries in his heart. Like mother, like daughter, the two girls holding such an authority over him to be able to sway his every thought and his every emotion. For the next few minutes, he reveled in whatever comfort he could acquire, arms squeezing (y/n) to him as she mumbled her thanks to the man. 

For once, Soonyoung felt a sense of completion, more sated holding (y/n) than he had been at his own graduation. His lips twitched into a smile, and he was sure (y/n) must have heard the beating of his heart kick up with every passing moment, though she didn't comment on it. Chaerim had begun singing the songs on her show, and the orange glow of the setting sun continued basking them in its warm honey-like ambience. 

For once in his both hectic and monotonous life, he felt a stability he feared he'd never experience, the key to his peace resting in the hands of (y/n) herself. As if he had strayed from his intended path, only to veer back to her. Like no matter how far you throw a rock into the air, it's bound to return to the earth below it. No matter how far he fled from home, no matter how distant he grew from her, he'd always find his way back to (y/n). Like it was meant to be. And as he cradled her to him, he knew it was because it truly was meant to be.

He didn't know for how long he'd stood there holding (y/n), rocking them back and forth calmly as they embraced one another, though it was the sound of the apartment door opening that brought them back to reality, regrettably separating as Jihyo waltzed in. She had a look of surprise on her face for a moment, but offered Soonyoung a kind smile in greeting. 

"I should head out," Soonyoung quietly spoke, turning back to (y/n) after waving to Jihyo. 

"I'll walk you out," she replied, already walking out of the kitchen and into the main hall.

Soonyoung made a brief detour to the living room, crouching in front of the couch where Chaerim resided. 

"I'm heading out now." Chaerim immediately threw herself at him, causing Soonyoung to briefly huff at the sudden action. 

"I want Soonie to stay." 

"I can't, sunshine. We'll hang out again tomorrow, yeah?"

"Zoo?"

"I was thinking we could go to the aquarium. We can see more water animals." She gasped, pulling herself away from him to nod enthusiastically. Soonyoung laughed, nodding along with her and promising to pick her up from daycare again. Though before he could stand up, she grabbed him again, dragging him closer to her. 

"Come to my birthday," she insisted, practically vibrating with excitement. "It's really soon. Mommy says the 17th. Come to my birthday." 

"Okay, sunshine, I'm there."

She finally let him go, smiling as he walked back to the hallway where Jihyo and (y/n) stood. Jihyo bid Soonyoung a brief goodbye before heading to the living room with Chaerim. 

"I can't thank you enough for taking care of Chaerim, and for my earrings." (y/n) fiddled with the box still in her hand, and Soonyoung couldn't help but to grin at her shyness. 

"Of course. Nothing but the best for you both." 

"And thank you for the pictures… I really liked them." 

"I'm glad to hear." He felt his cheeks warming under her attention, bashfully looking down at his feet. "I'll send more tomorrow. We're going to the aquarium." 

"Oh, she's going to love that."

There was a pause between them, a silence as they looked at each other one last time. Soonyoung couldn't help but to smile whilst admiring her, remembering how he'd zone out in class and miss the entire lesson because he was staring at the back of her head. Old habits die hard. 

A sudden holler from the living room drew their attention back to the present, snickering at Chaerim's hoots of laughter from beyond the apartment. Though it reminded Soonyoung of what had happened some few moments ago. 

"Chaerim invited me to her birthday." (y/n) smiled at this, nodding her head at his words. 

"Yeah, it's coming up in just a few days. It's just going to be a little get together with Jihyo, Seokmin, and I. Maybe some of the guys, but who knows. We'd love to have you over." 

"I'd love to attend. So this is me RSVPing for that." 

"I'll be sure to write your name on the list of attendees." They shared another laugh together.

Soonyoung couldn't believe how light it felt to be with her today. That agonizingly taxing weight which once lingered over him in her presence now all but dissipated. He couldn't tell what had happened, but God he'd be lying if he said he wasn't eternally grateful for such a turn of events.

The glee in this revelation remained with him as he drove home, and also as he ate all of the hangover soup, changing his mind about sharing with Seokmin, keeping (y/n)'s gift all to himself. 

"Bullshit!" Chan shouted, already whipping his hand out towards the messily strewn pile of cards at the center of the table. Flipping over the first two of the pile revealed an ace and a ten—not the two aces that Jeonghan had initially declared. 

The man groaned to himself as he dragged the entire pile over, causing Chan to victoriously raise his arms up in the air. Beside him, Mingyu patted his back while Seokmin hyped him up, the two sporting encouraging smiles for the youngest's achievement. With a new round starting, Soonyoung grabbed two from his hand and placed them at the now barren center. 

"Two aces," he announced, leaning back and refusing to meet anyone's perceptive stare. No matter how drunk they got, they somehow always remained vigilant when it came down to Bullshit. 

"One two," Wonwoo muttered afterwards, dropping a card into the newly accumulating pile. 

"Two threes," Jihoon leant forward to join with his addition, leaning back seconds after and absentmindedly reorganizing the cards in his hand currently, unaware of the six other men staring at him in disbelief. 

"Um… Bullshit?" Seokmin mumbled confusedly, causing Jihoon to finally peek over and see that the two supposed threes he'd dropped were instead face up, revealing instead a three and a nine. 

"No– Wait– Don't look at that." He dove forward to retrieve his cards, but he knew it was too late as the lot all erupted into laughter, shouting out Jihoon's slip up and pushing the slim pile over to him. "I hate this game. Why are we even playing this game? I don't want to play this game. Let's play Uno." 

"Like that's any less ruthless," Jeonghan grumbled, brandishing his hand which made up a good chunk of the 52 count deck of theirs. Jihoon took another swig of his beer, irate at the turn of events.

"Someone better win soon then, or I'm leaving the party early." 

"Don't worry," Chan stood to his feet, chair scraping back as he assumed a heroic pose. He raised his hand up, a single card resting between his two fingers. "I've got that covered." He gently placed the card at the center of the table, his voice just as soft as he announced. "One four."

Vernon glanced down at his cards, brow raising as he glanced from his hand to Chan. His mouth had momentarily opened, but before he could call the boy out on his fib, Jihoon all but tossed his cards ceremoniously onto the table, clapping and monotonously cheering for the winner of the game. 

"Hooray, good job. Seokmin, get your Uno." 

As the new game was starting, Seokmin dealing out everyone's seven cards, Soonyoung's phone buzzed against his lap. With one last tentative sip of his drink, not wanting to go through another terrible hangover so soon, he pulled out his phone under the table. Almost immediately, his expression brightened, putting down his drink and scooting out from the table. 

"Excuse me, I have to take this," he quickly stated, shuffling away from the rowdy bunch and into the hall. The noise was muted some here, just enough that he could probably talk peacefully on the phone, though if not, Seokmin's bedroom door was right there next to him. With one last sigh, he swiped on the incoming call, voice unexpectedly wavering as he answered. "Hello?"

"Soonie!" The familiar shrill voice of Chaerim momentarily surprised him, though his shock washed away rather quickly. 

"Hello, sunshine! How are you?" Soonyoung already found himself slipping into the aforementioned bedroom, knowing his voice would carry over to where the others resided. 

"I'm good!"

With the formalities over and out of the way, she began spewing out near nonsense supposedly telling Soonyoung about her day from what he could decipher. He hummed affirmatively and responded when need be, though for the most part just sat there with a dopey smile as the little girl continued on with her speech. From beyond her voice, Soonyoung could hear (y/n) in the background, giggling to herself as Chaerim talked, and it had Soonyoung biting his lip, his cheeks aching with the sheer breadth of his grin. 

"Soonie, you didn't pick me up today," she noted randomly. 

"I know, sweet pea, it's the weekend. Don't you want to spend time with your mommy?" 

"No, I'm okay." Soonyoung laughed as (y/n) whined at her daughter's quick dismissal of her, even more so when (y/n) began seemingly wrestling the child for the phone back. "No! I want Soonie! No!" 

"You're quickly losing Soonie privileges, Chae." (y/n) warned, voice authoritative, yet nevertheless carrying a jesting undertone.

"Soonie, she's so mean to me. Where are you? Why aren't you here?" 

"I'm at Uncle Seokmin's house."

"I want to go to Uncle Seokmin's house. I want to be with Soonie." His heart felt so incredibly full, his hand clenching over where the organ was beating. She was too precious for this world, he thought. If he hadn't already had a drink or two, he'd be driving over to the apartment to reunite with Chaerim right then and there. Though with some forced restraint, he tethered himself back to reality, pouting at his newfound maturity. 

"I can't, Soonie isn't feeling very well right now." 

"Oh no! Why are you sick?"

"I drank some… icky water… and now I'm too weak to drive over to you." 

"Soonie, don't die." Her voice was suddenly so terribly sad, and Soonyoung immediately regretted his words. 

"No, I'm just feeling a little sick! I'm not big sick!"

"The icky water made Soonie's tummy hurt. You know how tummy aches feel, right?" (y/n) began explaining, earning a sound of acknowledgement from the little girl who quickly returned to the phone. 

"Soonie, it's okay, I get tummy aches, too. It's okay, it's okay." 

"Thank you, sweetie. I'll be sure to feel better before your birthday." 

He could hear (y/n) whispering to Chaerim, her voice quiet as she told Chaerim to say goodnight to him. 

"Goodnight, Soonie! I can't wait to see you on my birthday! I miss you!"

"I miss you, too."

"I love you." 

If his heart had felt full before, it was practically overflowing now, that overabundance of warmth now seeping into his stomach, gripping him with its comfort and bringing a flush to his face. 

"I love you, too, sunshine." 

There was some commotion on the other line, the two quietly speaking to each other, though now Soonyoung couldn't really decipher it. He just sat there, permanent smile on his face, still reeling over Chaerim's farewell. It felt nice. To be loved by this little girl that he had already accepted he loved back with all of his heart. It felt gratifying, that of all people, Chaerim came to love him. 

"Hey," (y/n)'s voice sounded from the phone. 

"Hi." He found himself looking down at the floor, socked feet fiddling with the carpet beneath him, brushing it back and forth and toying with the opposing shades it created.

After a little over a week, it still felt so surreal to hear (y/n) again. To be near her. To be able to actually talk to her. As if his six year drought had come to an end with her monsoon-like return. As if she brought life back to his otherwise desolate form. He felt more alive these last few days than he has in the half decade he's been away. He was beginning to feel concerned for himself, because he honestly couldn't even remember the past six years he's been gone, all of it like a numbing fever dream where he'd survived on autopilot alone.

But now he was present. He felt himself again. He felt like a human being. As dependent as it may sound, (y/n) made him who he was, and he was nothing without her. 

"Sorry about that. She refused to go to sleep until she saw Soonie today." 

"I don't mind. It did feel weird today not seeing her." 

"You spoil her too much. She still refuses to let go of her manta ray stuffed animal since you got it for her at the aquarium." Soonyoung chuckled at this, remembering that day fondly. 

"That's surprising, considering she was terrified to even approach the stingray petting area." (y/n) laughed, remembering the picture Soonyoung sent her of him smiling at the camera while Chaerim was red faced and crying next to the said animal petting area. 

"Says the guy who had to be protected by that same little girl when you both went to the circus."

"Hey." Soonyoung's quick interjection had (y/n) bursting into another fit of giggles. "Those clowns were terrifying. She was a brave soul that day. I wouldn't have come out alive." 

"Of course, I understand."

"Well, we'll see who's talking when we take you to an amusement park for the rollercoasters." She gasped at his threat, her voice dropping into a pained whisper soon after. 

"You wouldn't dare."

"I would, you know I would." 

"I'm being abused by both my daughter and you, I can't handle this." 

His heart felt light, soaring about frivolously without a care in the world. This dark mass which once clung to it had slowly but surely faded away, taking with it the dense murkiness it once obscured Soonyoung's life with. Those butterflies in his stomach fluttered with it, joyous and abundant after their long hibernation, dormant until (y/n) had come back into the picture. 

Her voice spoke to him like a lullaby, soft and tranquil as she chatted faintly, words light and breathy and weaving together into incoherency, though he didn't really mind, reminded of the days they'd do just this until they passed out. 

"(y/n), you're tired," Soonyoung uttered, to which she hummed in consideration. 

"I am."

"You should go to sleep." There was an ache in his heart, sending her off so early, though he couldn't keep her to himself all night. She was busy, and sleep was practically a rare commodity to her. 

Silence settled over the two, with only the grainy feedback of the phone call to occupy them, yet Soonyoung still found it to be comforting merely knowing she was on the other line. He'd probably stay on the phone with her all night like this if he could, but he really should let her go. 

"I don't want to." Her response was low, a whisper into the phone, as if having uttered something she shouldn't have. His breath stuttered, body stiffening while his heart seized in on itself, thudding against his chest to the point that it almost ached. And with the undeniable warmth coursing through his veins at the moment, he couldn't help but grin to himself, clutching the phone tighter in his hand.

"I don't want you to either."

She hummed appreciatively at this, a content thrum against his ear, and for a moment, he was beside her. He was laying there, her hair fanning out against her pillow, eyes slid shut with the faintest trace of a smile gracing her lips. He could feel her breath against his skin, her presence like an otherworldly comfort. He could hear her breathing growing steadier by the minute as they basked in the silence. Telltale sign of her drifting off. And the thought seemed to come to him naturally, like an old record that still played the same tune as he began rambling. 

"The guys are playing Uno in the other room. We were playing BS, but Jihoon lost his patience a bit." He heard a slight chuckle on her side, though one that hadn't deterred her already tired state. "I'm pretty sure he's still losing his patience. Uno is much worse than BS. I'll text you the details tomorrow once I go out there again later." He leant back, laying flat on Seokmin's bed with his phone still pressed to his cheek. "I already got Chaerim her gift. I don't know if I should tell you. I think you'll get mad at me. But Chaerim will like it at least. I know she will."

He paused for a moment, thoughts still whirling in his head. He chuckled to himself thinking about his gift, the mental image of Chaerim using it already playing in his head.

Chaerim. 

"I really did miss my little sunshine today. I know we've hung out everyday, but it still feels lonely without her. On the bright side, I already know where I'm taking her next. I think she'd like the ice skating rink. The one we used to go to."

Memories came to him. Memories of that very rink. Of his friends and him all busting their ass more than once. Jun clinging to the plexiglass paneling on the rink's perimeter. Jihoon teetering with his legs and arms spread out as far as possible. Chan accidentally learning to skate backwards first. Soonyoung struggling to grasp the concept of ice skating, clinging to (y/n) like his life depended on it. Really, it did. And she'd just laugh and let him hold her, his arms wrapped around her body with his head resting on her shoulders, and she'd skate them around while Soonyoung just cradled her to him. 

He hasn't skated in years. Not since (y/n). He didn't even realize this until this very moment. 

"Maybe I should hold out on the skating rink for another day. I don't think I can actually skate. I never really learned." He pursed his lips, blinking back his sadness. "I never learned because once I did, it would mean I wouldn't need you anymore. I wouldn't be able to hold you like I did. It would've just taken away one of the ways I showed my love to you." The blinking was becoming redundant as he felt his eyes begin to burn with unshed tears. "But it was kinda pointless in the end since I was the one that took away our love. Since I was the one that gave up." 

He scoffed as he felt the first tear slip by, as if he even deserved to cry at this point. Though once the second and the third slipped by, that indignant irritation disappeared, leaving behind the raw sadness that had been plaguing him for years. He frowned, staring at the popcorn ceiling above him. It looked like (y/n)'s ceiling growing up.

He was reminded of those sleepless nights when she'd jostle him awake, either anxious with her thoughts or scared from a nightmare, and he'd lay awake with her. They'd rest their heads against one another as she talked to him, released her thoughts so they were no longer trapped in her head. And he'd comfort her with words or cuddles. He'd point at the textured ceiling staring down from above them, making constellations and telling her whatever convoluted story he'd make up on the spot. Until she had fallen asleep peacefully to the sound of his voice, a smile on her face as he kissed her goodnight before falling asleep himself. 

Staring up at that very ceiling, the replacement for their city's light polluted sky, only served to make him cry harder. He shook his head at the thought, at his words he'd only just uttered. 

"I gave up our relationship like a fucking idiot," he muttered, voice wrought with emotion, wavering with the tension in his throat. "But I never gave up our love. Never once in my life have I ever stopped loving you. And I never will. Even after you've moved on, I'll still be here, knowing that I lost my soulmate the night I walked away. The night I left you." He bit his lip at the memory, sniffling as softly as he could. From the sound of her breathing, he knew she was asleep, yet he kept going. "That was the most painful thing I've ever had to do. Leaving you was a mistake, but it was just… atrocious of me to leave you alone in my bed like that. I should've done better. I should've said goodbye to you personally like I had wanted to." A sob slipped past his lips for a moment, but he brought his fist up to his mouth, concealing the despair that seeped out of him with every word. "I shouldn't have even left you in the first place."

He moved to wipe his tears, smiling through the pain as he heard the deep steady breaths on the other line, anchoring him back to the present. 

"I love you," he admitted, a laugh following at the end of it. "I love you so much. More than I could ever even try to explain. I love you." His hand flew up to his hair, tugging at the strands as more tears flooded his eyes, that agonized smile stretching further across his face. "I love the way you haven't changed over the years. I love the way you still make me happy. I love how strong and intelligent you are. I love how you still show your love through different means. I love that you made me soup when I was hungover. I love that you wear those pearl earrings I got you everyday. I love how you still fall asleep to my voice. I love Chaerim. I love your little family." Another shaky breath, and the tension which had built up over the course of his confession unraveled, his body going limp, and that smile slackened until it was truly genuine. A genuine, gentle, ever so loving, absolutely enamored smile as he let it all go. As he accepted his flaws. His mistakes from the past. His frenzied emotions. His absolute, undeniable, to the moon sort of love he held for (y/n). "I love you." 

The last few minutes of the call were spent with Soonyoung silently crying, letting out the last shreds of despair wracking his body. Her breathing soothed his tormented heart, reminding him of the constant she was to him. That anchor in his life he so desperately needed, tethering him to her lest he stray wayward once more. He felt that tug once more. That urge to run directly to her. To watch her peaceful form beside him, memorizing every line and every detail of her face, tracing the outlines of her form carefully with his eyes, until he had it all ingrained in his mind where he'd then fall asleep, pressing a kiss to her forehead before drifting off. 

"Goodnight, my love," he muttered, which was all he could do at this point, smiling warmly as he took in the last remnants of her presence before he'd have to leave. "Sweet dreams." 

The game had all but stopped once Soonyoung had come back an hour later with tear stained cheeks and blood shot eyes, face red and puffy, all the while attempting to act as nonchalant as possible, as if he hadn't just walked out of the most devastating experience he'd ever encountered. 

"You good?" Chan was the first to break the silence, eyebrow raised in concern at the state of his elder. Soonyoung nodded. 

"Yeah, why?" His voice cracked, as if the cherry on top to this entire fiasco. 

"Who was that on the phone?" Wonwoo was the next to speak, fiddling with the cards in his hands. 

"Oh, it was just (y/n) and Chaerim."

The boys uttered a collective 'ah' in understanding, returning to their game as if nothing had happened. That is except Jihoon, taking another gulp of beer with a sigh followed after. 

"You know what, this is good," Jihoon announced aloud. Jeonghan absentmindedly hummed at him to continue, all the while dropping his card on the pile at the table's center. "Let it all out, talk to each other. So much unresolved tension that's finally getting closure." He pointed to Soonyoung, eyebrows furrowed seriously. "It's about time you two made up."

"He's right," Vernon spoke up, putting his cards face down before him. "You guys… personally founded romance or something. You're our modern day Romeo and Juliet." He placed his hands on his chest, looking around the table for support as he continued. "I was honestly devastated when they broke up. Cause like if they can't work out, what hope do we have?" Chan nodded at this, pursing his lips in understanding. Wonwoo similarly mimicked this, lips downturned as he confirmed Vernon's words. "You need her. She needs you. You both need each other. It just doesn't make sense to have one without the other. You know what I'm saying?" 

"You two were made for each other!" Jihoon cried out passionately, slapping down a draw four and causing Jeonghan's jaw to slacken at his audacity. 

Soonyoung was flustered at all the attention on him, and was ever so grateful when the game returned to its original state before he had intervened. Beside him, Seokmin patted his back, as if knowing Soonyoung was riddled with conflicting thoughts and emotions. Though really it was pretty one dimensional where his stance had settled. 

He loved (y/n). He loved Chaerim. He loved them both. God, he wanted them both. But he's been far too greedy in his life. And at this point, he's willing to take whatever (y/n) was willing to offer him.

Soonyoung knocked on the door excitedly, biting back his smile as he heard Chaerim's familiar holler from within the apartment. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing a smiling Jihyo donning a pink party hat. 

"Hey Soonyoung! Come on–" She stopped talking once she looked down and saw the gigantic box at his feet. It had barely even fit through the door and required both of them cooperating with one another to manage it through. "What the hell did you buy this little girl?" 

"Soonie!" Said little girl came barreling out of a room down the hall, hurdling herself into his arms at full velocity.

"Chaerim!" He yelled back, squeezing her in his arms and twirling her in the air. She erupted into giggles, face squished into his neck as her limbs clung to him desperately. "How's my favorite birthday girl?"

Before she could respond, a delighted gasp brought their attention to her, her eyes now entirely trained on the enormous box behind Jihyo.

"Is that mine?" She asked excitedly, squirming out of Soonyoung's grasp to rush over to the box. It was practically as big as her, and it had Soonyoung giggling to himself as well. Jihyo shook her head, staring at him in disbelief before turning back to Chaerim. 

"Yes, sweetie, Soonie got it for you. You can open it after we blow out your candles." She immediately came bounding back to Soonie, crouched to her height as she hugged the living daylights out of him. 

"Thank you, Soonie." He grinned, hugging her back happily. 

"Of course, sunshine." A few moments passed before (y/n) came strolling out of her room, just as lovely as she always was. Her eyes landed on Soonyoung, and he felt his heart skip multiple beats upon the sudden smile she had on her face. 

"Soonyoung, you came!" He stood up, Chaerim still held by his right arm as he accepted (y/n)'s hug with his left. He felt so full, heart overflowing with adoration and stomach twisting into happy little knots as he surrounded himself with his two favorite girls. Jihyo stood on the sidelines, a contented pout on her face as she watched the scene before her. 

Still wrapped in Soonyoung's hold, (y/n) glanced over to Jihyo. 

"Any news on Seokmin?" 

"Stuck at work," Jihyo regretfully informed, glancing down at her phone as if checking to see if Seokmin had miraculously escaped the clutches of his day job. "But he did invite some of the other guys, so they should be showing up throughout the day."

"Oh, that'll be chaotic," (y/n) snickered, laying her head on Soonyoung's chest in thought. He had no quarrels with this, in a permanent blissed out state as he rocked them all back and forth, lost in his own world. "Should we just have her blow out her candles now so she can play with her toys throughout the day?" (y/n) continued talking as Chaerim had yelled out her agreeance excitedly. "That way she'll have time to play with some toys, and then when one of the boys comes, she can play with the next toy?"

"That sounds like a plan." Jihyo nodded, already in motion as she began setting up the cake.

Soonyoung handled the birthday girl as (y/n) and Chaerim scurried about, delicately placing some candles on the cake, to which Chaerim indignantly commanded there to be more. Once there were about 20 candles scattered across her princess themed cake, Soonyoung placed her down on a barstool placed at the middle island, making his way across the counter to where (y/n) stood. Jihyo sat beside the little girl, slowly lighting up the candles for the ceremony until (y/n) took a sharp intake of breath, turning to face Soonyoung with a shocked expression on her face.

Before he could reciprocate her panic, however, she had already begun fleeing from the kitchen. 

"I forgot the camera!" Her voice faded in the distance as she grew further away, leaving the three of them in the kitchen. Soonyoung averted his gaze from where (y/n) ran off to Chaerim, precariously eyeing her cake with a mischievous glint in her eyes. It brought a smile to his face, watching the few lit candles flicker in the reflection of her dark eyes. 

"You should blow out the candles before wax gets on the cake," Soonyoung suggested, catching Chaerim's eye as she began smiling with him. Before Jihyo could put out the few candles, Chaerim beat her to it, puffing out her cheeks and blowing out the tiny flames in one big breath. Victoriously, she threw her hands up in the air. 

"Yay! I'm turning five!" She hollered aloud, bringing a chuckle out of Jihyo beside her. 

"No, sweetie, you are five. You only say turning when you're going to be that age very soon. Yesterday, you were turning five. Today, you are five. Understand?" 

"No." 

"Okay, well–" Jihyo was cut off by the sudden presence of Soonyoung's hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention over to the suddenly very shaken man. His eyes were shaky, attempting to focus on Jihyo, but struggling to maintain what little restraint he had left in him. 

"She's five?" He asked, voice coming out in a wavering manner through his unsteady breathing. Jihyo looked at him confused for a moment, incredulous at his inquiry, though as quickly as she mentally questioned him, realization had hit her. Realization that Soonyoung had put the puzzle together. 

"Soonyoung–" She started, her tone of voice full of remorse, though she couldn't get much else out as he all but bolted out of the kitchen and down the hall, barging into (y/n)'s room unceremoniously. His head whipped about momentarily until his eyes landed on her emerging from her closet, digital camera in hand. 

"Oh, I found the camera, it's alright–" (y/n) yelped as Soonyoung's hands clamped down on her shoulders, the force of his hold startling her for a second, though not harming her in any manner. As if his only intention was to keep her where she stood. 

"(y/n)," he began, faltering in his speech. She grew concerned for him, hands instinctively reaching up to hold onto his bicep, squeezing him back reassuringly. The motion, at any other moment in time would've called him down. Though right now, it did nothing but remind him of who stood before him. "(y/n), I've asked Jihyo. I've asked Seokmin. I haven't asked you. So I'm only going to ask this once." At this point, (y/n) was slowly understanding the situation at hand, and she could do nothing but quiver at the raw emotion in his eyes. The blaze of unbridled despondency seeping into his dark, lonely gaze. His lips quivered as he took in another breath, nerves shaking with him and almost sending his body into a similar state. "Is Chaerim my daughter?" 

Her mouth had fallen open, and then it closed, and opened again, though no sound came out. Her eyes darted about the room, from the door leading to the hallway, to her bedside table, to the closet behind her. Anywhere but Soonyoung, who couldn't tear his gaze away from her for even a moment, trained on her every minute action, relying on his years of being fluent in (y/n) to lead him to his answer. 

She was scared, that much was obvious. She was attempting to school her expression, a twitch on her lip trying to incite a casual smile to brush him off. A light, humorous scoff being the first sound to leave her lips, and she finally focused her eyes on his mouth. 

"What are you talking about?" She asked, a joking air to her words, a tone that could have potentially fooled others, but Soonyoung could detect the lack of sincerity in her actions. Her fingers twitched where they rested on his arm, squeezing him to calm herself as she continued. "Jihyo and Seokmin have both told you no."

"They have," Soonyoung agreed, dragging (y/n) closer, so close that he was sure she could hear the way his heart beat so violently against his chest, just as terrified of the results of this interrogation as she was. "But you haven't."

That faux curl of her lips had crumbled, bottom lip trembling as her eyes began to well with tears, her body similarly quaking under his touch. Her breathing had picked up, chest rising and falling to an almost concerning rate that Soonyoung had to reposition them, one hand falling down to her back and the other brushing away the strands of hair in her face. She whimpered at the sudden proximity, attempting to curl in on herself and away from Soonyoung's prying eyes. 

"(y/n)," he quietly called out to her, voice now hushed, lowly soothing her as best he could. Her hands had retracted to her chest, fiddling with the material of his shirt as he drew her closer to him, shushing her when silent tears had begun slipping out. At this point, he had his answer. He just needed (y/n) to come to terms with it as well. So he patiently held her, face buried in her hair as he swayed them side to side, rocking her until he felt her breathing even out. 

When he retracted his head to look down at her, he saw her terror filled eyes, widened and focused on the whitewashed wall of her bedroom. Gently, his finger trailed down to her chin, bringing her face to him as he pressed his forehead against hers, noses brushing past one another. When she met his resolute gaze, his eyes like the calm of a dark sea, her panic slowly but surely subsided, his staunch resolve seeping into her own eyes. 

Finally, in the steadiest manner he could muster, Soonyoung breathed out the question once more. 

"Is she my daughter?" A silence settled between the two, (y/n) slowly becoming lost as he stared into her soul, as if he were weaving his way back into her life, tangling the strings she had worked tirelessly to rid herself of, yet she couldn't find it in her to feel repulsed by his invasion at all. Instead, relief momentarily flooded her being. That peaceful understanding and comfort she had always felt in his arms reminding her of who he was. Her defenses had crumbled, and her mouth had fallen agape once more, voice coming out as nothing more than a whisper as she answered him. 

"Yes." 

His first reaction was to laugh. This disbelieving chuckle as he slowly pulled away from her, eyes immediately watering once more. His hands flew to his hair, yanking at the strands as a smile overtook his features. He was ecstatic. He had a daughter. A beautiful, lovely daughter outside waiting for his return. He had a daughter with the girl he promised himself he would one day start a family with. 

(y/n) had slapped a hand over her mouth as Soonyoung separated from her, a loud sob threatening to leave her. At some point, she lost the strength in her legs and collapsed on the edge of her bed, crying into her hand as Soonyoung considered the newfound information. 

He was beyond happy to have Chaerim, though he sat there processing the weight of such a discovery. He had fallen to the ground soon after, on his knees as tears streamed down his face. 

"I have a daughter," he spoke aloud, hands gripping at the carpeting beneath him. "I have a daughter." He crawled over to (y/n), hands shooting up to her face as his thumbs brushed over the tears in her eyes. "(y/n), we have a daughter!" His hands went everywhere, brushing back her hair, smoothing out her shirt, running over the goosebumps on her arms. "We have a daughter…" His head rested on her thighs in between where her hands rested on her lap. "Why am I only just finding out on her fifth birthday? Why have you all been lying to me?"

He sat up again, staring at (y/n), awaiting any sort of response, but she sat there sniffling, quietly sobbing to herself. He didn't know for how long he stared at her before she finally spoke, voice broken and defeated. 

"You left me…" She couldn't meet his gaze, staring down at where he had scooped her hands into his own. The sight brought another wave of sadness through her, having to bite back the fresh tears wanting to be shed. "You left me. I begged you to give me a chance. Give us a chance. And you left me." His thumbs brushed over her wrists, encouraging her to keep talking. "Not only that, but you stopped talking to all of us. I know you felt bad about leaving in the first place. I know you thought it'd be better to just disappear from our lives than make us deal with long distance and time difference, but it was still painful, Soonyoung." He shut his eyes, laying his head back into her lap where she began absentmindedly fiddling with the messy strands of his hair. "And then I found out I was pregnant and… I was terrified. I just…" She stopped, clearing her throat from the dejection riddling her voice. "You chose to follow your dreams. That didn't include Chaerim and I. I didn't want to drag you back into this life you didn't want." 

"Baby, no," he whined, sitting back on his heels and tugging (y/n) down from her bed and onto the floor with him, cradling her weakened body in his arms. "You both are my dream. You're my fantasy. You're the only thing I've ever wanted in life." He pressed his lips wherever he could reach, mumbling between each and every kiss. "I never meant to make you think otherwise. I just wanted you to be happy."

"You make me happy, idiot," she countered, the loudest thing she's said in the past few minutes, startling Soonyoung for a moment. "And I didn't want to tell you this month because… you have that job offer, and Chaerim and I will only be a burden to you."

"(y/n), I couldn't care less about that damn job offer." She pulled away from his shoulder, meeting his unexpectedly passionate gaze, brows furrowed and ever so determined. He squeezed her tighter in his arms. "I have a family right here. Do you understand how…thrilled I am?" Another tear slipped from his eye, though this one was paired with a genuinely warm and blithe grin, a sight that brought a smile of her own to (y/n)'s face, giggling as he pressed his forehead against hers again. "I was already happy to have reunited with you, and to have met Chaerim, but now…" He chuckled, biting his lip a second after to mute the bubbly feeling in his chest. "Now she's my daughter. She's mine." 

His eyes were so incredibly mirthful, shining with unshed tears and unadulterated glee. She couldn't help but to smile at his happiness, pressing her hands against his cheeks and rubbing her nose against his own. The way he hugged her, fingers gripping her as if an extra measure to keep her close to him, reminded them of their youth. Their youth and the love they once held for each other. Their love that hadn't faded. Their love that persisted through time, distance, and every hurdle life has thrown their way. 

"But your degree–" She started, but Soonyoung cut her off immediately. 

"To hell with my degree, (y/n)! Holy shit, I'm a father!" He buried himself into her hair, drawing her even closer to his chest, holding her so closely to where her ear pressed against his torso, right over where his heart beat so rapidly within him. Though hesitant, she wrapped her arms around his body, hugging him back. Giggles and tears and happy sighs left them both, wandering hands squeezing any part of their person they could grab, wanting so much of the other that it almost didn't make sense. "I'm staying."

"What?"

"I'm staying." She pulled away to meet his gaze, so sure and earnest as he nodded at her confused eyes. "I can't leave you again. I physically can't. Even if you don't accept me as your lover anymore, I can't bear to be so far away from you again." Her heart fluttered at his confession, going speechless once more, allowing him to continue on. "Plus, I have Chaerim now. I need to be here for her. I have to make up for lost time." 

"Y-you're staying?" It was the only thing her overwhelmed brain could come up with, not even able to process the heart fluttering and adoring gaze Soonyoung looked at her with.

"I'm staying. I couldn't care less about a job offer or my degree or anything else. None of it matters. I just need you and Chaerim. And I can't believe it took me 6 years to realize this."

Immediately, another sob broke out, and even more tears spilled from her eyes. Tears that Soonyoung swiped away as quickly as they appeared, giggling at her with such loving eyes. Though as she quieted down and he had a moment to his thoughts, he swallowed down the lump in his throat and shut his eyes. 

"I love you, (y/n). So much. So, so fucking much... I'm so sorry for what I've made you go through. I should've been here this entire time. I shouldn't have given up on us. I'm so sorry." He could've said more, but she shook her head at him, cradling his face again, encouraging him to open his eyes and meet hers. 

"I forgive you, Soonyoung." He blinked at her words, eyes darting between her own as if looking for any falsitude in her statement. 

"You do?" He asked. She nodded at him. 

"Just please don't leave me again." 

"I'd never dream of it." 

Her eyes shone with such fondness, grin tugging at the corners of her lips as she stroked back Soonyoung's hair, properly admiring his grown features for the first time since he came back. Something she hadn't granted herself the privilege of doing so before, for fear of falling in love and being abandoned again. Though now she was sure, with that devoted glimmer in his eye and that dumb in love smile stretched on his face, that he truly was staying this time around. 

That's what motivated her to lean forward and press a chaste, yet affectionate kiss to his lips, separating before he could respond to it.

"I love you, too, Soonyoung." A short bout of silence fell between the two, Soonyoung staring at her blankly as she giggled and continued to play with his hair. Though soon enough, he came to his senses, hand cupping her cheek and drawing her into him again for another kiss. A better kiss. One that he poured his entire heart and soul into. One that he hoped conveyed what his words couldn't. How regretful he is. How relieved he is. How absolutely in love he is.

His hand stroked over her face, fingers slipping into her hair as he brought her even closer to him, arm tightening around her waist and pressing her against him. The only thing that stopped their kiss was their smiling, laughs that bubbled out of them both. She continued littering kisses onto him, even more giggles slipping from his mouth. Delighted laughs that filled the room and her heart. He had felt so at ease and so loved that he almost hadn't acknowledged the faint knock at the doorway, the ajar door slowly rolling wider to reveal Chaerim peeking in. 

"Mommy, Aunt Jihyo is asking if you guys are okay." It was the first time Soonyoung was seeing Chaerim since the revelation, but he couldn't have felt happier seeing the girl than right now. Looking at her before him right at this moment felt so obvious. He couldn't believe he even doubted himself. He couldn't believe he went along with Jihyo and Seokmin's words. He couldn't believe he didn't immediately know for a fact that she was his own flesh and blood. 

"Yes, baby, we're okay," (y/n) responded, laying her head against Soonyoung happily. 

Chaerim stood there for a moment more, twiddling with the stray lace of her princess gown as she looked between the two. 

"Does he know the secret?" His heart twisted at her words, looking over to (y/n) with an unreadable expression. A short breath of air expelled from her nose as she nodded. 

"Yes." 

At her mother's words, Chaerim came walking over to him. For the first time since he ever even met her, this was the first sign of hesitance she'd ever displayed—the momentary stingray panic aside. Once she stood in front of him, she extended her hand out, just as she had done when they first met. 

"Hi daddy, my name is Chaerim. I'm 5 years old. My favorite color is yellow. I love you." He felt his heart shatter and rebuild from her words alone, perhaps more than once, because how else could he have reacted to such a sweet and rehearsed statement, as if she had prepared her whole life for this very moment. His lip quivered, something (y/n) didn't miss as she slipped away from his lap, hand softly rubbing his back encouragingly. He cleared his throat and wrapped his hand around her offered one, smiling whilst attempting to mask the sheen of tears coating his eyes. 

"Hi sunshine, it's nice to meet you. I'm your dad." After the quaint handshake, she slowly opened her arms out to him. And the minute he brought her into his arms was the moment every last ounce of his tears spilled, whatever was left from his moment with (y/n) now being used as he hugged his daughter knowingly for the first time. (y/n) sat on the sidelines, though only for a minute before Soonyoung was dragging her into the hug with them, the two girls patting his back soothingly as he wept aloud.

Though he wasn't alone, Jihyo crying as well as she texted Seokmin the details, watching the scene from the safety of the doorway. 

Seungcheol was the first of the boys to arrive, just in time to come across the disaster which had transpired before his arrival.

Chaerim had opened her largest gift, the one given to her by her dad. And to (y/n)'s dismay, it was a large and elaborate tunnel system. Although it was soft and foldable, it was still something she couldn't believe Soonyoung would even consider buying considering the state of their apartment. But Chaerim was happy, crawling through the tubed labyrinth, giggles reverberating off the walls. 

Though the mayhem Seungcheol walked in on was mere moments after Soonyoung wanted to try out his gift as well, and now found himself stuck in one of the tubes. Jihyo and (y/n) attempted to yank him out from the outside, while Chaerim continued her incessant giggling, giving up on pushing Soonyoung from within and was now peppering tiny kisses all over his face. 

Luckily, Seungcheol was the one to free the man out of the tunnel, much to the child's dismay, until he handed her his gift: an easel set with a large notepad for a canvas.

She doodled away as the three of them explained the events that had occurred that day, Seungcheol at first shocked at it all, though nodding in understanding soon after. 

"It makes much more sense than Jihoon's assumption that you went out and found a Soonyoung doppelganger, because that girl is a carbon copy of Soonyoung, I swear." 

Jeonghan wasn't surprised in the slightest once he had arrived, only shocked that it took Soonyoung this long to realize that the lactose intolerant little girl with sharp eyes and round cheeks wasn't his child. 

Joshua, Junhui, and Wonwoo only congratulated the two, Jihoon still defending his doppelganger story, saying it could have been true.

Minghao and Mingyu also similarly did not show much reaction to it, somehow far more preoccupied with the little girl playing with them.

Vernon, Seungkwan, and Chan were perhaps the most interested in the circumstances, questioning how she had kept it a secret from them for so long, how they hadn't figured it out on their own, what she was going to do with Soonyoung now. 

"I guess I'll give him a second chance," she responded, hugging his arm and laying her head on his shoulder. Their hands intertwined, and Soonyoung smiled at the familiar warmth that emanated from her touch, seeping into his skin and sending waves of content satisfaction through him. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach and a blush settled over his cheeks, reminding him that that schoolboy crush he had on (y/n) never left, nor would it ever. 

Seokmin had arrived later on, immediately coming over to congratulate the two, as well as quietly apologize to Soonyoung for hiding his daughter from him. 

"You have to understand, man, I meant no harm. We didn't know your intentions. We needed to protect them, you know?" He muttered quietly, looking around the room as if he were dealing with classified information. "I didn't even know until Jihyo was legit scolding me for bringing you over. You gotta believe me, dude."

"I understand, man, I understand," Soonyoung replied, wrapping an arm around Seokmin and mimicking his overly suspicious mannerisms. Though with the secret out and about, he had to admit that he felt significantly closer to his former best friend, glad to know that his daughter has such an amazing godfather. 

The party soon ended and the boys all flooded out of the apartment. Jihyo was the last to leave after helping (y/n) put Chaerim to sleep. 

"Goodnight, you two!" She waved at the two lovers as she shut the door behind her. Soonyoung had also planned to leave, not wanting to overstay his welcome, but (y/n) continued to hold him in a tight hug, refusing to let go. 

"Stay," she insisted. Soonyoung would have laughed at her clinginess, though he heard the hint of fear in her voice, and he immediately understood the clinginess. 

"Okay, baby, I'll stay." Guilt riddled his body the entire way to bed. He had to keep reassuring her he wasn't going anywhere, keeping a hand on her at all times.

He washed her hair for her, letting her hug him while the warm water of the shower fell down their bodies. He helped her get changed, whispering sweet nothings to her the entire process. He held her hand as they got into bed, and once settled, she had immediately clung to him again, limbs tangling together as she buried her face into his shirt. And Soonyoung could only softly shush her, assure her that he's not going anywhere.

His hands combed through her hair, littering kisses on her forehead, muttering his love for her through soft whispers. Seeing the state she was in had a pit of lament settling at the base of his stomach, grimacing at his past misdeeds, remembering the cruel way he left her with nothing more than a final forlorn kiss. 

"I'm sorry," he spoke, hands momentarily stilling in her locks. "I'm so sorry, (y/n). I could apologize every second of every day for the rest of our lives, but it would never amount to how apologetic I truly feel. How much I regret leaving you." He pressed another reassuring kiss on her skin, a shaky intake of air once he separated from her. "I regret it so much. I regret ever doubting our love and I'll never forgive myself for that." He felt her hand splay out on his chest, right over his heart. "(y/n), you're the only thing I live for. You're the only thing in my life that matters." He paused, quickly reconsidering his words before stuttering out his correction. "You and Chaerim, I mean, but…"

He stopped talking as she laughed softly at his words, pulling away from him so she could actually study his face. He was speechless for a second, reminded of a few days ago during their phone call. How he had wished for this exact moment to come to fruition. To hold her in his arms once more, feel her falling asleep in his hold, watch that peaceful state of hers he could only see at night. When she'd enter deep sleep, the tension of the day washing away, her strong persona, her brave facade, all of those pretenses she put up for the world disappearing. And he was the only person she trusted in such a vulnerable state—and he left her. 

"I'm just… I left you. I was so lost and I thought I could find myself. I thought you didn't deserve someone as lost as I was. It just seemed easier to give you up so you wouldn't have to waste your life with a loser like me… I'm sorry." 

Her eyes twinkled under the moonlight, watching Soonyoung as he fumbled over incessant apologies.

When he had gone silent, she shuffled closer to him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his nose. She smiled when it scrunched, and then she pressed a kiss to his cheek. His jaw. His chin. The corner of his mouth. And then finally a kiss to his lips. A sweet, affectionate kiss. Short and simple, but still enough to leave Soonyoung flustered and motionless. 

"Soonyoung, love, I forgive you."

"I know you say that, but… I just feel like it's not enough. It doesn't make up for what I've done to you. I don't–" Another kiss, though this time, one that Soonyoung reciprocates just as fondly as her. 

"You've already apologized to me countless times." At the sight of his confused face, she grinned. "The first day, when Seokmin brought you to me." Soonyoung nodded at this, though he felt he was too emotional to properly convey his feelings. Plus, he mostly made her cry, so it didn't feel like a valid apology to him. "The night you boys went out drinking." 

"What?" Soonyoung furrowed his brows at this, making (y/n) smile. She brushed back his hair comfortingly, nodding her head in confirmation. 

"2 AM, you called me. Drunk out of your mind, crying and babbling to the point that I could barely understand you." Soonyoung winced at this, quietly groaning to himself as he remembered the night at the bar and how fragmented his memory was. "I laid there listening to you pour out your heart to me." He peeked over from where he wallowed in his own self pity, seeing the tenderness in her expression as she admired him wholeheartedly. "You told me about how much you regretted leaving me. How much it hurt you to leave me behind. The pain you endured throughout those 6 years away. You apologized so much that I had to beg you to calm down." At this, he hid himself again, this time burying his face into his pillow with a loud groan. "And then you said you love me." He felt her fingers tracing images on his arm; circles and stars and hearts. "You said you never stopped loving me. That I was the love of your life, and you'd forever mourn losing me. You probably said I love you just as many times as you apologized, until I myself was crying.

"And then you said… that even if Chaerim wasn't yours, you'd love her as if she were." He peeked out from his pillow to where a bittersweet smile greeted him. "That you love her like you love me. And you wished you had a family like ours. You said we were your happiness. Your dream life that you had always wanted." He pouts at this, realizing his drunk self was probably more articulate than he could ever be when sober. She lifted the arm she had drawn invisible patterns into, nestling herself against him before resting his limb over her.

"And the third time was as I was falling asleep." She had rested her head on his heart again, humming at the soothing rhythm it emanated. "I thought I was dreaming. Hearing the love of my life say such sweet words to me. Such a blissful moment." She sighed dreamily, squeezing his waist in a small hug. "I only realized it was real when I heard my phone beep, indicating you hung up." 

"I'm so sorry, my love, I didn't mean to wake you," he fussed, but she only shushed him. 

"No more apologies." Another kiss to his lips had him going silent, nodding along to her words. With another laugh his way, she curled up against him once more, cozying up in the warmth of her soulmate for the first time in six years. "So yes, I forgive you. I really do." 

"Thank you, (y/n)." She pressed one last kiss on his chest, one right above his heart. Like magic, he felt the wounds which have tormented him for years to come slowly but surely heal, tending to itself as she nurtured his love once more. A sigh of relief puffed out of his lips, one tear slipping from his eye as he savored the exhilarating serenity of the moment. Of being with his beloved again. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

(a/n): welcome to the end of this. if you made it, congratulations! thank you for reading my stuff! i appreciate it greatly! i didn't expect for this to be as big as it wound up being. as of right now, it is the longest fic i have published. im happy with how it came out though. hopefully i have more stories planned for the future! thanks for reading!

[ashtxrie]

bf instagram stories with... jeongin!

i love jeongin he's so cutie ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ 

[miumura]

SOULMATE UNDERCOVER ⌕ TAESAN SMAU

012 — no one batted an eyelash

🗒️ NOTE — it’s about time they know the truth 😊

previous — next — masterlist

› SOULMATE UNDERCOVER TL ( OPEN ) ──── @haruharua @en-dream @nekotoni @nicholasluvbot @asteroidzs @kazukazukiiii @hollxe1 @niinaskrr @mochamvgz @koocreampie @onlyjungchan @ijustwannareadstuff20 @amarecerasus @banez @kekaekeke @jungwonbropls @uncasings @yoonzns @winteringdream @8makes1atom @heeheesang @liyaliar @jmclouds @eunandonly @stantxtforabetterlife @zclread @yuyita-rosier @enzstr @lov3lyaaru @hyunjinslongasslegs @nujeskz @starfallia @sfnctzen @raccooniniii @jvngw0nlvr @yvesrama @socollectionmoom @bbyinni @milktea-academia @letwiiparkjay @xngelsthesis @silv3rst0ne @astrae4 @prodkwh @anqelkoz @minisodelover @kaixlix @renisprobablyonthetoilet @w3willris3 @eternallyhyucks

[bywons]

JUST MARRIED 、 psh

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬────𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄 𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗍, 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎

❪ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝒾𝐒 ❫ ｡ 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗉𝗌𝗁 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 1OO3wc 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ──𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 drinking 贅沢 ／ 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐄

★REBLOGPLEASE

“baby, please please,” sunghoon mumbles gibberish as he struggles to stand still, “it’s such a good idea, just hear me out!”

under the heavy influence of alcohol and the aftermath of some questionable yet impressive breakdancing at your friend’s wedding, sunghoon now stands flushed and breathless—face red, tie askew, a few shirt buttons undone. his tuxedo is bundled in your arms, and his hands are on your shoulders, trying to stabilize himself.

“we n-need to get married and—” hiccup “and, and m-move in—” hiccup “—will- will be the best hubby f-for you” hiccup

sunghoon grips your shoulders tighter, his weight tipping dangerously forward every time he leans in, eyes half-lidded with determination and booze-fueled affection. his lips purse in slow motion, aiming clumsily for yours.

you push a hand firmly against his chest. “nope. not happening.”

“my wife,” he whines, stumbling back a few steps on the empty road in front of the event, before striding towards you again, “you hurt me, i r-really need you!”

“sunghoon, the cab will be here any minute—”

you couldn’t even finish your sentence as sunghoon slumps his whole body weight over you, gathering you into a bear hug.

somehow, you manage to create a fair space between the two of you. pressing your hands on his chest, you try to push back as sunghoon wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulders.

“i love you,” he barely makes coherent sentences, snuggling his face at the crook of your neck, his lips gently pressing against it, “please marry me. we could elope. vegas. tomorrow.”

you laugh, something between blushing, humour and your heart swelling up to his words. you muster all your strength and push him until he’s just one arm away.

“i swear to god,” you sigh, trying to pry him off as his tux almost slips away from your hold, “you will wake up with zero memory tomorrow morning.”

“i don’t need memory,” sunghoon pouts again, chuckling out loud as he comes closer to you again, stumbling and swaying in his steps as he cups your face, “my body knows, my lips .. know.”

before you can say anything, he leans in and connects his lips with yours in the sloppiest, neediest kiss ever.

your brain short circuits.

his mouth is warm and clumsy, moving with unplanned precision against yours than he usually has— this is all desperation and tipsy affection. he hiccups once, twice into the kiss, chuckling before reconnecting his lips with yours. you feel your knees becoming weaker.

you try to push him away but he only leans in even more, humming into the kiss like he has been craving this all night. he slides his hand up your back, pressing you impossibly close to him, both his hands anchoring to your body.

he pulls back just a little, lips brushing yours, eyes fluttering. “you taste like forever,” he whispers, so seriously that your chest tightens despite the absurdity.

“sunghoon, there are still people here—” you gasp, pulling him back by his raven hair. he winces as the pull softly, but refuses to let you go.

“there’s no one here but us and destiny,” he breathes, and kisses you again before you can even roll your eyes.

this time the kiss is slower, softer, he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, his hands soon finding your cheeks. although he reeked of alcohol still, you couldn’t shake him away. you gasp softly as he tilts his head, deepening it—his mouth opening against yours with such yearning, you nearly forget where you are. his lips trail down to your jaw for a second, then back up, brushing teasingly slow before capturing your bottom lip again with a sigh.

“sunghoon,” you whisper against him, dizzy, drunk in love as well. but sunghoon only hums against your lips, and kisses them soft. slow. longer and lingering, blushing like he’s kissing for the first time.

“enough now,” you pant for breath as he pulls away, hitting his chest, “we have to go— what are you doing?”

sunghoon suddenly drops down on his knees. like, actually drops, hard, on the pavement outside the wedding venue with flickering lights still on.

you gape, “oh my god, ‘hoon! get up, you’re ruining your pants!”

“no!” he shouts, well, slurs incoherently while his arms wrap around your waist, “this is it. i have waited for this and i will say it.”

“get up—”

“y/n,” he cuts you off, dramatically clutching at his chest like he’s been shot. “i am so, so in love with you. like there is nothing in this world i wouldn’t do for you and—”

“oh my god.”

he takes a deep breath, then grabs your hand in both of his, pressing it to his heart. “marry me,” he says, eyes shiny with sincerity and tequila. “please. i’ll be so good. i’ll do the dishes. i’ll learn to cook. i’ll stop trying to do flips at weddings. probably.”

“you’re so drunk,” you try to lean in, eyes pricking with tears of both laughter and yearning.

“but I’m serious,” he insists, eyes locking onto yours like they’re the only steady thing in his spinning world. “i want to marry you. tonight. tomorrow. whenever. just—say yes. please, baby, please.”

“sunghoon, baby,” you sigh, controlling your chuckle as you start to caress his neck and face, “get up.”

“if i—” hiccup “get up, will you marry me?” sunghoon pouts.

“yes!” you almost shout, a little laughter escaping you. your heart aches, he is a total mess, drunk to the nose, shit crumples and knees dirty from the pavement as he stands up. but through all of that, you know he means all of it.

“okay,” sunghoon straightens his back, holding your hands, “we are married now. can i kiss my bride?”

you almost cry, tugging softly at his hands, “yes.”

he doesn’t waste no time, immediately capturing your lips in his, pulling you impossibly close again. hands resting on your cheeks, sunghoon truly loves you.

스루 ܃ never lower your standards, if your man doesn’t get on his knees for you, boy next 😹

© bywons, 2025 div ctto —taglist open ! nets. @/k-labels @kflixnet @k-films

[sarcasticsweetlara]

Love it

❥ Softcore

genre -> fluff, slight angst

pairing -> svt seungkwan x reader

warnings -> pregnancy in the first one, talk of a c section in the first one, Seungkwan is drunk in the second

word count -> 0.4k

summary -> types of kisses with seungkwan

[The One Where He Gives You A Kiss On Your Scar]

Seungkwan could see that you were feeling insecure. The way you stared at yourself in the mirror told him everything. He snuck up behind you and pulled you into a back hug. “You’re perfect my love.” You appreciated the words however, you just didn’t feel like it. “Thank you honey.” You could feel Seungkwan frown against your shoulder. His mind raced with different things to do that might help get your confidence up. He finally came up with and idea. “Can I give you a kiss lovely?” Seungkwan knew you couldn’t resist his kisses. Nodding, you close your eyes and expect one against your cheek or your lips. You didn’t expect him to go to where your c-section scar was and give it a peck. “What are you doing Kwan?” “Gotta show you how perfect you are,” he breathes out, “even if it means giving you love in places that you don’t expect.”

[When You Kiss Him So He Won’t Blurt Out An Embarrassing Secret]

Pulling up to the bar, you could hear the loud music blasting inside. Walking in, you easily spotted the Seventeen members. You could see that Seungkwan’s eyes lit up when they landed on you. “Baby! You’re here! Are you real?” His voice made your heart beat faster even though you’ve been together for years. “I’m here honey, how much have you had to drink?” “Not that many, though I almost said something about the one time where you,” your eyes widen when you hear what he almost told the boys. Thinking fast, you did the first thing you thought of. Seungkwan’s voice is cut off by the small kiss you give him and the warmth of your hands on this face. The other twelve you can hear wolf whistle as the show of affection. Pulling away, it was obvious Seungkwan was lovesick. His pupils practically had hearts in them. “What was I saying? I got distracted.” The drunken tone mixed with the lovesick one made you laugh. “Nothing honey, just remind me to never let you know anymore embarrassing secrets.”

[The One Where He Gives You Kisses On The Neck To Hear You Giggle]

If you asked Seungkwan what his favorite sound was, he would confidently answer with ‘their laugh’. He could listen to it for days without getting tired of it. He even tried to get Woozi to put it in a song and ended up with a harsh no. So when he finds out a easy way to get you to laugh, it becomes his favorite action. When he figured out that giving a simple kiss on your neck made you laugh like no other, he quickly made it apart of his everyday routine. He thought you didn’t know about it, hoping that you just thought it was something new that he liked. You would never tell him that your neck wasn’t ticklish at all, you just adored seeing him smile in victory at the sound of your laugh.

©️ Tzuyuluvs | Do not copy, translate or blatantly steal my content.

[fairyhaos]

◇ the way you make me feel // choi seungcheol

seungcheol x gn!reader, 2.6k+ words

tags: requested by anon, established relationship, fluff, mild angst, seungcheol is sooo down bad oh lawwd

warnings: pet names, 1 vvv mild curse word ig?? (ass)

notes: any fic where i get to write besotted cheol is a great fic! might be slightly ooc but oh well. who cares. ty anon for this request <3

“I'm going to be very honest, honey… this feels like a sleeping arrangement for a couple that's just had an argument.”

You laugh a little at the mild pout on your boyfriend's face as he stares contemplatively at the bed after you've suggested a rather… interesting sleep method that he's never really heard of before. 

“It's really not,” you assure him. “Other couples do this all the time! And I thought it would be fun to try out too.”

Your boyfriend, Seungcheol, blinks at the bed before looking over at you, mystified. 

“Really? People want to do this?”

“Yes, Cheol.”

“Hm.” Seungcheol frowns. “What did you say this was called again?”

“The Scandinavian Sleep Method,” you say cheerfully, hopping over to the drawers with all the different duvets and duvet covers that you and your boyfriend have collected over the years you've been living together. “Isn't it such a great idea? We sleep in the same bed, but we each have a different duvet so we get better sleep but still get to be next to each other.”

You begin pulling out different duvets, inspecting them and continuing to chatter as you do so. 

“I know how much you love weighted blankets, but you know they're not something I'm a big fan of,” you say. “And you really hate my fluffy covers, for some reason. But if we sleep this way, then both of us can sleep happily without causing disturbance to the other's sleep quality!”

With a flourish, you turn back round to Seungcheol, the offending weighted blanket and fluffy cover in your hands, as if emphasising your point. There's a bright beam on your face, evidently eager to try out this new idea, but Seungcheol? 

He's still looking a bit hesitant. 

Which, understandable. You're introducing a new sleeping arrangement three years after you've been quite happily living together. Anyone would find that weird. 

“If we don't like it, we can switch back,” you assure him. You shrug. “It's just a trend I saw online, Cheol. I thought it would be cool.”

Seungcheol pauses, and then smiles, nodding once. “Fine, fine. Let's try out, then. We'll see if the Scandinavians actually sleep well.”

You cheer, dropping the bedding and skipping across the room to launch yourself into Seungcheol’s arms. He catches you easily, laughing as he does so, amused at how delighted you are by his acceptance. 

“Yes! I love you. Now I get to make the bed all aesthetic with different layered sheets!”

Seungcheol laughs again. “All right, sweetheart. Tell me if you need more sheets to fit in with your vision, okay? I'll buy you whatever you need.”

“Oh my god, suddenly I love you even more.”

───────────── 🗝

Admittedly, Seungcheol does love hearing you say that you, the absolute love of his life, love him (and any self-respecting boyfriend would feel the same), but he's wondering if this entire thing is really, really all that worth it. 

Because, well. 

Seungcheol hates the Scandinavian Sleep Method. 

He harbours no hatred towards the Scandinavians themselves, of course, but their sleep method, for him, well and truly sucks. 

Of course, he can understand why people like it. There are aspects he doesn't mind, too: such as how it's currently way less likely for him to wake up at 4am with a cold ass because you've stolen half the covers from him again. Or how he doesn't have to worry about the fluffy, fuzzy feeling of your sheets pressing creepily soft kisses against his ankles. Or how he can now actually sleep peacefully without finding that he's been suffocated by your weight on his chest because now, you actually sleep on your side of the bed. 

Nevertheless, he hates this. 

Unfortunately, he can't bring himself to say anything about this, because—

“I seriously think my quality of sleep has improved so much,” you say to Seungcheol one Sunday morning, beaming over your cup of coffee as he makes breakfast waffles for you. “The Scandinavians really know what they're talking about, huh?”

And your eyes are bright, sparkling as you say this, so full of life even though it's nine in the morning on a Sunday. 

So Seungcheol smiles back, happy purely because you're happy, even though if you really pressed him, he'd admit that he's not really happy at all. 

“I guess they do,” he says, turning back to the waffles. “Do you want honey with the waffles? Or the new maple syrup I bought you?”

“Ooh, maple syrup, please!”

And then Seungcheol had done all sorts of fancy tricks with the bottle of maple syrup, and you had clapped your hands and laughed, delighted, and Seungcheol felt a little better, the weight of his guilt that he didn't share your opinion beginning to lighten. 

There's no real big reason why he hates this sleeping arrangement. Sure, it stops all your bad sleeping habits, but, truthfully, he… misses all those things. 

He misses waking up to you all huddled up in the blankets, looking all small and adorable whilst swathed in the thick fabric. He misses cuddling you close and entangling his legs with yours in order to escape from the weird fluffy texture of your sheets. He misses feeling the comforting weight of you asleep against his chest, warm and secure like the physical manifestation of his soul, safely tucked against his side. 

Now, you simply smile at him, face shiny and soft from your skincare routine, and give him a peck on the cheek goodnight before snuggling under your duvet, away from him, in your own little bubble of comfort. 

Without him. 

It makes him feel like an abandoned dog left in the rain outside of his owner's home. 

Excuse him for being dramatic, but he's literally slept with you curled up in his arms for a very, very long time now. And these days, now that you're no longer with him and are miles away on the other half of the bed, he can't fall asleep by himself. 

Withdrawal symptoms from cuddling must be a thing, because he's going through them right now. 

“Just talk about how you feel, then,” is what any sane person would say about this matter, which is very good, very sound, advice. 

However, it's also what Joshua says to Seungcheol when he complains to him about the new sleeping arrangement, and everyone knows Joshua is the least sane person in existence, so Seungcheol decides to ignore his advice. 

Joshua rolls his eyes, used to but not pleased by Seungcheol's stubbornness. 

“You're being silly,” he says, when Seungcheol vetoes his suggestion. “This is obviously impacting your sleep quality in a negative way, which is the exact opposite of what Y/N was hoping for.”

“But Y/N seems to be sleeping better,” Seungcheol argues. He rubs his eyes, and the world spins a little as he does so. “So I probably shouldn't say anything, right?”

“No, you should say something,” Joshua says firmly. “What do you think Y/N will do when it becomes obvious that this new arrangement is actively harming you, and yet you didn't say anything? Hell, if I found out my boyfriend wasn't telling me that kind of stuff, I'd get really mad.”

Seungcheol frowns. “What? Why?”

“Because you're my boyfriend?” Joshua says. “Uh—not actually mine, obviously. But that's how Y/N would feel. You need to communicate your feelings. That's what couples do.”

Joshua takes a sip of his tea, spinning around in Seungcheol's desk chair in his study whilst Seungcheol, the owner of the chair, is currently exiled to the small wooden stool beside it. 

“Just think about how you'd feel if you were in Y/N's shoes. How would you feel if your partner wasn't telling you that they're sleeping badly and feeling increasingly more terrible throughout the weeks because of something that could be easily fixed by them talking it out with you?”

And oh, now Seungcheol understands. Now it makes more sense. He'd want you to communicate your feelings immediately. 

Joshua must see the revelation on Seungcheol's face, because he snorts smugly. “I knew you'd get there in the end.”

“Shut up,” Seungcheol grumbles, and Joshua mocks him for how ridiculously macho-man he was being before. “I'll talk to Y/N about this tonight.”

“Well done,” Joshua says amusedly, spinning around in Seungcheol's chair so fast that its joints, even as expensive and well-oiled as they are, begin to groan in surprise. “I'm so proud of you.” 

 “Shut up,” Seungcheol says again, and Joshua laughs. “And get off my chair.”

“Hmph! You're so mean. I bought this chair for you, you know.”

“No, you didn't.”

“No, I didn't. But you believed me for a second, didn't you?”

“Definitely not. Now get out of my house before Y/N gets home.”

───────────── 🗝

It's one of those very, very rare days where you finish work later than Seungcheol, and so when you unlock the front door and finally make it inside, you're more than ready to just fall into your boyfriend's arms. 

Except, the entire ground floor of your house is dark when you get home.

“Where is he?” you say to yourself, mystified. “Cheol? Where are you?”

“In our room!” he calls back from upstairs, and you take off your coat and shoes, dumping your bag by the doorway and bounding up the stairs two at a time to get to your boyfriend. 

“Seungcheol! Why were the hallway lights off? Have you eaten dinner yet? What's— wait, what are you doing?”

In the middle of your bed, right over where the two halves of your bedding meet, Seungcheol is sprawled out in an upside down starfish shape, staring up at you balefully as you walk into the room, and you laugh a little at the state your boyfriend is in. 

“Hello,” you say amusedly. “You look like you're sulking.”

Seungcheol just continues to blink up at you like a displeased cat. 

You laugh again, bending down and kissing him on the forehead. “Definitely sulking, I see. What's wrong, baby? What happened?”

There's a long moment where Seungcheol doesn't say anything, and you continue to smile down at him, petting his hair fondly. And then, he frowns, and speaks. 

“What do you think of our bed?”

You look over at the head of the bed, scanning it briefly. “I think it looks fine.”

It's apparently the wrong thing to say, because Seungcheol frowns harder. 

“Why? Do you not like it?”

“I don't like it,” Seungcheol says, and sits up, turning around to face you. “I don't like this sleeping arrangement.”

You tilt your head. “Oh? I thought you didn't mind the Scandinavian Sleep Method.”

Seungcheol sighs. “I lied,” he admits. “I actually hate it so much. It's the worst thing in the entire world.”

Your face softens in worry, feeling something thick and bitter rising to your throat at the idea that you've been forcing Seungcheol to go through with something he hates. 

“I'm sorry,” you say sincerely, sitting down beside him on the bed. “I didn't realise. You should've said something, Cheol. I would've changed back in an instant.”

Seungcheol, for how big and manly and good at acting as your guard dog he is, still always melts under your touch, and the moment you wrap your arms around his neck, he softens into your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. 

“Would you really?” he asks, muffled into your blazer, and you belatedly realise that you're still in your work clothes. You haven't even washed your hands. 

“Of course I would,” you say in your best don't be silly voice. “I don't want you to be feeling bad.”

His hands wrap around your waist, warm and comforting and he pulls you in closer, hugging you even tighter. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I feel like I'm being stupid. This isn't even anything big. It just… makes me feel really terrible, and I don't know why.”

“Hey, that's totally okay,” you say placatingly, threading your fingers through his hair and patting him consolingly on the back. “I told you we didn't have to carry on with this, baby. I said we could switch back whenever we wanted to.”

He squeezes you tighter, arms wrapping more securely around you. “I still feel bad. You liked this sleeping method.”

You laugh softly, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Yes, but not as much as I like you.”

If possible, he seems to melt even further into you at those words, and you smile, adoring how clearly he adores you. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” you say affectionately, kissing Seungcheol's ear before untangling yourself from his embrace. “Let's start remaking the bed then, hm?”

You pull away from his arms, and Seungcheol is staring at you with big eyes, irises all melty soft. And then he nods, smiling slightly, looking like a pleased puppy as he gets off the bed and begins helping you take the covers off the duvets. 

───────────── 🗝

It's unusual for Seungcheol to be so shy like this—normally, he's the one telling you to be more outspoken, more confident, so it's a nice change. You quite like being able to reassure him, gently tell him what to do, praise him and shower him with love in the way that he always does with you. 

“So why did you hate the Scandinavian Sleep Method?” you ask him a bit later as the two of you sit in front of the washing machine, watching it spin your bedding round and round. Seungcheol had insisted that you wash all of it right away, because otherwise the two of you were bound to put it off for a whole month. 

Your boyfriend shrugs. He watches the bedding get spun in circles again and again and again. 

And then, he finally looks at you, clad in your classic two-piece cotton pyjamas, hair all a mess, your face softened and natural now that you've washed up for the night, all ready to go to bed. 

You look so pretty like this, so open and comforting and god, Seungcheol had missed you. 

Even though he sees you every day. But that's whatever. He's missed being this close with you at night, in this kind of domestic setting, where it's just the two of you pressed close together in your house as the rest of the world sleeps. 

“That sleeping arrangement…” he begins quietly, and you look up. 

“Hm?”

Seungcheol holds your gaze very seriously as he continues. “It didn't let me hug you.”

You blink. “What?”

“It didn't let me hug you,” he repeats, as serious as ever, and you want to laugh in fondness because it really is that serious for him. “I couldn't cuddle you to sleep. I hated that.”

“Oh,” you say, positively melting away at his reason, so unbelievably in love with him that your heart is goo in your chest. “That's so sweet, Cheol, oh my god.”

You lean over and pinch his cheek, cooing over him, and he bats your hand away with a groan, smiling. 

“Go away,” he grumbles, but it's so full of warmth that the words carry no weight whatsoever.

“But then you can't cuddle me in your sleep,” you say, pouting exaggeratedly. “Unless… you don't wanna cuddle me any more?” 

You gasp dramatically, leaning away from him for full effect, and then yelp when he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his side, preventing you from moving away. 

“Don't say silly things like that,” he reprimands teasingly, laughter tinging the ends of his words. He kisses your shoulder. “Of course I want to cuddle you. It's the only thing I'll be doing every night from now on.”

“That's awfully cheesy,” you point out. “Sap.”

“It's all your fault.”

“Huh, I suppose it is,” you say proudly, snuggling into your boyfriend. “Glad to know I have such an effect on you.”

Seungcheol sighs, fond, and kisses your shoulder once again. “Oh, if only you knew.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa  @weird-bookworm  @minhui896  @slytherinshua  @haowrld  @belladaises  @moonlitskiiies  @mirxzii  @zozojella  @kawennote09  @a-wandering-stay  @abibliolife  @wonranghaeee  @icyminghao  @sweet-like-caramel  @your-yxnnie  @odxrilove  @kyeomyun  @crackedpumpkin  @kellesvt  @eightlightstar  @onlyyjeonghan  @aaniag  @starshuas  @raevyng  @isabellah29  @hrts4hanniehae  @mcu-incorrect  @dokyeomkyeom  @suraandsugar  @tulsa24  @melodicrabbit  @dokyeomkyeom  @hopeless-foolery @aaa-sia

[svtiddiess]

Please, Officer?

Synopsis: One reckless, tipsy night lands you right where you least expected—wrapped in the arms of a cop. And not just any cop: a total DILF. Now you're determined to get him to fuck you seven different ways, no matter what it takes. A little flirting? A lot of teasing? You're prepared to use every card in your hand to get into his bed.

Pairing: dilf!officer!Seungcheol (SVT) x afab!reader

Genre: smut, crack, oneshot

Rating: mature/nsfw

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: age gap, penetrative sex, protected sex (we cheered!), oral (fem receiving), squirting, daddy kink, size kink, manhandling, bondage, handcuffs, makeshift gag, big dick!Seungcheol, dom!Seungcheol, sub!brat!reader, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: DILF Officer Cheol. DILF Officer Cheol. DILF Officer Cheol. DILF Officer Cheol.

Thank you so much Raven @shadowkoo for the delicious banner! Thank you A @chugging-antiseptic-dye for helping me with the synopsis! Thank you Tiya @gyubakeries, Serena @gotta-winwin, Sam @joonsytip, Celeste @mylovesstuffs, and Cherry @cheolaholic for betaing and screaming about DILF officer Cheol with me!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read part 2 here!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Fuck. Maybe three bottles of soju was a mistake, after all.

You think this as you do your best to stumble your way home, your legs barely cooperating. It'd been a very long week at work, and in a moment of desperation, you decided to drown your stress at a bar—three whole bottles deep.

Now, here you are, wobbling down the street, regretting your choices just a little as you trip over your own feet. You brace yourself for impact, arms outstretched, eyes squeezed shut—except the pavement never comes. Instead, a strong arm catches you, stopping your face from making an unfortunate acquaintance with the ground.

Blinking, you look up at your unexpected saviour, and your jaw drops. He's gorgeous—broad shoulders, lean muscle, black hair that falls perfectly around his face, and the most mesmerising deep brown eyes you've ever seen. His lips, full and just pouty enough, look criminally kissable. Maybe the soju wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" he asks, voice rich and laced with concern.

Oh, shit, he sounds hot too.

"Ma'am?" he prompts again, helping you to your feet.

You sway, the alcohol making it nearly impossible to stand on your own. Without hesitation, the handsome stranger wraps an arm around your shoulders to steady you. But instead of pulling away, you lean in, resting your face against his firm chest.

"I'm doing so much better now that you're here," you purr, a lazy grin on your lips.

He looks down at you, clearly unsure what to do with the drunk girl clinging to him. He tries to pry you off gently, but you refuse to budge, deciding his chest is far too comfortable to let go of just yet.

"Are you able to get home?" he asks, still subtly trying to create some distance.

"I think I'd rather get in your pants," you smirk.

His ears turn pink as he clears his throat. "I could help you get a taxi, ma'am."

"Ugh, stop calling me that! My name's Y/N," you whine.

"Alright, Miss Y/N," he sighs, and you swear your heart skips a beat at how your name rolls off his tongue. "Let's get you a taxi. You're definitely not making it home on your own."

"I don't want a taxi," you huff, tightening your grip around his waist.

He hesitates, caught off guard, then exhales slowly. "What do you want then?"

Grinning, you tilt your head up at him. "I'd rather have your dick."

He blinks at you, processing, before sighing yet again. "Where do you live?"

"My, so forward of you, mister," you tease, trailing a finger down his chest. "But luckily for you, I like forward men."

"I’m sending you home, Miss Y/N," he deadpans.

"And then fucking me, right?" you beam.

He ignores that. "Can you walk?"

"Nope. You're gonna have to carry me," you declare, pouting up at him.

Another sigh. "Alright. Get on my back—I'll carry you to my car."

Giggling, you eagerly hop onto his back, wrapping your arms around his neck. His grip is firm yet respectful, his hands carefully placed over your dress rather than your bare thighs.

You swing your legs playfully as he walks, feeling like a carefree child. But when you spot his car—a sleek black Bentley—your jaw drops all over again.

Oh damn. He's rich rich. It just makes you want to fuck him even more.

The two of you finally make it to your apartment building with you spending the entire drive shamelessly flirting. He, on the other hand, politely declines every one of your advances, much to your disappointment.

He carries you up to your apartment and once you reach your door, he gently sets you down, and you immediately whine at the loss of his warmth. He prompts you to enter your door code, but you decide to play coy, pretending you're too drunk to press the buttons.

He sighs—he's been doing that a lot tonight—before unlocking the door himself after you lazily mumble the code.

As you stumble inside, gravity betrays you once again, and he's forced to catch you by the shoulders before your face meets the floor. You giggle, pressing yourself against him. Looking up at him, eyes dark with mischief, you trail a finger down his chest.

"Why don't you stay the night, handsome?" you purr. "I'll make sure to reward you for all your hard work."

His response? Peeling you off of him and unceremoniously dumping you onto your couch.

"Good night, Miss Y/N," he says curtly before turning on his heel and walking out.

You pout, watching the man of your dreams disappear out of your apartment. With a dramatic sigh, you flop back onto the couch, the exhaustion—and alcohol—finally catching up to you. Within moments, you're asleep, dreaming of the hot stranger who just slipped through your fingers.

The weekend rolls around again after a long, exhausting week, and like always, you find yourself at the bar, drowning your stress one drink at a time. You're about to grab another cosmopolitan when your eyes land on someone at the other end of the room.

Oh. It's him. The handsome stranger.

You don't remember much from that night, but his face—and that body—are burned into your memory. And damn, does he look just as good now. Messy hair framed his sharp features. A black shirt fitting him just right, sleeves cuffed to reveal strong forearms. You'd take him right then and there if he told you to; no hesitation.

You take a slow sip of your drink, letting the liquid courage settle, then saunter your way over to him.

You slide onto the stool beside him, resting your elbow on the table as a smirk tugs at your lips. "Fancy seeing you here, handsome."

He turns, clearly caught off guard by your presence. "Miss Y/N? Well, this is a surprise," he says, eyebrows lifting slightly.

"Enough with the Miss," you say, rolling your eyes. "Just call me Y/N. Or yours, if you prefer."

You shoot him a wink, and to your delight, he chuckles.

"I think I'll stick with Y/N," he says, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Undeterred, you scoot closer, your chest brushing against his bicep as you trail a finger down his arm. "So, what's your name? Or should I just call you mine?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Didn't you already try that pickup line?"

"Nothing wrong with shooting your shot twice," you smirk.

He lets out a low chuckle. "You can call me Seungcheol, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. Your heart stutters at the way it rolls off his tongue.

"So, Seungcheol," you say, savouring his name as you take another sip of your drink, "what brings you here?"

"Same thing as you." He shrugs, mirroring your movements.

"Drowning your stress in alcohol, then?" you grin.

"If that's what you're doing, sure," he chuckles.

You hum, leaning in until your lips are dangerously close to his ear. "You look lonely. Let me fix that."

He tilts his head back with a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair. Your gaze immediately drops to his neck, and god, do you want to mark that beautiful skin with your teeth.

"So, what do you say, Cheollie?" you purr.

He shakes his head, amused. "Stop, sweetheart, I'm way too old for you. I have a son around your age."

You frown. "Shit, you're married?"

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Nope, it's been three years since I got a divorce."

A smile returns to your face again, and your desire for him skyrockets. Not only is he hot—he's a hot DILF? You absolutely need to get into this man's pants.

"It's a good thing I like older men then, daddy," you murmur, watching closely as his eyes darken for a split second.

He exhales sharply, shaking his head. "You'll end up regretting this later."

"The only thing I'll regret," you huff, "is not being fucked by you right now."

Seungcheol snorts, rolling his eyes, but there's something almost fond in his expression.

The night goes on with you getting drunker and even bolder, your flirting growing more ridiculous by the minute. Eventually, you're on the verge of blacking out, slurring nonsense as you try (and fail) to order another drink. Seungcheol promptly stops you, which earns him a half-hearted glare, but you're too far gone to put up a real fight.

Once again, he ends up taking you home—good thing he already knows your address and door code. And, just like last time, he deposits you onto your couch, and just like last time, you try to convince him to stay.

But, once again, he only sighs, tells you good night, and walks out.

You pout as you watch the man of your dreams disappear from your apartment yet again.

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips as you tighten your grip on the steering wheel. This is your first time getting pulled over, and you’re not even sure what you did wrong—you definitely weren’t going way over the speed limit. Definitely not.

A knock on your window pulls you from your thoughts. You take a deep breath before rolling it down, your frown instantly flipping into a grin the moment you see him.

Seungcheol.

Not only is he a hot DILF, but he's a cop too? Oh, things just keep getting better and better.

"Fancy meeting you here, Cheollie," you purr, batting your lashes. "I didn't know you were an officer."

"It's because you were too busy trying to get into my pants instead of getting to know me," he says, raising an eyebrow.

"And just so we're clear," you grin, leaning in slightly, "I still want to get into your pants."

"You know, officer,” you tease, resting your chin on your hand, "it must be fate that we keep running into each other. Maybe it's a sign that you should just give in and fuck me already."

Seungcheol exhales sharply, clearly unimpressed. "Do you know why I pulled you over?"

"Because you have an overwhelming desire to bend me over and fill me up?" you say sweetly.

"...You were speeding," he deadpans.

"Speeding into your heart," you wink.

He blinks at you. "License and registration."

"Oh no, officer, are you going to arrest me?" you pout, feigning innocence.

"No, but I am going to give you a ticket for speeding," he sighs, rubbing his temples.

"Please don't arrest me, officer," you whine. "I'll be a good girl, I promise." Then, lowering your voice, you add, "Unless you don't want me to be."

Seungcheol's jaw tightens, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he visibly struggles to keep his composure.

Finally, he exhales. "Look, I'll let you off with a warning. Just—don't do it again," he mutters before turning on his heel.

As he walks away, your eyes immediately drop to his ass—round, firm, and criminally good-looking in those tight uniform jeans.

"Damn, that ass is fine!" you call out.

Seungcheol stiffens before hurriedly covering his backside with his hands, speed-walking to his car without looking back.

You giggle, rolling up your window as you bite your lip.

You've decided. You will get into bed with this man—no matter what.

You scan the bar expectantly, swirling your drink as you glance around. This is the third week in a row you've come here, hoping to run into Seungcheol again. You met him here once—surely, fate will work its magic and bring him back, right?

With a sigh, you take another sip, deciding to call it a night once you finish your drink. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you spot him. Your head snaps around, and a grin spreads across your face the moment you confirm it’s really him.

There he is, leaning back in the corner of the room, wearing a perfectly fitted white tee with the sleeves casually cuffed, and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. He looks absolutely delicious.

Giggling, you make your way over to him.

"Oh my, officer," you purr, sliding into the seat next to him. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Seungcheol doesn't look the least bit surprised. If anything, he looks amused. "Are you stalking me, Miss Y/N?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe," you reply, biting your lip.

He lets out a deep chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

"You know I could have you arrested for that, right?" he teases, tilting his head.

"Arrest me, but make it sexy, daddy," you murmur, leaning in.

His tongue flicks over his lips as he studies you, his gaze flickering with something unreadable before he shakes his head and takes another sip of his drink.

Frustrated, you grab the collar of his shirt and tug him closer—so close your noses almost touch.

"Just give me one chance, officer," you whisper, your breath ghosting over his lips. "I'll make sure to give you a night you'll never forget."

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich. "I don't think you can handle me, sweetheart," he smirks.

"I don't think you can handle me, daddy," you shoot back, eyes glinting with mischief.

Seungcheol lets out another laugh, but this time, he leans in even closer, his lips hovering just over yours.

"You wanna prove yourself?" he murmurs, voice low and teasing. "Fine."

Before you can process his words, he suddenly stands and, without warning, scoops you up into his arms.

A surprised squeal leaves your lips as he carries you effortlessly, like you weigh nothing at all. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck, grinning from ear to ear.

He carries you outside and places you in his car, shutting the door behind you. The moment he gets in, your hands immediately fly to his lap, but he catches them before they can wander any further, pinning them down onto your thighs.

"Behave," he growls.

The way his voice drops sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but bite your lip, thighs squeezing together. You decide—just this once—to be a good girl and keep your hands to yourself.

The same can't be said for Seungcheol.

His hand finds your thigh midway through the drive, drawing slow, deliberate circles against your skin, his fingers teasing but never wandering too far. It's torture. Absolute, delicious torture.

By the time you arrive at his place, you're practically vibrating with anticipation.

And then he carries you again—princess style—up to his apartment.

The moment he steps inside, your jaw nearly drops. Calling this place an apartment would be an insult. No, this is a penthouse. High ceilings, sleek modern decor, floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the glittering cityscape—everything screams luxury.

You knew he was rich. But this? This is on another level.

He carries you straight to the bedroom and drops you onto the bed, the mattress bouncing beneath you as you let out a breathless giggle. The second you settle, his lips crash into yours, hungry and demanding. You moan into the kiss, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging just hard enough to pull a low groan from his throat. He dominates the kiss, and you let him—surrendering to his control. His rough hands slide up your torso, calloused palms skimming your body before settling on your chest, squeezing just right—drawing a whimper from your lips.

He breaks the kiss, breath ragged, and tugs impatiently at your shirt and skirt.

"Off," he growls.

You laugh, teasing as you peel off each piece, giving him a slow, deliberate show. His gaze darkens, raking over your body, still clad in nothing but your bra and panties.

"These too," he commands, fingers hooking into the delicate fabric before letting it snap back against your skin.

You pout, biting back a smirk. "I don’t know how…guess you'll have to do it for me."

"Brat," he rumbles, but the dark chuckle in his voice sends a thrill through you.

His lips find the curve of your neck, open-mouthed kisses trailing downward as his fingers make quick work of your bra clasp. You sigh as his mouth drifts lower, the cool edge of his glasses grazing your skin, leaving faint marks in their wake.

Then he meets your eyes, holding your gaze as his teeth catch the waistband of your panties, peeling them down with agonising slowness. You bite your lip, stifling a moan at the sight—the way he's looking at you makes your core pulse with need.

He leans in, capturing your lips in another deep, hungry kiss. Before you can even catch your breath, his fingers slip between your folds, and you gasp at the sudden touch.

"So wet already?" he teases, voice rough with amusement.

"Only for you, Cheollie," you purr, arching into his touch.

A sharp smack lands between your legs, making you jolt with a startled whimper. His grip tightens, holding you in place as he growls, "That's not my name."

You bite your lip, breath hitching. "I—I'm sorry…daddy."

A low hum of approval rumbles in his chest before rewarding you with another searing kiss. "Good girl," he murmurs against your lips, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

He spreads your legs wider, his own framing yours as he cages you beneath him—his broad body towering over you, making you feel deliciously small. The sheer dominance of it sends a fresh pulse of heat between your thighs. His rough, calloused hands roam your bare skin, dragging shivers from you with every slow, possessive stroke. You arch into his touch, pressing up against him, craving more.

You notice he's still fully clothed, and you're the one fully naked. The imbalance thrills you, that unspoken dominance sending a shiver straight down your spine.

You pout up at him. "I want to see you too."

A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest. "Maybe if you're good, I'll reward you," he purrs, before dragging his tongue up the valley between your breasts. You whine, arching into the heat of his mouth as he licks and nips, teasing until your skin flushes.

Then he guides your wrists to the headboard—a sharp click snaps through the air. Your eyes fly open. Handcuffs.

"Wha—?" You jerk against the restraints, but Seungcheol just smirks, fingers tracing the inside of your trapped wrist.

"Didn't you say you wanted me to arrest you, sweetheart?"

A whine escapes you as you tug uselessly at the cuffs, and his laugh is pure wicked satisfaction. "Look at you," he murmurs, gaze raking over your naked, squirming form. "Helpless. Perfect." The words coil low in your belly, heat pooling at your cunt.

His lips brush your ear. "Gonna taste that pretty pussy of yours." 

He licks the shell of your ear before he's moving down, kisses searing a path to your core. You writhe, his breath ghosting over your slick folds before his tongue drags a slow, torturous stripe up your slit.

"Just as sweet as I imagined," he growls—then devours you.

You gasp as his mouth seals over your clit, sucking hard, his tongue flicking in ruthless rhythm. Every stroke is deliberate and experienced, and when he plunges deeper, lapping at your dripping entrance, your back arches off the bed.

"The glasses—ah—they scratch. Take them off," you pant, squirming.

"Such a demanding brat," he mutters under his breath, but he yanks them off, tossing them aside before hauling your thighs over his shoulders. His mouth crashes back into you, lips and tongue working in tandem until you're sobbing, broken chants of "daddy" leaving your lips.

Then his fingers are inside you, curling just right, and your vision whites out. "Daddy!"

"That's it, baby," he rasps, adding a second finger, stretching you deliciously. "Tell me how good I make you feel."

You're beyond words—just moans, hips jerking against his hand as he pounds into that sweet spot, over and over. His free hand pins your hip down, holding you in place as his mouth returns to your clit, sucking hard just as his fingers curl at your sweet spot—

You shatter.

Pleasure rips through you, your cry echoing off the walls as you clamp around his fingers. But he doesn't stop—if anything, he doubles down, fingers relentless, tongue circling your oversensitive clit until you're thrashing, tears pricking your eyes.

"F-Fuck!" You cum again, harder this time, your body convulsing as you squirt across his chin, and ruining his shirt.

Finally, he pulls back, lips glistening. The sight of him—hair dishevelled, eyes blown dark, skin flushed and drenched in you—is straight up, sinful. God, you wanted to touch him so bad.

"Uncuff me—I wanna touch you," you pant, twisting against the restraints.

His low chuckle sends a shiver down your spine. "Don't think you've earned that yet, sweetheart."

You whine, tugging harder. "Come on—"

"Still such a brat," he mutters, voice rough. "Guess I'll have to fuck that attitude out of you."

A smirk curls your lips. "You sure you can handle that, daddy? Or is your old man dick all talk?"

His eyes flash dark, a growl rumbling from his chest. In one smooth motion, he strips off his shirt and pants, and your breath hitches. The thick outline of his cock strains against his boxers—fuck, it's massive.

Noticing your stunned silence, he cocks a brow. "Cat got your tongue?"

You force a scoff. "I've seen bigger." (Lie. A blatant lie.)

"Mouthy little thing," he murmurs, stepping closer. "Gonna have to fix that."

Then his smirk turns wicked as he hooks his thumbs into his boxers, sliding them down slowly. Your lips part—God, his cock is right there, thick and heavy, the tip flushed and glistening. Every vein, every twitch makes your thighs clench. You want to taste him, worship him, beg for it.

But before you can, he grips your jaw, prying your mouth open. With his free hand, he shoves his boxers between your teeth, muffling you with the fabric. You choke, eyes watering as he tuts.

"There. Much better." His thumb strokes your cheek, admiring his handiwork.

You squirm, whining around the gag, but he just chuckles. "Play bratty games, win bratty prizes."

When you glare, he only grins wider. Then he reaches into the nightstand, pulling out a condom. You shake your head frantically—no, you want him raw, want to feel every inch without anything between you.

"I'm not risking it, sweetheart," he grins, rolling it on.

Then he's back over you, folding your legs against your chest as he lines up. The teasing brush of his tip against your entrance makes you whimper, hips jerking for more.

His smirk is the last thing you see before he slams into you—knocking the air from your lungs in one brutal thrust.

Your eyes roll back as he fucks into you with a relentless, almost feral rhythm—each deep thrust stretching you perfectly, the angle making it feel like he's reaching your womb. The makeshift gag muffles your cries, reducing you to nothing but choked whimpers and breathless moans.

Grunts spill from his lips as he pounds into your dripping cunt, his body folding over yours until his nose brushes yours, his gaze locking onto you with dark intensity. Overwhelmed, you try to shut your eyes—

"Look at me," he growls, gripping your face. A whimper escapes you as you obey, drowning in the heat of his stare. The intimacy of it sends your heart racing, the connection somehow even more dizzying than the way he's wrecking you.

The bed protests beneath you, creaking in time with his thrusts as you teeter on the edge. A high, desperate sound claws its way from your throat, tears pricking your eyes as the tension coils tighter, tighter—

"Gonna cum, sweetheart?" His voice is rough and strained, as he feels your walls flutter around him.

You nod frantically, so close you can't think. Then his fingers find your clit, circling with just the right pressure—

"Go on,” he growls. “Cum for me."

You shatter with a scream, pleasure crashing through you in waves as he fucks you through it, his pace never faltering. A few more brutal thrusts, and he follows with a groan, spilling into the condom as his hips stutter against yours.

Foreheads pressed together, you both gasp for air, sweat-slick and spent. He pulls out slowly, drawing a soft whine from you, then gently lowers your legs, kneading the tension from your thighs before freeing your wrists, his thumbs soothing the reddened skin. He removes the condom and throws it away before getting back on the bed and pulling you close.

"Good?" he murmurs, brushing away your tears with a tenderness that contrasts the rough fuck he just gave you.

You grin, still breathless. "More than good. Best fuck of my life."

"Well, let me give you the second-best fuck you've ever had, then," he smirks, before smashing his lips onto yours.

Suffice it to say, walking won't be an option for a while.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @sashaaahh @xueisaaa17 @aeriyell @eshia16 @dreamingofpcy @archivistworld @kyeomiis @iwannakisspoutycheol @foxiesgf24 @livelaughloveseventeen @kwanniehae @ateez-atiny380 @junnhuisworld @horangipower17 @cheolsbb26 @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo @brownsugarbaybee @adiknyamingyu @smiileflower

[mygnolia]

to weave my love ⭒ n. riki

⭒ SYNOPSIS -› Riki is good at many things- dancing, making fun of his friends, playing it cool (debatable.), Hell- he’s even good at saving people from falling buildings without getting whiplash. But the things he’s bad at? Well, it’s asking you out to prom, and trying to balance the shared assignment he has with you…while being Spider-man.

⭒ PAIR -› spiderman!nishimura riki x fem-pres!reader

⭒ GENRE -› fluff, banter, action ⭒ TROPES -› classmates to lovers, idiots to lovers ⭒ WC -› 17k (i’m sorry idk why either.)

⭒ INCLUDES -› SPOILERS FOR GREAT GATSBY, cursing, non-graphic injuries (reader discretion advised), yes i made the patching up with first aid kit trope SUE ME!! takes place in a busy city similar to new york never specified, reader is rich, jake and heeseung are seniors and riki’s a junior, is riki stupid? yes… jake reveals stuff because he is also a little silly, reader wears a red dress!

⭒ GREAT GATSBY -› basically jay gatsby has this weird amt of money but no one rlly knows how he got it (nefarious reasons) and hes been in love with this girl daisy for five years but then she got married to tom buchanan but he gets rich so he can get the house across from her and wistfully watch her and he pines after her like CRAZY but he dies at the end

⭒ REN SAYS...special huge fat kiss to thena @sensitively-taken you will be in the will when im a millionaire THANK YOU for helping me with so much of this I WUV U AND I WLL BE WAITING FOR UR HUENING FIC!!! | LIBRARY

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM PRE-ADULTHOOD STRESS, IF THAT’S EVEN A THING.

What exactly does Riki have to worry about as a seventeen-year-old junior in high school? Right now, his most daunting responsibility is catching up on the chapters of The Great Gatsby because the only thing Riki’s actually read from the novel is that the main character shares a name with his best friend and senior, Park Jay. His second most daunting responsibility is handling the fact that with the new seating chart in his Literature class, it means he’s sitting next to the object of his very subtle affections, you. 

See, the problem with having a crush on you is that Nishimura Riki’s committed to thinking that you’re way out of his league, and unfortunately, the boy believes that almost too well. Not only are you minted beyond his wildest dreams (having seen your posts on social media), but you’re hardworking, helpful, and dedicated to your role as student body treasurer. He’s already understood that you’d never go for a guy like him. Maybe someone more like Park Sunghoon, whose parents’ salary matches yours. If Riki lived in a rural estate with generational wealth, handling the whole ‘Spider-Man’ thing might be a bit easier for him, considering he wouldn’t have to try so hard in school. It might even change the fact that Riki dealt with some alleyway criminals last night and is currently catching up on lost sleep, as your English Literature teacher goes on and on about a project on the book you’re reading. 

In class, and even sometimes outside of the classroom, your small tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings has landed you in some awkward situations—like now. 

“I don’t really tell anyone this, but I hate Daisy.” And instead of getting a response, you glance over to see Nishimura Riki slumped on the desk. Without trying to make preconceptions about what could land him in a situation like this, you poke his arm, stifling a smile at how his eyes widen when you’ve caught him rubbing the very obvious sleep from his eye. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, still fighting the post-nap grogginess, “Did I miss anything?” 

(Nope.)

Shaking your head, you return your attention to your teacher as he continues to answer questions. The second Mr. Yoo assigned a report, you wanted to die even more considering the work you had to do on top of the impending due dates. But for it to be partnered? And for you to get seated and paired with the one boy who's known for not caring about school? Maybe things are a little stacked against you, but there has to be a reason why Riki’s somehow still passing all his classes…right?

Considering it’s the last assignment about the book, you’re glad that you already read it so many times to know what you want to put into words. And in retrospect, answering a few open-ended questions about it can’t be that hard—the hardest part would be getting your partner to stay awake in class. 

A small tap at your side makes you turn to face Riki, who you see has frantically written a page full of notes about the project in the past three minutes and how he can succeed. “Can you go over the first part? Sorry…I was…y’know.” 

“It’s a partner project. And we’re partners.” You wince at the awkward wording. 

Great! Riki was caught sleeping and that was your first impression of him for your paired assignment? Riki feels so stupid in front of you right now—in front of your meticulous notes with annotations and proper highlighting. He wants to curl up into a ball when he sees you glance over at his haphazard attempt to look like he was paying attention when, in truth, he was trying to remember the dream he had just ten minutes prior. When you offer him a small smile and nod, leaning over with your notebook in hand, he sighs in relief, thanking whoever it was that let him get away with his naps without the consequence of irritating you afterwards. 

The bell rings when Mr. Yoo stops talking, and you pause, startled by the sound. Instead of leaving, however, you pack your bag and shuffle to his side of his desk, continuing to parrot details about your report in hopes that it all makes sense. You need to make sure he knows what he’s doing. 

“I think one of the questions he mentioned was like ‘Is Gatsby a good person?’ and do you remember how in Chapter Eight…” The rest gets zoned out and forgotten in the boy’s head, because he in fact does not know what happened in Chapter Eight. He doesn’t know what happened…in any part of the book. But he agrees anyway, pretending like he understands what scene you’re trying to explain. What he notices is how thorough and dedicated you are towards ensuring he comprehends what you’re explaining, and although it could be because you don’t want him to fail you both, he chooses to believe you’re doing it because you tolerate him. 

You’re so engrossed in covering all the little details and telling him random tidbits regarding the book that you don’t realize your feet have made it all the way to the cafeteria. “But here, let me get your number. I’ll totally explain more over text.” 

Riki is definitely not freaking out when he silently grabs his phone and hands it to you with the contact page, staring a little longer than necessary at the cute smiley face you added to your name. “Thanks,” he mumbles, forcibly tearing his eyes away from the ten digits of your number, “For helping me with this, too.”

“Of course! The Great Gatsby is a fun read for me. A little hard to read sometimes because of some of the characters, but still easy to understand.” And Nishimura RIki realizes that he has to do well. He’ll read the book five times over if it means gaining your approval. 

Jake notices something a little different about the tuft of black and blonde hair when his friend walks in. The first thing is that he’s actually here, and that you’re next to him, smiling. The boy rubs his eye to make sure he’s not dreaming somehow, but when he looks up again, you’re waving goodbye and joining your friends across the room. 

“Did you get hit with something while fighting a villain that makes you more bold? I feel like I just saw you and ____ talking,” Jake starts when Riki finally joins him with his lunch. 

Riki laughs, shoving Jake’s head out of embarrassment and opening his chips. “It’s just school. Got some project in English and she says we’re partnered.” He looks over at his friend chuckling, rolling his eyes at how Jake pokes at his side and wiggles his eyebrows. 

“I better hear you two are dating by next week.” 

“Who’s dating by next week?” Heeseung places his bag of food in front of them and takes a seat, opening the fast food he got last period and stuffing a fry in his mouth. 

“Riki and ____. Let me have one,” Jake answers, reaching inside the bag. 

Heeseung looks over at his junior curiously. “You asked her out?” And the two older students hear a groan from the boy in question. 

“Me and ____ aren’t anything, for your information.” He prods at the vegetables on his tray and takes a bite before a look of displeasure washes over his face. “You’re both way too excited for two guys who do not have girlfriends.” 

“Hey! You know the girl I’m always fighting with is the reason why I’m single. I have to focus on studying to do well in school to do better than her.” Heeseung’s whining falls on deaf ears as Riki smiles victoriously, seeing how defensive the former got. 

Jake offers him a shrug of defeat. “I got nothing.”

The three of them fall into normal conversation and Riki finally explains everything that happened during English.  “So you’re telling me your plan to ask ____ out went down from 18 months to 6?” And with a nod from the younger, they both groan once more. Heeseung exclaims, “We’re both going to graduate, dumbass. Make the plan go down to like…two months? Please?” 

Jake cuts in before Riki has a chance to respond. “Make it one and a half, so we can see you with a prom date before leaving forever.” 

“You act as if you’re going to die after graduation. It’s like you’re begging to be a super senior.” 

And they’re silenced immediately. 

“Do you think the guy I was with earlier hates me?” you ask on the other side of the room. Minjeong stares at you blankly, waiting for your explanation. “I don’t know if you saw when I walked in but I was talking to this really tall guy with blonde hair and black tips. He seemed really out of it, like he kept staring at me and nodding. I think I scared him off by talking about the book too much.” 

Sunghoon, who is also listening in, opens his neatly packed lunchbox and begins mixing his noodles. “I think you did scare him off, ____.”

“Not helping,” Minjeong interjects, “Just talk to him more and maybe he’ll warm up to you. You two sit together in class anyways, so hopefully he’ll talk more?” 

“I know him,” Sunghoon comments, “Well, sort of. I’m friends with Jake who’s friends with Riki, and it seems like all that boy does is sleep.” 

“Maybe he’s really good at subconscious in-class comprehension?” you try, taking a bite of your sandwich. “I just hope it doesn’t interfere too much with treasurer stuff.” 

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE IF HE SWINGS INTO ANOTHER WALL AT 100MPH LIKE HOW HE ALMOST DID TONIGHT.

All he’s had on his mind since school ended till now is how he should probably text you, if he really discarded the slimy acid monster from last week properly, and when the prom theme is going to be released, but there’s something amiss that confuses his spidey-senses and makes Riki much more alert. 

He snaps out of whatever train of thought he had before, focusing on the situation at hand and looking around to follow his instinct. Riki cautiously plants himself on the side of a random apartment building to get a sense of what's going on. A tingle of some sort of in the air permeates the material of his suit and leaves him shivering from the cold. 

He doesn't like it one bit. 

Moving to the side of the building to the top, the boy finally catches a glimpse of something when he gets a decent view of the city and highway systems. Riki knows something’s wrong with the bridge the closer he gets. He zips from one side of the tall, metal tower to the other, crawling down on all fours making sure he isn’t caught. He feels the electric feeling once more, only amplified. It runs up his spine and he wants to slap it, almost like a frantic, summertime bug. The air around him is charged with something he has never recognized before. With a puzzled expression under his mask, Riki continues to investigate the surrounding area. 

Riki finds a lone figure with some sort of attachment to his left arm, like a long glove made out of metal. The bulkiness of it seems to have no impact on his body as the man fiddles with the contraption, and the boy watches with bated breath as the machine fizzes and spurts with electricity. It begins to glow as power concentrates on his plated palm and the superhero sees it for the first time. It’s like a fizz, like a match striking at fire only to produce a quick burst of friction, but it almost feels liquid when he watches the person play with the flickering blue ball of electricity. It dances in the dark in a hauntingly beautiful way, with bolts jutting out from the metal as it spurts and buzzes with a life-like manner. 

A spark. 

“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sound of Riki’s voice from the end of the bridge causes the stranger to look up with wide eyes. Although Riki fully expects it to simply enhance strength or block damage, the immediate strike of blue that flies straight towards him is anything but defensive. With a yelp, he jumps away, this time refusing to show himself. 

What the hell was that?

He knows he should go back down there to change things and get the person and the metal pieces away before it escalates, but when he goes back down to watch, it's ten times worse. The bright blue illuminates the scarred face of the villain as he’s picked up the metal arm–but this time, it’s no longer clunky and sparking, but fused into his arm. 

Riki’s face pales at the sudden change before his body acts on its own and he shoots out a web to stop the man. 

The villain is shocked by the intrusion, but quickly yanks free from the webbing and flicks another bolt of electricity, one that flies much faster now that the metal flows into the arm instead of simply resting on the skin. It’s unlike something Riki has ever seen, something that is so controlled in motion and yet so erratic in nature, and it instills a deathly fear when it grazes his arm he hisses in pain. The sharp feeling springs Riki into action as he jumps away. He’s lucky another bolt isn’t sent his way, seeing how the villain’s too busy marveling at the power of his new gadget.

“You know that fucking hurts, right?” He yells out, cupping his wound. “Maybe leave the gadgets to the kids!”

The man scoffs. “It better have hurt. I sacrificed half my body for this to work.”

“But why?” All Riki wants is answers. Some sort of explanation.

The man charges up yet another bolt, almost like a laser gun is built into the machine. “Less talking, more running, Spiderman.” 

That scared the shit out of him. 

The boy doesn’t have time to think as he jumps out from the dark tunnel to the bridge and up the metal towers—he hates having to fight with people right below. The villain follows in pursuit, almost crumbling the metal with his engineered arm as he hoists himself quickly. Riki continues to jump between the structure to avoid the flashes, trying to get out and apprehend the man as quickly as possible. When he reaches the top, however, he feels death is near as he glances down at the villain below who’s quickly gaining on him. He shoots out webs to slow him temporarily, letting himself fall and swing from the side of the tower to escape. 

What he doesn’t see on the way across the bridge is the flash that misses his cheek and hits his thigh instead. It burns, and mid-air, Riki gives the wound a quick assessment before he lands on the metal, immediately forcing his body to climb. While dealing with his wound, he fails to notice the villain swinging from the bridge support lines to meet him. 

He needs to end this fast before he becomes burnt toast.

Riki doesn’t often rely on instinct to carry him, but he can tell that the villain he’s facing isn’t just a criminal. 

“Land another hit, would you?” he tries to say, his voice strained from the pain in his arm and leg. It doesn’t do much to deter the man in front of him as the arm continues to destroy and bend the metal on the way up. “What are you going to do now, Sparky?”

The man says nothing, charging energy into his metal glove again before aiming and focusing on the target: him. 

Riki jumps off, not able to properly land his web in the right spot as he goes from one section of the bridge to the other. The man behind him looks enraged at the boy’s attempt to escape—so much so that he reaches out with his normal hand to try to grasp the suit when Spider-Man swings past him. Instead of the feeling of fabric, the villain feels sticky spider fluid on his fingers. Riki shoots out a web, one that curls around the villain’s wrist and drags him off the tower. Instead of being able to launch him into the surrounding waters, the man slips from the poorly shot-out webs and falls from mid air into the sea of frantic cars, including one semi truck that collides directly with his arm. In the air, the boy winces when he hears honks and shouts from the impact, hoping it’s the last time he’ll have to witness it.

With his gaze trained on the falling figure, the weakly attached web breaks, and Riki all of a sudden starts falling down as well. He curls up defensively before bracing for impact, curling into himself when he feels the metal dent and the truck driver scream from outside of the parked vehicle, the body of the villain right in front of it. 

Riki staggers, holding onto his arm and thigh the best he can before getting up. With wobbly steps and a small jump, he lands near the unconscious man, whose metal arm is cracked and fizzling—something that Riki knows is bound to leave more scars. 

“Call the police. I’ll get rid of the pieces.” Although Riki wants to figure out who the criminal is and make sure he’s properly apprehended, the gashes in the boy's limbs leave him winded and exhausted. With hot metal scraps bound together by webbing in his hands, Riki swings out and dumps it somewhere rural, trying his best to cover the pieces with the pounding headache that 

Riki revisits the secluded spot under the bridge, looking for clues to the man’s identity, and his expression falls when he notices a lanyard dangling near a trash can. 

His name, his position, and the company. FLiGHT Corp. The company name caught the boy’s eye, and he pockets the item before leaving. 

It seemed like he was a normal research scientist, but Riki’s recollection of the scars and tattered skin leaves him retracting his last thought. He heard something about the failure of a time travel machine at FLiGHT, and if the mass of the incident was anything to go by, he was in the center of it. 

No matter how many times Riki tries to get it out of his head, on the way home, all he can think about is the inexperience he displayed and the lack of response he gave Riki during the whole time. But Riki can’t bring himself to really take away someone’s life—and maybe for that, he’s a horrible superhero. 

He knows he should stop the man before it's too late, and especially with how many self-proclaimed villains there have been, it's not easy to see so many innocent people ruin their lives chasing a power that inevitably consumes them. He knows it’ll only get worse if he lets them run free.

And while the superhero has never been fully honest with himself, there are many times where Riki hates his role as Spider-Man, and wishes that he was just some teenage boy who didn't have the lives of others in his palm. He wishes he didn't have to sacrifice so much to stay behind a mask—and he wonders deep down if there’s anyone else who felt the same. 

His swings lead him across the city above hundreds of lives he has to protect, and he tries to find some semblance of peace. He thinks about how he has his homework due despite having just risked his life, he thinks about how your project is going—and about you. 

In the night under the stars, Nishimura Riki wishes for something just a bit normal. He wishes a good night for himself, but also for you, wherever you could be.

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE FROM TRYING TO READ THIS BOOK IN ONE NIGHT.

The Great Gatsby is exactly like how you described it; a little hard to get through but fun with the plot’s eccentric characters. He’s pretty sure he could’ve just used a detailed SparkNotes explanation for the book, but having a crush can make someone do weird things. And in Nishimura Riki’s case, his infatuation has got him reading a novel about morally-skewed characters and rich society to impress you. 

When you come into class barely on time, Riki gives you a confused look when you sit down, but doesn’t comment on it any further. Instead, he takes out his book and tries to act like his eyes weren’t closing shut from exhaustion by the time Daisy was finally confessing how she loved Gatsby. 

The moment Mr. Yoo stops talking, however, Riki isn’t asleep—much to your surprise. He has his book out, pages filled with sticky notes and a whole section of his notebook dedicated to characters (written in bright red to keep him awake) and their traits. 

“I got it.” It’s the first thing he says when you two are left to do in-class work. It’s ominous, and maybe a little too enthusiastic in a high school literature class for a boy who doesn’t even care that much for school, but you’ll accept it with open arms if it means you get a helping hand on your project. 

“Continue,” you tell him slowly, leaning back in your chair to listen to him. And you don’t know why, but a small part of you thinks that the boy who sleeps every period the book was discussed wouldn’t have much to say or contribute to such an open-ended prompt, but life is full of surprises. 

What you fail to notice is how Riki is nervous and his stomach does at least twenty flips before he swallows dryly and starts rambling in hopes to impress you and redeem himself from his embarrassing slumber a few days ago. 

“So you know how our prompt is based on one character and basically all their actions?” he asks, and you nod, absentmindedly thumbing a sheet in your journal. “I’m thinking we should talk about Jay Gatsby because so much is revealed to us about him that we might as well use it to our advantage. Y’know, talking about how the theme of exploitation and secrets is veiled under Gatsby’s desire for Daisy.”

“You don’t think Gatsby’s a good character?” Riki wants to tell you that Gatsby is more relatable than good or bad, but he shakes his head. 

“I mean, not really.” He feels like with those four words, he’s completely changed the trajectory of his relationship with you from a positive slope to completely downhill—and a wave of panic washes over him. “Should I? I mean, I could see him as more redeemable if you gave me examp-“

You wave your hand to quell his worries. “To be honest, I don’t like him either. But he’s an interesting main character to write about, so I think we should go with your idea.” 

To win your approval feels like he’s won at least three fights against a villain in a row without getting any bad injuries—it feels good. And for the rest of the period, you are able to finish a detailed outline of your work for the next few weeks, mapping out sections for each other, and he even gets to see a part of prom planning on a word document you had open. He considers your shared productivity a win when he packs up and bids you goodbye before leaving for lunch. 

One wave doesn’t catch Riki’s attention from across the room. Not even two, or three calls of his name could get Nishimura Riki out of his thoughts, and Jake frowns before moving up in the lunch line. 

“Something’s caught your eye again.” Jake feigns innocence and sighs dramatically as he places the food down next to Riki’s plate. “Could it possibly be our school treasurer?” Jake laughs, leaning over to catch a glimpse of what’s got his friend so entranced and non-responsive.

Riki scrunches his nose, annoyed, but never breaking his gaze from where you’re sitting. “We talked in class–like, a lot,” is all he says, paying his friend no mind. “She’s genuinely so understanding.”

“God, I don’t think you can be any more down bad for her than you are right now.” Jake picks at his food, and despite his concentration directed towards the olives on his pizza, he’s able to dodge the flying loaded nacho that goes his way, even if he wasn’t the one with superpowers.

“Can you shut up?” Riki grumbles, laying his head on his arms as he notices you smile and point to something. “I just got pummeled into a semi truck last week. Let me have this before I die tomorrow.” 

“Very grim,” his friend notes, ruffling the younger’s hair, “I think this is exactly what all of those mental health assemblies that we get are for.” And Riki basically tunes him out, too tired to fight and too used to the teasing remarks to come up with anything useful in response. 

Riki sits up a bit, letting his head rest on his propped elbow as he looks at the school food and touches another nacho gingerly. “Y’know, I read the book for English so she wouldn’t think I’m an idiot.” 

His friend snickers, successfully pulling out yet another sliced olive from the cheese, much to the disgust of Riki. “She probably already thinks you’re an idiot.” 

The superhero debates throwing another cheesy nacho in Jake's face, before deciding to eat it instead. “Don’t say that asshole! You make it seem like I have no chance with her.” 

Jake shoots him an exasperated look that makes Riki break eye contact. “That’s because you don’t.” 

“I’ll prove to her that I’m worth her time.” Riki says somewhat wistfully, still stealing glances from a few tables away. “Maybe I’ll ask her out to prom, show up in my suit. Do that cheesy upside down kiss shit people say Spiderman does.” When his friend raises an eyebrow at him, Riki shrugs. “I will! Well-maybe not the Spider-Man thing, but prom definitely.” 

Jake continues to look at him unconvinced as he takes a bite out of a slice of pizza with mangled cheese. “You barely talk to her in class and you think you can ask her out to prom as Nishimura Riki?” And the younger grins, eyes still stuck on how your eyes crinkle and how your shoulders shake with laughter. 

“Yup.” And his fate is sealed, just like that.

“What’s your project about, anyways? Didn’t you tell me last night that she gave you her number? Must be pretty serious if she wants to text you.” Riki furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head. 

“It’s just tying the theme of the book to one character and writing about how they show it. So we did the theme of money and Gatsby, because it’s easy and mentioned so many times.” 

Jake gawks. “You must really like her,”

“I was planning to read it regardless of who I was partnered with.” 

“Okay- that’s debatable.” There goes another one of Riki’s nachos.

“Gross.” 

He thinks things are going pretty well for you two. The report is being written and your quotes are basically finding themselves, so Riki should give himself a pat on the back for pitching the initial idea for how to go about your assignment. Maybe reading the whole book offered him a few useful pointers, and he goes to sleep that night satisfied with your progress. Maybe Heeseung and Jake were right—maybe he could finally ask you out by prom. 

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO SAVE THE CITY FROM YET ANOTHER MONSTER TERRORIZING THE STREETS.

He wakes up the next morning, not expecting his alarm to alert his senses to danger. It rings in his head and makes him feel delirious, trying to shake sleep off as he looks out the window for any visible sign of what's wrong. If he could hear the danger in his head then that meant someone could be hurt, and he could go to school without a few hours of sleep if he worked fast enough, right? 

Riki slips into his suit without much thought and goes to crack his window open, only to look back at his clock and read the horrific time of 6:23AM. 

Who the hell picks a fight with a teenager at this ungodly time? 

Then, he shoots from his wrists, once, twice, and suddenly, he's off, covering more ground through the air in just three seconds than he ever could while walking or running for minutes on end.

The source of his tingling spidey-sense is some large metal centipede creature that was setting off car alarms in a neighborhood near the market. Thankfully, no one was really awake to be caught in the crossfire, but he has to figure out how the hell he's going to catch that thing in...he checks his watch…twenty minutes? 

Hopefully, his instinct will help him win this time—again. 

The web he shoots out does nothing to stop the monster, and considering how it connected them both, the threads only drag the superhero to the edge of the building he was initially watching from. With some yelling and pulling, he finally detaches, and realizes that the odd sizzling feeling in his bonds must be from the same source as a few days ago; Spark. 

He had this gut feeling that a villain as strong as him wouldn’t have been destroyed so easily, but his wounds were so deep and the blood loss so bad from a few nights ago that he couldn’t have truly dumped him in the ocean without fainting or suffering something permanent, and although Riki hoped things in the universe would work itself out, the presence of the giant fifty foot insect alone is proof that things were not in his favor. 

He jumps off the building onto another, working quickly as he strings up a few webs between the houses as a wall for the monster, watching it slide and knock over cars in its wild pursuit. The monster spends a few seconds breaking down the wall of webbing and climbing over it, the many legs easily breaking through. As the superhero jumps across buildings and keeps track of the centipede’s movement, he has no idea why it isn’t going for him, and that makes his job much harder without the attention of the monster. One glance at the direction the centipede is headed in sets off another ding in Riki’s head—but this time, it finally clicks why the centipede is headed away from the boy. 

It’s attracted to the power plant. 

Riki immediately jumps and swings off of a lamp post, using the momentum of gravity and the force of his swing to propel him faster than the slithering creature. Squinting, he holds out his fist and points his pointer and pinky out, following the movement of the centipede as he aims. 

Bam. 

He sends clusters of silky white threads down precisely at the first pair of legs to pin it down. The webs stop the creature momentarily, and Riki doesn’t have time to watch how the body shrinks up and fizzes out with blue shocks as it tries to wiggle loose and malfunctions. This fight would be over soon, and the boy smiles when he jumps down to shoot more webs to apprehend the centipede. It wiggles and sends electricity out through parts of its body, trying to pry itself out. He expects it to simply be a robot of sorts following a mission considering its avoidant behavior, but as he approaches the tail, the monster suddenly swings at Riki, and its mass and speed is incomparable to the boy’s reaction speed. 

Riki lands into a tree and someone’s garage, feeling the crumbling wall falling all over him and the sudden pain blooming in his lower back. 

This fight will, in fact, not be over soon. 

With his superhuman abilities, Riki grabs onto the metal of the car beside him to hoist himself up, coughing from the dust, and jumping over the rubble to see how quickly the centipede creature can get out, without regard for his current state. The sound and rumble of the giant monster is all he needs to know that the traps are effective, but not at the previous capacity. 

The plan is simple: apprehend the legs and crush the head, where Riki assumes the decision-making and programming is taking place. But the monster’s angry and erratic actions throw a wrench in his plan. Its legs move faster, digging into the cement and leaving ruin in its wake as it continues down the road. While both the villain and superhero are fast, the distance between the power plant is finite—and only grows smaller and smaller.  

Although Riki can feel the bruises coming, he runs and swings, hearing the wind in his ears as he catches up to the centipede in no time. He tries the same tactics again–aim, shoot, stick, all the while keeping his distance. Although the monster’s body spans incredibly long, and should carry an immense amount of weight, the way it snaps at Riki’s flying body and sends shockwaves through his core leaves him shivering as his body slams into the ground, coughing. It hurts all over, and it feels like there’s weight on his eyes when he tries to open them and get up. His head is spinning as he staggers onto his knees, clutching his chest as he watches the centipede shrivel and crackle. 

It seems like the voltage produced is a double-ended sword, one that burns up the centipede body as much as it deals damage, and with the way the mutant creeps towards the electricity of the plant, Riki gets the feeling there’s a magnetic pull that forces the mutant to continue to crawl even against its instinct to stop. 

Despite his waning strength, however, Riki knows better than to half finish the job like last time. He creates a net from experience, weaving together the thickest and most durable threads to trap the entirety of the slowly approaching creature. It seems to crawl slowly up the makeshift barrier, knocking its head against the white and spreading the bright blue waves of its energy throughout. The boy watches as the thin white mass absorbs all of it and clings to the creature. It works, finally, after his attempts to nullify its movements, and he knows that despite the ache in his every step, the almost mummified centipede that hangs between several roofs for all the neighbors to gawk at is his sure sign of victory. 

All he remembers is hearing a familiar call of his hero name before his legs give out and his head hits Jake’s chest. 

Holy fucking shit is the first thing Riki thinks when he wakes up. 

He’s not out of his tattered suit and he feels grimy all over, but his body has done wonders in reducing the otherwise fatal injuries he got. No human body should be able to withstand two energy-filled blasts, but his suit and superhuman healing are of greater help than ever in alleviating the damage from his wounds. 

He knows why he’s in his bed with bandages thrown over his open wounds. He knows that every time something like this happens, it’s Jake who shoos away the concerned civilians, telling them he’s a medic. Jake is not a medic—rather, he’s a seventeen year-old boy who knows about his friend’s double life and with all the times he’s saved Riki, someone might as well dub him the greatest medic of all time. 

The clock on his bedside table has only served as a bearer of bad news. He looks over to see how it’s practically midday, and he’s missed yet another day of school from fighting crime. He’s in no condition to get up or get his bag, seeing how his hair is frizzy and his cheek has a cut that would warrant questioning. It seems only fair that he stays absent, and before he falls back asleep, he only prays you aren’t too mad at him for leaving the seat next to you empty.

But you aren’t mad, just worried. The soreness in his muscles doesn’t go away though, and he groans when he sits up in his bed, with bandages around his arms and an ice pack discarded next to him. 

He’s most definitely not coming to school like this. 

While you bore holes into the clock hanging off the wall, that doesn’t speed up the time. Two minutes pass, then another minute. As your classmates find their partners and begin discussing, you notice how the room gets louder with the due date looming near. It’s the first time you’re alone without the familiar boy beside you, and something hangs low in your chest when you put in a pair of earphones and open your laptop. 

Riki’s absence should have no effect on you. After all, you’re both just high school students who’ve talked once or twice, and yet you still look over at the empty chair. Staring doesn’t make Riki appear, though, and you return to your edits. It feels empty without his insight, or without him asking you to help him with a passage. Riki was your solution to all things boring. If he wasn’t doing his work, then you two were laughing at something on his phone. And if you agreed to both do something other than the report, then you could ask for an extra opinion when deciding prom details. There was something freeing about working with him that attracted you. Riki knew how to lighten the mood on days that weren’t so good for you, but he also worked hard and let loose at the same time. There was a perfect balance in Riki’s life that you aspired to have; it was a good mix of playful, dedicated, and fun all in the same vein. 

The words blend together on your screen. Jay Gatsby this, Tom Buchanan that, it all looks monotonous the more you keep trying to read and comprehend what exactly you’re talking about. 

Before class is dismissed, Mr. Yoo steps to the front of the classroom to gather everyone’s attention. He introduces your new novel for the next month, explaining yet another large assignment associated with the text. 

Truth be told, you don’t pay attention to any of it. 

The only thing you remember to do is to grab extra copies of the printed graphic organizers, as you get out of your seat and rush out when class ends in pursuit of one specific boy. 

“Sim Jaeyun!” The call of his name diverts Jake’s attention from his phone to your waving arm as you weave through the students and finally reach him. 

“You can just call me Jake,” he explains, “what’s up?” 

You begin to reach into your backpack, trying to feel for your folder, and pull out a few sheets. “These are for Riki.” 

Jake cheers internally for his friend who’s busy recovering at home. “What, you got a crush on him or something?” 

He tries to play it cool by teasing you, but the smile you bite back leaves the boy questioning if there really is anything going on. Jake knows better than to tell you anything about Riki’s feelings, and opts to instead grab the papers and to thank you for looking out for his friend. 

“Is Riki okay?” You have to know, just to make sure he’ll be here tomorrow to cure your boredom. 

What Jake says is much different than the nonchalant wave and half grin he gives you. “He’s just bedridden.” 

“That’s pretty serious! Did he come down with anything?” He seemed fine yesterday, so what’s the catch?

He blurts, “He just got badly hurt.” 

Immediately, Jake knows he’s fucked up. 

Your confusion and silence answers him far more than words ever could–he basically hears the gears turning slowly in your head.

Jake weakly defends, “His parents had a fight with him because he hit his head or something. He’ll be fine by tomorrow. Just bedridden from sadness, y’know?” 

The look you give him is unconvinced, but when Heeseung pats him on the shoulder and waves to you, the boy realizes that maybe staying quiet would’ve been the better decision. 

“I’ll see you later, ____.” And he’s off, waving half-heartedly and dragging a very confused Heeseung out of the cafeteria. 

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE TRYING TO WAKE YOU UP AS GENTLY AS HE CAN.

Ever since March started and flowers began to bloom, your energy seemed to do the opposite, dwindling until Riki catches you mirroring his frequent in-class action: sleeping. And it worries him beyond belief, because you’re not the type to fall asleep like… ever. However, Riki does not have the heart to wake you up, even if it’s with a little nudge that you probably barely feel with how light he taps. It breaks his heart to have to ask you to review what he has done, because the bell is about to ring and the teacher might just send you to detention if he catches you off-task. 

The allergies always make Mr. Yoo irritable, and Riki knows not to get on his nerves. 

Your eyes flutter open to the pokes and prodding from none other than Nishimura Riki, who gazes at you softly when you adjust to the bright classroom setting once more. 

Panic settles in. “Wait- how long was I sleeping for?” 

He shrugs and scrunches his nose, not giving you an answer as he finishes scribbling something in his notebook. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Your hand squeezes into a fist at the frustration that you’ve let your partner down. 

And yet, Riki seems to be unfazed, frowning when he sees you stressing out. “Don’t ever sweat the little things, yeah? If there’s anything you ever need to talk about–trust me, I know what it’s like to have a lot of pressure on your shoulders.”

Smiling at him, you respond with, “Thank you, really.” 

Being treasurer is daunting in the spring. It’s full of requests, forms, and small tasks that leave you spent by the end of the day. “But,” you glance at the clock to see just how much time is left, “how’d you know?” 

He motions to your open computer with a now dark screen. “I saw your document pulled up. ____’s tasks or else she will be kicked out of student government,” he taunts, snickering when your eyes grow wide with embarrassment and you lightly nudge his shin with your foot in warning. 

“It’s not polite to snoop,” and although you say that, you catch something in your peripheral vision. It’s a few drawings of a figure and gadget drawn, shaded from rigid shapes with small descriptions pointing to different places. You weren’t sure what was more surprising; how good the drawings were, or the subject of his imagination. 

Weird. Inherently, there was nothing wrong with Riki drawing a villain, and you chalked it up to him being creative. Nothing more, nothing less. 

He puts his hands up in surrender at your last comment, his grin showing anything but. Just one look at the boy makes you realize that everything you’ve just thought about is foolish. 

There’s no way he’d have time to be a villain and a student. With one final thought, you let your raging thoughts rest and focus on the present; him. You’ve seen his hair messy, especially after his naps, but when Riki tries to style it like how he did today, you pay more attention to the streaks of blonde and how he often hides behind his bangs and scrunches his nose. It’s cute. He’s cute.

The truth is, you enjoy being around him like this, joking around and never worrying too much about your responsibilities and expectations. It’s refreshing. Being around Riki gives you the feeling that things will be okay in the end. 

You snap out of your thoughts to see that his desk is empty, while your’s hasn’t changed one bit.

“You’re going to sell prom tickets now, right?” He makes small talk before leaving for lunch, closing the notebook you were suspiciously eying before slipping it into his bag. 

“Yup,” you answer, popping the ‘p,’ “I’ll see you later,” and you two part ways.

All the long lines and constant distribution of change doesn’t allow much wiggle room for you to daydream. As time goes on, the ticket-selling line grows smaller and smaller, but the only thing you truly care about is eating the lunch your parents packed you. Your sandwich is probably sad and soggy now that there are only a few minutes of lunch left. When you finally sign off one last time after triple checking the forms are all correct, you let out a sigh, leaning back and finally getting a break. 

Then, it hits you that you’re not even sure if the boy you’re fawning over is attending the biggest event of the year, and you feel stupid for forgetting to ask. 

-

Yesterday was a rookie’s mistake–today, you’d make sure you get an answer from him.

“Are you going to prom, Riki?” is the first thing you ask when he sits down, grabbing his book and laptop with a little too much enthusiasm. 

“I’m thinking about it.” Yeah, whatever confidence he had when convincing himself he’d ask you out isn’t serving him well at this moment. Quite frankly, Riki feels lame as ever trying to be nonchalant around you. “You?” 

“I’d have to set up, so I would be there, yes. But whether or not I have a date is another story.” You smile to lighten the mood, but Riki watches you and nods, focusing back on signing into his laptop and getting his notes for the new book you’re reading. 

“Well, you’re not the only single one here.” And he wants to reprimand himself for saying something without thinking. “If someone asked, would you say yes?”

You think about it carefully, really because you don’t have anyone in mind when it comes to prom if Riki’s not planning on going. “It’d have to be someone I know—someone I talk to somewhat regularly. I’d be nice to be with someone who doesn’t make it awkward.”

Nishimura Riki might die from over-thinking if he keeps on wondering whether or not he fits that description to a tee.

RIKI'S TO-DO LIST BEFORE PROM

☐  talk to ____ regularly 

☐  don't make it awkward 

☐  be..cute? 

The boy decides that his superhuman responsibilities might be easier to complete than any of those three things. 

He switches the subject to stop his head from hurting too much. “Did you finish the report?” 

You still, and Riki’s question reminds you of the report looming over your head. In your defense, you two hadn’t brought it up much in the past week, and he didn’t seem to worry over how much of your time was spent emailing teachers or making spreadsheets. Although caught off guard, you’re quick to respond with, “What did we have to finish? I thought we were done since last week, but if there’s anything else-” 

“Sorry,” he rushes out, biting his lip, “I meant, if you finished reading it.” And the answer is no, you haven’t read it since your last edit on it three days ago. 

Within a few clicks, you find the document and scroll to the bottom, seeing the small note that Riki left that said ‘let me know how it looks.’ It’s sweet to know he thought about your input as much as you did his. 

“While some can agree that Gatsby’s rise into high society was sketchy, Gatsby still retains the same reserved character from years ago, and doesn’t manipulate others into success or use his money for nefarious purposes. It’s not like he changed after his wealth, and it could be argued Gatsby loved Daisy until his last breath and was willing to die as long as she was happy, emphasizing the theme of sacrifice. 

So, is Jay Gatsby a good person? The question targets the morality of a character who many can empathize with. Those who are charmed by his overwhelming love for Daisy would say that he’s committed textbook crimes, but focus more on the intent behind it. To pine after someone from a distance isn’t easy, but to pursue her after years of separation is even harder. It’s universally agreed, however, that love as a driving force doesn’t nullify what he’s done to others and the dirty schemes he’s enacted to gain the power he has. Therefore, Gatsby makes for an interesting main character, and highlights just how twisted a system around money can be.” 

The last page is–for the most part–his writing, and your admiration for him grows when you finish reading and scroll to hit your Works Cited page.

“It’s good,” you tell him wholeheartedly, “Didn’t think you had it in you.” 

Riki cracks a smile at your light teasing, soaking up your praise. 

“Now you know.” He shrugs. And he can only hope that you like him as much as you like his literary skills. 

NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE COMES TO THE REALIZATION THAT HE IS EXACTLY LIKE JAY GATSBY,JUST WITHOUT THE MONEY—DESPERATE FOR THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS, DYING YOUNG, AND A FRAUD HIDING BEHIND SECRETS.

Nevermind the last one, he has to hide when he has an identity to protect as the city’s only superhero, but Riki feels his heart sink to his heels when he read a few weeks ago how much Gatsby simply adores Daisy. When Gatsby died, he scoffed, closing the book with a sudden disinterest. If he were the male lead, he wouldn’t have been laying in a pool for target practice. Maybe being a superhero teaches you how to avoid being easy bait for all your enemies, or maybe Gatsby was too carried away with love to think straight. 

Fighting crime gives you insurmountable experience with sneaking around, but it wasn’t something he could just teach to anyone. When he gets this horrible gut feeling that something’s happened to you, he just knew something was wrong. He might not be easy to catch, but for anyone else? Definitely.  

For everyone else, prom was a month away, but for you, it was three weeks of talking to your advisor and president, arguing with your other board members, and sitting behind that damn money box for another five days to sell tickets. For you, it was realizing that you were supposed to buy streamers and balloons yesterday on your way home from school. It was the thinly veiled disappointment in your board member’s texts when they told you they were at a loss for words. ‘I’m sorry, and I know you’re busy, but how could you forget? Prom is so important for all of us. What if they don’t have what you need anymore?’ It all repeated in your head as you bit your lip in frustration and slipped on the first pair of shoes you could find. Although it was dark and dangerous, you could care less if it meant avoiding the passive aggressive comments you’d get tomorrow during your meeting.

There it is again: that little tendency to not pay attention to your surroundings. 

You yelp when you feel someone grabbing your wrist and pulling you in, muffling your screams as he pulls you along. To see him on the news was worrying, but to see Spark in person with your life on the line is even worse. 

Tears spring to your eyes as you struggle against the metal to no avail, and you curse every previous moment you spent worrying about balloons rather than your safety.

Spark suddenly stops, shoving you against the wall before his hand grabs a brick with his metal arm, beginning to climb. “Don’t let go.” And you don’t think twice before holding on.

The city view would be beautiful if you weren’t hearing your heartbeat in your ears or if you weren’t dangling from the railing of some company building, trying to wiggle yourself free of the rope around your wrists. 

Spark speaks up, drumming his fingers on the railing next to you. “You wouldn’t happen to know where your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is, would you?” And you furrow your eyebrows, genuinely questioning for a moment if he really knew how the superhero operated. 

A voice from across the street puts a temporary hold on your thoughts, and you glance up to see a flash of blue and red soaring through the air, followed by a groan and a beam of light next to you. Seeing Spark’s powers right in front of you spurs you into action, yanking at the rope and trying to take tiny steps away from where they were fighting.

“From what I’m seeing, you wanted to hold someone hostage because you’re not feeling too good, huh?” Spider-Man shouts as he shoots out webs and blocks hits. You shake your head in partial disbelief of how unserious he is, but also how unbelievable all of this seems. “You tried to take a potion or something? I’m going to tell you this now, but these usually don’t work.” 

Riki’s assumption is right, and considering how Spark now has a leg and arm from metal instead of just the arm, the procedure for the additional limb couldn’t have been easy. The superhero still proceeds with caution, making sure to pay attention to anything new as he dodges and fights back. 

The villain immediately gets back up, stumbling for a moment before he regains his stance and runs towards the boy. You hear the clanging of fist hitting metal from their fight, and considering the difference in height and build, you’d expect Spider-Man to be easily flung to the side, but he holds his weight in battle. 

Riki aims for around the left shoulder, where an abundance of stitches cover the skin and fuse the metal into muscle. He lands a hit, and almost another one, before a punch to the side knocks him from his momentum. The boy wheezes when his back makes instant contact with the ground, rolling and getting up before Spark has time to shoot. 

He notices how quickly the gadget generates electricity now. Before, the beams took longer, and were easily predictable, but now, it glows bright for a moment before it fires directly in Riki’s path. The boy dodges the first, but the second one almost hits the top of his head before he ducks and creates distance. 

From the roof-top, Riki scans his surroundings before making the split-second decision to jump. 

He swings to the other side of the building, keeping you in his peripheral vision as he works on apprehending the villain in front of him. They spring into yet another fist fight, with Riki’s agility easily letting him avoid punches and land precise hits to make the previous injuries even worse. 

You think Spider-Man has the upper hand in this, seeing as how none of Spark’s punches seem to slow down the superhero, but you hear something loud before you can register it. 

You figure out what happened after Riki stumbles and suffers a blow to the stomach, sending him tumbling to the edge of the building. Spark knew that Spider-Man was avoiding his left arm—he knew that one wrong move paired with the tungsten material would have a lasting effect on the superhero’s fist. 

Riki coughs from the impact before his spidey-sense rings, pulling him back into battle as he runs as fast as his body can take him. 

You. He still needs to save you. 

With renewed vigor, he continues to avoid the flying sparks as he ducks between structures and uses the terrain to his advantage. He can tell, though, that the villain is slowing down. The shots are less accurate–a telltale sign that the enhancer Spark tried is working against him. 

Between all of the chaos, Riki finally lands a proper web, yanking as hard as he can to pull Spark to the ground. He stumbles, grasping at thin silk before Riki lets go on his side. The villain’s balance is off, giving the boy an advantage as he closes the distance, hopping over a thrown slab of metal and landing a solid kick into Spark’s ribcage. As he stays down, Riki continues to aim for muscle and flesh, his head spinning as he packs punch after punch to keep the villain apprehended. 

Spark’s body–curled into itself to absorb the hits the best that he can– hides the growing blue flash that he’s slowly charging up with his remaining power. The moment it escapes from under his abdomen, Riki directs his efforts towards avoiding the electric glimmer. The villain rolls over, his body tattered from the consistent injuries, and he fires what seems like an intense bullet of energy. It zips by the boy’s cheek, cutting the mask and leaving blood to run down in its wake. Time slows down as the superhero tries to process the unlocked speed of the burst, and Spark loses focus marveling at his new abilities. Never before had either of them seen power so concentrated, and it inflicts both fear and excitement. 

He lifts his arm, the other holding it up for support, and Spider-Man notices the fizzle of bright blue. Riki’s about to jump out of the way, preparing for yet another high-speed bullet, but before Spark fires, something clicks. The arm doesn’t directly point to Riki–but it skews off to the right.

Except, he’s no longer aiming for Riki in the split second that the boy blinks. He’s suddenly aiming at you, where your hands are tied to the railing and your feet are dangling from the bent metal that holds you precariously over the edge, leaving a fifty foot drop in its wake. When you see the blue energy in the villain’s palm growing slowly bigger, you pull at the rope desperately with zero regard to the tender rawness of your wrists. 

In your attempt to somehow break the rope, your cry of fear snaps Spider-Man into action. 

Riki pushes his sore body to jump as quick as he can, leaping across the rooftop to the building over. He easily avoids the metal railing, grabbing onto your arm as he yanks hard on the rope, the force of it separating a piece of metal from the railing. He immediately jumps, sending out a web to swing him back up. It all happens in a flash–first, you were bound to the edge about to fall to your death, and all of a sudden, you’re tightly pressed against Spider-Man’s chest with your bound wrists still attached to the metal. Shutting your eyes, you trust Spider-Man entirely, closing your eyes to avoid seeing just how far up you were. Wind rushes in your ears and leaves your stomach fluttering with butterflies until the superhero sets you down on a secluded rooftop. 

“Please,” he begs, “don’t leave. I’ll be right back.” 

You’d be a fool to do anything but wait. 

Riki checks on you one last time before diving down, springing himself back up with another web. The damage from the blasts is recognizable even from far away, and yet, he notices the reflective shine of a metal arm on the edge of the building before Spark lets go. 

To Riki, Spark is dead after dropping from a fall having taken that much damage, but he hears no impact. Making haste, the boy fails to find any figure no matter how hard he looks, but Spark’s laboratory has to be here somewhere. The badge from a week ago was stuck on Riki’s mind, and he could only imagine the reasons why he pursued this life. Was he recreating something? If he needs to power some sort of machine, then the heart of the city is a perfect place to harness the electricity for any large scale project. As much as he wants to dedicate the rest of the night to searching the city for some sort of clue, the fact that you’re still stranded on that rooftop after having just experienced a life-changing event blares like an alarm in his mind. 

He quickly leaves, returning to where you’re seated.

Without the fear of falling to your death from earlier, you were able to focus on undoing the knots from the rope. Red scratch marks and irritation bloom on your wrist, and the reality of it all happening still hasn’t settled in. Despite not being harmed once, the fear and incessant pounding of your heart overwhelms your senses, and it leaves you heaving with confusion. 

A pair of footsteps only become apparent as Riki walks closer, taking a seat beside you and letting out a large sigh. He stares at the stars silently as if he doesn’t have a cut on his cheek and bruises waiting to paint his skin purple–as if he isn’t hiding his true self under a facade. 

“You’re not hurt, are you?” You shake your head, grateful that Spider-Man was the reason you got away without a real injury.

“Thank you, really, for saving me. I don’t know how you manage to do it.” 

Riki chuckles under the mask. “Eh, you get used to it,” you hear Spider-Man say. “You fight a couple bad guys, get over a fear of heights and eventually you get the hang of things.” 

Scoffing, you gently rub at your wrists to ease the redness. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t been taught a crash course on how to avoid being supervillain bait just yet.” 

“Maybe you should learn it sometime,” Riki responds absentmindedly, “someone like you shouldn’t have been out so late doing whatever it could’ve been.” 

Sighing, your mind drifts off to think about the balloons and streamers that are not in your hand. “I had stuff for my upcoming events.” 

He knew about all of it when you’d explain your cryptic reminders and notes on your computer, but he still feigns curiosity. “What upcoming events?” 

“Just prom,” and he hears just how strained it makes you. 

Riki tilts his head in faux confusion. “What do you have to do for prom?” 

He notices how you immediately slump, as if the mere mention of prom deflates your happiness. “It’s only a few weeks away, and I was supposed to get decorations for our venue yesterday. I just wanted to slip out before my parents noticed.” 

Despite the fabric over his eyes, Riki’s expression shifts from surprise to pity when he understands your stakes. “You still need to be careful. Is your student council strict?” 

“Not strict necessarily, but judgemental–I ran for the position because I thought I could help my school raise funds and find more opportunities, but it just feels like no one truly wants to try anything new.” You wave it off as if it’s not that important, as if it isn’t the reason why you find yourself stressed so often. “I just don’t want to disappoint or give people something to talk about.” 

Despite not being involved with school the same way you are, the boy next to you resonates with the fear you currently face. The fear of letting people down was a large part of why Riki continued to put on that mask and step into the most dangerous situation of his life; he never wanted to sit down to hear the news that Spider-Man quit. 

So he keeps doing his job, even if some days are harder and some fights aren’t worth winning–just like what you do. 

“Yeah, I get that,” he tries to console, “You must be doing a lot for everyone around you, and I’m sure a lot of people appreciate what you’ve done. Don’t beat yourself up too much, yeah? You’ll always have me.” He smiles, but he knows you don’t see it. You’re looking at the stars, trying to calm your mind and return to your life before everything happened. 

You glance over at Spider-Man, wondering if he’ll truly be around for you when you need it. “If I need to talk to you, should I step out of my house past 8PM again?” 

Riki chuckles, watching clouds slowly dim the moon’s glow in their path. “If I’m not fighting crime, I’ll show up at a moment’s notice.” 

There’s no way he means it, but you grin, feeling a lot of the pressure and stress of earlier slowly wash away. After all, nothing happened to you–Spider-Man made sure of it. Maybe things really were going to be okay. 

“Let’s get you home, yeah? Don’t you have stuff to do anyways?” 

You shrug, nothing really coming to mind. As you get up, you remember having to run a plagiarism check on your work, and how Riki told you to text him when you got home after your student government meeting. 

Riki. Spark. Spider-Man. 

“Wait,” you tell Spider-Man, sitting back down on the cement, “I need to talk to you about something else, too.” 

“It’s not like my dinner’s getting cold,” the superhero mumbles quiet enough that you can’t hear. 

“There’s this guy,” you start, paying no mind to how dirty your clothes are getting when you cross your legs. 

Spider-Man scoffs, looking off into the distance, and it makes you believe he has to be your age or older. “You have a crush on him, or something?” And a whole tidal wave of deja vu hits you in the chest. 

‘He must be badly hurt’ isn’t just something people say. People don’t just draw insanely detailed drawings of Spark’s arm and machines without notes to follow unless they knew. People wouldn't just randomly miss school without any impending signs. You’re sure of it–the tired naps in class, the random drawings of superheroes and superhumans alike, or how awkward he could act–it all makes sense.

Your classmate, aka Nishimura Riki, aka the guy who you’ve questioned if you had a crush on for the past few days, might be a villain. 

The swirling feeling of trepidation in your stomach leaves three words running around your head. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Although you tried so hard to stop thinking about it, Jake’s comment from before rubbed you the wrong way. It was sometime last week where you couldn't get your mind off of the implications of his words, but that feeling was brushed underneath your responsibilities. 

Until now. 

“Yeah, there’s this guy,” you breathe, feeling your chest constrict, “Nishimura Riki. I think he’s Spark.” 

His blood runs cold. 

“You think this…why?” 

You take a deep breath, trying to organize all your thoughts. “Well, first, it was his friend, Jake. He said that Riki was badly hurt, and I was really confused at first, but tried to let it go.” 

Riki was going to strangle his best friend. 

“And then, I was looking at him in class, right? And keep in mind, he’s pretty cute, and we sit next to each other, so I just noticed how good his hair looked that day, but his notebook was out, and I saw all these drawings of Spark. Like, the arms, the metal things, even the projectiles! Who would know the ins and outs of that thing if it wasn’t Spark himself?”

He didn’t know what to think about first; the fact that you gushed about him for the first time, or if he should even tell you that Spider-Man would know those things, too. 

“And sometimes, I notice he’s a little awkward around me. I can’t explain it. It’s like he’s paying attention to me. That must’ve been why he captured me.” He wants to laugh at how damn close you are to figuring it out, but in reality, nothing is funny about the situation. 

Nishimura Riki is actually listening to this, right now, as Spider-Man–not Spark. The awkwardness, though? It was his crush on you, and was not superhuman related in the slightest.  

“I don’t know,” he attempts to divert, pretending to focus, “I saw a badge for FLiGHT. You know the company that’s been making time traveling machines? I saw a glimpse of his name and face. It’s not that guy you mentioned.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “And you haven’t gotten him caught?” 

“Villains aren’t easy to find, y’know. It’s not like playground hide and seek,” Riki defends, crossing his arms. 

You shrink in your spot, feeling sheepish for questioning a superhero so bluntly. 

“Plus,” he continues, “Spark has never had a hostage. Wouldn’t it be pretty mean of that friend of yours to kidnap a girl from his class?” 

“Yeah—that makes sense. Thank god,” you breathe, closing your eyes momentarily. “Then what do you suspect all that evidence leads to? Maybe he’s a secret agent?” 

“I think,” Riki continues to keep up his clueless facade, “Your friend might just be clumsy. Or creative. I mean, maybe he went through a break-up?” Nice one, Riki. 

You shake your head. “No, there’s no way he has a girlfriend. You’d think I like guys who are taken?” Scoffing lightly, you then remembered that Spider-Man really would have no idea who any of you are. 

He shrugs and stands up stretching before motioning for you to follow him. “I have no idea what you high school kids do. Come on, let’s get you home.” 

As you hug him tight, the cold air whips around your body and leaves goosebumps in their wake. You barely open your eyes from the fear of seeing yourself inches from hitting a building or up in the air. Spider-Man only yells his confirmation after asking how to get you home, finally placing you on the ground outside of your large gate. 

“Thank you for saving me tonight.”

“Anytime. Figure things out with that friend of yours, and don’t go out late, okay?” You nod and take his words to heart. 

“Goodnight, Spiderman.” 

—-

Nishimura might die. One, because he has this horrible guilty feeling in his stomach, and two, because of a villain. 

Yesterday, he ignored the salmon and rice bowl that waited for him back at home, choosing to follow the coordinates he saved on his phone after he took you home. It led him to a seemingly harmless auto-shop, with an arrow on his GPS pointing to a garage that was shut down completely with nails and blocked with boxes. The exterior pointed to it being abandoned, but Riki suddenly saw some light coming from a makeshift above.

The boy scaled the wall as quietly as possible, glancing into the source of the whirring. He caught small glimpses of something–metal, glowing, blue. 

Or at least, for a few seconds it was on until the power went out. 

The voice that complained from inside the room sounded identical to the man Riki fought. Spark grumbled, turning on a flashlight and quickly waving it around. Riki ducked from the window and held his breath, waiting for the man to suspect something. 

Nothing. 

One lightbulb slowly flickered back on, and then the other dingy light followed. The space was cramped with the metal equipment in the middle, resembling what Riki had seen in the news. 

He was right–it was the same time travel portal that was ruined from a few months ago. 

Spider-Man continued to observe the man as he worked and drilled, plugging certain wires or pausing momentarily to read from a journal. To anyone, it’d seem peaceful, like some sort of renovation project. But in reality, it was so much more than that. 

Riki searched for any sort of information about the machine, trying to see what exactly was left to do until his gaze landed on something. 

There was some sort of date on a bright pink sticky-note, and Riki’s eyes widened when he finally comprehends it. 

The machine was scheduled to be completed tomorrow. 

-

A street lamp next to Riki dies out—which was a clear sign that something was powering up. From the dark, he hears the metal from the same place as last night moving again, and he knows that Spark has left. His presence sends anyone down the street and immediately running, leaving the area for only them two. 

Riki finally sees the completed metal build. Half of his body is wrapped in or replaced with metal parts as he sets down the metal portal, beginning to push it in the direction of the power plant. 

A truck or car would make things much easier, but whatever.

Riki wants to cry from fear and run away. He wants to leave and pretend he never saw anything from last night. 

He’s going to die fighting Spark and he will quite literally a) never finish highschool and get that stupid diploma, b) finish explaining how Gatsby is not a good person and is naturally selfish, and c) he’s never going to tell you how he’s had a small crush on you ever since he saw your cute campaign video as to why you should vote y/n l/n for student body treasurer last spring. 

“You sure that thing works?” Riki asks, jumping into action as he sends webs to immobilize the machine. 

“You’re annoying, you know that?” Spark sends a projectile in the superhero’s direction, hitting the wall behind him instead as Riki jumps out of the way.

With another duck mid-air and the roof of a flying car dangerously close to his nose, Riki thanks the dance practice he does for his flexibility as he shoots another web and swings away. 

Spark is uncontrollable by now, sucking the light from street lamps and fizzing wires in his wake. He has no idea how he’s supposed to get in contact with the villain like before. The body of his suit fizzes with bright electricity that sizzles and pops. It illuminates Spark’s figure, making him easy to spot, but not so easy to defeat. It’s an overload of power, causing the voltage to escape between the joints and gaps of the metal pieces in his suit. And Riki can feel it; the air is heightened and so are the stakes of this fight—and with how the man that stands in front of him looks upgraded and menacing, he knows only one person can make it out of this fight alive. 

“You injected the city’s ‘Gas and Electric’ into your system or what?” Riki calls out, making light of the situation. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s scared out of his wits seeing the six foot figure with blue and white shooting from every crack, looking like a nightmare to touch.

Riki avoids a few more angrily thrown objects, using the momentum of his jump from the side of the building to zip from the top of a yellow fire hydrant to go from one side of the street to the other. “You’re slow!” He taunts, tucking in his legs to avoid a shot of electricity directed at him. 

The screech of metal from the nearby hydrant can be heard as the top flings off, making Riki lose his anchor/ Before he can process it, instead of smoothly landing on the building, he crashes into it faster than expected, groaning when his back makes contact with the glass and he tumbles into the living room of someone’s apartment. 

“Fuck,” he curses, fighting his aching limbs to get up once more. 

And the solution hits him. Literally. 

When he steps out and quickly attaches a web to the top of the building, he’s met on the way up with a splash of water from the hydrant to his face, and Riki splutters as he wipes his mask, regaining focus as he lands on the concrete and hides behind the ledge. 

Water. If he can get it in contact with Spark and pour enough water on the right spot, the excess of electricity blazing from his mechanical body should work against him. 

“Too scared? You should know better than to run away.” The superhero rolls his eyes, crawling away silently to avoid being seen by Spark. Riki does his best to look around for something, and finds a black flower pot in the corner, using a web to grab it before he scales the side of the building and runs away while Spark is distracted as the villain also climbs the wall to face him there. But when Spark climbs the ledge and scans the premise, Riki is nowhere to be seen. 

Instead, Riki swings across the street and fills the pot with water, heaving the extra weight as he shouts out from the sudden pain in his side. He stumbles on the pavement, crying out from the injury as the pot falls with his whole plan. 

Maybe this is where Spider-Man dies. 

He sucks in a deep breath before rolling from his back onto his knees, ignoring the wound to pick up the flower pot. The hydrant still shoots out water, and the superhero rushes towards it, causing Spark to follow. He narrowly avoids another shot from behind him, reaching the yellow hydrant before dropping the pot on the ground. Spark is th 

While Spark has always been intelligent, Riki could tell that the man didn’t fear the water, believing he’d be invincible to the elements now that his suit was perfected. There was something off, Riki could tell, and he would make sure to use it to his advantage. Spark was uncontrolled, and his powers drastically decreased the more he used them. There’s no way his body isn’t in overdrive with how recklessly he’s been letting himself get hurt. 

Riki uses a web to get himself on higher ground instead of fighting, waiting for the supervillain to follow. If he could get Spark off the edge and fall into the growing puddle of water, it should slow him down. 

Spark scoffs. “Run away, then. Like you always have.” Riki hears the wall crumbling under the villain as he climbs within seconds, immediately preparing to fight when he makes it onto the rooftop. But Spider-Man was also prepared, jumping from his crouched hiding position and attempting to catch Spark off guard. 

All he can focus on now is pushing him off. There’s no way it’d be easy, considering he had to focus on his touching any of the electricity off of his suit. Riki delivers a kick to Spark in the ribcage near his heart, where he’s fused metal into flesh. The villain coughs before taking a step back, his metal arm reaching for Riki’s outstretched leg. He grabs it, twisting with anger before the boy meets the ground in a violent throw. Not only is the slam greater because of the enhanced strength, but the power seeps into Riki’s skin, leaving it hot from the energy radiating off of his palm. 

The boy groans, flipping to his side to avoid a fatal hit to the chest. He reaches for Spark’s normal arm, swinging the villain’s body away with as force as he could to create distance between them. 

Riki has been in enough fights to simply know when to run, even if he doesn’t know what’s coming. He could feel the tingle of the charge as it powered up, and with its energy so unrestrained and its user so unstable, the large attempt to hit Riki sends the villain stumbling back from the force. The more Spark uses his powers, the more likely he’s going to end up dead. 

“Your skin can handle that anymore!” he shouts, getting ready to swing himself closer as a plan manifests itself in his head. “You’ll die like this!” 

Spark seems to know that too as he wipes his mouth and recovers from Riki’s attacks. 

“You think I care?” He shouts, desperately pressing his wounds to stop the bleeding. “You think I have anything else for myself?” The vulnerability of his character shines through as he clutches his bleeding wound without regenerative powers to help. “You think I didn’t know that when I did it to myself--what they did to me?” 

Riki doesn’t respond, grimacing as he continues hand-to-hand combat. Although he takes a solid punch to his jaw that’s forming a deep purple bruise, he manages to trip Spark onto the ground.

The man stumbles back from the head injury, the pounding from earlier not letting him to think straight. Riki doesn’t try to injure him anymore, but he instead blocks an incoming punch and tries to force Spark towards the edge. 

The villain barely notices how much space there is left, and the boy lunges with full force. They tackle each other into the ground, and Riki gets off after apprehending him once more. 

The city's a mess, and Spider-Man’s eyes want to shut down so badly, but he takes a few steps in Spark’s direction, pushing him off the side of the building as quickly as he can. Riki hears the thud before he peeks over the edge, seeing the water erode all of the engineering from the machinery. He slowly descends from the rooftop. 

“You were in the accident, huh?” Riki shouts on top of the plethora of sounds. Pain, buzzing electricity, splashes of water as he lands next to Spark; it all echoes in his ears as he pours the water from the pot on Spark’s body. “Why did you try it? Why did you want to go back so bad?”

“If I could go back,” Spark coughs, trying to get away from the large pool of water, “I could’ve prevented the accident from taking the lives of the people around me. I could’ve saved them.” 

Spider-Man understands loss, and he understands the regret that comes with failure. He understands how the man in front of him feels after having everything taken away from him, but his emotions could never justify his actions. 

“You know you can’t change things,” Riki responds, “You tried your best, Spark.” It’s the last thing Riki tells the villain before his body slumps and police sirens grow louder and louder. It’s the last thing that he continues to think about, even if the medic quickly assesses the severity of his wounds. 

“I’m fine- really,” he pushes away the hands of a concerned woman as she holds a roll of bandages. “There’s something else I need to do.” 

Riki knew he had to tell you about this–he couldn’t just let you confide in him about..well, him, without your knowledge. And Riki wasn’t morally perfect, but he knew an explanation would be the only way to fix things.

Your house looks different when jumping over the fence instead of standing in front of it. When he realizes he has no idea what room belongs to you, he racks his brain, suddenly remembering how yours was the only one with a gray balcony over the pool. And so he climbs, slipping from the exhaustion creeping into his body. 

You’ll understand after he explains everything, right? 

“____, a little help?” And what the fuck is Nishmura Riki doing outside of your door? You go to investigate the muffled sound, inching towards the curtains and pulling them back to expect him there. When you hear a half yelp and a hissing sound that follows right after, without a person anywhere in sight, your heart drops to its stomach. 

Do not say it’s true. 

“Riki, where the fuck are you?” you ask, traversing out when you don’t see him anywhere across the glass. 

“Down here.” You run in the direction of the voice, and your eyes grow comically large and you gasp, staring down at the sight before you. 

“Holy shit.” 

There Nishimura Riki is, with his mask half burned off his face and his blonde and black hair messy and matted to his forehead with sweat. The suit is ripped in multiple locations with gashes and purple replacing the healthy skin underneath. His face is in more of a grimace, as he holds onto the web with both hands and one foot planted on the stone of your balcony—read; the bottom of your balcony. 

“A little help?” And you see his sheepish emotion through the tattered fabric, embarrassed after you had to find him in such a compromising situation. “I’m a little worn out and I think my webs are getting weaker.”

You’re a little frustrated with him for being out so publicly, but more scared and worried for his condition. Your gaze narrows on the mask, tattered and covered with scratches, but clearly visible. It was Spider-Man’s mask. The material gives way to a familiar face, and your mind almost blocks you from putting the pieces together. It’s impossible, almost horrifying to think of the implications of what it means to wear the blue and red suit. 

Instead of being the villain, Riki is, in fact, the savior.

The harsh truth is that your classmate, who you spent the last month working on a project with and suspected was a villain, is the same superhero that went out and risked his life every night fighting crime. It’s jarring to see him like this, breathing heavy and straining against the stone of the balcony, and his cough snaps you out of it. “What the fuck do I do?” 

Riki tries to put his hand up in surrender and shuts his eyes at your harsh tone. “Okay, okay, I get-“ and he cuts himself off with a yelp as his footing slips. 

He holds out his hand, and you immediately bend over the smooth railing to grab it, leaning back on the heels of your feet to help him up the most that you can. You’re filled with confusion when the boy hobbles over the cool surface of the balcony and lets his head rest on the stone, not saying much as he catches his breath. You watch the rise and fall of his chest and how his right arm goes to nurse the left side of his ribcage, wincing and sucking in a pained breath as he assesses the smear of red on his fingers. 

Sitting there with your mouth agape, you’re not really sure what to think about first; to check if RIki’s alright, to think about how your city’s greatest superhero is your English project partner, to yell at him for going to your house instead of his house to fix himself up, or to think about how good his side profile looks in the moonlight. Maybe you should’ve just been relieved that the boy you started to like wasn’t a fear-inducing villain.

“Okay, first of all, we need to have a huge talk. But I’m not a medic Riki- I’m going into accounting for fuck’s sake.” He hears the amount of curses flying from your lips as you ramble, and sees how stressed you look watching him sit against your railing. 

“I don’t know how to help you. And also,” you lower your voice and scoot closer, looking around at the large property to really make sure no one’s listening. “you’re Spider-Man?” 

The information all hitting you at once is worse than when your history teacher told you your essay was horrible. At least then, in her office, you could process everything. But here? You’re about to faint. 

“I’m pretty cool, huh?” And of course Nishimura Riki says such a thing, taking deep breaths as he shallowly presses on the blossoming bruises on his skin and wipes the sweat from his brow. 

“Pretty fucking stupid is what it is, Riki.” You cross your arms and try to take a look at where he’s been hurt, hoping that at least he has some sort of regeneration ability that helps him heal much quicker—because there’s no way he could deal with all of this on top of school. 

“I have my reasons,” he says, his voice quiet. 

You pause. “For being Spider-Man?” 

“No,” he shakes his head. “For coming here.”

“What could possibly make you want to come over to my house instead of the nearest hospital? What’s that important to you?”

“I really want to ask you to prom.” 

You simply stare at him, surprised. 

“You came to my house, even though you’re like, a punch away from passing out, to ask me out? And you couldn’t have, I don’t know, asked me anytime during the classes we have together?”

Riki somehow finds it in himself to frown and shrink from your angry piercing gaze. “I can’t because talking to you makes me nervous–so yeah, I’m sorry I’m half conscious on your balcony in my suit instead of at your door with a poster.” 

You’re conflicted, your mind still reeling from the recent discovery and your flood of emotions. Ever since you questioned his identity on top of your feelings for him, you had a hard time really knowing if you could like Riki if he turned out to be a villain, so to know that he proved both of your theories wrong leaves you quiet as you think. If possible, the color in the boy’s face drains even more when you go back inside, but the door stays open, and he thinks he hasn’t ruined things after all. You emerge with a bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a bowl of warm water, and a pristine white towel. 

“I’m not mad about that, you idiot,” you reprimand him, setting everything down as you examine the cuts on his face. You squeeze the towel and start to dab at his skin, avoiding the cuts as you clean it. “Who does this for you if not me?” 

“Jake.” 

“Seems like a pretty good friend.” Riki nods in response. 

 “I’m sorry,” he sighs, sitting up to properly address you, even if you weren’t able to meet his gaze. 

“For what?”

“For putting this on you–all of it. Not just the whole Spider-Man thing.” He knew he’d have to tell you at some point, or else it’d eat him up inside to know he kept all of it from you. 

“Look at you, saving me mid-air and talking to me as if you didn’t know who I was.”

You notice a flash of regret through his wince as you clean up a cut with antiseptic. “I meant it when I told you I knew what it was like to have a lot of pressure.”

“Guess I wasn’t so far off, then. If we never talked, would you have told me?” Riki shakes his head, and the simple motion leaves you somehow disappointed. 

“How do you ever tell anyone you’re…y’know, Spider-Man?” Even if it’s a hypothetical, you shrug, not being able to answer.

“How’d Jake find out?” 

Riki chuckles and hisses at the same time before trying to remember. “I think I just kicked his window in after a nasty poison got hold of me. He was a little too excited to have Spider-Man on his bedroom floor, and less excited to know it was me. I’m not really supposed to tell anyone, though.”

“Then why’d you tell me? You could’ve just gone back to your friends.” 

“I felt guilty–I know, I know, it sounds stupid. I’d definitely get my identity revealed at this rate.” You shake your head. 

“Not stupid. Keep going.” 

“I didn’t care that you suspected me, or if anyone else did, because I knew it was never true. But I felt so bad knowing you were sharing to me how you felt without even knowing it was me who was listening–like I was holding something from you.” 

You admire his honesty, and when you look at his furrowed brows and his lip that he’s been gnawing from worry, you can’t even imagine what he’s had to hide and do for this. In a way, you look up to him more, for trying his best even if he’s gotten all odds stacked against him. Riki’s commendable in your eyes–he always had been, ever since you woke him up in class. 

“I like those things about you, Riki. That you’re honest with yourself and the people around you as much as you can be, and you try to help others when you can. I’m glad we got to know each other more this past month.” Talking to him feels different than talking to Spider-Man from a few days ago; it feels raw, like you’re not just confessing something to a brick wall anymore. If none of this ever happened, you doubt you’d get the chance to tell Riki any of this properly. 

The boy stays silent, taking deep breaths while processing what you’ve told him. “I’m glad I could help you out.” 

You furrow your eyebrows. “I hope you know I don’t like you because you help me out. I like you because you’re attractive, and because you’re genuine,” you blurt. 

Riki laughs despite his ribcage hurting everytime he does so. Riki nods and mumbles a ‘thank you,’ also glad to truly get to know you. While his crush was more of an infatuation with your hard work and amiability, the past few weeks really opened his eyes to who you were. You never wanted to disappoint, and even if your recklessness left you in some dire situations, Riki could see how much effort you really put into things. 

There wasn’t anything else he needed to tell you–you were smart enough to see how much he cared about you.    

You’re so close, your lips glossy with lip balm as you watch him carefully. You hear and see it all; the heavy, labored breathing from his body healing itself rapidly, and the way his hand is full of rough cuts and calluses as his fingers intertwine with yours. But your eyes catch a glimpse of his mask tossed to the side, the blue shining in the corner of your eyes as you’re reminded of who he is right now, and what role you play. You are still ____ ____, but he’s a superhero.

It makes you momentarily forget whose suit you're peeling away, whose skin you're cleaning. It reminds you that he’s just the boy in your English class that you fell for. “What does that make us?”

“Prom-goers,” he answers with a slight nod. 

You smile, wiping a cut before placing the towel back into the bowl for the last time and getting up. “We can be prom-goers, yeah.” 

You’re not sure if you’re ready for anything, and you’re thankful that he understands that, too. As much as it warmed your heart to see him again and hear his confessions, the blaring truth still hangs over your head. You grab his mask, finally looking at him before handing it back and grabbing your things. His secret identity wasn’t something you could just ignore. 

“Go home, Spider-Man,” you turn your back on him, and time slows when you falter before sparing him one more look. “I want you as Riki, not like this.” 

MAYBE NISHIMURA RIKI DOESN'T NEED TO DIE–OR ALMOST DIE–ANYMORE. 

He went home that night with his scars somewhat cleaned and his bruises miraculous healing on their own, and even if slipping through the window left him clutching his side in pain, Riki silently jumped up to celebrate his multiple victories before slipping out of his suit and finally getting some rest. 

Riki’s scared of how he’s affected your relationship. He’s worried you’ll avoid him in the halls, and he’s worried you’d never want to see him again after putting you through all of it. As much as he'd understand how upset you'd be towards him, he hopes he did the right thing by telling you.

But you see him on your way to English, and you call his name. His eyes search for yours in the crowds, and you two see each other before you crush him in a hug. 

Riki isn’t sure how to feel at first, but eventually wraps his arms around you as relief settles in his stomach. 

“Thank you for saving me, Spider-Man,” you whisper, loud enough for only him to hear. 

He smiles at you, ruffling your hair as you go to English together. “Anytime, ____.” 

NEVERMIND, NISHIMURA RIKI MIGHT DIE WHEN HE SEES YOU IN YOUR RED PROM DRESS.

But first, he has to try something out. 

He curses to himself when silently zipping from a tree outside your family property to the top of your house, staring past the ledge two and luxurious stories to your well decorated porch light and door. He just prays that Google Maps is  right about how secluded the area is, so no one can see him pacing around your rooftop, with flowers elegantly wrapped in his hand (courtesy of your mother’s sleek envelope from a few days ago). 

“Fuck it,” he says to himself, shooting a web and dangling himself down. Riki’s upside down figure watches swirled window frames and meticulously designed accents as he descends, and he wonders what kind of shady business your parents could’ve done to afford something so grand. 

He faces your door—hanging down instead of rightside up, but he’s still here on time like he promised. 

The door opens at 6:00PM like he instructed you to, but what he didn’t tell you what to do was shriek and slam the door. On his nose. With a loud yelp, Riki clutches his nose, rubbing the spot you hit and trying to apply pressure to alleviate the pain. 

When the door slowly creaks open again, you face with the image of Nishimura Riki, aka your boyfriend, aka your English partner, aka Spider-Man, curled upside down in the fetal position as he cradles the sore spot on his face and swings slightly from the breeze. 

“You scared me, dumbass! How was I supposed to know it was you? It was so hard to see!” 

Although muffled, Riki’s able to mumble, “You have a porch light for this reason, _____,” and a jab at his stomach from you follows his sarcastic remark. Finally, his nose feels better, and he straightens out to finally look at you. 

Pretty, pretty, pretty, and the boy wonders how you look even more stunning with a glittering red dress and perfectly done make-up. “I like the red,” he says, trying not to freak out over your beauty. “Reminds me of a certain neighborhood superhero.” 

“I have some blue spider earrings to match.” With a beautiful smile, you turn to show him the little accent, and it melts his heart. “Are you okay, though?”

“I’m fine. I should’ve probably put more thought into that.” 

You snicker, sliding into your heels and closing the door behind you. 

“One of us is better at romantic gestures, it seems.” It warrants a scoff, and Riki brings a gloved hand to poke at your forehead teasingly.

“Let me have a do-over, then?” And the way your lips curl up into a bright smile leaves him quiet and in awe. 

“What, were you going to kiss me? Very original, Spider-Man.” With the way the fabric shifts over his features, you can tell he’s pouting. 

“I thought girls liked this.” 

You shrug, pretending you aren’t swept off his feet by the effort he’s put in. Taking a step in his direction, your hands reach up to gently pull the mask over his chin, ears, and then his nose. 

Whispering quietly, you ask, “You’ve kissed other girls upside down?” 

Riki’s quick to shake his head. “You’re the only girl I’d withstand a head rush for.” And god, you just can’t stop yourself from grinning at his sweet, genuine words.

You lean in, placing a small kiss on his nose as a silent apology. Then, you close your eyes and lean into him once more, feeling his hands carefully holding the side of your head and his lips on yours. Your kiss with Riki is saccharine and slow, making you pull away when the urge to beam at him is too much. Your cheeks definitely hurt by how romantic he’s being, and you can’t resist kissing him once more.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he starts, finally letting himself down, “It feels weird.” 

“You ruined the moment.” And he really didn’t, but you enjoy his subtle reactions to your light digs at him. 

“Whatever.” Riki laughs. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” 

You nod, sitting down on the porch and dragging a manicured nail over your lips with the ghost of his affections, thinking about how you literally just kissed Spider-Man. 

Riki comes back, dusting off his suit and smoothing out the wrinkles, with a large bouquet of red roses and one blue one snuck in there. Your lips stretch into a grin and you accept the bouquet, keeping a mental note to read the card in there.

“You never cease to amaze me, Riki.” It’s the last thing you mutter to the air before you loop your arms around his neck, urging him to lean down as you kiss him once more—this time rightside up, but still as sickly saccharine as the one before it. Your heart is fuzzy with fondness and your eyes glitter with adoration. 

“So, which kiss was better?” he asks when you pull away, a little breathless and dizzy.

You swat his arm and walk past the gates, seeing the sleek limo waiting by the curb. “I don’t know, Spider-Man. Maybe show up in your suit and we’ll try it again.” 

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED AND ALWAYS READ!

RIKI FIC DONE!!!! ngl y/n u were right there how did u not know riki was spiderman but whatever idc she's a hard worker not smart LMFOAOAO. my first ever action fic so i hope you enjoy! also i hate the ‘oh he pined after her for 4 years she liked him for 2 months’ bs because I WAS IN IT. and it sucks so i tried to deviate from it :)

꣑ৎ permanent fic taglist (TAGGED IN TEASERS, FICS, HEADCANNONS, DRABBLES, ETC.): @dimplewonie @minleeeknow @heeheesang @mintpjzroll @llvrhee @firstclassjaylee @in-somnias-world @rairaiblog @suneng @mavlogist @sensitively-taken @sumzysworld @simpjay @moons-v @riksaes @txtari @jungwonscatcus @tya0 @sasfransisco @woorcve @shypen @pinkriki @rikisluv @saranghaohoshi @lilifiedeans @wonmyheart @k1ttyluvr @nikisgfff @ramenoil @laurradoesloveu @lvcky-g1rl-syndr0me @ikeulims @missychiefs1404 @qwonyoung23 @yangjungwonnie @onementally-unstabel-kid @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @blooqz @anormieee hi permies hope u enjoy! kith

[soobnny]

right side of my neck — jeongin x reader ; established relationship (0.6k words)

your touch hater bf just wants to kiss you

happy holidays !!!!!!!!!!!

“Innieeeee.”

He’s falling deaf to your whines, one ear and out the other.

“‘M trying to sleep.” You mumble with sleep-riddled voice, trying to push the boy’s face away from yours.

He isn’t quick to give up.

“And ‘m trying to kiss my girlfriend.”

Jeongin’s someone that rarely craves physical intimacy despite having the most beautiful hands and the most perfect lips.

Not that you minded.

You think it’s endearing how he reserves it for you, in the comfort of baggy clothes and the security of his room.

You can’t help but giggle at him. Your touch-hater boyfriend practically begging to keep kissing you. You should relish in this moment a bit longer.

Because apparently he can’t wait until morning, or at least certainly not when he’ll have to be shaken awake in the early hours of dawn for practices and schedules.

His lips stay attached on your skin, open-mouthed kisses pressed on anywhere he can get access to—cheeks, forehead, lips, chin, neck, lips, shoulder, ear, lips.

“Let me kiss you?” Jeongin leaves a trail just before landing back on your lips, hovering. You don’t know what time it is, but you know it’s past midnight when he’s soft and malleable like this, and begging in slurred vocabulary.

“Please?”

This man is going to kill you one day.

“Okay.”

Your one-word response doesn’t even have time to fizzle out into the air when your boyfriend latches his lips onto yours in an almost neediness.

He’s hazy-eyed, limp-tailed in your arms, and he doesn’t continue down to any more than kissing like he usually does. He knows that you’re tired, so he keeps it at just making out.

It goes on longer than you have the breath for it.

Jeongin allows you the liberty of taking in more air, pulling out to look at the messy plump of your lips, and then your eyes.

He thinks, he should really let you sleep soon.

“One more, promise.”

He whispers, attention span not rich enough to say another word before he’s chasing your lips for the last time. And his hands stay gently at your waist, that it makes you feel warmer than you already do.

Then, when he’s sure he’s kissed you enough to suffice missing your lips during practice, he releases you, and breathes out, “Mkay, you can sleep now. Thanks, baby.”

His fingers hold your body in place that you’re still pressed against him, and it’s really such a delight to witness his droopy eyes and his love-drunk smile and the bashful tint of his cheeks. He dips into your hair, a smile ghosting his lips when he gets a trace of the shampoo he uses.

“Hm, goodnight my Innie.” Your head finds his neck like it’s routine, but he can still hear you mumble against his skin.

“Don’t call me that if you don’t want me to kiss you again.” Jeongin makes a complaining noise, always been weak when you put a possessive determiner before his name.

You can only laugh with your exhaustion.

If any of the boys were to walk in his room, you were sure they’d be surprised at the sight they’d be subjected to. The reminder of their youngest pointedly making attempts to avoid their hugs, just to beg for yours—Han Jisung would throw a tantrum.

(“He must really like her,” Minho says after a chance encounter finding you and Jeongin asleep on the couch.

His hair tickles the skin of your neck at how close he is, and there is a fond smile on Minho’s face at the sight.

“Don’t let Sungie see this.” Felix laughs.)

Jeongin falls asleep before you do. Turns out he wasn’t as awake as you thought he was, but your heart tingles at the thought that he’d spent his last remaining moments of consciousness kissing you.

That, instead of resting to get at least a decent amount of sleep before his schedules, he’d chosen to meet your lips.

“Goodnight, Innie.”

(You let him kiss you again, dumb and needy and soft and knowing, the next evening.)

[from-izzy]

[00:35] | ATEEZ CHOI SAN

“And if I do?”

pairing » ateez choi san x fem!reader

trope/au » established relationship au, non-idol au

genre » very fluffy, falling asleep during studying and boyfriend san who is worried for you because you don't take the greatest care of yourself, (it really was supposed to be fluff all through the end) turns suggestive towards the last quarter of the story, reader is a bit playful, san is very in love with you, of course you are super in love with him too

word count; estimated reading time » 1032; ~4 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » quite suggestive at the end, indeed...a suggestive sentence at the very end, san lifts the reader up, reader wears glasses, reader implied to be smaller than san, san restrains reader's hands, pet names (bubs, baby girl)

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 ateez masterlist 🤍 the boyz lee juyeon ver.

my ateez debut! here it is @jaehunnyy !! i really wanted to post smth for your bday so please take this as a late bday present 😭 thanks for proofreading a bit of this one and finding the pictures for the banners 🥰 you saved me a bunch of tears fr 😀 have fun with the second one (even though it's the same...😭)

It’s not an unusual occurrence for you to be staying up late at night and for San to find you draped over your books and worksheets when he gets home. In fact, it’s becoming such a usual occurrence that San is making it a habit to open the front door with such gentleness that the click of the door opening would be too loud for his liking. In reality, your study desk at your shared apartment is quite a distance from the entrance of the apartment, so if San wanted to, he could enter in the same way as if you were awake.

But he didn’t want to.

In the rare case that you decide to snooze off on the couch, he doesn’t want to be the one to ruin your precious, peaceful sleeping time. Unfortunately for him, he would still be needing to do it one way or another if he ever finds you asleep on the couch or anywhere but your shared bed. The victorious smile from closing the front door quietly soon turns upside down, frowning at the sight of your head lying on your stack of handouts in the study room. The stack acted as your pillow, your arms around the rectangular pile. You look like you have been resting your body for some time now, given that San’s soft head pat didn’t faze you at all. With a slightly heavy sigh, San makes his way to the other side of the desk to get a better look at your face. He kneels on the floor, content with being more at eye level with you. 

He’s surprised to see that you must’ve been so exhausted that taking your glasses off might have been too much effort for you. The side frame completely rests on the paper, the nose pad of the glasses no longer resting properly on your nose. San hisses at how the hard plastic pushes against your nose, already imagining the pain when you wake up and realise tomorrow.

“Bubs,” he tests your consciousness with a whisper. “Your whole body is going to hurt when you wake up, you know?” Your breathing is still as even as before, and the no response from you deepens his frown. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to move you, okay?” 

San rises to his feet once again, grabbing the blanket drapped on your study desk that he has prepared. He’s told you multiple times to at least cover your body if you don’t plan to take a nap on the bed, but he should have known that when tiredness kicks in, all a person wants to do is to close their eyes. San spreads the light cotton across your back, kissing the side of your head and humming sweet melodies to avoid surprising you too much with his movement.

“San?” You slur sleepily, still unable to fully wake up. San clicks your desk light off and soon sees your content smile at his little gesture. “When did you get home?”

“Just a few seconds ago. When did you fall asleep?”

“Just a few minutes ago.” A raised eyebrow from your boyfriend is what prompts you to tell him the truth. “A little longer than that.”

San tuts disapprovingly, “You can’t keep slouching off on the table. It’s not good for your body. And this,” he takes your glasses off by the hinges, “it’s not comfortable for you.”

You hum at his loving lecture for you, beginning to straighten your back from the long nap. Truthfully, if San weren’t beside you right now, you would be sending complaints to your past self for dozing off at the table, your back cramping and sore. But Choi San knows you too well, and the creases between your eyebrows tell him everything.

“See?” He reprimands. 

You’re not given another chance to rebut when he swivels the chair around for you to face him. In a second, you’re in his arms, the back of your knee and back supported securely with his arms, and your shoulder pressed against his chest. San looks down at you, pressing a quick kiss on your forehead that you respond to by pressing yours along his jawline. Along the short walk to the adjacent room, you plant kisses all over his face, giggling at the way his cheeks grow red with every second. 

Just a few seconds before San would rest you gently on the mattress, you steal a kiss from his plump lips, arms wrapped around his nape and threading your fingers into the strands of his hair. San almost stumbles but soon regains balance when he registers the way you delicately take his lips. Along with the giggles and fabric rustling against each other in the small room, it’s not long until your head properly lays on a pillow. San doesn’t let you breathe after, climbing on top of your figure with his palms beside your head to support himself. His knees sink to the mattress beside your thighs, and you’re left breathless with the man before you. The remnants of his cologne are clearer now, and the proximity leaves you curling up a side of your lips.

Your boyfriend knows the meaning of your expression well from experience. “Don’t rile me up, baby girl…”

Just like he did a second ago, your eyebrow rises. Your pointer traces along the center of his exposed neck, feeling the gulp and his intense stare on you. You glide across his skin, tracing along his collarbones slowly, making sure that your touch lingers on his skin. When your finger slides down to the neckline of his fabric, it curls around his shirt to pull his tense expression closer to you. A quick touch of your lips is all you spare him before regaining eye contact with him.

“And if I do?”

Those words are enough for San to lose control, pulling the sheets to his palms as he fists them tightly. One hand leaves the bed, restraining both your wrists under his hold above your head. He dives closer to the crook of your neck, ragged breathing and warm breath against your skin.

“I’ll make sure you’ll sleep peacefully for days.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 ateez masterlist 🤍 the boyz lee juyeon ver.

tags: @k-films @kflixnet @starlit-network @kstrucknet @blossomnet

@haneul-and-clouds @jaehunnyy @mars101

[tyunni]

just us, and your brother... (masterlist)

genre: brother's best friend! riki x reader , fluff , kinda strangers to lovers , smau ! warnings: cursing , kys jokes , sexual jokes here n there but nothing suggestive at all , heeseung is that overprotective brother , riki is INSANELY awkward but that's the whole point...

𝒜uthors note — this is for @boyfhee 's wheel of fortune event, super fun! i had nothing else to post, sorry, but I'll be getting more done after my exams 😭🤗 being a senior is HARD...

©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!

taglist: @geombyu @junityy @uygmoeb @sunghun @eternallyhyucks @pshjae @marknaeroni @feyregels @neos127 @koishua @echo-of-a-writer @w3bqrl @duolingofanaccount @goldenhypen @sungniverse @hittoki @acciomylove @soobin-chois @anik-4 @yjwfav @ja4hyvn @ddeonubaby @deafeningballoonnacho @squiishymeow @odxrilove @iyeonjuni @nyaforniki @kittyeji @pinkyyyujin @addictedtothesummernights @love-4-keum @luveill @enhastolemyheart @kpop-kitkat @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @str4b3rizz @solvgume @nishislcve @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @letmein2urheart (bold means i can’t mention you, if you want to be a part of my taglist fill this out!!)

[valkyriexo]

Pheromoan | Lee Know

ᑉ³pairing; Best friend Lee Know x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Fluff, Smut

ᑉ³warnings; SMUT MDNI ( not spoiling it but it’s smut just … it’s smut)

ᑉ³Authors Note; A huge thank you to @skzdreamer13 for beta reading—you're the best! 💖 Just a quick heads-up: I switch between Minho and Lee Know throughout this fic, so keep that in mind while reading. Hope you enjoy, and feel free to share your thoughts!

Lee Know’s house was quiet when you arrived, the evening air sending a chill down your spine as you stepped up to his door. You knocked twice, shifting on your feet as you waited. A few seconds passed before the door swung open.

And then....

He just stood there.

He looked frozen in the doorway, one hand gripping the doorknob, the other gripping his phone. His gaze locked onto you, and for a moment, he didn’t move. His fingers twitched slightly, like he’d forgotten what he was supposed to do next. His brows pulled together, eyes flicking over your face like he was seeing you for the first time.

“…Hi?” you prompted, raising an eyebrow.

He blinked once, twice. Then, like shaking himself out of a daze, he stepped back, opening the door wider. “Come in.”

Still a little thrown by his reaction, you stepped inside, kicking your shoes off and setting your bag down near the entrance.

The scent of coffee lingered in the air, strong and familiar.

Just like him.

You turned to face him, catching the way his fingers curled slightly around the hem of his hoodie. His gaze flicked up, meeting yours for half a second before dropping again.

You narrowed your eyes. “What’s with you?”

Minho exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Nothing.”

Your eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, suspicion taking over. But before you could press further, he turned on his heel, walking toward the kitchen.

You frowned but followed him anyway, watching as he moved around the kitchen with that effortless grace he always had. He reached for a mug, fingers curling around the handle a little too tightly, and you swore you saw the slightest tremor in his hands before he busied himself with the coffee machine.

“You want coffee?” he asked.

“I thought you didn’t like making coffee for other people,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Minho scoffed, keeping his back to you as he poured the dark liquid into a mug. “I don’t.”

A pause.

“But you’re already here.”

Your lips twitched at his halfhearted grumble, but the nagging feeling that something was off didn’t disappear. He was avoiding looking at you, focusing way too much on pouring the coffee, like it required all of his attention. Brushing it off, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table as a grin tugged at your lips. 

“Okay, you are not ready for what I’m about to tell you.”

Minho finally turned, setting your mug down in front of you before grabbing his own. He lifted it to his lips, fingers curling slightly around the ceramic. “Yeah?”

“Well,” you continued, already getting into it, “So, you know how Yuna lives in the same apartment building as me, right? Like, literally two doors down?”

Minho nodded slowly, bringing the cup to his lips, blowing softly over the steam. “Mhm.”

“Well.” You leaned in, dropping your voice as if someone might be listening. “I was leaving for work this morning, just stepping out into the hall, minding my business...when bam! Who do I see walking out of her apartment at six in the morning, wearing yesterday’s clothes?”

Minho’s fingers twitched around his mug, but he took a slow sip, his expression unreadable. “Who?”

“And I don’t mean ‘oh, he’s just an early riser, out for a morning stroll’ kind of vibe. No. This man stumbled out of there looking wrecked. Shirt all wrinkled, tie shoved in his pocket, hair a mess......like he’d just rolled out of bed.” 

Minho swallowed hard, then subtly shifted… just an inch. His eyes flicked to the side before returning to his cup.

You didn’t notice.

“And listen,” you continued, waving a hand for emphasis. “At first, I wasn’t even thinking SCANDAL!!! I was just trying to get a good look at this man. Like, good for you, Yuna, finally with a man, you know? I was ready to send a whole ‘you go, girl’ text.”

Minho cleared his throat, barely audible. His fingers flexed against the mug before he slowly lowered it, resting it on the table.

“But then,” you said, dragging it out for effect, “I saw who it was.”

Minho’s grip on his cup tightened.

You leaned in, eyes wide. “Minho.” 

His jaw tensed.

 “.....It was Park Jin-young”

Minho’s nostrils flared just slightly.

“And then—then—he saw me. The second we made eye contact, his entire soul left his body. Like, this man panicked. He froze, looked back at her door like he could somehow undo reality, then speed-walked down the hallway like a guilty teenager sneaking out after curfew.”

Minho finally moved...lifting his cup back up to his face, but instead of drinking, he pressed it against his lips like he needed the heat to ground him.

You kept going.

“And Yuna?” You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, she was even worse. I caught her peeking through the door crack, wearing somebody’s oversized hoodie.....definitely not hers, by the way.....like she was trying to assess the damage before committing to showing her face.”

Minho’s fingers drummed against the table.....slow, measured taps.

His knee started bouncing.

“She gasped. Like, full-on, hand-over-mouth, eyes-wide, like she just got caught committing treason. And then—do you know what she said?”

He inhaled deeply, pressing the cup harder against his lips, eyes unfocused.

“She had the audacity to look me dead in the eye and say—” You threw up air quotes. “‘It’s not what it looks like.’”

Minho exhaled sharply through his nose. He shifted again, subtly angling himself away from you.

You scoffed, oblivious to his distress.

“Like, girl. It is exactly what it looks like.”

Minho’s fingers tapped against his cup, slow and deliberate. His jaw flexed, then loosened, then flexed again.

“And listen, I know it’s technically none of my business, but JYP? JYP?! Of all people?” You shook your head in disbelief. “I mean, come on. She could have—”

“Are you wearing a new perfume?”

You stopped mid-sentence.

“…What?”

Minho’s voice was lower now, rough, like he was barely keeping himself together.

His fingers curled even tighter around his cup, his knuckles just barely turning white. His jaw flexed, and when he finally did look at you, his pupils were slightly blown, his breath coming just a little too fast.

“Your perfume. It’s different.”

You stared at him, momentarily thrown. That was what he had to say? That was what had him completely zoning out while you were delivering the hottest scandal of the year?

Lifting your wrist instinctively, you sniffed your skin. It smelled like…

....well, nothing.

“I literally wear the same perfume every day,” you said slowly.

Minho didn’t respond right away. Instead, he exhaled. Long, measured, controlled. Then, without another word, he stood up from the table, taking his coffee with him, and walked straight to the sink, bracing his hands on the counter.

You blinked. “Minho? What is wrong?”

He shook his head once, exhaling hard through his nose. “Nothing.”

But his grip on the counter told you it was definitely not nothing.

Was there something on your dress? A stain you hadn’t noticed? You subtly glanced down, smoothing your hands over the fabric. No, everything looked fine.

…Wait. Your breath.

Panic flared in your chest as you clamped a hand over your mouth. Oh, God. Had younot brushed well enough? You discreetly exhaled into your palm and took a quick sniff.

Nothing.

So what the hell was going on?

Minho didn’t turn around right away. Instead, he stayed at the sink, his back to you, fingers curling around the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. His shoulders rose with a deep breath—then fell, slow and controlled, as if he was trying very hard not to spontaneously combust.

You frowned. “Minho?”

No response.

You tilted your head, about to push again, when, suddenl, he moved.

Without a word, without even glancing at you, he took a single step to the side. Then another. Then another.

Your eyes narrowed. “........What are you doing?”

Minho ignored you. Another step. Then another. Like he was casually relocating to the opposite end of the kitchen for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

Your brow furrowed as you tracked his painfully slow retreat. He wasn’t even subtle about it. By the time he finally stopped, he was standing absurdly far away—back pressed against the fridge, arms crossed tightly over his chest, coffee cup abandoned on the counter like he didn’t trust himself to hold it anymore.

You stared.

He stared back.

A full five seconds of complete, suffocating silence passed between you.

Then—

“So,” Minho said, voice a little too even, “Yuna.”

You blinked.

“…Huh?”

Minho nodded, as if he was conducting a business meeting and not acting like a man on the verge of a breakdown. “Yuna,” he repeated. “You were talking about Yuna.”

Your lips parted slightly. Then, slowly, you leaned forward, squinting at him. “Are you—?”

“I think,” he cut in, voice clipped, “you should finish your story.”

Your mouth hung open for a second. Then, your gaze dropped pointedly to the ridiculous amount of distance he’d just put between you.

“You want me to finish my story,” you repeated flatly.

“Yes.”

“From over here?”

A single, sharp nod. “Yes.”

You blinked again.

Then, after a long pause—“Okay, what is wrong with you?”

Minho’s jaw clenched. “I already told you. Nothing is wrong.”

You scoffed. “Nothing? You’re literally standing in another area code right now.”

He exhaled, closing his eyes for half a second before forcing them back open. “I’m just comfortable here.”

“Comfortable,” you echoed.

“Comfortable,” he confirmed.

You let out a breath, eyeing him like he was losing his mind. And honestly? Maybe he was. His hands were gripping his own arms way too hard, like he needed to physically hold himself back from something. His jaw was so tight you were surprised it hadn’t cracked.

What the hell was happening right now?

You took a slow step toward him.

Instantly, he stiffened.

You took another.

His back pressed further into the fridge.

Your eyes narrowed. “You’re acting so weird right now.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

Minho inhaled sharply, looking like he wanted to melt into the wall. His fingers flexed against his biceps, then dug in tighter. You swore you saw the tips of his ears turning pink.

“You’re not finishing your story,” he said suddenly, desperate to redirect. “What happened next?”

You tilted your head, suspicious. “You really care that much about Yuna and JYP?”

“Yes.”

A slow blink. “...Minho, do you have a fever?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Finish the story. I'm so interested. ” He said with a deadpanned face.

You raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully. You weren’t sure what kind of internal battle he was fighting right now, but whatever it was... it was serious.

But fine. He wanted to play this game? You’d play.

You took another step forward.

Minho’s eye twitched.

Suppressing a grin, you propped your hands on your hips. “Where was I?”

His throat bobbed. “Yuna.”

“Oh, right!” you exclaimed, feigning excitement. “So Yuna’s standing there, looking guilty as hell, right? And she knows she’s caught, but she’s still trying to act like nothing happened. And I’m just standing there, like—” You threw up your hands. “Girl. What are we doing here?”

Minho didn’t respond.

Because you had taken another step.

And now, the space between you was dangerously small.

You pretended not to notice the way his whole body locked up. “But do you know what the worst part was?”

Minho’s fingers curled tighter. “W-What.”

You leaned in slightly.

His breath hitched.

“She tried to change the subject,” you murmured.

Minho swallowed.

Your lips curled. “Sound familiar?”

Silence.

He was having a crisis.

But it had nothing to do with JYP or Yuna

Because whatever perfume you were wearing, whatever scent was clinging to your skin, was messing with his head.

It was subtle, but there. Just enough to seep into his senses, curling around his thoughts like smoke, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

“You,” he bit out." Are a problem"

You froze. “…What?”

His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring slightly as he looked at you—really looked at you—like he was on the verge of something dangerous. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He looked frustrated,like he was mad at you, but not in the way he usually was.

“This—” he gestured vaguely at you, at the space between you, “—this isn’t normal. I don’t look at you like this. I don’t—” His voice faltered, hands curling into fists at his sides. “I don’t think about you like this.”

Your heart stuttered.

Like what?

Minho let out a low, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “But I do, don’t I?” His eyes flicked to yours, something raw and real in them. “I have for a long time.”

Your stomach flipped, your breath catching in your throat as realization started to dawn.

“Minho…”

His name barely made it past your lips before he was stepping closer.

His scent, warm, familiar, ..... and him... wrapped around you, overwhelming in a way that made your pulse jump.

“I thought I could ignore it,” he muttered, voice tight, like the words were being dragged out of him. “Thought I could just—pretend.” He huffed out a short laugh, but there was no humor in it. “But then you show up here, wearing that damn perfume, looking at me like that, and I can’t.”

You felt lightheaded.

Like that?

How were you looking at him?

“I don’t get it,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Minho’s lips pressed into a thin line. He hesitated—just for a second—then exhaled, slow and shaky.

And then—

“…I like you.”

Your entire brain short-circuited.

“…What?”

His eyes finally met yours, dark, sharp, sincere. His jaw was still clenched, his fingers still curled like he wanted to touch you but couldn’t.

But his voice?

Low.

Graveled.

Deadly serious.

His voice, lower than you’d ever heard it, brushed against your ear as he spoke.

“I like you,” he repeated, slower this time.

Your stomach flipped.

Minho let out a quiet chuckle, breath warm against your skin.

“Still confused?”

You stared at him, heart pounding so hard it hurt.

Minho liked you.

Minho.

Your best friend.

The person who had always been there. Who made fun of you relentlessly but never let anyone else do the same. Who acted like he didn’t care but always, always noticed when something was wrong.

You opened your mouth, but no words came.

Minho let out a slow breath, his expression shifting....something resigned creeping into his eyes.

“Say something,” he muttered.

You didn’t know what to say.

So instead—

You reached out, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie.

Minho sucked in a sharp breath.

You hesitated, searching his face, then—

Screw it.

You tugged him forward, closing the space between you. The second your lips met his, he froze.

For a single, breathless moment, he didn’t move….like his brain was still trying to process that this was actually happening. That you had just pulled him in, kissed him like you’d been waiting for this just as long as he had.

A sharp inhale and a split-second of hesitation later... and then his hands were on you. 

One curled around your waist, the other tangling in your hair, pulling you closer like he’d been holding himself back for far too long. His lips pressed against yours, firm and certain, like he was making up for all the time he had wasted pretending he didn’t feel this way.

His breath was warm, his grip just shy of desperate, like he was afraid you might pull away.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Because Minho kissed like he had something to prove. Like he was trying to carve himself into your bones, make sure you knew exactly what he had been holding back all this time. It was slow, intoxicating, and just a little rough.

And God, he was desperate.

Your back hit the counter before you even realized he was moving you.

And when he finally pulled back, just enough to let you breathe, his forehead rested against yours, his grip on your waist unwavering. His breathing was uneven, lips just barely brushing yours as he exhaled.

You swallowed hard, staring up at him, lips tingling, heart racing.

Your lips parted, your mind racing to catch up, but Minho was already moving…his hands sliding up your waist, his lips ghosting over your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth—

Teasing.

Testing.

Waiting for you to break first.

And God, you were so close.

“Minho,” you whispered, your fingers tightening around the fabric of his hoodie.

He groaned, a low, almost pained sound, before pulling back just enough to look at you in the eyes.

“You have no idea how hard I’m trying to be respectful right now,” he admitted, voice rough, ragged.

You swallowed, heart hammering.

Your breath was still uneven, lips still tingling, and yet Minho was staring at you like he was barely holding himself together. His fingers flexed against your waist, and you swore you could feel the heat of his skin even through the fabric of your dress.

“Say something,” he murmured, quieter this time. “Or I’m gonna start thinking that was a mistake.”

Your heart lurched. A mistake? The way he kissed you, like he’d been waiting forever, how could he even think that?

You shook your head quickly. “No.”

Minho swallowed, his grip on your waist not as confident as before. “No?”

“No, it wasn’t a mistake.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his dark eyes scanning your face for any sign of doubt.

And he was standing in front of you, looking at you like he wanted to ruin you.

He was searching…waiting…giving you one last chance to stop this before it went too far.

But you didn’t want to stop.

So you pulled him down, closing the space between you in a kiss that was nothing like the first. This one was desperate, hungry, a silent plea for him to understand everything you couldn’t put into words.

Minho groaned against your lips, his control finally snapping as he kissed you back just as fiercely. His hands tightened on your waist before sliding up, fingers skimming over your ribs, your back, pulling you flush against him. The heat of his body, the way he moved against you—it was dizzying.

His fingers dug in just enough to make you shiver before he lifted you onto the cool surface in one smooth motion, stepping between your legs and caging you in with his body. 

The sudden shift sent a gasp tumbling from your lips, and Minho swallowed it whole, his mouth never leaving yours.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough.

His hands slid down, skimming the hem of your dress before slipping beneath, his fingertips dragging fire up your thighs. Your breath hitched as he gripped them, pulling you closer until your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. The low groan he let out sent a fresh wave of heat pooling in your stomach.

His lips left yours only to trail lower, ghosting over your jaw, then down the curve of your neck. He paused there, his breath hot against your skin, his hands flexing against your thighs like he was battling himself.

Minho groaned, a deep, guttural sound, his control snapping like a frayed thread.

“You’re dangerous,” he muttered, voice strained, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. His hands continued to trail, and one made its way to your clothed heat.

Your breath hitched as you felt him rub you through the fabric.

Your fingers slipping under his hoodie, nails scraping lightly against his skin. “And what does that make you?”

Minho lifted his head, his dark, blown-out eyes meeting yours.

“Absolutely fucked.”

His eyes locked on yours, and suddenly, everything slowed down.

It wasn't desperate anymore.

It wasn't rushed.

He was staring at you, his eyes dark, his lips parted slightly, and you realized, in that moment, exactly how long he had wanted this.

For months.

For years.

For longer than he had ever let on.

He was looking at you like he had waited forever for this.

"You're sure?"

"Yes," you breathed. Your chest was rising and falling fast, your heart pounding.

"Okay," he murmured.

And then, in one fluid motion, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and tugged them down.

You shivered, the air cold against your skin, and Minho let out a sharp exhale, his hands trailing down your thighs, spreading your legs wider.

"Fuck," he muttered, his voice rough, heavy.

His fingers slipped between your wet folds, the pressure of his thumb on your clit making your breath catch in your throat.

As he continued his teasing, you could feel yourself giving in, the pleasure clouding your judgment. Your hips rocked against his hand, seeking more, and a moan escaped your lips as he slid a finger inside of you.

The feeling of his fingers inside you, curling up just the way you liked, was almost too much to bear.

"I want to taste you," he whispered, his voice filled with desire. You watched as he kneeled before you, his head dipping between your legs. His tongue finding your clit as his fingers plunged deeper into your pussy. You cried out, your body writhing in pleasure as he licked and fingered you. 

He hummed against your clit as his tongue teased your tight hole.

“oh my fuck.” Your eyes closed tightly as his tounge continued to explored your pussy, darting out to swipe along your folds.

Your moans becoming a melody to his ears.

"You taste so good," he said, his voice muffled

Your hands grip his hair, tugging at his dark hair and forcing his face deeper. It was as if he knews all your sweet spots, as if you had done this before, thrusting his long digits inside of you once more.

He gripped your waist tighter, pulling you closer as he began to thrust his tongue in and out of you, fucking you with his mouth.

You were trembling now, the pleasure almost too much.

It wasnt long before your mouth fell open in a silent scream and your cunt clenched around his fingers, walls spasming as you reached your orgasm and your cum trailed down the expanse of your thigh.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he growled.

But Minho wasn't done with you. Not even close.

"I need you," he groaned, his voice hoarse. "Please."

You couldn't refuse him. Not when he was looking at you like that, with pure, unadulterated want.

He stood up and you could see his cock straining against his jeans, his breathing ragged.

You leaned forward, your lips capturing his in a heated kiss, tongue sliding into his mouth. He moaned against your lips, his fingers tightening on your hips.

You reached down, fumbling with the zipper of his jeans. You managed to unbutton them and shove them down his thighs, revealing his achingly hard cock.

You wrapped your fingers around his length, stroking him slowly, reveling in the sounds he was making.

He groaned, his hips jerking against yours, his breathing becoming more ragged as you continued to tease him.

"Do you want me?"" he said, his voice hoarse.

You lifted your hips, allowing him to position himself at your entrance.

He held your gaze, his eyes filled with desire and want.

You nodded. "Yes."

He pressed his lips to yours, kissing you deeply as he slowly slid his cock between your folds, the tip smearing his precum along your entrance before he pushed in, slow and deep, stretching you out. You gasped against his lips, the feeling of him filling you overwhelming.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

“F-fuck,” he groaned, his voice shaking, his hands tightening on your thighs. “You’re... Fuck. youre so tight, baby-”

His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you closer as he began to move, his cock stretching you.

You could feel the heat of his length throbbing inside of you, the friction sending sparks shooting down your spine.

"You feel amazing," he growled, his voice strained.

He was holding back, trying to take things slow, but you needed more.

"Minho..." you whimpered, your body writhing beneath his.

"I'm right here, baby," he murmured, his fingers gripping your hips tighter.

He moaned, his thrusts growing harder and faster. Your fingers gripped his hair, pulling him closer, wanting more.

Your eyes rolled back with each deep slam of his cock into your squelching wet cunt, and your free hand scrambled to cover your mouth in an awful attempt to muffle the loud noises spilling out of your mouth.

"Don't." he grunted. "I want to hear every moan."

Your body was trembling, your cunt clenching around his cock.

"Please, baby," he groaned. "Let me hear you."

You could feel his cock twitch inside of you, the familiar tightening in your stomach as the pleasure built.

""Ahh- Fuck. I'm gonna-gonna n-n-nn"

You could feel yourself nearing the edge, the pleasure threatening to consume you.

His thrusts became harder and faster, driving his cock deeper inside of you.

"Oh my-"

The pleasure was overwhelming, coursing through you, consuming you, sending sparks shooting down your spine and a wave of warmth to pool in your belly.

Your vision blurred, and for a moment, it was like everything was suspended, the world going still.

As you rode the waves of your climax, your body tensed and convulsed, the pleasure crashing over you in waves.

Minho groaned, his body shuddering as he came.

He was still thrusting in and out of you heping you ride out your orgasm. you could see where your bodies were connected and the milky white ring that was forming at the base of his cock.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breathing ragged as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

You could feel his heartbeat, thudding wildly against yours.

His warmth surrounded you, his arms tightening ever so slightly, as if he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go. Your fingers curled into his hair, nails grazing lightly against his scalp, and he exhaled, the sound somewhere between a sigh and a shudder.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment. The only sounds in the room were your breaths, still uneven, still tangled together.

Minho pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder before shifting, just enough to look at you. His dark eyes searched yours, and for the first time all night, the usual confidence in his gaze had softened into something quieter.

His fingers traced idle patterns against your skin, hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should break the silence.

“…Are you okay?” His voice was low, almost careful.

Your heart clenched. You knew Minho—knew the teasing, smug exterior he put on for the world. But here, now, there was none of that. No walls, no masks. Just him.

His gaze dropped, his fingers flexing on your skin again. “I’ve been trying so hard to pretend I’m fine just being your friend. To act like I didn’t want more.” He let out a soft, humorless chuckle.

Your chest ached. You reached for him instinctively, your fingers brushing against his jaw. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

His eyes flicked back up to yours, something flickering in his expression. Hope. Relief.

“Yeah?” he murmured, like he needed to hear it again.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Minho exhaled, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your cheekbone with the kind of gentleness that made your heart stutter.

His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something—something important—but instead, he just kissed you. Slow, lingering, like he was savoring the moment, grounding himself in it.

And then, just as slowly, he pulled back.

You swunging your legs a little where you still sat on the counter. Minho reached for his jeans, slipping them on before turning back to you with an unreadable look.

Then—

“…What perfume was that?”

You blinked. “Huh?”

Minho tilted his head. “The one you wore today.”

You frowned, thrown off by the sudden topic shift. “I don’t know? I just grabbed one from my dresser.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You just grabbed one?”

“…Yeah?”

Curious now, you hopped off the counter and dug through your purse sitting near the entrance and pulled out the small glass bottle. You turned it over to check the label—

And immediately froze.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Minho caught the change in your expression immediately. “What?”

You hesitated.

Then, barely above a whisper—

“…It’s a pheromone perfume.”

Silence.

Minho didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

Then, very slowly—

“You what?”

“I didn’t know!” You held up the bottle defensively. “I just thought it smelled nice! I had no idea—”

Minho dragged a hand down his face. “So that’s why I couldn’t focus today.”

You bit your lip. “…Maybe?”

He exhaled sharply, staring at you like you had just changed the entire trajectory of his life. Then, rubbing his temples, he muttered, mostly to himself—

“This whole time, I thought I was losing my mind.”

You winced. “Uh—”

Minho turned his gaze back to you, dead serious. “You’re never wearing that again.”

You pouted. “But—”

He narrowed his eyes. “I swear to God.”

You grinned, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie over your hands as you hopped down from the counter. “Fine, fine.”

Minho eyed you for a moment longer, then sighed, pulling you into him again, his chin resting on top of your head.

You giggled. “So… does this mean you are obsessed with me?”

Minho stilled for half a second.

You barely had time to react before he leaned in, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered—

“You have no idea.”

ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 

𐙚 Networks

@skzstarnet @supernovanetwork @k-labels @straykidsland

𐙚 Taglist

@stayceebs97 @everythingboutkpop @velvetmoonlght @ririwhiskers @ch4nn13luv

@stellasays45 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @changbiddies0325 @ayyonoona @mellhwang

@bowsnbang @jisungsbff01 @miin17 @lyracarvahall @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@sunoosfavsposts @kayleefriedchicken @yougottobekittenme @jaiuneamesolitaiire @channiecreme

@intrikatie @chrizzztopherbang @catlove83 @vernorica123@pixie-felix

𐙚 Join my Taglist

──Want to be removed? send me an ask<3

[boyfhee]

𝗜𝗡 𝗠𝗬 𝗔𝗥𝗠𝗦 ㅤ⠀━━━━━━ ㅤ 엔하이픈

PREC𝒾S . . when you gotta go but they need you closer, right in their arms.

✶ 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒍ㅤ｡⠀bf ! enha, fluffy fluff >//< ㅤ2O68 ..ㅤㅤ kissing, petnamesㅤㅤㅤread more :3

╰⁠(⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠╯ㅤ..ㅤ wrote this because i couldn't sleep :D happy reading !!

HEESEUNG

“one last kiss!”

“heeseung, go—” you groan in frustration, although your words are laced with half affection as you try to close the door on him, only for him to stop it by his hands, stepping inside.

you sigh at his smirk, arms crossed while he's putting on his best act, hand over his chest and all, words dripping with mock despair. “you're breaking my heart, angel,”

“and you're overreacting,” you huff, but honestly, you don't mind this one bit.

“one last kiss,” his hands find your waist, backing you up against the nearest wall. he feels your breath hitch, his own heart racing as he leans his forehead against yours and whispers softly. “just one, and i'll leave. i promise,”

it's like you're talking in gazes— yours fixating on him while his travels down to your lips. it only takes a brief second before you find yourself gravitating towards him, your lips moulding with his in a deep, slow kiss.

you gasp when he pulls you closer by your waist, tilting his head for a better angle, arms wrapping themselves around you like a lifeline. it's something between a longing hug and a needy kiss, and you're not sure if he's going home tonight.

JONGSEONG

it happens when he extends his arm to reach out for you.

cold. and he groans softly.

jongseong is a heavy sleeper and the only thing that can wake him up in an instant is you, or rather— your absence.

he opens his eyes, squinting them at your sleeping figure which is all warm & snug under the beige duvet. the sound of bedsheet shuffling fills his ears as he extends his arms and wraps them around you, pulling you flush against him.

“seong?” you mumble, voice dazed by the sweet slumber that was now interrupted by his sudden hug.

“nothing baby, go to sleep,” he whispers softly, pressing a soft kiss over your cheeks. you're not convinced but honestly, you're too sleepy to implore further.

so instead, you shift even close to him, arms wrapped around his waist, legs tangled, your warm breath fanning against his bare chest— a drowsy smile finds its way to his lips.

he could get used to this.

JAEYUN

“can't you stay longer?” you should've seen it coming, honestly. his constant need to hold your hand, soft caresses on your knuckles like feather on water while he was driving, the grip on your hand that keeps getting firmer as the car approaches your house— he's not ready to let you go yet.

“baby, i promise we'll meet again tomorrow,” you attempt reassuring him as he pulls over at your place, gently taking your hands out of his and cupping his face.

“yes but tomorrow,” he melts in your touch, lips jutted forward in a pout. “way too long”

it's hard to say no when he's being so desperate, giving you his best puppy eyes that are sparkling with pure love and yearning, the pout being cherry on top.

you can't help but laugh at his insistence, pressing your lips against the tip of his nose. “you're insatiable,”

“can't blame me, i have a beautiful girlfriend,” he knows he's got you right where he wants. it's in the way you let him press fluttering kisses on your cheeks, allowing his hands to pull you into a warm hug by your waist. “how am i supposed to live without her?”

and you know your next words are going to be a lie but you end up speaking anyway, sighing mockingly. “just five minutes more,”

SUNGHOON

sunghoon would never admit to being a clingy boyfriend even though his actions say otherwise every time you two are together.

“get up now,” you tell him for the fifth time now, hands ghosting up his hair and moving to his shoulders.

“mhm,” he hums in response, or perhaps it's discontentment with the way he holds you a little tighter, nuzzling his face in your stomach. “keep doing that,”

“doing what?”

“the thing you were doing with my hair,” you can feel his words brush against your skin, your top slightly lifted up as he draws random patterns on the bare skin of your waist. “it feels nice,”

and you can't help but comply, your fingers getting lost in his soft brown locks. the scent of his shampoo draws you in and your lips curl into a smile when you feel him relax further under your touch.

“don't stop, please,” his voice is quiet, laced with a silver of desperation, his need for you to be close. he only hugs you tighter, a breathy chuckle erupting from your mouth when he buries his face in your belly.

and sunghoon is definitely not a clingy boyfriend, but you don't mind if your mornings start a bit late just because he wants you to hug him and play with his hair a few minutes more. “i won't,”

SUNOO

your boyfriend has been following you around wordlessly for a while now,

he finally musters up the courage to reach out to you, hugging you instantly, afraid of looking at you in the eyes. “you're mad at me,”

“i am not, sunoo. let go,” you try to reassure him, hands on his arms as you gently push him away with a snicker, only for him to hug you tighter.

“you aren't even looking at me,” he's pouting now, once starry eyes now drowning in guilt as they refuse to let go of the sight of you. “ it completely slipped my mind. i swear it wasn't intentional.”

and sunoo isn't the one to forget plans. he makes them, he's the first one to get ready. it's unusual, rare, when he misses a date— your first time in two years and perhaps that's why it stings a little more than you had expected, but you do understand his urgency towards work.

you nod, caressing his cheeks, lips pressed in a thin line. “i know and it's okay,”

“really?” he wants to believe you, he hopes you mean it, and if you don't, he's ready to try a million times to make it up to you. “i love you,”

you don't get a chance to respond, words left unsaid on the tip of your tongue when he starts pressing butterfly kisses all over your face.

“never—” he whispers, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “—ever—” and then on both your cheeks, followed by the tip of your nose. “—forget that,” and lastly, on your lips.

JUNGWON

“do we have to go?” he asks with almost pleading eyes, the whiney voice only lurching your heart further when you look at him.

“yes,” you respond with a gentle kiss on his forehead before pulling back, your hands still cupping his face. “before our friends notice our absence,”

“i hate keeping this a secret,” he doesn't break eye contact when he says this, kissing both your palms simultaneously before his hands go back to your hips, wanting to have you in his lap just a little longer. “just wanna show you off, darling,”

it leaves you breathless when he tugs you closer to him, the lack of space in the storage not helping you with keeping your sanity together.

it's dark, you feel his warm breath fanning against your face. you almost lose all your reasoning before composing yourself. “we'll tell them soon,”

“promise?”

and you nod, caressing his cheeks gently under your fingertips. “promise,”

“okay, now let me kiss you more,” he doesn't let you respond, immediately brings his lips back to yours, and when you hear a knock on the door, your lips kiss-swollen, lipstick smudged on his— you realise you can't keep it a secret anymore.

NI-KI

“riki let go—” you try getting away for the hundredth time, hands on his chest— your best attempt at stepping away and once again, he manages to pull you in against him.

“shut up,” he mutters against your hair, pressing butterfly kisses before bringing his head down to your ear, whispering. “you talk too much,”

the hint of irritation in his voice is betrayed by the softness of his touch, in the way he gently takes your arms and wraps them around his waist, as if they belong there.

your head is tilted all the way up, chin resting on his chest and he looks even more handsome under the streetlight. “if my parents find out, they're killing both of us,”

“then i'll make sure to find you in my next life too,” and you don't know what has gotten into him— even he is surprised, but none of you say anything, letting the silence speak for your hearts.

“cheesy,” you whisper against his hoodie, melting in the warmth of his embrace in the cold night, biting back a smile when you hear him whisper a quiet 'i love you' in the crook of your neck.

[htaesan]

　ᅠ ✿　ᅠ NOT THAT I CARE OR ANYTHING　　────　ᅠ ( han taesan )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀your ex, seemingly sweet anton, spreads malicious rumours about you that could potentially ruin your entire academic weapon career, so you have to take desperate measures𑁋and that includes a fake-dating contract and the bane of your existence, han taesan.

　　　ᅠ 한태산 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 13k ⠀ genre college au fluff angst if you squint one sided rivals to lovers academic weapon x campus crush ⠀ contains mentions of food vulgar words skinship pet names several ocs ⠀ note i’m sorry if this fic is.. all over the place a bit coz,, yea!! but this fic is highly.. self-indulgent.. heheh! and i originally wanted to make this more angsty but i’m already sad and single so, No! anyways, enjoy reading ^_^ ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net

　　　ᅠ ＞︿ 　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

“ALRIGHT. Let’s do it.”

As you gaze into Taesan’s determined eyes, the entire series of events flashes through your mind. 

It was back in your first year of university—early winter, the day of the first snowfall. You were walking towards the three-floor library, the cold wind stinging your eyes. You rushed inside, grateful for the gush of artificial warm air that greeted you as soon as the doors closed behind you. The library was quite packed for some reason, and you could barely spot any empty seats.

You walked towards the edge of the library, a corner with the largest window of the level. There it was—one of the only empty seats in the entire library—but that seat was next to a boy, heavily occupied with his studies. Your pace slowed down as you hesitated. The boy had a focused blank look on his face, his headphones on, and several papers and notebooks were scattered on the table around him.

You felt like you wanted to just leave and go back to your room, but remembering how cold it was outside, you decided against it. 

After taking a deep breath, you approached him. With a shaky smile, you tapped the boy’s shoulder, muttering a silent prayer. 

“Excuse me,” you said as he lowered his headphones to his neck. “May I sit here? I-I mean, if it’s cool with you..”

He simply nodded. “Sure.”

You had sat down next to the mysterious boy for the entire day, not knowing that, in the present, he would be the bane of your existence. 

In this moment, you’re brought back to the present, startled at how you’re standing in front of him. The mysterious boy that you had sat next to turned out to be Han “Taesan” Dongmin—KOZ School of Law’s campus crush. There’s almost nothing “bad” that you’re heard of him, yet, when you find yourself walking towards him with a fiery determination in your eyes—you immediately know that you’re about to get hit with something you’d never expect. 

“A-are you sure?” you say, surprised to even find yourself stuttering. You’ve held yourself to such a high reputation—being your school’s academic weapon—you’ve worked hard to keep yourself true to that name. 

Well, to be fair, you didn’t expect Taesan to even say yes to your ridiculous plan—given that all that’s he’s ever done for you is say everything that will get on your nerves.

Taesan gives you a smirk. “Of course,” he says, clearing his throat. “Being the boyfriend of KOZ Academy’s academic weapon isn’t something you get to do everyday.”

The way he presses the emphasis on the word ‘boyfriend’ makes you flinch. It reminds you of your stupid plan; who in their right mind would offer Han Taesan—your rival—a fake dating deal just to make rumours about themselves go away?

“Right,” you roll your eyes. “Anyway, I think we need to enforce some guidelines and boundaries regarding this… set-up.”

Taesan shoves his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight to let himself stand more comfortably. The smirk still on his face, he replies, “alright. Hit me with all of ‘em.”

You whip your phone out, quickly showing him a document that you spent an entire night typing out—complete with every single thing he needed to do for you. 

“Here,” you say, frustrated at how Taesan’s smug smirk just never falters. 

Taesan runs a hand through his hair before leaning down to read through the document displayed on your phone. He finishes reading it quickly, taking a step closer to you after. He doesn’t say anything for a while, only to startle you by abruptly saying, “I agree.”

“What–?” you blurt out, surprised once again. You thought that Taesan would be more picky than– 

“Your terms are easy for me to do. However,” you narrow your eyes at the boy who’s towering in front of you. Of course he’s picky—he’s Taesan. “I’d like you to agree to my conditions as well. If I have to do some things for you, you’d have to do some things for me too.”

You sigh before nodding. How hard could it be? Besides, this whole ‘relationship’ you’re having with Taesan is merely a fake dating set-up. 

“Okay.”

Taesan whips out a full-blown smug smirk, making you roll your eyes. He pushes his glasses up his nose bridge, holding out two fingers. 

“First, you have to also put in the effort to make things real. Like, wearing my jersey when I have basketball games, and wearing my initials ‘round your neck,” he pushes his middle finger down, the smug grin still plastered on his face, “and secondly, you’ll have to let me kiss you anytime.”

The moment the word ‘kiss’ escapes his mouth, you choke on thin air. 

Why is my plan backfiring on me? 

“What? No–”

Taesan shrugs. “Basically, physical contact is allowed to be done anytime.”

You feel your face flush, immediately recalling the third condition that you showed Taesan. No physical affection unless needed. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that—it’s clashing with my third term.”

“But your first term: ‘the other party must always do his utmost best to make the relationship seem real’ exists, am I right?” Taesan objects relaxedly. “Then, my second term doesn’t clash with that. And I also do believe that that first term of yours comes before the rest. Am I right?”

You grit your teeth, sucking in a sharp breath. How could you forget? Taesan will always work to have the last word—be that in court or in conversations. 

Plus, he’s not entirely wrong. 

Though, you’ve never been someone who lets Taesan win willingly. 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, your heart twisting in detest at the way Taesan’s face lights up with a smirk again. 

“Then, we have a deal?” Taesan asks. 

You stare into his dark brown eyes once again, registering what you’re about to commit yourself to. All just to get rid of your ex and the rumour he’s pulled you into. 

You hold out your hand, Taesan gladly reciprocating. 

“Deal.”

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

IT didn’t hit you that you’re officially Han Taesan’s girlfriend that night. However, the next morning, right after the two of you signed the document at the coffee shop you always study at—it hit you like a million bricks from the sky. 

You’re in a “relationship” with the person you loathed the most for the past year. The exact same man who everyone adores, who’s called the it-boy, the campus crush—is now your most “beloved”. Freshman you would rather jump off a cliff than to offer her nemesis a fake-dating pact. 

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I guess. 

“Here,” Taesan hands you a velvet box—one that obviously contains jewellery of some sort. 

Of course. Han Taesan’s always prepared. 

You let out a deep sigh, knowing what’s inside. Despite that, you ask, “what’s this?”

Taesan gives you a grin, one that you always see him don during the countable times that he beats you in quizzes. “Open it—I’m sure you’ll like it.”

You run your fingers around the edges of the velvety box, sceptical at Taesan’s sudden soft tone. “Don’t talk to me like that,” you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. 

Taesan, instead of immediately throwing a scoff in your face, simply leans back into his seat with a chuckle. 

Not waiting for whatever reply he’s preparing to throw to you, you open the box. Your eyes lay upon a beautiful, dainty necklace with a “H.D” pendant, nested elegantly in the box. You bite back a gasp, though you’re unable to hide your surprise. The silver necklace is one of the most beautiful pieces of jewellery you’ve yet to lay your eyes upon—it’s dainty and simple, yet it screams elegance in the best way possible. 

You look up at Taesan, obviously bug-eyed. “What- I’m- thank you?”

Taesan throws his head back, laughing. He perches an eyebrow up, clearly amused. “What am I supposed to answer? ‘You’re welcome’?”

Oh. It’s part of his terms. 

You glare at him. 

Not missing a beat, Taesan says with a big grin on his face, “what is your lazy ass waiting for? Put it on—or do you need me to help with that?”

You massage your temples, tempted to stick your tongue out at him, hissing the obvious at him—that you do not want to wear his initials around your neck. 

“I don’t need your help,” you say between gritted teeth, harshly yanking the necklace from the box. You swiftly clasp the necklace around your neck, secretly surprised that you’re able to do so. 

Maintaining a glare, you retort, “I’m only wearing this stupid necklace because it’s part of your terms.”

You throw your gaze elsewhere, Taesan laughing his stomach out in the background. Why is he finding your irritated state so funny? 

The pendant feels cold against your skin, sending tingles. You gulp, feeling odd. You hadn’t announced your ‘relationship’ to your friends yet—but seeing you with Taesan’s initials could certainly start rumours. 

A part of you is jumping with triumph—your plan is starting to set its course, while another part of you is afraid of it all. What if you’re finally not good at something, no matter how much you try—pretending you’re in love with your rival, the bane of your existence?

“We’ll start slow,” you hear Taesan say, pulling you back into reality. You quickly morph into your stoic expression—one that you find yourself often putting up around people. “Like everyone else does. Soft launch.”

“Ah,” you manage, nodding. “Sounds good.”

“Even though that necklace certainly is a big jump for a soft launch,” Taesan voices, chuckling. His words cause you to narrow your eyes at him, hyper aware of the cold metal against your skin—a mark that Taesan managed to place on you. 

It’s all fake, you chant to yourself. Once Anton gets the message, it’ll all be over. 

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

THE past few weeks had been a blur. Nothing was out of the ordinary—you attended classes, performed mootings and sent in assignments like usual. Though, only one thing that was out of the routine.

Taesan no longer felt like a thorn to your side. 

You still hate him—you despise the way he carries himself, so proud and confident. You wish you could punch his face for the way he’s so smooth with his words, the way that his charm works on everyone so well. You absolutely hate the way a handsome idiot like him had the potential to beat you in every single subject if you slacked for even a minute. 

Yet, to the public, he’s your boyfriend. 

A cliche: rivals to lovers, they say. 

Despite being the one proposing the whole fake dating plan, you had been the one following Taesan’s itinerary so far. The two of you had finally exchanged phone numbers, and at night, Taesan would always send a list of ideas on how to make the soft launch more obvious day by day. 

The first week, you found yourself wearing tops that highlighted the H.D pendant, styling your hair to make it more noticeable—you even went as far as attending Taesan’s birthday celebration to top the chances of people noticing the pendant. And Taesan didn’t inform you of this one, but you often found him telling his friends, yours, or random coursemates to pass you drinks and snacks. You had no idea how Taesan had gotten the list of all your favourite things to munch on, but you secretly did enjoy the free flow of snacks. Anton had passed you a snack from Taesan too—five packs of your favourite Choco Pie. You couldn’t forget the bewildered face Anton had as he passed them to you, eyes filled with question and a hint of jealousy.  

“What’s up with Han?” he asked.

You shoved the Choco Pies into your shoulder bag, biting back a smile. Who wouldn’t be jolly after getting five of their favourite tidbits? 

“How would I know?” you replied bitterly. You quickly turn away from Anton, the uncomfortable feeling of being around him overpowering the bubbly feeling you had from getting snacks. 

“Well, those Choco Pies are from him,” Anton repeated for the second time. “And I don’t recall him being anything but hostile to you.”

You suppress a scoff. “Maybe he’s had a change of heart? His brain is probably tired of coming up with things to try and outsmart me,” you muttered. As if. 

“Well, if anything—if that asshole tries to do anything to you, I’ll… be here for you, Y/N,” Anton said, taking a step closer. Your eyes widened and your jaw clenched. You quickly finished packing your bag up, swinging it over your shoulders. 

You said that last time, too. 

“Don’t talk to me, Anton,” you responded as monotony as possible before running out of the lecture hall, not giving Anton even a glance. 

The following weeks, Taesan was hanging out with you even more than the previous week. He wasn’t being too obvious, but to you, him walking slightly behind you and not throwing a loud sarcastic remark was already an apparent sign that would show everyone that your dynamics had changed. 

Anton had found yet another chance to corner you after a Public International Law lecture. You stayed back in the hall to reread your theoretical essay before sending it in. Behind you, Taesan was packing up his things, busy scrolling through something in his phone. 

“Hi, Y/N,” you froze when Anton’s voice reached your ear drums. 

You look up at him with a glare. “What do you want?”

Anton flashed his usual pitiful, soft smile. “Nothing. Just a meal with you—this week has been quite stressful for you, right? I heard that last Monday’s mooting was rough.”

“You’re not even a law student, Anton,” you seethed. The KOZ School of Business student ID card hanging on Anton’s neck looked extremely out of place amongst the ocean of law students. “Please kindly get lost, go back to the Business building.”

“My course mates are boring. Besides, you’re more fun to be around,” Anton replied. “I know we… haven’t been on good terms, but give me a chance to fix it all?”

You gritted your teeth, your hands beginning to shake. 

The audacity of this boy… where is my stupid fake boyfriend when I need him–?

“I think she clearly said for you to get lost, bud.”

You fought back a grin. Finally. 

“Han?” Anton tilted his head. “Wait– who are you to tell me that?”

Taesan stood next to you, his backpack dangling from one shoulder. His height towered significantly above you, making you standing right below his shoulders—enough to match Anton. “Who do you think I am?”

Anton’s eyes darted towards the pendant on your décolletage, his eyes bulging. “What the…” you heard him mutter under his breath. 

Taesan seemed to notice this too, and he swiftly pulled you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “So, get it now? Get lost, Lee, and give your ex some space. An ex is an ex for a reason.”

Anton then left with a fuming expression, leaving you in fits of relieved laughter after. You thanked Taesan, who simply responded with a polite smile. 

“By the end of this, don’t forget the wish, yeah?” he said, before walking out of the lecture hall. 

You stood there, blinking profusely. You had completely forgotten the last clause of your agreement with Taesan—once you were satisfied with his service, you had to grant him one wish. Anything that he wanted. 

You face palmed yourself. Why didn’t you think twice before typing that down? You mentally made a note to yourself to prepare your wallet for the outrageous request that the thorn in your side would make later on. 

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

“ARE you and Taesan dating?” 

Sophia’s question makes you almost spit your lunch through your nose. 

“What?”

“Girl, don’t you dare pretend not,” Yunjin interrupts, pointing her spoon at you. “You literally have his initials as a necklace that you never take off! H.D., which means Han Dongmin, right? Isn’t that his real name?”

“It’s not like–”

“No, no. It’s so obvious! Taesan’s around you more now, and he even gave you a birthday present!”

Sophia smiles, “he looks at you so differently now!” 

Yunjin laughs, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, that too, I guess,” she then looks at you, directly in the eyes, “I guess Han Taesan and Y/N L/N have finally begun their lovers era, huh?”

You feel your cheeks warming up, and guilt fills your chest. You draw a sharp inhale before telling the girls the full story. And subconsciously, your fingers find the pendant, playing with it. 

“It’s fake,” you sigh, “I mean, not the necklace—he’s just pretending. I’m pretending, too. None of this is… real.”

Sophia gasps and Yunjin frowns. 

“Are you… sure? What for?” Sophia asks.

Yunjin nods in agreement. “I’ve always thought that dude had feelings for you, but I… I didn’t realise it’s actually wrong and my deductions were totally off.”

You scoff, though Yunjin’s words left you wondering. “Taesan doesn’t like me—have you girls seen how he treats me?”

“He treats you well,” Yunjin states plainly, shoving a spoonful of rice into her mouth. 

“No,” you immediately shake your head, “he hates seeing me happy! He always finds a way to stick his annoying nose into my life, mocking me. He’s like always, always there to only laugh at my face.” 

“Then why did he agree?” Sophia asks. 

“To what?”

“To fake date you,” she continues, taking a sip of her yakult. “Well, I’m sure you have a plan—a contract and all—don’t you?”

Your eyes widen. How do these two girls know you so well? 

“Yeah. I do. I’m doing all this because of Anton,” the look on your friends’ faces makes you feel a little relieved, “I need him to shut up about me.”

You recall the ridiculous rumour you’ve heard about you from Yunjin, that’s been going around like crazy—the rumour that you used to date Anton because he’s rich and that you used him as a bribe to get outstanding grades. Those close to you knew that is and would never become true—yet people are always jealous of others who have certain things better than them. 

It may seem like a small matter to some, but to you, it’s a matter of reputation. Your whole image and potentially, your graduation is at risk. What if the rumour reaches some professor and they report you? You couldn’t risk the huge amount of money and time you spent, only to be scrapped off the dean’s list due to some rumour. 

Yunjin herself had recorded proof of Anton trying to turn her against you, using that rumour. If she hadn’t shown you the recording, you wouldn’t have believed that sweet, kind Anton was the one who spread those malicious whispers about you.

Now, you’ve got to end it all. One way or another.

You continue finishing your lunch, Taesan somehow in mind. By the end of your lunch, you’re convinced that this is truly all an act—it’s nothing real, and in the end, you’re both just people who hate each other and use each other for selfish, personal reasons.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

“DO I really have to wear your ugly varsity jacket?” Dongmin hears you grunt through the call. He stifles a laugh, tossing a ball up and down. 

“Obviously, you dimwit,” he replies, “you’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?”

Dongmin lets himself smile. The word rolls off his tongue like a simple melody—it feels natural for him to say. He finds it odd, yet entertaining—your reaction is worth it all. Besides, it’s quite refreshing to take a break from hating you, sometimes. 

“Besides, your ex is going to be there,” Dongmin reminds, his voice more throaty than expected. “He’s on the team as well, remember?”

“Yeah,” he catches your quiet answer.  

“Anyway, how do you even have time for all this?” you question from the other end of the line. 

“Hmm,” Dongmin hums, “I do have time.” 

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” you hiss. “You’re in law school, Han Taesan.”

“What? Like it’s hard?”

Dongmin lets out a hearty laugh as he hears you gasp—one of the loudest and most genuine expressions he’s gotten out of you yet. 

“I’m so done with you,” you huff. Dongmin hears you shuffle through your closet, most likely finding something to wear. 

“You say that everytime,” Dongmin whispers to himself softly. 

“Anyway,” you announce loudly, “you better have some food for me once I arrive—I’m wearing your stupid varsity jacket.”

“Alright, sweetheart, anything for you,” Dongmin jests in a sing -song voice.

He hears you yelp in disgust, chuckling. “Yuck! Fuck off, Taesan!”

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

IT’S a friendly match, nothing serious, Taesan had said; yet you’re here amongst other significant others, to watch him and his team play against another school’s team. 

At the bleachers, you feel called out, and insanely out of place. Everyone looks so in love—girlfriends wearing jerseys with their boyfriends’ numbers and names on the back, painted their faces accordingly, and even cheering for them with their hearts; mothers and siblings gathering together to support their sons and brothers.

Everyone looks so genuinely in love, and you’re the only one who’s there just because you have to. You arrived only two minutes before the match started, too, because you obviously don’t love Taesan enough to be rescheduling your work shift to see him play.

You fidget with the edges of the varsity jacket you’re wearing, oddly feeling how it’s perfectly oversized on you. 

Earlier, Taesan had spotted you sitting awkwardly on the bleachers. He ran over to you, quickly handing you a quesadilla and a cup of bubble tea, before jogging back to the basketball court to warm up. He didn’t say anything, nor did you—but the gesture made you feel weirdly fuzzy. 

Taesan did actually get you some food, even though you grumpily yelled at him to do so. You thought he wouldn’t, just so that he could get on your nerves, just like he always does. 

You watch him and the team warm up, pumping up positive energy with each other. You take a bite of your quesadilla, trying to ease your heart—yet you just can’t forget the real reason why you’re here. 

Jersey number 35.

The whistle blows, indicating the start of the game, and you catch Anton’s glance at you. He gives you a wide smile, winking twice—a sign that he made up, thanking you for coming, just like the old days. You grimace, turning away.

The mission is to make it seem like I’m in love with Taesan. 

You intently watch Taesan play in the arena, his moves sharp and powerful. He slips through the opposition’s defense flawlessly, scoring goals smoothly. Every time he throws the ball, it gets into the hoop—people erupt in cheers and he’s surrounded by his teammates. 

And every time, Taesan looks up at you, flashing his signature smirk. His grin sparkles, lighting up the room—it makes you feel like you’re the only one in the huge arena. 

It makes you feel odd. 

Like there’s so much more under that grin he flashes to you every time he scores. 

You touch the pendant on your décolletage, the cold metal stinging against your skin. Your fingers trace the letters—the initials of Taesan’s birth name—reminding you this is all a set-up. You’re supposed to pretend, and Taesan is pretending too. 

He must be.

Taking a deep breath, you tug the varsity jacket closer to your body, shoving your hands into its pockets. The weight of Taesan’s name and number lay heavy on your back, yet you don a bright smile—trying your best to show your support for him. 

Right now, you’re Han Taesan’s girlfriend. Player number 11’s girlfriend.

The match ends with Anton’s final goal, and KOZ Academy’s team wins 115-113. The entire gym erupts in waves of cheer and heartfelt hugs, every attending person feeling proud of their team, losing or not. You jog down the stairs, heading towards Taesan, whose height stands out in the crowd. 

When you reach the end of the stairs, you notice Anton’s gaze on you. You glance at him, the weight of past memories dragging you down. At the end of these exact same stairs, you used to run straight to Anton, engulfing him in a hug after a match. You used to kiss his cheek, congratulating him for a successful game. You used to feel like your entire world revolved around him, and that you would be happy with him. 

But that was in the past. Now, you can look at Anton with nothing in your heart. You feel nothing but plain resentment—damning him for the things he did to you. You had thought he was the love of your life, that you’d grow old with him—but Anton had other plans, and another girl that he prioritised more than you. 

You turn your head away, directing your gaze towards Taesan. He’s talking to his friends, his hair wet from the sweat. He’s grinning proudly, talking about something that’s interesting to boys. 

You sigh. Hopefully this whole set-up works—Anton leaves you alone, the rumours die down, and you can go back to bashing Taesan’s head. 

And hopefully, you can move on, too. Once and for all.

From the corner of your eyes, you see Anton take a step towards you. Though, what you don’t see is that Taesan is faster. He waves at you, calling your name with a big grin, before running to give you a hug. 

Your eyes widen upon the impact, and it’s like everything is in slow motion. 

Taesan pulls away, ruffling your hair. His eyes crinkle with his grin. “Are you proud of me, darling?”

Darling. 

You gulp. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

You give him a laugh, trying your best to not make it sound staged. Your nose crinkles at the smell of sweaty boys. Taesan notices, of course, and he chuckles. 

“Sorry, I must smell bad. I’ll be sure to spray on some more deodorant next time.”

You gaze into Taesan’s eyes, his arms still around your waist. There’s some kind of softness behind his teasing look—something that you’ve never seen before. 

A small smile forms on your lips, one that you’re unable to hold back. “Good job, Taesan.”

“Yeah?” Taesan laughs, his eyes forming crescent moons. “Thanks, Y/N.”

He then leans in to whisper, “that’s the first time I’ve heard that from you.”

You push him away, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off, Taesan. I’ll be waiting at the bus stop.”

Taesan laughs loudly as you stomp away. “By the way,” he yells, “you look good wearing my number, sweetheart!”

You lower your head, biting your lips to fight two things—the urge to flash the middle finger to the jolly Taesan behind you, and the weird fluttering feeling that erupts in your stomach every time he calls you ‘sweetheart’.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

“Y/N,” you turn around, finding a panting Anton in front of you. 

You’re standing in line outside one of the most famous pasta restaurants in the heart of the KOZ School of Medicine square, waiting to buy this one pasta dish you’ve been craving for the entire month. You didn’t tell anyone you’d be here—not even Taesan or the girls—so you’re weirded out by the fact that your ex found you here.

“...Anton,” you curtly acknowledge. 

“Is it true?” he asks. 

You force your eyes close for a second, wishing that it wasn’t wrong to beat someone up. “What?”

“That you’re dating Han Taesan. I saw him kissing your cheek last time.”

Your heart almost stops beating for a second. Almost two months have passed, and almost everyone in the entire campus of KOZ Academy knows that you and Taesan are finally getting tired of fighting each other—falling in love instead. 

Your plan has passed the soft launch phase, and now, you’re having your nemesis call you sweet, adoring nicknames out in public. 

“Yes,” you answer, managing a deadpan expression. “What about it?”

“Do you love him?” 

You narrow your eyes at Anton, feeling like if he keeps on shooting questions like this, he’d go home with a black eye. “Why does it matter if I love him or not?”

“Because,” Anton starts, his voice beginning to waver with every following word, “you used to love me.”

His words hang in the air, thick with a known, cursed history. You could hear your heart stutter for a split second, but you shake your head, quickly suppressing the feeling. You take in a sharp breath, feeling the heat of old anger rise in your chest. You force yourself to look at Anton, eyes hardening.

“That was two years ago, Anton,” you say, your voice detached. “And you made sure to end it, remember?”

Anton’s face flickers with something—guilt, regret, maybe even a hint of fear—but you’re not interested in seeing it. You’re sick of it—too familiar with the way he can spin his words to make himself seem like the victim.

“You don’t get to do this,” you continued, lips tightening into a thin line. “You don’t get to just show up and act like we can pick up where we left off, after what you did with Mina."

Anton’s face darkens the moment your old best friend’s name leaves your mouth, but you hold his gaze without flinching. Anton opens his mouth, probably to throw another lame and poorly explained excuse that you’ve heard before, but you’re faster than he is. 

“Save it,” you snap. “You don’t have any right to ask me if I love Taesan after what you did. You lost that right the moment you lied to me and slept with her.”

Anton looks taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected you to bring that up, but obviously, you don’t care. You’ve held your feelings in for so long—leaving them behind quietly to try and move on without a commotion. You’ve spent enough time letting him walk all over you in the past—you’re not about to let him do it again.

For a moment, Anton looks like he’s about to say something more, but you don’t give him a chance. You turn away, taking a small step back as you glance briefly at the line in front of you. “I’m done with this conversation, Anton. You should be, too.”

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

THE next morning, after your first class of the day, you sigh as you find yourself waiting outside of a rather packed coffee shop—allegedly Taesan’s favourite one—bundled up in Taesan’s scarf. Autumn is starting to give way to winter, and as it’s doing so, the winds and temperatures are getting crazier. You bury your face further into the softness of Taesan’s scarf, letting the mixture of champagne orange, passion fruit, and sugar vanilla attack your senses. It’s disturbing, once the fact that the scarf that’s warming you up belongs to Taesan registers in your head; however, you had no choice. Freezing your nose off was the only other option. 

“Hey,” you hear Taesan’s voice, turning instantly towards him. 

“Apple pie latte?” he says, handing you a warm cup of said coffee. Grabbing it from him, you perk your eyebrows up. 

“How did you know?” you say, pushing the scarf down. Taesan shrugs, sipping his own drink. You glance at the sticker on his cup: cinnamon maple latte.

“Instincts.”

You snicker at his reply, rolling your eyes. “Cut me some slack.”

The two of you then walk back towards the law school complex, where both of your classes will be held next. The winds begin to blow, and you find yourself hiding half your face behind Taesan’s scarf. You squint your eyes, blinking harshly as the stray strands of hair sting them. 

“I love autumn, but not this kind,” you mumble. 

Taesan glances at you, and in one swift motion, he grabs your free hand and shoves it into the pocket of his coat. He interlaces his hand with yours, letting his body warmth transfer to you. 

Your eyes widen, your brain slow at processing the situation. You whip your head towards the tall man walking with you, his expression relaxed as ever. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss, trying to pull away. 

Taesan gives you a look that yells ‘really, Y/N?’. “Keeping you warm?”

“I don’t need your help,” you retort, yanking your hand away. 

Taesan grabs it back, shoving it into his pocket. This time, his grip on your hand is firmer than before. “I don’t need my girlfriend to freeze to death—it’s going to ruin my reputation.”

Realisation hits you, again, like a ton of bricks right at the face. 

Oh. 

“Okay,” you say quietly, letting him do his thing. You look away, deciding to admire the surrounding golden trees. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of how this whole ‘thing’ with Taesan is temporary—and having a personal heat packet isn’t too bad. 

Once the two of you reach the lecture hall together, people begin to clearly spectate. You pull your hand away from him, rushing to your usual seat. Taesan, his expression calm as he always is, walks over to his usual seat as well—directly behind you. 

Then, two minutes before the lecture starts, the person you truly hated comes into view, and decides to sit at the empty seat next to you. 

“Hi, Y/N,” your ex, Anton, greets you with the biggest smile on his face. You mentally sob—already dreading the three hours to come.

You turn away, scooting as far as you could. The memories rush like a flood you can’t stop—reminding you of the heart-tearing pain the boy sitting next to you caused. 

“Y/N? You alright? You look pale,” Anton says, probing further.

“It’s the weather,” you reply dully, your lips downturned. You unravel Taesan’s scarf from your neck, placing it on your lap. Your eyes fixed onto the lecture, you ignore Anton’s attempts to get you conversing with him. 

“Y/N, are you free after class?” Anton whispers, twenty minutes into the lecture. 

“No.” You give him a side glance.

“And you don’t even take IT,” you fake a smile, “so I don’t think you should even be here. With due respect, get lost, yeah?”

“I’m honoured,” Anton whispers back. The soft smile on his face makes you gag. “You still remember things about me.”

“Oh, please,” you grimace, anger beginning to bubble up inside of you. “I’d rather make out with Taesan than remember even the tiniest bit of–”

You suck in your breath sharply, your cheeks flushing at an alarming rate. You had blurted your words out too fast to even register the fact that you’re actually wearing the said person’s initials in a necklace ‘round your neck. 

“You’d rather what now, sweetheart?” 

Hearing Taesan’s voice, you can almost see his smug smirk decorating that annoyingly attractive face of his. 

Your eyes widen. 

I did not just admit that.

You turn to Taesan for a moment, flashing him a sheepish smile. You quickly spin back to face the lecture, forcing yourself to focus. 

After the lecture concluded, you find yourself stuck in a sticky situation—Anton just can’t let you go out. 

“Do you want to go and grab lunch together? It’s pretty late for lunch, and I know your stomach gets upset easily if you don’t eat,” you wince upon hearing his soft tone. 

You frown, hating the fact that Anton knows almost a lot of things about you. “No, Anton, I’m sure I said–”

“She said no, Lee, I’m sure even a stupid motherfucker can understand.”

Seeing Anton’s eyes almost pop out at the sight of Taesan next to you, you’re sure that you look the same. You turn sharply towards Taesan, who has his hand perfectly placed on your back. The look on his face is fierce and scary, like he’s about to completely destroy Anton exactly where he’s standing.  

“Han,” Anton addresses him curtly. “I didn’t know that you’re on… good terms with Y/N.”

You fidget with the charm on your décolletage, collecting every bit of energy you have to maintain a stoic expression. 

Taesan flashes a sly smirk, pride radiating from his eyes as the corners of Anton’s lips twitch. “Why? Is it important to you who I’m close to?”

“No, but given your history with Y/N—I don’t want her to get hurt,” Anton blathers, “so I’m gladly asking you to–”

“What? Fuck off?” Taesan scoffs. Your eyes bulge, somehow not expecting Taesan’s choice of words to be so vulgar. “I think that’s what you’re supposed to do, Lee.”

“Y/N,” Anton says, desperation vivid in his voice. He grabs your wrist, and you instinctively step back. “C’mon, let’s go. I know you don’t like this stupid asshole here–”

Before you could even act, Taesan steps in front of you, shoving Anton to the floor. The students who are still lingering around stop to look. You couldn’t hold in your gasp—Taesan looks extremely angry, you swear you could see fire in his eyes. 

A thought clicks into your head. 

Taesan is the it-boy, of course he’s good at acting.

You take a step back, weirded by the heavy feeling of disappointment that begins to cloud your heart as soon as you remember the arrangement. 

It’s just acting, Y/N. Get it together. 

“Don’t touch her, bastard,” you hear Taesan hiss before he turns to you. Anger still lingering around, you watch with silence as Taesan relaxes the tension in his jaw. In a mirroring silence, he gestures for you to follow him out. You nod.

As you turn on your heel, Anton calls out, visibly irritated. 

“Y/N,” he says, “what’s going on?”

You give him a mocking smile. You swing Taesan’s scarf around your neck. “I don’t think I owe you an explanation, Anton.”

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

AS you and Taesan walk out of the lecture hall, you can’t ignore the heavy weight settling in your chest. It keeps replaying in your mind: the way Taesan stepped in, fiercely protective—it’s all an act, right? You sneak a glance at Taesan, but his face is unreadable, his jaw still slightly clenched from the encounter.

“Taesan… you didn’t have to do that,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his scarf.

Taesan exhales through his nose, his shoulders rising slightly. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he then adds under his breath, “fucking bastard.”

You blink, unintentionally slowing your steps. That’s… different from what you expected.

“Taesan,” you try again, but he shoves his hands into his pockets, picking up the pace.

You know you should just let it go, but the air between the two of you feels heavier than it was before. Was it just an act? Maybe it was—and that Taesan’s acting skills are as good as the rom-com actors—but something about the way he had looked at Anton; like he was seconds away from doing more than just shoving him to the ground. 

It feels too… real.

A sudden gust of wind cuts through your coat, making you shiver. Instantly, Taesan grabs your wrist and pulls you into a nearby convenience store.

“Sit,” he orders, disappearing for a moment. You watch him move through the aisles, confusion twisting in your chest. You take a seat exactly where he ordered you to, your head fuzzy from the mixture of confusing, unnamed emotions.

When he returns, he kneels slightly, pressing a warm drink and a heat pack into your hands, his fingers lingering just a second too long.

“You’re hopeless,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “First my scarf, now this.”

You gasp dramatically, rolling your eyes as your lips twitch, your heart knocking against your ribs. “You’re the one who keeps giving me things.”

Taesan just hums in response, his gaze locking onto yours. His usual unreadable expression softens, something almost unreadable flickering in his eyes.

Your grip tightens on the cup, trying to shake off the way your body reacts to his warmth. This whole thing with Taesan was supposed to be temporary. So why did it feel like something had changed?

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

DONGMIN takes several deep breaths, his eyes shut. The jazz music plays in the background, and the buzz of the cafe calms him down. 

No wonder Y/N likes this place. 

Dongmin opens his eyes, finding himself staring at you ordering drinks and some food for the two of you. You had dragged him here as soon as you finished your drink at the convenience store, repeating that you needed to treat him to some food. Your voice rings in his head, telling him that he needed to follow you to the coffee shop, to cool off his steam. 

“Do you like apple pie?” you ask, setting a plate of two slices of said dessert, accompanied by two scoops of vanilla ice cream.

“Why do you even ask if you’ve already gotten it? Seems like my preference doesn’t matter,” Dongmin replies, putting on the usual smirk. 

Your eyes widen and he chuckles. 

“Well,” you huff, “I like apple pie—and it’s impossible to find someone who doesn’t.”

“Alright,” Dongmin laughs, and it hits. His laughter dies down as the realisation sinks in—watching you devour your slice of apple pie like it’s the only food you’ll eat until the end of time. 

Dongmin, as he puts a bite of his food into his mouth, realises how messed up he is. He realises how often a hearty laugh escapes him when he’s with you—how a flustered, frustrated mess you make him. 

“Why are you being nice to me?” Dongmin asks. He pokes his fork absentmindedly into the crust of the apple pie, second guessing his question the moment it leaves him. 

You and he had always, always been rivals—a pair that’s never meant to get along. He’d always find you muttering curses and throwing glares in his direction; and he’d always find himself trying his best to reciprocate your disdain for him. 

Dongmin does hate you, too. 

He hates how you’re so confident, so diligent, so talented. He despises how hard you work, how determined you are, how you seem to always effortlessly bring him down and defeat him in academics. He feels the most intense dislike for you—whenever you walk in the room, he feels like the world is about to explode, along with his sanity. 

Dongmin hates, with a burning passion, how he can’t stop himself from falling in love with you. He absolutely loathes the way you smile, the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh, and the way you look at him—with such fiery determination that’s enough to knock him off his feet. He completely hates the way that he has to keep his tongue sharp, and his attitude insufferable, for you to give him a sliver of your attention. He perfectly hates the way it’s impossible for him to let you know that he doesn’t hate you, at all. 

Dongmin watches you open your mouth to reply, yet you don’t for a few moments. You return his gaze, uncertainty playing around in her eyes. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion. “We’re just eating apple pie, Taesan,” you laugh sheepishly. 

For the first time, Dongmin doesn’t have an immediate answer. He swallows the bite of apple pie in his mouth, unsure of what he should say next. His smirk fades and hesitation engulfs him.

You notice this, of course, and your frown deepens. Though, before you could do anything, Jaehyun—Dongmin’s friend, suddenly appears.

He greets Dongmin, patting his shoulder. “Yo, Taesan, long time no see! Wait–” he pauses, laying his eyes on you. “Wait, am I dreaming? You two? Sitting together? Laughing? Are pigs flying now?”

You immediately shake your head, laughing along with Jaehyun. Dongmin, on the other hand, is dazed. He stays silent, still unsure of what to say. He’s finding everything peculiar—the way he’s unable to say anything, the way that his heart is thumping loudly against his chest at the mention of you as his girlfriend. 

He watches you politely say goodbye to Jaehyun, gaining certainty with every beat of his heart. 

His little crush on you is resurfacing, after two years of pushing it down with faked hatred. 

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

AFTER Jaehyun leaves, you let yourself sneak a glance at Taesan, who’s absentmindedly poking holes in his already destroyed pie crust, avoiding your gaze. You notice his oddly quiet state—the Taesan you know would never miss the chance to throw in a witty remark. 

You throw him a glare, slightly hoping it’d make him knock out of his trance. You set your fork down with an audible clink. “You’re being weird. I mean, you always are insufferably weird, but this is even weirder.”

Taesan scoffs, lifting his drink to his lips. “And you’re being annoying. Paranoid.”

You cross your arms, an annoyed grimace forming on your face. “Am I?”

Taesan holds your gaze for a moment too long, something flickering in his eyes before he looks away. “Maybe not.”

Oh.

You lean back, sighing dramatically. “Fine. I don’t get what you being weird has with me being paranoid, but yeah, I’m totally being paranoid. Definitely imagining things,” you scoff sarcastically.

Taesan hums in agreement. “You do that a lot.”

You choke on air. Glaring at Taesan, you retort, “you’re infuriating.”

“And yet, here you are, sharing dessert with me,” Taesan smirks, tilting his head. 

You pause, blinking profusely.

That… is a valid point. How did you even get here? You and Taesan are supposed to be rivals. Aren’t you supposed to hate each other?

Your stomach twists, and suddenly, you find it difficult to swallow your final bites of apple pie.

After moments of deafening silence, you say, your voice slightly wavering, “you’re unbelievably good at dodging questions, Taesan.”

You bring your drink to your lips, hoping that you sounded casual. 

Taesan looks up from his finished plate of apple pie, smirking as he leans back. “Oh, yeah? Have you ever considered that you’re too good at asking too many questions, and it’s insufferable?”

Your eyes widen slightly, flickering to the way that his eyes glare vaguely at you. “Maybe I am,” you admit quietly, “but you’re dodging the real ones.”

Taesan’s smirk falters a little bit, just for a second, and there’s something unrecognisable in his eyes. Something you can’t put a name on. 

Maybe a shift in the air. Maybe it’s just your imagination. Or maybe it’s because your heart is racing just a little too fast.

You’re so focused on trying to read Taesan’s expressions that you don’t notice the way your voice softens. “So… if this whole thing is an act, why do I keep feeling like you actually care?”

You mentally hit yourself. That isn’t what you meant to say—and it’s certainly not what you would say in front of Taesan.

Though, it’s out before you can stop yourself. The words hang in the air, heavy and uncertain.

Taesan freezes, his eyes widening with a vulnerability for a fraction of a second. Then, just as quickly as it came, his guard comes back up. “Like we’ve discussed before, it’s an act. Nothing more.”

His voice is stern and plain, and his expression is stoic, but you catch the tremble in his hand as he’s fiddling with his fork. 

That, somehow, doesn’t sit right with you. 

You learn forward, the pendant swinging against your décolletage, your expression more serious now. “Then why do you care so much?”

You watch him closely, catching the tightening in his jaw and the way his hand proceeds to rest on the table, fingers anxiously tapping against the wood. Taesan doesn’t answer immediately, and instead, he looks away to drift his gaze to the window.

Your chest suddenly tightens. He’s acting like this is nothing, but you certainly feel it—the crack in the walls you’ve both constructed carefully against each other. It’s a tug at the back of your mind, a repeating whisper you’ve been trying so hard to push away.

And yet, the silence between you feels louder than ever.

Minutes pass by and the silence gets louder and louder. You’re lost in your own thoughts—realising just how much you’re affected by Taesan; just how much more you’re feeling than you want to admit. In the silence, you’re wondering, are you just imagining all this? Maybe it’s just you, maybe it’s the fact that you’re finding something more from this fake relationship you have with Taesan, your nemesis. 

Though, there’s something that you can’t deny: the fact that your chest tightens with fluttering butterflies every time he gets too close, every time his words shift to something softer than usual, it’s something that makes your heart trip in your chest.

“Y/N,” Taesan calls, his voice softer than anticipated, and you’re pulled out of your train of thought. You look at him slowly, uncertain and afraid of what’s to come. He pauses, as if he’s unsure of what to say next. “What if… I told you I’m not sure if I can pretend much longer?” 

His gaze finally meets yours, and for a moment, there’s no mask—just the raw sincerity in his eyes.

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You open your mouth, trying to say something—but nothing comes out. The evident truth in his words hits you like an ocean wave on a sunny day, and you can’t help but feel something is shifting between you both.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

THE next few weeks pass by like a ridiculously large time-skip in a movie. You’re doing things like you usually do—attend classes, do mootings, send in assignments, study for exams. Though, there’s one big thing in your life that you can’t ignore—Taesan, your fake-dating arrangement, and the lingering, unspoken tension between the two of you. The first week after the coffee shop episode, you couldn’t sleep even a wink—your mind kept on replaying the scenes over and over again, the way you caught Taesan’s guard almost falling down. You’re sure you felt it too, the cracks in the walls you’ve built against him—even for a short moment. 

At school, you’re hyper aware and extra distracted by Taesan. He’s doing his part of the agreement well, acting like he agreed he would. Every glance from him feels like a load of unspoken words, and the air between you two feels heavy. Every day you ponder, unsure of what to do with the new, fragile tension that’s settled between you and Taesan.

Today is the same—everything passes in a blur of lectures, assignments, and studying. You drag your heavy footsteps out of the room, your head spinning at the thought of the many assignments waiting for you. You look up, and the moment you step into the hallway, you see Taesan leaning against the wall, phone in hand, looking as calm as ever. 

You walk near him, and your eyes meet—you see a flicker of something there—a tension, a question neither of you have the answer to. 

“Y/N,” Taesan greets you with a casual, unreadable smile. You pause in your steps, turning to face him.

“Hi,” you reply quite timidly. You’re trying to sound casual, but you can hear the slight hitch in your voice. There’s no pretending this isn’t different now. There’s no pretending you didn’t almost cross a line last time. 

Taesan takes a final glance at his phone before shoving it into his pocket. “Still pretending this is just an act?” he asks, his voice surprisingly soft but laced with something familiar, almost teasing.

You pause, your breath stuck in your throat. Your heart, yet again, skips a beat, and you try to brush it off by laughing nervously. “Me? Pretending? I’m not pretending,” you say, and it’s directed more towards yourself than to him.

You’re not sure who’s trying to convince who anymore.

Taesan looks taken aback. He blinks profusely before putting his usual, calm expression back on. “Yeah,” he whispers, nodding, “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

You watch him walk away, heart twisting in the weirdest way. 

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

DONGMIN hates the way everything is now. Why can’t he just tell you everything? Why can’t he just tell you that he isn’t pretending, that he actually cares?

He wants to stop everything–going back to shoving insults at your face might be the safest option of them all. Yet, Dongmin finds himself caring for you in the little ways—wrapping his scarf around your neck, adjusting the placement of your bangs with a simple ruffle, placing a tin of coffee and bread in front of you whenever you seem exhausted with studying, sliding post-its to you with his handwriting reminding you to take breaks when needed. He still finds his heart racing upon seeing you; the way your lips pout when you’re deep in thought, the way you smile and laugh so adorably upon hearing a funny joke from your friends, the way you’re still so cute even when frustrated. 

As he walks away, Dongmin fights with his own heart. Why was he acting like this? It’s so clear that you’re expecting something more, but why is he pushing you away? 

Dongmin takes a deep breath. Yeah, he’s scared. He’s afraid that maybe it’s all in his head, maybe you’re the one acting so well and it’s just gotten to him. 

Dongmin swears to get himself together, but it looks like he’s going to need more than just mental affirmations. 

The next day, he misses his alarm, for the first time in forever, and is running late to his 9 AM lecture. He’s speed walking through students, dodging them with a bag hanging on one shoulder and his hair still partially wet. Just as he’s about to near the entrance of the Law building, he hears raised voices nearby. He puts his hood up, his first instinct is to ignore it all—he’s got no time to eavesdrop on people’s business. However, he recognises one of the two quarrelling voices—yours. 

Dongmin’s steps come to a halt, and he turns to face you. His eyes slightly widen and his shoulders begin to tense as he sees you and Anton standing a few feet away, locked in an argument. He’s a bit too far away to hear the full conversation, yet he catches some bits of it.

You’re standing at your full height, stiffly in front of Anton, arms crossed and eyes blazing with fury. Anton, on the opposite side of you, no longer has that sickening, innocent smile—instead, he’s flashing you a mocking smirk. 

The argument is already reaching its peak, yet Dongmin is quick to analyse the situation just by picking up a few bits. 

“You think you’re really something, don’t you?” Anton taunts.

You scoff. Dongmin could tell you’re offended, yet the mask you put on really makes a difference. “At least I don’t have to put other people down to feel important.”

Anton scoffs back, “please. You act like you’re above all this, but you’re just as desperate for attention as everyone else.”

Dongmin clenches his jaw, watching the argument unfold as his fingers begin to twitch. 

You give Anton a mocking laugh, stepping forward. “I don’t care what you think, Anton Lee. I don’t care if you think I don’t love Taesan, because what matters is my own feelings, not yours. And I’m done wasting my time on you.”

Before you could turn away and enter the building, Anton grabs your wrist. 

It’s not aggressive, but it’s enough. Enough to make Dongmin see red.

Everything’s a blur—one second later, he’s towering in front of Anton, his eyes glaring daggers. 

“Let her go,” his voice is low and threatening, as sharp as a blade. 

Anton looks up, initially startled, but as soon as he sees Dongmin, he rolls his eyes. His hand still around your wrist, he says with a sneer, “look who’s here, Y/N’s knight in shining armour! Oh, so great, always the hero.”

Dongmin is too busy counting down the ways he could destroy Anton’s life to be noticing how immediate the warmth creeps up your cheeks. Dongmin, in one fluid motion, steps closer, standing between you and Anton. 

“Did you hear me?” his voice drops deadly lower than before, his posture relaxed yet his eyes are dangerous. “Let. Go.”

Anton huffs, roughly letting go of your hand. He shakes his head. “You two are seriously something else,” he mutters before storming away. 

You and Dongmin stand next to each other, cautiously eyeing Anton until he disappears from sight. For that moment, none of you say anything.

“What was that for?” you say suddenly, crossing your arms. “I didn’t need you to step in.”

Dongmin shoves his hood down to his neck, raising his eyebrow. Feeling slightly irritated, he scorns. “Yeah? Looked like you were having a great time.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, but something pinches Dongmin’s heart as he notices there’s no real bite behind it. “I’m fine—I had it all handled.”

Silence. 

Dongmin exhales sharply, words shooting out of his mouth without second thought. “I know. It’s just–” 

He stops, his eyes landing on your wrist. Closes his mouth. 

You wait for a few moments, before warily asking. “What? Just what?”

Dongmin hesitates. Suddenly, it’s all he can push out of his throat. He’s already there, halfway crossing the line he’s put between you and him for the past two years. 

And then, it just… slips out. 

“I just can’t stand it, okay?”

Your frown deepens, confused. “Stand… what?”

Dongmin lets out a frustrated breath, turning sharply to completely face you. “I can’t stand seeing you with people like that fucking bastard. I can’t stand watching you get into these stupid situations. And I really, really can’t stand how much I—”

His eyes widen, and his words stumble upon a stop. Dongmin stammers, realising what he was just about to say. 

“Taesan,” you call, gently, hope suddenly shimmering in your eyes. “How much you what?”

Dongmin freezes. He’s silent, tongue frozen, unable to utter another word.

He can’t say it. 

Instead, he runs a hand through his hair, muttering curses under his breath. 

“You know what?” 

“Taesan–”

“Next time,” he says quickly, in a softer voice, “don’t… waste your time on a guy like him.”

Your eye contact is still intact, you open your mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. Your eyes widen for a split second—as if you’re catching on to the feelings displayed, unknowingly, on Dongmin’s face. 

His concern is real.

“W-we should go,” you stammer instead, gesturing to the Law building. 

Dongmin nods. He grabs your backpack from you, signalling for you to walk in first. “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

You force yourself to walk as swiftly as possible to the lecture hall, heart pounding, mind racing. Behind you, Dongmin’s entire body is tense. He’s finally realising he can’t keep his feelings for you hidden forever.

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

THE next day, you can’t stop thinking about Taesan—and whatever he was about to say to you. Your mind races with a million different thoughts throughout the day. What if he actually feels the same? What if you’re not the only one looking for something more in this fake arrangement?

However, given that exams are looming closer, you’re only given a short amount of time to dwell on your thoughts. After your last class of the day, you find yourself cooped up in the library, studying the rest of the day away. Several of your friends join you, too. 

The study group grows, joined by both your friends and Taesan’s—though, you didn’t even realise that Taesan is sitting across you the entire day, until everyone starts leaving one by one. 

By midnight, it’s only you and him. You don’t look up, but you can feel your heart thumping faster than usual. You’re hyper aware of your surroundings—how close he is, how his scent feels comforting yet intimidating, and how his presence is reminding you of something that you’re too afraid to admit. 

“Y/N,” you open your eyes to someone gently shaking your shoulder, the reality of things crashing onto you all at once. You lift your head up, realising that you fell asleep in the middle of reviewing a past paper. Your eyes meet with Taesan’s concerned gaze. 

His voice is low and soft, as if it’s only for you. “Let’s take a break. You’ve been snoozing off way too many times.”

Your heart is beating a little faster than usual, but you agree. Taesan’s request seems too casual, and he looks like he needs a break too. 

You follow his lead, walking a little bit behind him to the convenience store that’s still open in campus grounds. He’s silent, observing you and letting you pick anything you want before paying for both your things and his. 

“Go sit,” he says, holding your instant tteokbokki package in hand, along with his instant noodles. “I’ll heat these up.”

Taesan quickly moves to the microwave before you can say anything in retaliation, a sign that you take seriously. He’s not in the mood for any fights. 

You take a seat, and soon after, Taesan joins you. He puts your instant meal in front of you, breaking your chopsticks for you. 

“Here,” he says, his voice quiet. “Careful, the tteok is still hot.”

He then slips his coat around you before turning back to his own beverages. 

You find yourself staring at him, long after he’s handed you your things. You watch him, peacefully releasing his tension—running a hand through his hair, chugging down a cup of coffee. 

Everything around you looks like it has a blurred filter on, yet one thing is crystal clear: Taesan, and his evident care for you. The longer you stare at him, the more you realise.

He’s always been the one. He’s always been there. 

It hits you harder than any bad grade has ever done. 

Taesan has always been like this—quietly looking out for you, quietly caring for you. 

All this while, all the banter, the little arguments, moments, and glances—it’s not just rivalry. It’s not just the fact that he always finds a way to make you all grumbly and irritated. It’s not just the fact that, even back when you were with Anton, he’d always find a way to show his care for you. 

It’s not just the fact that you enjoy his company, even if he makes you feel like you want to bang your head against the wall. 

You like him. 

You like Han Taesan. 

You quickly turn your head away, blood rushing to your head as soon as the realisation hits you. You stuff a few bites of instant tteokbokki into your mouth, wanting to quickly get rid of whatever this warm, refreshing feeling is. 

“Can you stop looking at me like that, L/N?” 

You cough, shocked at how his sudden comment breaks through the almost comforting silence. All the past moments you’ve had with him—the banter, the insults, the arguments—run through your head as soon as your last name, what Taesan had always called you, reaches your ears.

“Like what?” emboldened by the awakening of your feelings, you retort, your tone more challenging than you intended. 

Taesan snaps, pushing his chair back, raking a frustrated hand through his hair. 

“Like I’m your fucking boyfriend.”

“What?” you’re confused, not expecting that out of his mouth. “What are you–”

“Like you’re waiting for me to say something that I know I can’t take back.”

“Say it, then.”

You say, challenging him. It feels sentimental—like the old days, where all you did when you met Taesan was throw taunting words at him. But at the same time, the words come out of your mouth without realising—daring the two of you to finally cross the line. 

“I like you, okay? I probably love you at this point, I don’t know. I don’t know when it started, but I do. And I—” He exhales sharply, his voice softer. “I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t.”

The world stops spinning and you stare at him, blank. 

Your tongue feels numb, your heart racing at a million miles per hour. 

You feel the same, you’re sure, but you don’t know how to respond. Do you smile and say it back? Do you tease him, calling him an idiot like you always do? 

“I didn’t mean to fall for you,” you catch Taesan muttering. 

You smile. “Me too,” you say softly. 

Taesan lifts his head immediately, sharply turning to you with widened eyes. “... pardon?”

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

THE next few days feel like a refreshing spring breeze in the peak of winter, yet the air is filled with a cute awkwardness. After the confession, neither of you explicitly announce to one another that the two of you are a real couple now—yet your interactions feel new and unscripted, but no one exactly is making the first move. 

Of course, your friends notice before the two of you do. 

You’re sitting at the food hall together with Yunjin and Sophia, eating breakfast. You’re halfway through your pancakes, and Taesan—or Dongmin, as you call him now—suddenly takes a seat next to you. 

“Mind if I join, girls?” he asks, a charming grin on his face. He’s asking the table, yet his gaze is directed to you. You bite your lip shyly, nodding.  

“Sure, make yourself at home,” Yunjin says, her words laced with teasing. She watches with eagle eyes as Dongmin puts all of the sliced bananas from his serving of pancakes onto yours, knowing that you especially enjoy them with your breakfast pancakes. She snorts at the obvious look of love in Dongmin’s eyes, more evident now that he isn’t shoving insults at your face. “So, you two are really dating now?”

You choke on your bite of pancake, immediately blurting out,

“No!”

“Yes.”

You sharply turn to Dongmin, who has a smug look on his face. It’s the one look on his face that you’re used to, yet there’s a tint of pink on his cheeks. The edge of his smirk twitches, threatening to form into a cute, lovesick smile. 

“...I see,” Sophia interrupts your awkward eye contact, sighing dramatically. 

“We’re dating?” you ask Dongmin acutely, your brows connecting in an embarrassed frown. 

“I don’t know,” Dongmin shrugs casually, the look in his eyes teasing. “Are we?”

The blush that instantly creeps up your cheeks tells you the answer. You look away, suddenly focused on the way you’re cutting your pancakes. Dongmin’s laugh echoes to your left, and your friends’ send you teasing looks. 

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

A few months later, on the first week back after winter break, you go on a walk around campus with your boyfriend, Han Dongmin. It feels weird, calling him yours now. Just almost half a year ago, you were fighting your ego to have your nemesis fake-date you in order to intimidate your ex into leaving you and your life alone. Now, that same thorn in your side has become the light of your life, the apple of your eye. Now, the two of you are in something that’s not written on a flimsy contract.

Dongmin had also helped clear out the rumours surrounding you—in the most annoying, Han Taesan way—announcing the truth about Anton by spreading it like a rumour to everyone. You still get second-hand embarrassment remembering that day, bombarded by questions and apologies from acquaintances and people you’ve only seen around. 

“You know,” you say dreamily, distracted by your train of thought, “you’re so annoying—but I love you.”

Dongmin freezes, his steps coming to an immediate halt. You, too, freeze in your steps as you realise you’re a few steps ahead of him now. You turn around, eyebrows perked up. “What’s wrong, Dongmin?”

Dongmin. 

The sound of your voice calling his birth name repeats in his mind, like a favourite song on loop. He stares, unable to say anything. His eyes fall on the pendant dangling from your neck, one that you started wearing due to the fake-dating arrangement. He remembered insisting that you take it off, so that he can buy you a new one later, but you said that it’s special so you won’t take it off. 

I love you. 

Dongmin feels a smile slowly bloom on his face. 

She said it. She didn’t even hesitate. It’s like it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

His face softens, jogging up to you. He gives you a cheeky smile. 

“Say that again.”

You frown. “What again?”

“The first part.”

“What–” you pause, eyes widening as you get what he’s talking about. Heat rushes up your cheeks, warming your face despite Dongmin’s scarf wrapped around it. “I–”

“Yeah,” Dongmin says, smirking as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Me too.”

You bury yourself into the familiar scent of Dongmin’s scarf as he kisses your cheek. 

“Fuck you, Han Dongmin,” you grumble, ignoring the obvious butterflies in your stomach. 

　　 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ˚　　 ▒ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

THAT weekend, you and Dongmin are eating lunch together at your favourite coffee shop. Dongmin had said that the vibes there makes him sleepy, and tried to bring you to eat at one of the more famous restaurants near the KOZ School of Engineering, yet the plan backfires on him when the line is certainly too long. 

Now, the two of you are back at your favourite coffee shop, sipping warm cinnamon lattes. 

“See?” you tease, smiling cheekily. “I told you this place is the best.”

Dongmin rolls his eyes, taking a big spoonful of the chocolate cinnamon roll on your plate. “I want to eat some real food, like kimchi jjigae, not these sweet chocolate desserts,” he complains, though he can’t hide the fact that he secretly loves it. 

“Yet you’re the one finishing my cinnamon roll,” you retort, letting him subconsciously finish your dessert. You’re familiar with his love for chocolate.

Dongmin flashes you an innocent smile, shrugging. “Not my fault.”

Comfortable silence engulfs the two of you, letting you bask in each other’s presence. Suddenly, Dongmin leans closer, adjusting the place of the H.D pendant on your décolletage. Frozen, you watch him lean back into his seat, smiling as he admires you. 

“You look good today,” he murmurs, “actually, you look good everyday.”

An undeniable tint of pink colours your face. “I’m literally wearing a black turtleneck sweater, Dongmin.”

His gaze softens. “Like the first time you sat next to me, three years ago, during our foundation year.”

Your eyes widen, your mind replaying the memory, fresh like it happened yesterday. “You… remember?” 

“Of course,” Dongmin replies, his smile delicate. 

“I even remember the day you walked up to me, confident and all. I thought you were going to brag to my face that you won first place for the quiz we had the day before, but then you told me to fake date you.”

You almost spit out the coffee from your mouth. “Han Dongmin!” you hiss. “Don’t remind me… it was so stupid.”

“Stupid?” Dongmin asks, tilting his head. The signature cocky smirk is back on his face. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah…” you sigh, “I mean, I could’ve resolved the matter by myself, you know–”

“But you know that I’m the best option,” Dongmin cuts you off, smug. You roll your eyes.

“I don’t think it’s stupid, though,” he continues, his expression softer. More… raw. “To be honest, I think I was ecstatic that you walked up to me that day.”

“Why?” you ask croakily. 

“‘Cause I’ve always liked you, Y/N. I always have. I just don’t understand where things went wrong—maybe it’s the way I thought teasing you would gain me your attention at first. It did. But then, you became used to my teasing and thought of me as a threat—maybe ‘cause I’m smart as hell, too—but yeah. I don’t know how to say it but, all of that hatred was… pretend.”

You blink at him, too shocked to process his words. You try to reply, but mere stuttering comes out, and your face turns bright red. 

Dongmin notices this, of course, and he turns on his shameless, impudent grin. “Besides, you said you’re going to grant me any wish that I have, right?”

Oh. 

You inhale sharply. How could you forget? You immediately bring out your phone, checking the balance in your bank account. It’s quite a luxury, due to you working a few part time jobs during your break and whenever you can—but you certainly don’t think it’s fit for whatever grand wish Dongmin is about to demand from you. 

“Fine,” you huff, “only because it’s part of our… old contract.”

“Old contract, huh?” Dongmin wheezes, already laughing hard. You frown, fighting back a smile. 

“Why are you always laughing whenever I speak, dumbass?”

“Hey,” Dongmin pauses his laughter, flicking your forehead gently. It doesn’t even hurt, but you gasp dramatically, and he laughs it off. “It’s babe for you, sweet girl. And, I’m not laughing at you. I’m just admiring how cute and funny you are.”

Babe, huh?

You snort, hiding a smile. “Fine.”

“Anyway, speaking of the old contract,” Dongmin grins, “what’s the new one, then?”

“You haven’t even told me what sort of dumb, overpriced thing you want for your wish,” you say, lips set in a grim line. “And now you want another one?”

“My wish, huh?”

The unreadable look on his face makes you brace yourself and your wallet.

“Then, my darling, this is my wish.”

Dongmin leans forward, brushing his lips against yours. It’s subtle, short and sweet, but significant enough for you to realise it all—the reality of your feelings and his. He lingers for a while before sitting back in his chair. 

“So,” he says coolly, ignoring the plain blush streaked across his face. “Can you grant me the wish? To kiss you anytime, and anywhere I want?”

“Basically, physical affection can be done anytime?” you say, quoting what this man in front of you said months ago, when both of you first agreed on the fake-dating situation. The whole absurd set-up that brought the two of you to where you are, today. 

Dongmin laughs, clearly impressed. “Yeah,” he nods. 

You give him a warm smile, glad that you’re finally able to follow your heart’s desires, and to not put up a wall of defense around him anymore. 

“Wish granted.”

― © htaesan, 2025.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀want more like this? check out the 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

[etherealyoungk]

─ ♡ crash course in romance | kwon soonyoung

SUMMARY: meet kwon soonyoung, he’s the ultimate goofball—sweet and chaotic but clueless when it comes to romance. so when you ask him to be your fake boyfriend even though you barely know him, he says yes, even though he's never dated before and has no idea what to do. as you show him the ropes and coach him on how to be the perfect boyfriend and slowly get to know him, soonyoung finds himself slowly falling for you. and maybe, just maybe, you're falling for him too.

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader

GENRE: strangers to lovers, fake dating, best friend’s brother, first love, light slow burn, humour, rom com.

WARNINGS: kissing, fluff, light angst, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption, use of curse words, little suggestive (towards the end), cameo of roommate!seungkwan and other svt members, hoshi being a clueless idiot

WORDCOUNT: 40.8k

A/N: FINALLY A LONG FIC FOR MY HUSBAND AAAA . this fic is part of the lonely hearts cafe collab by @camandemstudios! i had so much fun writing this fic. yapped to much and ended up with 40k but i'm so proud of this fic. thank you to @wheeboo for hearing me crash out over this fic. it is also set in the same universe as her chan fic! and thank you to cam and em for hosting this lovely collab! please support the other writers in this collab and check out their amazing fics too! i would love to know what you think so feedback is always appreciated <3 thank you to @diamonddaze01 and sar @cheolhub for beta-ing the fic!

you’re about to pull up at your best friend, jihyo’s place. you dial her number, calling her up and she picks up after four rings, her voice filling the space in your car.

“hey”, she says as she picks up. “hey jihyo, i’m about to reach your place to collect my mail and other packages”, you say. “oh, i’m actually not at home right now, but i’ll tell soonyoung to hand them over to you, i think he’s dropped by”, jihyo informs and you can hear the bustle of people talking through the phone as she speaks, assuming she must be at work. “sure, okay”, you say and jihyo mumbles something about calling you back later before cutting the call. you pull up at her driveway a few minutes later.

you step out of the car and walk up to the house, ringing the doorbell. usually you’d ring the doorbell and walk right in, but considering she wasn’t there, you didn’t want to suddenly intrude, it felt odd. you wait a few moments and you can hear the shuffle of feet from the inside, along with a soft thud of something falling, probably a box. the door finally opens and you’re greeted by kwon soonyoung—jihyo’s younger brother.  

“hey, yn right?”, he says when he sees you. “jihyo told me you’re here to collect your mail and stuff”, he tells with a slightly frazzled face, like he was put to this task last at the minute and had no idea what to do, like a deer in headlights. you nod and he gestures for you to enter. you walk inside as he disappears back into the other room, probably to fetch your mail. you’d asked jihyo to drop by your place if she could to collect your mail since you’d been out of town for two weeks on a business trip and you didn’t want anyone stealing your packages or snooping around.

you’d known jihyo ever since you joined university. she was your roommate and now bestfriend. she was kind, sweet, funny and a little chaotic, but you loved everything about her. so naturally, you’d been to her house countless times, and met her brother too— soonyoung. he was two years younger than jihyo and you, and he was always so sweet. when you’d come over during the break or to hang out, you’d see soonyoung occasionally or bump into him when you were entering or leaving, as he’d always be doing his own thing. but now, you were probably seeing him for the first time since you graduated university and started a job, having moved a little further away into the city. so it’s been almost three years since you saw soonyoung again, because whenever you’d meet jihyo now, it was always in the city or somewhere out, not at her family home.

soonyoung had changed a lot. he’d grown tall and his hair that had been virgin black was now dyed a silver blonde. it had grown too, his hair falling over his forehead in a cute shaggy mess and growing a little long at the ends, almost at the beginning stages of a mullet and somehow, he pulled it off—t looked good on him. his face was framed by soft rounded features and he somehow raidated a youthful, approachable glow about him. his almond shaped eyes are soft, but also sharp, holding warmth in them, and lastly he had definitely been hitting the gym because he looked different—he looked good.

two minutes later, soonyoung walks into the room holding a big box with a smaller box stacked on top of it along with a few small parcels and envelopes. “this is all the stuff”, he announces, like he’d just accomplished a huge task by collecting all of this for you. 

“thanks!”, you say, taking a step forward to take the box but he speaks again. “let me load it up in your car, it’s a bit heavy”, he says as he looks at you, blinking. “okay, sure”, you say and you open the door, walking outside towards your car with soonyoung following beside you. you unlock the car and pop open the trunk and soonyoung sets down the pile of boxes with a soft thud before taking a step back. 

“thanks again soonyoung”, you say, looking up at him. now that he was right next to you, you realise how tall he’d actually grown. he gives you a polite smile as he runs a hand through his silver blonde hair, the strands of hair getting messed up, falling over his forehead in a cutely disheveled manner. “it’s no problem”, he says and with that you give him another small wave and head out, heading back home.

when you get home, you find your apartment spick and span—quite the contrast to which you had left it, considering you had left on the business trip in a rather short notice. but now as you walk inside, your shoes are all neatly lined up by the side, the bunch of laundry that had been rotting on your bed for two weeks was neatly folded and kept aside in your wardrobe. your mugs, which had piled up were all neatly rinsed and washed and your fridge was stocked with new food—no doubt all the doings of your mother. 

you immediately reach for your phone and dial your mother’s number and she picks up almost immediately, like she had been waiting for you to call. you drag your suitcase to your room and leave it there, taking off your coat and throwing it on your bed.

“mom, did you drop by?”, you ask, already knowing the answer, but you liked to tease her. you visibly hear her sigh and you hold back your laugh.

“no darling, a ghost dropped by your apartment”, she deadpans, making you let out the laugh that you were holding. “i don’t even think a ghost would want to live in your apartment in that state”, she adds. 

“i was busy and i had to leave on short notice”, you counter. “that’s what you always say”, she says and you scowl. “it was really short notice this time”, you say and she only hums in response.

“thank you mom, i love and appreciate you for that”, you say after a moment. “i made your favourite, it’s in the fridge”, she adds and you smile. your mom really knew the way to your heart. you walk towards the kitchen and fill the kettle with some water.

“so, did you meet any cute guys on your trip”, she asks and you let out a small groan at her question. of course that’s what she’d ask you first, not how the trip was or how work had been.

“no mom, it was a work trip”, you say, letting out a sigh. “still! you should keep an eye out”, she says. “after you broke up with that jaehyun, you’ve been sulking around. it’s time to find a guy and settle down”, she adds and just then the kettle lets out a whistle, signaling that the hot water is ready. you take a mug from the shelf and pour the boiling hot water into in, watching as the steam curls at the top before you drop in a tea bag, watching the tea leaves slowly seep into the water, turning it into green tea.

“for the millionth time, he broke up with me mom, and i just need some space right now, i’m not in the mood for a relationship, nor do i have the time”, you tell as you take the mug of tea and walk over to the couch, plopping down on it and putting the mug on the table beside you.

“nonsense, if you start dating again you’ll feel better. do you want me to find someone for you? i found this guy, i’ll send you his picture, i can set you up with him on a blind date and—”, you cut her off.

“mom, i’m serious about the no dating thing right now”, you say and she clicks her tongue in disapproval. “i’ll still send you his picture if you change your mind”, she says as you take a sip of the hot tea.

fast forward two weeks later, you’re at the bar of a restaurant, downing your fourth drink of the night. the music playing is loud and the lights are dim. you put the empty glass down on the marble counter with a soft clink and shake your head a little to get your mind straight. you can already feel the effects of the alcohol in your system, your head feeling light—you were definitely tipsy. you glance over your shoulder and see your coworkers all talking to each other, laughing about something, all nursing drinks of their own and you turn your head again, looking down at the empty glass in front of you before asking for another drink. this was a company treat for finishing a project with a high value client. that’s why you’d been out of town for those last two weeks, securing the deal and finishing the project. it had all been riding on you and you’d done it. though if you were being honest, you really didn’t want to be here right now. you’d rather have been at home, lying in your bed, under the blankets and watching some nonsense on television. but who were you to say no to free food and drinks since the company was paying for it—so here you were.

your phone pings with a message from your mom and you open it to see another picture of a guy she’d found you, saying he came from a good background and that you’d be a good match. she really was not taking no for an answer. you sigh and put your phone down with a light thud and groan, burying your hands in your face. 

“are you okay?”, you hear someone ask and you peek through your hands to see whoever it was, only to recognise the face—kwon soonyoung. you look at him and a hint of recognition seems to flit over his features as well as he looks at you.

“soonyoung? hey”, you say, sitting a little straighter. “yn hey”, he says, his tone casual.

somehow, hearing your name from soonyoung’s mouth feels oddly sweet. “are you okay? it looks like you were having a bit of an existential crisis”, he says, making you sigh even more. you look at him and his silver blonde hair seems to catch the light he’s sitting under and it highlighst his features. his jawline is sharp and his eyes are just as sharp. he’s wearing jeans, a shirt and a ring adorns his pinky finger. you notice the helix piercing in his ear, which you never noticed before and you glance away for a second before looking back at him.

“yeah, that’s exactly what is happening right now”, you say as soonyoung takes a seat beside you.

“what are you doing here by the way, is jihyo here too?”, you ask and he shakes his head. 

“nope, i’m here alone”, he informs and you nod. “you?”, he asks, curious in his tone.

“work dinner”, you say, gesturing to the table over to the side where all your colleagues sat, talking and drinking and his eyes follow your gaze before returning back to yours.

you glance over at soonyoung, realising you don’t actually know much about him. all you knew is that he graduated last year because jihyo told you about it, but besides that, nothing much.

“so, what have you been up to?”, you ask, curiosity getting the better of you and soonyoung seems to sit up straighter at your question.

“i’m actually working! i’m the manager and one of the instructors at a dance studio downtown”, he says and you widen your eyes in surprise. 

“wow, that’s very cool”, you say. you remember jihyo mentioning something about soonyoung liking dance, and having even majored in a dance related program in college. “i think it’s been almost three years since i saw you, so you’ve changed quite a lot, grown up i can say”, you tell and he gives you an almost shy smile.

“yeah, my mom always mentions you, asking jihyo to invite you over to dinner”, soonyoung fills in and you smile, remembering how warm and welcoming jihyo’s mom and entire family has always been with you. you really should drop by sometime.

“what have you been doing?”, he asks a moment later.

“nothing much, same old corporate job that i say i’ll quit everyday but don’t because i need the money”, you tell, feeling deadbeat. 

the drink you had ordered finally arrives and you take a big sip, emptying it almost immediately. soonyoung looks a little alarmed at that but he doesn’t say anything. you feel the rush and buzz in your head, feeling tipsy and slightly intoxicated before you decide to speak again, which was a bad decision because you were always a yapper when you got tipsy. so right now, soonyoung was going to face the wrath of whatever nonsense you were going to tell him, poor thing.

“this sounds really stupid, but my mom keeps trying to set me up on blind dates and i keep telling her i don’t want to date right now and she can’t seem to take no for an answer”, you tell in one breath.

“that’s exactly like my mom, she keeps trying to set me up too”, he says, a small lopsided pout forming on his face as he speaks.

“damn, i think all moms are just universally coded like that”, you joke and he lets out a small laugh.

there’s a moment of silence between you both after that and you gulp down the rest of whatever drink is remaining in your glass.

“the thing is, i’ve never dated before so she thinks something is wrong with me”, soonyoung fills in. 

“wait, what? really?”, you ask, a little surprised because looking at soonyoung now, he was pretty good looking and pretty handsome, so hearing him say he’s never dated before takes you by surprise. 

he nods. “yeah, i just…haven’t found the one you know”, he says, like it wasn’t a big deal.

“my mom thinks i’ve dated too much and something is wrong with me”, you tell, letting out a small laugh at your situation. “she wants me to settle down and stuff but i’m not ready for that, at least not now”, you add. “it’s kind of ironic considering i have four exes, so you’d think i’d have found the one by now, but nope”, you say defeated. 

“it’d be funny if we fake date just to get them off our backs”, you blurt out a second later without thinking, the words already out before you can take it back and you watch as soonyoung blinks at you, the words slowly sinking into him.

“that’s actually a genius idea”, he says, a hint of enthusiasm in his tone. “wait, really?”, you ask, not expecting that answer from him. “i could use a break from my mom trying to set me up on blind dates, i wouldn’t mind”, he says.

“okay, done deal”, you say almost immediately. why? because you were stupid and tipsy and not thinking straight. just then one of your coworkers comes over, saying you were wanted back at the table and she grabs your arm, taking you over there.

“i’ll text you”, you mouth to soonyoung who watches you leave. but who were you kidding, you weren’t going to text soonyoung because you didn’t have his number. 

a week later you seem to have completely forgotten about the deal you had made with soonyoung when your head was in the clouds. sure, you remember meeting him and talking to him, but the bit about fake dating seemed to have been erased from your memory. so when you go to see jihyo later that evening, you're surprised to see soonyoung there too. you all sit down at a cafe nearby, jihyo saying that soonyoung was in the area so she called him over too since he had the car.

the conversations are normal, nothing ordinary, just you filling in jihyo on your work drama and life while she does the same, while soonyoung leans back in his chair, listening intently. you didn’t think soonyoung had a thing for gossip, but the concentration on his face and the way his brows were furrowed said otherwise.

jihyo’s phone rings and she excuses herself, saying it was a work call and walks outside the cafe to speak, leaving you and soonyoung alone. soonyoung picks up his eyes and looks at you before speaking.

“are we still doing the fake dating thing?”, soonyoung asks softly and you almost choke on your tea upon hearing his words. he’s quick to hand you a tissue and lean forward and push the glass of water towards you.

“the what now?”, you ask and he gives you that lopsided pout again. why did that look so cute on him.

“fake dating? you know, the one we talked about last week at the bar?”, he fills in and you wrack your brain trying to think when you both even talked about this before the memory seems to slowly make its way back into your mind. 

“oh”, you say once you seem to recall everything and you glance outside, seeing jihyo still talking on the phone. 

“you were serious about it?”, you question, which only seems to make him more confused.

“were you not serious about it?”, he asks, blinking at you. you open your mouth to speak but close it, unsure what to say. 

“but won’t it be awkward since i’m jihyo’s friend?”, you ask and he only shrugs, like that didn’t seem to matter to him.

“nah, i’m sure she’d be chill with it, we could let her know too, it could just be a something between the three of us”, he explains and you nod because he did have a point. 

“i’ll think about it okay, give me a day?”, you ask and he nods. “sure, you can text me”, he adds and you internally wince. “i actually don’t have your number so”, you say softly, unlocking your phone and handing it over to him. he dials in his number and hands it back to you.

jihyo’s walks back in, taking a seat, looking between you and soonyoung, giving you both a look. “what happened here?”, she asks and you both seem to shake your heads at the same time.

“nothing, i was just asking soonyoung what he’s been up to”, you say instead and she seems to smile, sitting back down. “he’s been up to a lot, haven’t you soonie”, jihyo says, nudging him with her elbow and soonyoung gives her a look at the mention of his nickname.

you don’t text soonyoung after a day, nor the day after and it’s been a week now. you’ve sat and thought about it, overanalyzed it, overthought it and made up every possible worst case scenario that could happen if you fake date your best friend's brother and the light at the end of the tunnel does not seem bright with that idea. so, you decide to tell him no, that you don’t want to fake date, that it was a stupid idea and would never work in the first place. but when your mom calls you up again, trying to set you up on yet another blind date, you’ve hit your limit. you open your phone, click on soonyoung’s contact and text him.

you [7:37 PM]: hey, it’s yn! i’ve decided that yes, we can go ahead with the fake dating plan.

when soonyoung gets your text, he nearly drops his phone. after you failed to text him, twice, he was bummed, thinking that you didn’t want to talk with him, and that you just said that you’d text him just to be nice since you were jihyo’s friend. but now as he sees your text on the screen, he doesn’t know how to respond. 

“close your mouth man, a fly is going to go in there”, seungkwan says, snapping soonyoung back to reality.

soonyoung whips his head up and clears his throat, setting his phone down on the table. he glances at seungkwan, his roommate and friend, and that one look from soonyoung is all it takes for seungkwan to understand that soonyoung was up to no good.

seungkwan visibly sighs before he speaks. “what did you do now?”, he asks, massaging his temples.

“first of all, i didn’t even do anything”, soonyoung counters. “right, now spill”, seungkwan says and soonyoung takes a second before he speaks again.

“what do you know about fake dating?”, soonyoung asks, almost too innocently, making seungkwan’s eyes widen. “fake dating? what ghost has possessed you”, he asks, making soonyoung roll his eyes.

“just tell me if you know anything about it or not”, soonyoung says, crossing his arms over his chest in defense, frowning slightly. “i don’t know man, i guess it’s just like normal dating expect it's fake. you’re pretending and putting on an act and of course the most important thing is that you don’t catch feelings”, seungkwan says.

“is it hard?”, soonyoung asks, genuinely curious and seungkwan only blinks at his roommate. “i don’t know? i’ve never fake dated”, seungkwan says, exasperated all of a sudden. “why do you want to know all this anyway?”, he asks. soonyoung only blinks back at seungkwan and shrugs his shoulders. “just curious”, he says, trying to act casual but seungkwan can see right through it.

“did something happen at the dance studio? is this why you’re asking about this?”, seungkwan asks and soonyoung shakes his head.

“no! nothing like that, i was just asking jeez”, soonyoung says, pushing his chair back and getting up, grabbing his phone from the table as he trudges back into his room. seungkwan doesn’t ask anything more as he watches soonyoung go. soonyoung sighs softly, falling on his bed and staring up at the ceiling, thinking about how to respond to you. he feels like a fool now. he’s the one that brought it up, suggesting the fake dating plan when you’d clearly just been joking about it. but now that you said yes, he had no idea what to do. a moment later he reaches for his phone, opens your contact and texts you back.

soonyoung [7:55 PM]: hey! okay let’s do it.

you [7:56 PM]: sounds good! let’s meet up tomorrow afternoon? i’ll text you when i’m free and we can go from there!

you’re sitting in a cafe downtown, waiting for soonyoung. you were nervous for some reason and it makes you laugh, because you’d never get this nervous about meeting someone. you deal with clients on a daily basis and they never made you feel like this. you take a deep breath and that’s when soonyoung walks in. you see him enter the cafe, his eyes scanning the area before they land on you. you give him a small wave and he makes his way towards you, pulling out a chair and sitting down. 

“hey”, you say. “hi, sorry if i’m late, the class ran a bit late”, he informs but you didn't mind.

“no worries, can i get you anything?”, you ask, standing up to order. “oh, no it’s fine”, he says but you wave your hand. “it’s fine soonyoung, my treat, what will you have?”, you ask and he says he’ll just have an iced americano.

his coffee and your hot tea arrives and you set it down on the table, taking a seat. soonyoung’s hair is styled differently today, exposing his forehead, with just a few loose strands falling over his forehead and he’s wearing jeans and a loose button up shirt.

“so,” you began, clearing your throat a little too loudly. “um, how’s your… coffee?”, you ask, wincing internally, realizing how dumb you sounded. but soonyoung only seemed to smile softly and nod. “it’s good,” he says, his almond shaped eyes sparkling with warmth. ”how’s your tea?”, he asks.

“it’s good too,” you say, taking a sip, swallowing it down and there was another beat of silence.

“so”, you start again, looking at soonyoung. “about the fake dating thing…i guess we should set some ground rules right?”, you say and he nods, like he understood what you meant, but he didn’t. he takes a sip of his coffee, gulping down 1/4th of the drink in all the nervousness before he looks back at you.

“i don’t really know how fake dating works”, he finally says. “i mean i’ve never dated before, so i don’t know how this entire thing works really”, he admits, looking sheepish.

“that’s fine soonyoung, i’ll teach you. i have plenty of experience, so i can definitely show you the ropes and stuff about dating, it isn’t that big of a deal”, you add on and relief seems to wash over his features. “okay”, he says, “so what do we do?”.

“first the ground rules: make a convincing story, set some boundaries and an end date”, you say and he nods along, waiting for you to continue.

“so, for the story, if anyone asks how we met, we gotta have the same story so it’s convincing”, you explain. “so we could just say we met through jihyo, right?”, he suggests and you nod. “yeah, sure, that could work”, you say. “we’re going to tell jihyo about this right, otherwise it’s going to be really awkward”, you add and he nods again.

“okay then, now for the boundaries. we can decide what is okay and not, PDA wise and stuff”, you say and soonyoung only seems to blink at you, a little clueless.

“PDA?”, he asks. “public display of affection? you know, like holding hands and stuff”, you tell.

“right, yes”, he says. “so, are you okay with that? i mean holding hands and stuff if we need to? that’s all we’ll basically do, drawing the line there, no kissing or anything else, just holding hands”, you say.

“okay, only holding hands, that’s easy”, he says, like he’d done it a thousand times before. 

“and the end date, how long do you think we should do this for?”, you ask and he leans back in his chair, thinking, that small frown forming on his face again as he’s thinking.

“how long do people usually do this for?”, he asks, like you’re some sort of expert in fake dating. “uh— maybe three months to begin with? we can decide what to do after that”, you tell, unsure how long to set this for either. “so basically if we both need plus ones to an event, we can call each other or if your mom bothers you again, just say you’re dating me”, you tell.

another sense of relief seems to wash over soonyoung at your words and he lets out a  small goofy smile. “okay”.

“okay”, you say and silence seems to engulf you both again. “cool”, he repeats, getting nervous again. “cool”, you repeat again, an awkward tension now filling the air between the both of you. you take a sip of your tea, but the silence only seems to grow louder before you decide to speak again.

“i should head back to work, but just text me if you need anything”, you say, gathering your bag and standing up. soonyoung stands up too and says a small ‘see you’ before watching you walk out the cafe door. 

that night as you lay in bed, you just can’t bring yourself to call jihyo and tell her this rather ridiculous plan about fake dating her younger brother. you were somehow convinced that and sure that she’d disown you, block you and ask you what the hell was wrong with you. so after contemplating about it for nearly an hour, your finger that was hovering over her contact finally taps the call button and the phone rings. you throw your phone on the side, burying your face into the pillow, regretting every life decision you’ve ever made when she picks up, her voice filling the room since it was on speakerphone.

“yn hi babe”, she says, sounding upbeat. “hi babe”, you say and pause, trying to gather your thoughts and think of how to drop this bomb of information on her.

“i need to tell you something”, you start off. “but promise me that you won’t kill me”, you say and jihyo laughs. “what yn, you know i would never do that, what’s wrong?”, she asks but you hesitate. “you did say that the one time i texted my ex”, you say and she scoffs. “okay that was for a valid reason though, we don’t support texting exes over here”, she says and you roll your eyes.

“okay back to the topic”, you say as you gather the courage to spill the beans to her. “you know how my mom keeps trying to set me up on blind dates right?”, you ask.

“yeah, oh my god, is she still doing that?”, jihyo asks and you groan out a yes.

“so what about it?”, she asks, trying to get back to whatever you were trying to tell her. “i might have made a really stupid decision”, you say, biting your lip.

“what did you do?”, she asks. “i may have decided to fake date this guy to get her off my back”, you say and you hear jihyo exclaim on the other side. 

“OHMYGOD WHO”, she asks, almost yelling at you and you wince, clearing your throat before breaking the news to her.

“your brother, soonyoung”, you say softly, hoping she didn’t hear it but she does. 

“wait WHAT”, she asks and you can hear the confusion in her voice. “what do you mean you’re going to fake date soonyoung? my brother?”, she asks again, like she was trying to make sure she didn’t hear you wrong.

“yes, soonyoung, your younger brother”, you repeat and the line is silent for a few seconds.

“are you insane? what is wrong with you”, she says. “i’m not insane! it’s a perfectly good solution for two people to fake date to get their pestering mother’s off their backs!”, you tell, trying to sound convincing but it seems to lack conviction even to you.

“i met soonyoung at the bar two weeks ago and we talked a bit. he told me about how your mom kept trying to set him up on blind dates and stuff, so i jokingly suggested we fake date since my mom was doing the same thing, and well, here we are”, you explain.

“but soonyoung out of all people? he’s clueless yn, he’s a walking disaster when it comes to dating, no wonder he’s still single”, jihyo says and suddenly you feel bad for him.

“hey! don’t say that, i’m sure he’ll make a great boyfriend”, you say, recalling how cool he looked when you saw him earlier. he just needed a little push, somewhere to start. “he’s cute”, you say and jihyo scoffs softly. “well, don’t say i didn’t warn you about what you’re getting into”, she says. “yes ma’am”, you say and she laughs.

“also this is top secret, you can’t let anyone know we’re fake dating. i’m only telling you because you're my best friend and his sister, so i don’t want things getting awkward between us”, you say and jihyo hums at your words.

when soonyoung gets home that night there’s a shift in energy in him, he’s nervous, but also excited for some reason. seungkwan is quick to notice and soonyoung decides to be the first to break the news to him—that he has a girlfriend now, but he was going to leave the fake part out of it.

“i—um— seem to have gotten myself a girlfriend”, soonyoung says once he’s closer and seungkwan spits out the water in his mouth, the water sputtering out and landing right on soonyoung shirt.

“seungkwan what the hell?”, soonyoung shouts looking down at his clothes, as seungkwan wipes his mouth with his hand.

“what? you got yourself a girlfriend? the mr. i won’t date till i find the right one has finally found himself a girlfriend?”, he asks, shocked.

“yeah, why is that so hard to believe?”, soonyoung asks with a frown and seungkwan nods. “yeah that’s really hard to believe, but who’s the girl?”, he asks and soonyoung shrugs lightly.

“just someone, you don’t know them”, soonyoung says, trying to avoid the topic but he melts under seungkwan’s gaze and gives in, “she’s my sister’s best friend”, soonyoung finally admits and seungkwan’s sharp inhale of air can he heard.

“i didn’t know you had a thing for your sister’s best friend dude, holy shit”, seungkwan says, but soonyoung only rubs the back of his neck, trying to ease his nerves and play it cool.

“yeah, haha, i mean my sister is cool with it so”, soonyoung says, hoping he sounded convincing enough.

“so you think she’s the one then?”, seungkwan asks. “you’re always telling me that you didn’t want to date just for the sake of dating, but wanted to only date when you found the right person”, he asks and soonyoung feels his ears turn red at seungkwan’s words. fuck, he was going to have to lie again to keep this up or else he was screwed. 

“yeah, she’s the one”, soonyoung says quickly before turning around and making a beeline to his room, nearly slamming the door shut. shit, this was going to be harder than he thought.

“what do people do on dates?”, soonyoung asks the next morning, the question sounding so innocent that seungkwan wants to strangle him. 

“people just do couple things, they talk about stuff, support each other, do things together, hold hands, kiss”, seungkwan says, listing out stuff.

“do i have to be like cool?”, he asks. “no man, you don’t have to be cool, just be you”, seungkwan replies. 

“do you know what she likes?”, seungkwan asks and soonyoung only blinks back at him. “then go ask her, find out what she likes, dislikes, get to know her. i thought you’d know all this by now”, seungkwan says in an almost scolding tone.

“of course i know what she likes!”, soonyoung replies before he says something about having two classes scheduled today so he’ll be home only in the evening and he walks out the door, thinking he’s such an idiot, that he was doomed—because he really didn’t know much about you. he had half a mind to call jihyo and ask, she’d know plenty of things about you. he was even sure jihyo would know your astrological chart by heart if he asked but he didn’t. 

work is busy today and you had two client meetings, plus you had to manage three projects simultaneously so you were running around pretty much the entire day today. you barely have the time to eat lunch or dinner, just nibbling on some snack bars through the afternoon and by the time you clock out, it’s late, later than usual. you walk to the bus stop, hoping you haven’t missed the last bus and sit down and wait, hoping it’ll still come otherwise you are going to have to take a cab.

on the other side of the road, soonyoung walks, evidently a little tired but still energised, a slight little bounce in his step. it isn’t until soonyoung turns around to cross the road that he spots you sitting at the bus stop across the road. it’s an odd thing really, how you’d always taken a bus at that bus stop, and how soonyoung always walked down that path everyday for the last two years, but today is the only time he sees you there, notices you.

he straightens up and blinks, looking at you to make sure it was indeed you and crosses the road when the light turns green. you haven’t seen him yet, busy typing away on your phone. he stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets and walks towards you, his shoes crunching on the leaves fallen on the roadside.

“yn hey”, he says and you snap your head up at the mention of your name, your gaze softening when it lands on soonyoung. 

“oh, hey”, you say, surprised to see him here. “heading home?”, he asks and you nod. “yeah, you too?”, you ask and he nods.

“do you always work this late?”, he asks, taking a seat next to you. “no, usually i leave earlier, but today was a busy day, i had things to take care off”, you say and he nods.

the bus finally comes and you get up. you turn around, giving soonyoung a small wave before you climb onto the bus and find a window seat. soonyoung watches as the bus leaves before he turns on his heel and continues walking in the other direction, kicking a stone as he takes a step, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. soonyoung reaches home and unlocks the door to the apartment, stepping inside and spots seungkwan on the couch.

“someone is late”, he says but soonyoung shrugs. 

“i was with my girlfriend, i saw her at the bus stop so i stopped to talk”, soonyoung tells proudly. “did you drop her home too?”, seungkwan asks and soonyoung furrows his brows in confusion.

“drop her home? was i supposed to?”, soonyoung asks and seungkwan runs a hand across his face, clearly done with his clueless friends behaviour.

“dude, it’s so late and you let her take the bus alone and didn’t even offer to drop her home? are you stupid? that’s the basic thing to do when you’re in a relationship”, seungkwan explains, shaking his head in disapproval. 

“i think instead of dance classes, you need to start taking some romance classes”, seungkwan adds. “wait, is that actually a thing? do you think i should sign up for that?”, soonyoung asks, oblivious, which only makes seungkwan groan even louder.

“oh my god, you, my friend, are hopeless, i can’t believe this”, seungkwan exclaims. 

if soonyoung was going to get this fake dating thing right, he had a lot to learn. 

“did you look at the picture i sent, he’s a decent guy yn, give him a chance”, your mom says as you wait for the leftover takeaway food to heat up in the microwave. you take a breath, because you had to break the news, and you weren’t sure how she was going to react to it.

“mom, i found a guy and we’re in a relationship”, you say and you mom goes silent for a moment before her voice crackles through the phone again. “who?”, she asks, her tone a little scary. well, here goes nothing.

“soonyoung”, you say. “who?” your mom asks again and the microwave beeps, your hand reaching out to open it.

“soonyoung, you know, jihyo’s younger brother”, you say, hoping she wasn’t going to freak out about this.

“how long has this been going for”, you mom asks, her tone taking a sort of serious edge. “last week”, you say, biting your lip as you take the plate and walk over to the small table. 

“why?”, she asks and you furrow your brows. “what do you mean why, mom, i like him”, you say, trying to sound convincing. 

“what does he do?”, she asks. “he works at a dance studio”, you say. “does jihyo’s mom know about this?”, she questions and your silence is all she needs to get an answer. 

“of course mom”, you say a beat too late, hoping you didn’t screw things up already, but soonyoung’s family were bound to find out about this some way or another. you just didn’t know how quick the news was going to spread like wildfire. your mom had immediately called up soonyoung’s mom, who then asked jihyo if this was true before calling up her son for more answers. 

when soonyoung’s phone rings, his mom’s caller ID on display, he smiles and picks up the phone, but he doesn’t expect his mom to ask him bluntly, “you’re dating your sister’s best friend?”. soonyoung nearly trips on the steps but catches his balance before it’s too late and stops in his tracks.

“what—how did you find out?”, he asks. “you think i’m not keeping tabs on you boy? i have eyes everywhere”, his mom tells and soonyoung scratches his head.

“how long has this been going on for?”, she asks and soonyoung stutters out an answer, wracking his brain on what to say. “last two weeks”, he says and his mom clicks her tongue.

“yn’s mom said it’s been going on since last week”, she questions him and soonyoung nearly breaks into a cold sweat with the way his mom was interrogating him. “um-yeah-no last week-it’s been official since last week”, soonyoung sputters out, hoping he didn’t already bust his cover. “i see”, is all his mom says after that, the line going silent for a few seconds before she speaks again.

“take good care of her”, is all his mom says finally, before saying she had to get back to making some kimchi and hangs up the phone.soonyoung stands there stunned and a little nervous about how he’s going to tell you about this. he decides to text you when he gets home.

soonyoung [6:33 PM]: hey! hope all is well.

you [6:35 PM]: yeah, what’s up?

soonyoung[ 6:37 PM]: so my mom found out we’re dating…

you [6:38 PM]: omfg i’m sorry this is my mom’s doing i told her and she must’ve immediately called your mom 😭

soonyoung [6:39 PM]: oh…so we’re cool right?

you [6:39 PM]: yeah, don’t worry, they were bound to find out anyway.

soonyoung [6:40 PM]: okay 👍🏽

you call jihyo when you reach home. “i told my mom and she immediately told your mom like we committed a crime or something”, you tell. “yeah, my mom sort of chewed my head about it too, i’m glad soonyoung isn’t here or he'd put me in hell right now”, jihyo laughs.”i wouldn’t be surprised if half the neighbourhood knows about this by tomorrow”, you add and jihyo laughs even more.

“are you enjoying my sorrow right now?”, you ask. “well, you’re the genius who wanted to fake date my brother out of all people, so this is on you, don’t say i didn’t warn you”, jihyo says and you scoff. 

“whatever”, you tell. “but your family is chill with this right?”, you ask, unsure.

“yes, what do you mean? my mom is literally in love with you, she’s doting over you all the time, so i know she’s secretly happy about this, even though it’s fake”, jihyo says and you let out a small breath of relief. “okay good, because i was starting to think i would never be welcome in your house again”, you joke. 

“you know, soonyoung works really close to your office, he moved into that part of town too for work and stuff”, jihyo says and your ears perk up at this piece of information.

“oh yeah, no wonder i bumped into him at the bus stop yesterday”, you say, the information clicking in your brain. “if you get the time, you should drop by the dance studio, it’s actually pretty cool and he’s actually really good at teaching and dancing”, jihyo praises. 

“how come he’s never dated before?”, you ask, curious to know the reason. you remember him telling you something about not finding the one, but you were sure jihyo had more inside information on why exactly. 

“i don’t know, he’s always been sweet, but when it came to dating, he wasn’t really interested. he said he didn’t like anyone, and wanted to devote his time to dancing rather than dating. he’d always say he’d date someone when the time was right, when he really liked someone”, jihyo explains and you hum in response. “yeah, he’s silly like that. good luck dealing with him”, she says, making you chuckle.

“come on, he’s not that bad, he’s sweet”, you say.

“did you break up with your girlfriend or something? i haven't seen you talk to her or go meet her once this entire week”, seungkwan asks as soonyoung is eating dinner, who nearly chokes on the spoonful of soup.

“she’s just busy!”, soonyoung counters and seungkwan only narrows his eyes at soonyoung, not taking his word for it. “she’s busy”, soonyoung mutters again, averting his gaze, looking at the meal in front of him, but he can still feel seungkwan’s piercing gaze on him.

“something isn’t adding up”, seungkwan declares, crossing his arms over his chest and soonyoung tries not to panic, he couldn't blow his cover. “is she not taking you seriously because you’re her best friend’s brother?”, he asks and soonyoung blinks in relief.

“no dude, she really likes me, she’s just really busy at her super important corporate job”, soonyoung says and seungkwan raises a brow. “corporate job? what does she do?”, he asks and soonyoung freezes, because fuck, he had no idea what you did.

“um, she’s like super duper important and has a really high position”, soonyoung says and seungkwan furrows his brows more. “but what exactly does she do?”, he asks and soonyoung lets out a fake cough, standing up to go grab some water and he turns around, only to see seungkwan still waiting for an answer. 

“she deals with people you know, she’s a people person”, soonyoung says, sounding like a fool. “right, and i’m supposed to understand what that means”, seungkwan tells and soonyoung lets out a nervous laugh.

“i mean, even if i told you, you wouldn’t understand, it’s complicated”, soonyoung says, trying to act cool and just then seungkwan’s phone rings, prompting him to get up to fetch it and soonyoung thanks the gods because he was this close to revealing the truth.

“my mom wants you to come over for dinner”. jihyo says over the phone.

“oh…oh… is this bad? oh my god”, you say, panicking a little. it was funny how you’d always loved her family, her mom loving and welcoming you, but now that you were dating, well fake dating her son, suddenly the thought of going over for dinner felt daunting.

“yn chill out, you’re acting like my mom is going to kidnap you and chop you up into pieces! she’s chill with you guys dating trust me”, jihyo says, trying to soothe you. “i don’t know why you’re freaking out so much when the whole arrangement is fake anyway”, she adds.

“i just don’t want your mom to think i broke her son’s heart when we end the thing”, you say and jihyo hums. “i’m sure she’ll understand”, she says, trying to soothe you. “so you’ll drop by this weekend for dinner then?”, jihyo asks again and you bite your lip, contemplating a response before you say yes, because if you were going to fake date, you had to do it right.

on the day of the dinner with jihyo’s family, you’re a mess. your entire wardrobe is dumped out on your bed and you’ve tried on at least eight articles of clothes, discarding them all because they didn’t look good. you finally settle for something simple, a pair of high waisted jeans paired with a flowy baby blue top that was tucked in, and ankle length boots. it was simple and comfortable. you decide to drive to her place instead of taking the bus. you usually only took the bus to the office and back since it was cheaper than driving there everyday.

when you pull up at jihyo’s place, you have to sit in the car for a minute and breathe. why were you so nervous? you knew her parents and they were so sweet to you, but tonight the thought of sitting and having dinner with them felt nerve wracking. you open the door and step out, making your way to the door and ringing the doorbell. soonyoung opens the door and he lets out a small smile when he sees you, beckoning you to come inside. just then his mother comes into sight. she lights up when she sees you and immediately pulls you in for a hug. jihyo’s dad waves at you from the back as jihyo tackles you in a hug too and you give him a small wave.

“yn! look at you, it’s been so long since i saw you, you’re all grown up now”, she says and you laugh softly and smile. she ushers you inside and asks soonyoung to fetch you something to drink. so far the conversation seems to be going well, but if you only knew how awkward it was going to get when you all sat down for dinner. 

soonyoung sits next to you. “so, how did you guys end up dating?”, soonyoung’s mom asks and you glance at soonyoung before you clear your throat and answer. “it just sort of ended up happening”, you say, giving his mom a small smile in an attempt to distract her from your half baked answers.

“how long have you liked each other then? has this been going on for long?”, soonyong’s mom asks, looking between you and soonyoung, who is close to breaking into a sweat because he had no idea what to say, so he just blabbers something at the same time you open your mouth to speak.

“one month”, he says in a rush. “two weeks”, you say and you both look at each other and you tilt your head to the side, giving him a look and soonyoung scrambles to save face.

“i mean to say that i liked yn for a while, so it was one sided until two weeks ago”, he says and jihyo lets out a small snort at his answer. soonyoung looks at you with that lopsided pout on his face and rubs the back of his neck, nervous, his eyes asking if he did okay. you only laugh softly and lightly nudge him with your elbow. “he’s funny, but yeah that’s the story”, you tell, playing along. “then what made you say yes to dating him?”, his mom asks and you panic again. “um—he was cute and eventually grew on me”, you say, sounding ridiculous and jihyo stifles a laugh and you give her a look. jihyo’s mom doesn’t say anything more, and the conversation diverts to what you have been doing and catching up and you couldn’t be more grateful. when dinner is done, you’re helping clear the table. that’s when soonyoung notices you and rushes over, saying he’s got it and takes the plates from you. 

jihyo whisks you away to her room and you crash on her bed, the various memories of when you’d come over and the countless sleepovers you’d had during your college days come flooding back. “this room hasn’t changed a bit”, you say, sitting up and looking around. you both probably end up talking for a good 30 minutes when a realisation hits—the realisation that you were here for soonyoung and you’d been completely ignoring him. jihyo gets called downstairs and she says she’ll be back, leaving you alone. you sit on the bed, contemplating if you should head out too and find soonyoung when you notice a head peeking into jihyo’s room—soonyoung. when he sees that you’ve caught him, he straightens up and runs a hand through his hair, coming into view.

“soonyoung hey”, you say, realising you’d barely greeted him or talked to him this entire evening. “hi”, he says looking at you before speaking. “my mom was asking if you wanted some ice cream?”, he asks. “sure”, you say and soonyoung leads you downstairs. jihyo’s arguing about something with her mom and when her mom sees you, she ignores jihyo and hands soonyoung a tray with two bowls of ice cream.

“here, eat it in your room with yn”, his mom says and soonyoung blinks, glancing at you.

“i’m coming too!”, jihyo yells but her mom stops her. “stop it, leave soonyoung and yn be”, her mom says, ushering you both back up the stairs. jihyo mouths an ‘all the best’ to you and you give her a look. you both walk up the stairs and you’re standing in front of soonyoung’s room when he looks at you. “just…give me a minute, it’s a bit of a mess”, he says, stepping into the room quickly and you hear the shuffle of feet as he tries his best to tidy up the room quickly while you’re standing outside. he dumps whatever clothes were on his bed into the wardrobe and shuts it, straightening his bedsheet and fluffing up the pillows as much as he could. his eyes scan the room once more and once he deems it tidy enough he opens the door rather hurriedly, like he was scared that he’d made you wait for too long.

“you can come in now”, he says and you step inside. soonyoung’s room is so much like his personality. there are a bunch of old textbooks stacked up in a corner of his table. there’s a bluetooth speaker by the side and bunch of charging cables strewn next to it. there's a photo frame that has a small collage of pictures—soonyoung, jihyo and their parents and you smile softly at the sight of soonyoung grinning wide in the picture. your eyes glance down and there is a whole corner on the floor that is stacked with shoe boxes all stacked on top of each other, holding his sneaker collection. on the wall on the other side, there are a bunch of medals and certificates decorating his wall. you walk forward to take a closer look at them—they were all medals and certificates he’d won through participating in various dance competitions or events. you turn around and soonyoung’s holding out the bowl of ice cream for you and you take it. the ice cream’s already half melted but you don’t mind and soonyoung gestures for you to sit down on his bed. you take a seat on the edge of the bed while soonyoung pulls out the chair from the study table, taking a seat there. you eat a spoonful of the already melted ice cream and there’s an awkward silence that engulfs the both of you. 

“that’s quite an impressive collection of medals and certificates”, you say finally, earning a look from soonyoung, who bursts into an almost shy smile. “thanks”, he says. “how’s it working at the studio?”, you ask and soonyoung’s face seems to light up at your question.

“it’s really good! it’s really fun to see people from all different walks of life come together because of their passion for dancing. we get so many different people, ones who just dance as a hobby, some who are passionate about it and do it on the side, some who join to rediscover their passion for dancing and other beginners who just want to take a dance class for the fun of it. i think dance is a wonderful thing and me being able to teach and do what i love for a living is so worth it to me”, he explains and you smile at the way he explains it with so much enthusiasm, with so much passion.

“that’s wonderful to hear”, you say and he smiles more. “you should drop by sometime”, he asks. “i’d love too”, you say.

“sorry my room’s kind of a mess”, he says, looking around and getting a little self conscious about it. “it’s fine, it’s not bad…it’s just you”, you say. “you think so?”, he asks and you nod again, earning another shy look from him.

and just then jihyo bursts into the room, opening the door and startling you both. “guys, stop making out, mom wants to know if you want more ice cream”, she says rather loudly and you get up, smacking her arm.

“shut up jihyo, oh my god”, you grumble out, getting embarrassed while she only laughs at your misery. “i hate you so much”, you repeat and you glance over at soonyoung who looks like he’s just seen a ghost, his face turing pale.

“jihyo why would you say that!”, soonyoung says standing up and crossing his arms across his chest in an attempt to look tough, but his sulking tone shines through. “you guys need to have a little fun, come on!”, jihyo says laughing.

“also babe, it’s getting late so i thought i’d come ask you if you wanted to stay back or head home”, she says, looking at you. you glance at the time on your watch, realising that it was indeed late and you should probably leave to reach home since you also had work tomorrow.

“i’ll leave, i have my car anyway so don’t worry”, you assure and you nod. you walk down with jihyo, soonyoung following behind you with the ice cream bowls in hand and he drops them off at the sink when you’re putting on your shoes by the door.

“aren’t you going to walk her out?”, soonyoung’s mom says from the kitchen and you hear her. you can see the mental picture of his mom shooing him towards the door to walk you to the car. soonyoung comes up into sight again and jihyo pushes him forward, telling him to drop you to the car. 

“you don’t have to walk me, i’m fine”, you say but jihyo isn’t taking no for an answer. “come on yn, just let him”, she insists and that’s how you find soonyoung walking you towards your car, which was parked a little down from jihyo’s house. you glance at soonyoung, who’s walking with his hands stuffed into his pockets. the night breeze blows and catches in his hair, tousling it but he doesn’t seem to mind. his blonde silver hair seems to catch the moonlight and streetlight around, and under it, you notice how handsome it makes him look.

“sorry if this whole thing was weird for you”, you say after a moment, realising it must've not been easy for him to pretend, let alone know what to do since you recall him telling you that he's never dated before. “it wasn’t all that bad”, he says, looking at you and you stop walking, having reached your car.

“well, if anything comes up, i’ll text you”, you say and he nods. you get in your car, bid soonyoung goodbye and start your car, driving back home.

after the family dinner with you, soonyoung is determined to up his game and be a better fake boyfriend for you. so his search history looks a little like this:

how to be a good boyfriend

what does a boyfriend do

what do people do on dates

top ten date ideas

how to impress your girlfriend

how to hold your fake girlfriend’s hand

top ten pick up lines 

soonyoung spends the entire night staying up and searching all of this, reading through various blogs, articles and people’s comments to determine which approach was the best and what really worked. he had no idea dating included so many things, let alone having it pretend on top of all of that. but he was going to tackle it, because he wanted to impress you and be a good fake boyfriend for you. it’s only two weeks later when soonyoung bumps into you again.

you’re at a cafe, your favorite one and since it's friday, you decide to drop by and grab a quick bite there, you had always loved the food here. soonyoung is walking down the road when he happens to look into the cafe and that’s when he spots you sitting inside. he stops in his tracks and looks at you, squinting his eyes and making sure that it was indeed really you before his legs seem to have a mind of their own and take him inside the cafe. he pushes the door open, stepping inside, and the aroma of coffee and baked goods welcome him. he looks at you from the corner, watching you type away something on your laptop that’s open on the table, a mug of hot green tea on the table. he hesitates for a moment, not sure if he should come and say hi or leave. but then you look up and your eyes land on him. he looks away immediately before looking back in your direction and makes his way towards you.

“hey”, he says once he’s close enough. “soonyoung hi”, you say, looking at him. just then the waiter comes by and drops off your sandwich and soonyoung stands awkwardly by the side. 

“i’ll head out”, he says softly, like he was unsure if he was welcome to stay but you look at him. “you’re leaving already?”, you ask, to which he only blinks at you. you gesture for him to sit down and he takes a seat opposite you. “do you want anything, i’ll get it for you”, you ask and he shakes his head in refusal.

“oh no, i’m good”, he says. “coffee? tea? anything at all? it’s really no big deal”, you say but he says he’s fine again. you offer him the other half of your sandwich too, but in the end he only ends up munching on a few of the chips that were on the side. 

“you’re cute when you’re shy”, you say after a moment and he lets out a shy smile.

“what do you do?”, he asks after a moment, leaving you confused for a second before it clicks that he’s asking you what you do for a living. “oh, i’m currently working as a project manager for an advertising agency”, you say and he nods, like he’s impressed. “that must be really hard”, he asks. “yeah, it can get pretty hectic”, you say before silence settles between the both of you again and you take a bite of your sandwich. 

“so you teach everyday then? or does it work on shifts?”, you ask and again his eyes seem to light up at the mention of dance or you taking an interest in what he does. 

“yeah mostly it’s five days a week but the timings can vary. it mostly depends on the crowd, and what i’m going to be teaching, but sometimes i get days off in between since we have other dance teachers on rotation”, he explains. 

“that’s sounds really nice, god i wish i could get a day off in the middle of the week like that”, you say, already thinking of the workload that was waiting for you back home.

“you majored in dance right?”, you ask a second later and he nods. “yeah, a performance and choreography major”, he says and you nod your head, impressed. you finish eating the rest of your sandwich and you both walk out, hoshi offering to walk you to the bus stop. 

when the new week rolls in and it’s monday, soonyoung finds himself thinking about you. he finds himself waiting for you near the bus stop, hoping he’d spot you so he  walks by the cafe again. it’s silly really, how badly he wants to bump into you, to have an excuse to talk to you again. he could just text you, but it doesn’t feel the same. and on wednesday, he does manage to spot you, but this time he quite literally bumps into you. you both are turning around the corner and you’re in a rush when you bump right into him, your phone falling out of your hand and clattering to the floor.

“oh shit, i’m so sorry”, you say, a little frazzled, bending down to pick up your phone but he’s already got it. it’s only when he stands back up that you realise it’s soonyoung.

“soonyoung oh, hi”, you say and he seems to look relieved almost to see you, like he’d been waiting for this moment, his eyes lighting up when he realises it’s really you in front of him. “yn”, he says, saying your name so sweetly, like he’d been waiting for you for far too long as he blinks at you. he hands you your phone but not before glancing at it, making sure it wasn’t cracked or anything.

“sorry, i wasn’t looking where i was going”, you tell, apologizing. “heading somewhere?”, he asks, noticing how rushed you looked. “yeah, i have to meet a client so i’ll get going, see you around”, you say, giving him a tiny wave before walking ahead, leaving soonyoung behind. you hadn’t given him time to reply or say bye back to you and he just watches you walk away, whatever words he wanted to say dying on his lips. soonyoung stuffs his hands in his pockets and makes his way to the dance studio, a little bummed about not evening getting so say anything else to you besides the hi. he pushes the door open to the dance studio, waving at the receptionist and walking inside towards the staff rooms. he grabs his dance outfit from the locker and changes into it before walking into one of the dance practice rooms.

soonyoung turns on some music and does some light stretches, warming up his body for the dance session that was going to take place. soon, the room starts filling up with students and he greets them all one by one as they enter. soonyoung’s passion for dancing was immense, it was something like breathing to him, it came naturally. soonyoung was also great teacher, he was firm when needed but also patient and he was good at helping the students understand the movements easily, how to move their bodies and he always advocated about how taking care of yourself, a balanced diet and stretching was always required and a must. he’d often take a few extra minutes after class to help students who were particularly struggling or wanted extra help. the best part was the group dance showcases every week, showcasing everyone’s progress and dances, and he always found that exciting—to see his student’s progress and improvements always made him swell with pride. today’s dance session goes well and soonyoung is satisfied. it’s only when the class ends that three girls come up to soonyoung.

“do you have plans for dinner? you could join us”, one of the girls says. “yes! you always say no, you have to come tonight”, the other girl says, laughing softly, trying to convince him as they flirted with him.

“sorry, i have to get going”, he says, trying to sound nice as he smiles a little even though they try to convince him more and ask him out, but he declines and turns on his heel, making his way out the door, hoping he could catch you at the bus stop. but when he walks to the bus stop, soonyoung doesn’t spot you there, and he glances at the time, coming to the conclusion that he was a little late and had missed seeing you. 

soonyoung doesn’t bump into you again until friday. he’s walking by, minding his own business, making his way to the bakery downtown. this place was known for their freshly baked goods, the ovens churning out fresh bread and other delectable goods almost every four hours, so he knew he’d always get his hands on something freshly made. this place was particularly famous for their salt bread and doughnuts. seungkwan had asked soonyoung to get some salt bread on the way back home to stock up for the week so that’s where soonyoung was heading. soonyoung can smell the aroma of the freshly baked bread down the road. when soonyoung walks in, there’s a crowd no doubt. his eyes flicker around, looking at what was on display and that’s when he spots you. you’re standing in line, waiting to order and soonyoung slowly but carefully makes his way towards you. when’s he’s close enough, he ends up nudging you slightly because of the crowd and you turn around, ready to give a piece of your mind to whoever bumped into you, when your gaze softens at the sight of soonyoung. he gives you a small smile when he sees you, his eyes forming little crescent moons as the smile reaches his eyes.

“yn hi!”, he says, like he’s so happy to see you and you smile back.

“hey hi again”, you say, realising you’d started to bump into him quite often. 

“this place has the best salt bread, i’ve come to stock up on that”, he says and your face lights up. “they really do! and the doughnuts too, i need to indulge in some so i came to get some as an end of the week treat”, you explain.

it’s your turn to order and you go up to the counter, placing your order. “please give me two salted caramel doughnuts, two chocolate glazed ones and”, you stop, glancing at soonyoung.

“what are you getting?”, you ask. “oh, just some salt bread, two loaves”, he says.

“and two loaves of salt bread”, you say to the cashier who rings up your bill. you’re about to hand your card to the cashier when soonyoung stops you, saying he’ll pay, but you’re not having it. “soonyoung it’s really fine, consider it my treat”, you say, giving him an easy smile and handing over your card, but soonyoung thrusts his hand forward as well and the cashier stands blinking between the both of you.

“so who’s paying”, the guy asks, looking at the both of you. “mine, take mine joshua”, you say. having been a regular at the bakery, you’d gotten to know joshua who works there, so he listens and he takes your card. soonyoung stutters out a “no let me pay”, but it’s too late and joshua taps your card. you receive the goods from the counter two minutes later and soonyoung carries his bag with the two loaves of salt bread and the two chocolate doughnuts you bought for him and sneaked inside his bag. (he didn’t know).

“you really didn’t have to pay for my stuff yn”, he mutters out as you both walk to the side of the store. you’re about to respond to him when you hear someone call out your name

“yn! oh my god hi”, you hear someone call out and you turn around, watching your co-worker, mina, walk towards you. your eyes widen in surprise and you glance at soonyoung, who seems oblivious to the panic in your eyes.

“oh hi! didn’t think i’d run into you here”, you say, trying to sound calm. your co-worker, mina, seems to notice you glancing over at soonyoung and looks at you, waiting for an explanation. 

“this is my friend,”, you say in a rush, panicking when you say it. soonyoung’s smile falters for a second, his eyebrows raised slightly, a flash of surprise in his expression, having gotten caught off guard by the ‘just a friend’ part. but he’s quick to mask his expression with a easy grin, but the way his lips were turned down, forming a little pout told a different story

“yep, just a friend,” soonyoung repeats, his tone light but with a hint of forced cheerfulness. he politely says hi to your friend and stands there while the two of you make conversation.

“great, i’ll catch up with you later yn, see you later”, mina says to soonyoung too before she waves and leaves.

soonyoung glances over at you.”just a friend? i thought we’re supposed to be pretending to be a couple”, he says, looking at you with that lopsided pout on his lips. 

“i’m sorry, i panicked”, you tell, feeling a little bad but in hindsight, you really don’t know why you said that. soonyoung doesn’t say anything else as you both walk out of the store. “i’ll see you around then”, you say, when you both are outside.

“let me walk you to the bus stop”, he offers. “oh, it’s fine, it’s just a five minute walk”, you say. “but i want to”, he says lightly, so you let him.

“what else do you like from that bakery?”, soonyoung asks, glancing over at you, in a small attempt to get to know you better. “hm, i do love their red velvet cake and their dark chocolate chunk cookies”, you say and soonyoung makes a mental note to get those for you next time. after five minutes, you’ve reached the bus stop and he watches you get onto the bus and waves as it leaves.

it’s only when soonyoung gets home that he realises you’d sneaked in the chocolate doughnuts with the salt bread. “why did you get doughnuts? but i’m not complaining they’re always so good”, seungkwan says when he opens the bag that soonyoung had left on the counter.

“doughnuts? what do you mean? i didn’t buy doughnuts”, soonyoung says and seungkwan opens a box to reveal two chocolate glazed donuts inside them. “oh”, he says softly. soonyoung thinks it’s a mistake, that the cashier accidentally packed your doughnuts with his bread, so he snatches the box from seungkwan, telling him not to eat it and places it back in the bag before rushing to his room to grab his phone.

soonyoung [9:10 PM]: hey! 

you [9:12 PM]: hi, all okay?

soonyoung [9:13 PM]: you left your chocolate doughnuts with me, it was in my bag.

you [9:13 PM]: oh! no they’re for you, enjoy!

soonyoung [9:14 PM]: oh

you [9:14 PM]: yes :)

soonyoung stares at his screen, trying to formulate a response but doesn't know what to say. so he just settles for saying a thank you and shouts out to seungkwan that he can have the doughnuts. “are the doughnuts good?”, soonyoung asks, when he walks out to see seungkwan stuffing his face with it.

“oh my god, it’s so good, i can’t believe i’ve never tried this one before! i’m glad you got it”, seungkwan says and soonyoung only seems to sigh in defeat before walking over to the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water.

“why are you sulking?”, seungkwan asks, being able to read soonyoung’s emotions. “i’m not sulking”, he says but who was he kidding, he was. “it’s stupid”, soonyoung says but seungkwan only looks at him, waiting for him to explain.

“it’s just that, when me and yn were at the bakery earlier, she introduced me as her friend”, soonyoung says softly and seungkwan sucks in a dramatic breath. “WHAT?”, he says, his voice muffled through the big bite of the doughnut he had taken.

“that’s foul”, seungkwan says after a moment, which only seems to make soonyoung pout more. “i’m sure she didn’t mean it in a bad way”, soonyoung says, which only seems to fuel seungkwan’s thoughts.

“are you crazy? she introduced you as her friend and not boyfriend? that's so foul, you know what, give me her number, let me talk to her”, seungkwan says, all riled up for no reason. “woah that’s not needed man”, soonyoung says, walking over and grabbing the other doughnut, taking a bite out of it. “hm these are actually really good”, soonyoung says as he walks back to his room, the doughnut in his hand.

it’s a week later and soonyoung has been busy with dance lessons at the studio, and you have new projects on hand at work. finally, he has a day off and decides that it’s the right time to buy you back some chocolate doughnuts. he walks to the bakery with a stride and on a mission. along with the two chocolate glazed doughnuts, he gets you four dark chocolate chunk cookies and a slice of red velvet cake, remembering you mentioning that you liked those too. he pays at the counter and walks out of the store, excited to give these to you, only to realise he doesn’t know where you work, or exactly where your office is located. 

he thinks that he should text you and ask, but then that’ll ruin the surprise. so he asks jihyo instead, who is a menace and it takes three pleases before jihyo laughs and says she’ll text him the location to your office. he nearly jumps when his phone pings with a text and he’s quick to put the location in maps. it shows that it’s a fifteen minute walk from the bakery, which wasn’t too bad, so he starts walking in the direction of your office, hoping you’d like the little surprise.

when soonyoung finally reaches your office, it’s a huge building and he looks up, counting eight floors, wondering which floor you work on. he walks inside before turning to the reception desk on the left side. 

“hi, i’m looking for yn, she works here”, he says and the receptionist looks at soonyoung. “and you are?”, the lady asks, looking soonyoung up and down.

“oh! i’m her…boyfriend”, he says with a small smile. “i just got her some stuff to eat”, he adds and the receptionist nods, scribbling down something in a book.

“it’s lunch break now so she’ll probably be at the cafeteria, 4th floor”, the lady says and soonyoung thanks the lady and walks towards the elevator. he hums to himself as he walks into the elevator and when it opens, he’s greeted by your co-worker whom he saw the other day—mina. soonyoung walks into the elevator and presses the button to the fourth floor.

“hi, you’re yn’s friend right?”, mina says after a moment, seeming to recognise soonyoung. “yeah, her boyfriend actually”, he corrects and your friend lets out a small gasp in surprise. and just then the elevator pings, signaling that it has reached the fourth floor and the door slides open. 

“i got her some things from the bakery”, he says, holding up the bag as he steps out of the elevator, mina following beside him. “that’s so sweet, oh my god”, she says.  "you're really spoiling her, huh?", she adds with a more teasing tone as you both step out. just then two more of yn’s colleagues appear around the corner, all of them stopping short when they notice soonyoung standing there, looking a little lost and a lot out of place.

"what’s going on here?" one of them asks, raising an eyebrow at the scene before them. the way soonyoung was standing, clearly unsure of where to go makes him even more endearing. soonyoung looks around at the people that seemed to have gathered around him. “yn’s boyfriend is here”, mina sings songs and the rest of the girls all exclaim. “no way”, one of them says and the whole group goes silent for a split second, before they erupt into small gasps. "oh my god really?!" one of them asks with a small grin. "yn has a boyfriend?"

soonyoung lets out a nervous laugh, his face turning a little pink at the sudden attention he was getting and he scratches the back of his neck and asks, “uh, do you know where i can find yn?”.

“she’s probably in the break room getting coffee, let me call her”, mina says and just then yn seems to step out and mina calls out her name. “yn! over here!”, mina calls out to you and you turn your head around when you hear your name, your eyes spotting your coworkers all gathered in the corner near the elevator, and that’s when your eyes land on soonyoung. your eyes widen in surprise and you make your way towards them. it’s only when you’re close enough does mina speak.

“yn you didn’t tell us you had a boyfriend?”, they all tease. “you’ve been hiding him? i thought you were just casually hanging out with him? you said he was just a friend when i bumped into you guys last week”, mina asks as she looks at you.

you panic and scramble for an answer. “oh, we just started dating three days ago”, you blurt out. “uh, we just, you know, kept it low, i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it”, you add, trying to salvage the situation.

"he’s literally perfect for you!", they chimed in, making your cheeks flush. you shoot a quick glance at soonyoung, who looks just a flustered, but seems to mask it better than you. “he’s so cute, much better than all your exes if you ask me”, one of them adds and you just give them a small laugh.

“oh my god, babe you have to bring him to my wedding as your plus one at the end of the month!”, mina says and all the other girls all chime in with a big yes and you know you really can’t pull yourself out of this situation now. “yeah, okay sure, i’ll get him along”, you say, giving mina a small smile. 

“we’ll give you two some alone time, there’s ten more minutes left for lunch break anyway”, mina says, giving you a mischievous look and you glare at her before all your co-workers walk to the break room and you grab soonyoung's arm, dragging him to the balcony on the other end of the room.

“soonyoung what are you doing here?”, you ask, confused, and a little frazzled at his sudden appearance at your workplace.

“i wanted to give you something back for paying for those breads last time, so i went to the bakery and got you all your favorite things from there”, he explains sweetly, holding out the bag. “i got you those dark chocolate chunk cookies, red velvet cake and those chocolate glazed doughnuts too”, he finishes, still waiting for you to take the bag from him. you reach your hand out and take the bag from him, opening it to take a peek inside, the smell of sugary goodness wafting in the air. “you didn’t have to”, you say, your tone softening at his gesture. 

“but i wanted to”, he tells and you smile at his warmth in his tone and the sweetness of his gesture. “that’s sweet of you”, you tell softly and he grins proudly. “no worries”, he says, looking at you, content. “i thought you’d enjoy it during a hectic work week”, he chimes in and you nod. “i definitely will, thank you”, you say and your eyes dart around, looking to see if anyone was around, which soonyoung picks up on.

“i’m sorry if i showed up unannounced, i didn’t think i’d bump into your co-workers”, he says, thinking he’d done something wrong. “no, you’re all fine soonyoung, it just took me by surprise”, you say. “cool, um, i guess i’ll see you around then?”, he says, sounding a little unsure as he says it. “yeah, see you around”, you say and he smiles. 

when soonyoung’s phone rings and he sees jihyo’s caller id, he has half a mind to ignore the call, but he doesn’t, knowing she’d just continue to call and pester him until he did pick up. 

“what?”, soonyoung asks, only to be met with a scolding. “that’s how you talk to your sister?”, jihyo asks and soonyoung sighs. “i’m busy”, he mumbles out in a whine.

“i have two tickets for this movie that was released last week, but i can’t go anymore, so i’m giving it to you”, jihyo says and for a second, soonyoung thinks that this is some kind of trap. “you’re joking”, he says. “i’m serious! take them, i really can’t go”, jihyo says.

“okay, but what will i do with the other one?”, he asks. “then take yn with you idiot, she’s been wanting to see that movie anyway”, jihyo says and soonyoung seems to stand up straighter at the mention of your name. 

“yn?”, he asks. “yes, yn, take her along”, jihyo says again like she’s already tired of talking to soonyoung. “i’ll send you the tickets, so go, i have to go now”, jihyo says and ends the call, hanging up before soonyoung can say anything more.

the thought of you seems to make soonyoung unintentionally smile and his phone pings with a text from jihyo with details about the movie and tickets. soonyoung opens the text and finds out that the movie was booked for saturday evening, which was in three days. soonyoung isn’t sure about it, isn’t sure if you would even want to watch the movie with him. so he sleeps on it, but the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he actually does want to go watch that movie with you. but the question is how he was going to ask you.

it’s already friday and soonyoung is starting to get restless. he can barely focus on anything, his thoughts racing in endless circles about one thing—you. his mind won’t stop replaying the thought of you and if he should ask you out to go to that movie with him, and it’s driving him crazy. the nervous energy bubbles up inside him until he can’t take it anymore, so in a desperate attempt to clear his head and figure out what the heck he was doing, he decides to hit the gym.

he pushes through the door, ready to work off some of his restless anxiety, but as soon as he steps inside, his eyes landed on a familiar face—lee chan, who was his school friend. chan smiles and waves at him when he spots soonyoung, but soonyoung only gives him a half-hearted wave of the hand. 

confused, chan trudges forward to soonyoung. “everything okay?”, he asks and soonyoung sighs dramatically, his shoulder slumping. “i don’t think you’d be much of a help with this man”, he says, looking like a lost puppy. but chan’s face is full of determination as he steps closer, crossing his arms. “what’s going on?”, he asks.

soonyoung’s eyes dart around as he tries to get the words out without sounding like an idiot, but it’s no use. “how do you ask a girl out to the movies?” he blurts out, his voice full of uncertainty that it was almost painful.

chan blinks at him for a second, not expecting soonyoung to ask him something like that. chan scratches the back of his head, looking just as clueless as soonyoung. “um, i guess you just…ask her?”, he says, unsure.

soonyoung groans again, pulling a hand down his face. “ask her how?”

chan blinks again, looking around for some kind of answer. “I don’t know man, maybe text her? call her? i don’t know, just… ask?”

“it’s not that easy, chan,” soonyoung says, practically sinking into the bench that he had sat on. “why? does she not like watching movies or something?”, chan asks.

soonyoung buries his face in his hands, exasperated. “no! not like that—it’s just—ugh!” he lets out another sigh, quieter this time, and looks up at chan with eyes full of uncertainty. “i don’t know if she’d actually want to watch the movie with me”.

chan tilts his head, giving soonyoung a confused look. “you guys don’t do movie dates?”

soonyoung’s response is a helpless gesture of both his hands, as if he was trying to wrangle some logic from the air around him. “i… i don’t know! we haven’t really done anything like that before, and i—” he cuts himself off with a dramatic sigh. “this is so stupid, isn’t it?”

chan blinks at him, then his face softens with a quiet chuckle. “it’s not stupid man, you just gotta be honest with her and just ask her”, he encourages. chan gives him a small smile, patting him on the shoulder. “you’ll figure it out man, don’t stress, girls like that honesty thing trust me”, chan says.

chan then leaves since his workout is over and soonyoung is left alone with his thoughts. soonyoung contemplates how exactly he is going to ask you out to the movie without making a total fool of himself. he should just ask you right? it was such a simple thing really, but the thought of it felt too daunting for soonyoung. 

after the gym session, soonyoung heads back home. he takes a hot water shower but he still can’t stop thinking about the movie, about you. maybe he should ask seungkwan? when he comes out of the shower, he throws on sweatpants and a loose shirt, walking into the living room to see seungkwan sprawled on the couch. he walks up to seungkwan and takes a seat on the other end of the couch.

“what is it this time?”, seungkwan asks, without even looking at soonyoung, making him scoff. “why do you always assume i did something”, soonyoung complains. “because you have that look”, seungkwan tells and soonyoung mumbles something under his breath and finally seungkwan looks up at him,

and all of a sudden, soonyoung feels like an idiot all over again. “how do you…you know…like…how to ask a girl out…to the movies”, soonyoung asks slowly, the words coming out unsure. 

“man not this shit again”, seungkwan mutters, giving soonyoung a look “i’m starting to wonder how you even got a girlfriend at this point when you’re so clueless”, seungkwan says, bruising soonyoung’s ego.

“hey! i’m not that bad, this is just all…new”, he says, trying to salvage the situation but seungkwan was right, he was totally and utterly clueless.

“just tell me how to ask her to the movie”, soonyoung repeats, bringing the focus back on the situation. “and quick because the movie is tomorrow and i already have the tickets”, he adds. seungkwan gives him another serious look, asking soonyoung to come closer with a gesture of his hand.

“if you want to properly ask her out, you need to get a dove, write a message and send it to her house as a messenger”, seungkwan says, his tone dripping with sarcasm, but soonyoung doesn’t catch it. “but then wouldn’t that take too long?”, he asks.

“exactly you idiot, so you need to call or text her”, he nearly yells at soonyoung, exasperated. 

“but should i say?”, he asks, that lopsided frown forming on his face. “ssk her if she wants to watch a movie with you, what else are you going to say?”, seungkwan asks, scoffing with annoyance.

“okay man, calm down”, soonyoung says, unlocking his phone and opening your contact. his fingers hover over the keyboard as he wracks his brain on what to ask. he gives seungkwan a glace, who looks like he’s ready to snatch soonyoung’s phone and ask you instead.

soonyoung [10:35 PM]: hey! i know this is last minute but do you wanna go watch a movie with me tomorrow evening? i have an extra ticket.

soonyoung hits send and throws his phone on the couch with a yelp, covering a hand over his mouth. 

“i asked her," he says, his phone in the middle of the couch now. two minutes later his phone pings and soonyoung jumps. “is it her? what if she said no?”, soonyoung asks and seungkwan reaches for the phone to see who texted.

“it’s her”, seungkwan says. “really? what did she say?”, soonyoung asks, leaning closer.

“she said she doesn’t want to see the movie”, seungkwan lies and soonyoung looks like he’s about to burst into tears at any second. he snatches the phone from seungkwan and reads the reply you sent.

you [10:37 PM]: soonyoung hi! sure i don’t mind.

“SEUNGKWAN”, he yells, getting up in a huff and hurling one of the pillows at him. “i’m never asking you for help again”, soonyoung mutters out, walking back to his room. he closes the door and crashes onto his bed before he reads your text again, a small smile creeping up on his face.

so you did want to go to the movie with him. 

he turns over and buries his face into the pillow and smiles wider before gathering his thoughts, typing out a quick response.

soonyoung [10:38PM]: okay! the movie is at 8pm so i’ll pick you by 7:15

you [10:38 PM]: cool okay!

when saturday evening rolls around, soonyoung is freaking out. it’s like a tornado hit his room with the way all the clothes are splayed out on his bed and floor. he barges into seungkwan’s room for the fourth time, asking him if his outfit was okay.

“is this okay?”, soonyoung asks, adjusting his top. “yeah it’s fine”, seungkwan says, not bothering to look, which only makes soonyoung groan out in annoyance. “chill out man, it’s just a movie, you look fine”, he says, finally looking at soonyoung. “okay okay”, soonyoung says, glancing at the time on his watch and realizing he had to leave now if he wanted to reach your place on time.

you on the other hand are a mess too and you're starting to wonder why you agreed to this, except you had a good reason why—you wanted to test soonyoung’s and your chemistry. if he was going to come to the wedding with you, it needed to look like you were both really dating, and not pretending. plus this seemed like a good opportunity to teach a few things to him about being a boyfriend since he didn’t have any prior experience. 

you glance at the mirror, smoothing out the cream colored sweater that was tucked into the waistband of your high waisted jeans. it’s cozy and warm, perfect for the evening ahead. the look is casual yet sweet, just the right balance for a movie date. you slide on a pear of black ankle boot and you grab a small shoulder bag and sling it over your arm. you brush a hand through your hair, leaving your hair loose and letting it fall and frame your face naturally. 

just then you hear the honk of a car outside–it must be soonyoung. in a rush grab your lip tint, stuffing it in your bag and walking out. you open the door just as soonyoung is about to knock on the door and he’s a little surprised with the way you open the door so quickly, nearly bumping into him.

“soonyoung, hi!”, you say in a rush of nerves for some reason. soonyoung’s wearing a loose, dark brown jacket over a simple black tee and jeans. his ash blonde silver hair is slightly tousled as it falls over his forehead, just enough to make it look like he’s run his hands through it a few times, giving him a messy, carefree look—it’s cute. his hair catches the light under your front door, softening his sharp features, but still making him look striking in a way. 

soonyoung almost forgets to respond to you, distracted by how pretty you look. his eyes roam over you, lingering on you, taking in the way your hair falls loosely and frames your face just right, or the way you’d put on some makeup, something different than your usual office makeup, something bolder, but still pretty. his eyes flicker back up to yours, a hint of surprise in them, before he finally gives you a soft, almost distracted smile.

“h-hi”, he stutters out, clearing his throat, hoping he didn’t sound like a fool and wasn’t caught staring at you in awe. “are you ready?”, he asks after a second, and you nod. “yup, i’ll just grab the keys and lock up”, you say and walk back inside, grabbing the keys from the bowl and walking back out. you lock the door behind you and drop the keys in your bag. 

soonyoung runs over to the car and you’re confused for a moment before you realise he’s opening the door for you. you give him a small smile and say a small thank you before you sit inside, and he closes the door.  but how did soonyoung know all this? he had stayed up the entire night, googling silly things. every search felt like another step into the unknown. “what to do on a movie date,” he typed in, squinting as the search results loaded. his fingers hovered over the screen, unsure if it was a good idea to click on it before and if he overthinking this entire thing. in a panic, he clicks on the —“10 things you should NEVER do on a first date” article.

the more he googled, the more overwhelmed he became. “date ideas for people who have no idea what they’re doing,” he types instead, praying for something that might make him seem like less of a disaster. he didn’t want to screw this entire thing up. he had even watched a youtube tutorial titled “how to not be awkward on dates (for dummies), and read through countless articles like “how to be a good boyfriend,”. “how to impress your girlfriend”, “how to hold hands”. he was trying his best, but this was all just new, uncharted territory for him.

the drive to the theater is quiet and when he pulls up at a red light signal, soonyoung turns around to glance at you. you dig into your bag for the lip tint you had thrown in there and open it, hoping it still had some product left in it because it was on the verge of getting over. you open the cap and try to scrape out whatever product you could get on the wand and apply it on your lips, dabbing it with your finger to spread it out evenly. you hadn’t bought a new one because this one was out of stock and you hadn’t had the time to go to a store and look for similar shades. soonyoung watches you, wondering why you hadn’t just bought a new one. it’s only when the cars honk from behind that he snaps out of his daze from staring at you and drives ahead. once you reach the theater, you get out and you both walk inside. you stop just short of the entrance, prompting soonyoung to stop and turn around, looking at you a little confused.

"hey, soonyoung?," you say, your voice soft but purposeful. he walks over to you immediately, eyes wide with anticipation, clearly ready for whatever you’re about to say. “yeah?”, he asks.

you hesitate for a moment, then take a deep breath. “do you maybe want to try... holding hands?", you ask softly.

for a split second, soonyoung’s face freezes when he hears your words and his brows furrow slightly, like he didn’t quite catch what you said. he repeats it, a little too quickly, as though he’s making sure he heard you right. “hold hands?”

you smile, trying to ease the awkwardness. "yeah, like... we could practice doing some stuff today, you know? since you're coming with me to that wedding and all."

soonyoung blinks a couple times, still processing your words and his gaze flicks down to the ground, then back up at you, like he's trying to figure out if you're joking. "wait, you really meant it? you're really taking me to the wedding?"

you can’t help but laugh a little, amused by how surprised he sounds. "of course, i wouldn't leave you behind. plus, if i showed up without you, my friends would probably kill me”, you explain.

soonyoung relaxes a little, but there's still this wide-eyed, nervous energy around him. he clears his throat, trying to act cool, but it’s clear he’s a bit flustered. “i—uh—okay, so hold hands?”, he prompts again and you nod. “yeah, just for a bit, we can practice, it’s not a big deal”, you say, trying to sound reassuring.

soonyoung scratches the back of his neck nervously. "okay... we can try, i mean, we’re just practicing, right?", he asks as he looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of excitement and hesitation. you extend your hand slowly, watching as soonyoung does the same. his fingers tremble just a little, and he hesitates for a fraction of a second before his hand brushes against yours. he pulls his hand back almost immediately, like he was suddenly unsure. he looks at you again and you give him a small encouraging smile.

this time, when you offer your hand again, soonyoung hesitates just a little, his fingers hovering over yours as if he’s psyching himself up to reach out and take your hand. when he finally takes your hand, it’s tentative—like he's afraid he might break something. but then, after a deep breath, he laces his fingers with yours, and his hand feels warm, a little sweaty, but he’s holding your hand now.

you feel a soft chuckle bubble up from soonyoung. "whoa, this is actually kind of nice," he admits, his voice a little higher pitched than usual, a clear sign that he’s nervous but trying to hide it. you smile, "i think it’s nice too”, you say, smiling up at him.

for a moment, neither of you speaks, just standing there with your hands clasped together and soonyoung fidgets slightly, glancing down at your joined hands as if he was checking that it's real, and then back up at you. his face is flushed, a mix of shyness and excitement and something a little more earnest in his expression. he notices how small your hand looks in his, how his hand practically could engulf yours entirely, and he thinks that’s cute.

"so," he starts again, his voice soft, but holding a tone of determination. "we’re really doing this, huh? holding hands like a couple?", he asks as he looks at you. 

you chuckle, the tension easing as he gets more comfortable. "yep, just a little practice before the wedding”, you confirm. 

after that first tentative moment of holding hands, the two of you make your way into the theater and soonyoung seems to have shaken off his initial nerves. but every now and then his fingers give yours an almost unnoticeable squeeze, as if he’s checking to make sure it’s still real, that he is in fact holding your hand. you buy a bucket of popcorn and you both head inside the theater, finding your seats. soonyoung is nervous as he sits down and he wipes his slightly sweaty palms on the side of his jeans, before glancing over at you. 

the smell of buttery popcorn fills the air as you reach into the bucket, grabbing a handful before turning your attention back to the screen. you glance at soonyoung, who is sitting beside you, his hand hovering hesitantly over the popcorn. he had barely eaten any since the movie started, and you could tell he was holding back.

"i'm not going to eat this entire bucket myself soonyoung," you say softly, nudging the popcorn towards him with a smile. "you can have some more”, you say and he nods, mumbling a quiet, "yeah, sure," before finally taking some more.

the movie starts, the screen illuminating both of your faces in the dim theater. at first, soonyoung is focused on the movie ahead, his gaze locked onto the action unfolding before him. but at some point, his attention wavers, and instead of the film, he finds himself watching you—the way your eyes light up whenever something funny happens, the way your brows furrowed in concentration during an intense scene. the soft glow of the screen made your features even more captivating, and he couldn't help but admire the way you reacted so naturally to every moment.

his fingers absentmindedly reach for more of the popcorn, just at the same time yours does, and the brief touch of your fingers against his sends a jolt of electricity through him, and he immediately retracts his hand, swallowing nervously. you turn your head slightly, glancing at him with a knowing smile, before pushing the bucket a little closer to him in silent reassurance.

when the movie is over and the credits roll out, you stretch lightly in your seat before looking over at him. "that was good," you say with a satisfied smile and soonyoung nods, though he had hardly paid attention to the second half of the film. you both step out into the cool night air. your stomach grumbles quietly because the popcorn you had eaten had been more of a snack than a meal, and now the real hunger was creeping in. you glance over at soonyoung. "i'm still kind of hungry, do you want to grab something to eat?", you ask.

"yeah, sure," he replies, perking up slightly. "there's this really good burger place not too far from here, i can drive us there”, he says.

when you arrive at the burger place, the scent of grilled patties and crispy fries fill the air as you both step inside. the restaurant has a casual, welcoming atmosphere, and you quickly place your orders before finding a booth to sit in. soonyoung sits across from you, his fingers fiddling with the napkins on the table, carefully arranging and then rearranging them as if it was the most important task in the world. there was a nervous energy about him, and you watched him for a moment before leaning forward slightly.

"you okay?" you ask, tilting your head lightly and his hands still for a second before he lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “yeah, just, uh…" he hesitates before looking up to meet your gaze, and then glancing away again. you smile softly, resting your chin on your hand. "you sure?”, you ask again and he finally lets go of the tissue in his hand. “i guess i'm just kind of nervous”, he admits.

"nervous?" you repeat, eyebrows raising slightly. "why?"

soonyoung hesitates, then meets your eyes again, this time holding your gaze a little longer. "i just don't want to mess this up”, he admits softly.

your heart does a small, unexpected flip at his words and a warmth spreads through you as you smile at him, a little softer this time. "soonyoung," you say, your voice gentle, "you don’t have to be nervous, you’re doing great!”, you assure and his lips part slightly in surprise before he breaks into a small grin, a mix of relief and happiness flashing across his face. and just like that, the nervous energy between you both shifts into something lighter—something warm.

the food arrives and the scent of freshly grilled burgers and crispy fries and buttery toasted buns fill the air as you and soonyoung sit across from each other in the booth. you are hungry, so without hesitation you pick up your burger and take a big bite. the flavors hit instantly and you let out a small hum of satisfaction.

soonyoung laughs softly at your reaction, taking a bite of his own burger. "good, right?" he asks, his words slightly muffled as he chews and you nod.

"amazing," you reply after swallowing, already reaching for a fry. "you were right, this place is really good”.

the two of you eat comfortably, occasionally exchanging small talk. the late night atmosphere in the diner feels warm, with the soft hum of conversation from other customers and the occasional clang of plates from the kitchen, the smell of fries and salt lingering in the air.

at one point, soonyoung glances up and notices something—just the tiniest smudge of sauce at the corner of your mouth. his lips part slightly, his fingers tightening around his burger as he thinks and hesitates, wondering what to do. he was hoping you’d notice it and take action yourself, but you were too busy licking salt off your fingers from the fries, completely unaware of it.

soonyoung could’ve told you, he could’ve pointed it out and let you wipe it away yourself because that would’ve been the normal thing to do. but instead, before he can stop himself, he is already moving and he reaches across the table, lifting his hand. his thumb grazes over the corner of your lips in the most soft motion. his touch is warm, almost featherlight and it catches you completely off guard. your breath hitches and your eyes flicker up to meet his, widening slightly, 

soonyoung freezes midway, his brain catching up on what he had just done. his thumb still lingers on your skin, before he pulls his hand back quickly, looking down before he looks back up at you.

"uh—" he starts, clearing his throat, his ears burning red. "you, uh... had some sauce right there." he says as he points awkwardly to the same spot on his own mouth.

you blink quietly, still processing what he had done, the warmth of his touch lingering even after he had pulled away.  "oh, thanks," you murmur and soonyoung lets out a nervous chuckle, looking down at his own food like it had suddenly become the most interesting thing right now. “yeah, uh, no problem”, he says, taking a fry and shoving it in his mouth in an attempt to recover from what he had just done.

you don’t say anything more, but it was like there was a shift in the air between the both of you—a quiet sort of electricity buzzing beneath the surface. soonyoung finally looks up, stealing another glance at you before he picks up his drink and chugs it down, hoping it’d ease his racing heart. 

when soonyoung goes home, he looks defeated. he sighs as he plops down onto the couch and keeps recalling the moment where he wiped the sauce off your lips, feeling like such an idiot. he hadn’t screwed up things between you both, right?

you decide to meet soonyoung once more next week for a little more practice, and today’s meeting point was by the lake near the park. the reason you loved going there was to feed the ducks. you had made it a habit to go there at least once a week or twice a month if you were too busy, and today seemed like a good excuse to go there—with soonyoung too.

you decide to walk there from your place, since it was relatively close and decide to meet soonyoung at the park itself, texting him the location. you wear something simple, some blue jeans, a white crop top, a baby blue cardigan and a pair of sneakers—it was simple, yet comfortable. the sunlight filters through the trees, casting soft patterns of light and shadows onto the wooden walkway to the lake, the air smells faintly of greenery and a quiet breeze rustles the leaves of the trees.

soonyoung stands there, casually leaning against the black railing, waiting for you. his blonde hair gleams under the sunlight, slightly ruffled by the wind, falling over his forehead and eyes. he’s wearing a light gray denim jacket that’s oversized over a simple crisp and clean white t-shirt that peeks out. he’s also wearing grey denim shorts to match and it hangs jus right, stopping just below his knees. his look is complete with a pair of cream colored slip on shoes. he shifts slightly, one hand resting against the railing, the other hand loosely hanging by his side. his gaze is steady and soft, yet thoughtful, as though he’s lost in the moment. he can hear the rustle of the leaves, feel the warmth of the sun and the quiet hum of the world around him. it’s only when he glances to his left that he finally sees you and his eyes light up. he gives you a wave as you walk up to him and you give him a small smile. 

“hey, you made it”, you say, the paper bag you bought along with some bread rustling in your hand. soonyoung’s looks curiously at the bag in your hand then looks at you. 

“do you want to hold hands again? you know, for practice”, you ask, and soonyoung nods, before squeaking out a small yes. you hold your hand out and this time he takes it without much hesitation, intertwining his fingers in yours and he gives you a small grin.

“come on, they’re waiting, let’s go”, you say, not giving him much information and you start walking, leading soonyoung, who’s following beside you as you both walk together hand in hand.

“who’s waiting?”, he asks. “the ducks!”, you reply and he glances at you. “ducks?”, he repeats. “have you never fed the ducks here?”, you ask and he shakes his head, “i didn’t know you could feed them”, he says. “well, i’ll introduce you to them”, you say turning the corner and the lake is visible now, the ducks too.

you smile softly when you near the ducks, letting go of soonyoung’s hand as you crouch down near the lake shore. the ducks seem to recognize you immediately, their quacks echoing across the water as they paddle toward you, their little feet slap against the wet grass as they waddle up to the edge, and your smile widens at the sight.

“well, someone’s popular,” soonyoung teases, crouching down beside you as you pull out some bread crumbs from the paper bag you had brought along.

“hi, guys,” you say softly, tossing a piece of bread toward the closest duck. the rest of the flock scrambles forward, quacking in protest, and you can’t help but laugh. you hand soonyoung a handful of crumbs. “here, you can help me feed them”, you say. soonyoung he throws a piece of bread to a particularly round duck and you point at it. “that’s sprinkles,” you say, grinning.

soonyoung freezes mid toss and turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “wait, you’ve named them?”

“of course,” you reply, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. you gesture to another duck, slightly smaller but just as eager. “that’s biscuit”, you say and then you then point to three more ducks that have joined the crowd. “and over there are noodle, muffin, and bubbles”.

he stares at you, visibly baffled. “you’ve named all of them?”

“well, not all of them,” you admit with a shrug. “just the regulars”, you say.

soonyoung narrows his eyes, looking between the ducks. “how can you even tell them apart? they all look the same to me”, he says and you gasp softly in mock offense. “excuse me? they each have their own unique personalities!”, you say and he snorts, clearly unconvinced, but he plays along, tossing a crumb toward the closest duck. “okay, that’s… biscuit, right?”, he asks and you shake your head. “no, that’s sprinkles”, you correct.

“right, sprinkles,” he says, nodding like he’s taking this very seriously. he tosses another crumb, pointing to a different duck. “and that one is muffin?”.

“nope, that’s bubbles,” you say, giggling now. he lets out a dramatic sigh, throwing another small piece of bread. “this is impossible! they’re all the same color”, he says, looking defeated.

“you just need to pay attention,” you say. “like noodle—he’s the one with the slightly crooked feather on his tail, and muffin is always the one at the back, kind of shy”, you explain. soonyoung squints at the flock, clearly trying to identify the subtle differences you’ve pointed out. “okay, but how am i supposed to tell biscuit from sprinkles?”, he asks.

“well, sprinkles has more attitude,” you say with a grin, gesturing to the duck in question, who is currently quacking loudly and shoving the others out of the way to get to the crumbs. soonyoung laughs, tossing another piece of bread to it. “oh yeah, i see it now”, he says.

soonyoung tosses a crumb directly in front of sprinkles and the duck snatches it up with a quick peck and waddles closer. "hey, sprinkles has really got an appetite," soonyoung remarks, tossing another crumb and the duck waddles even closer. then, for reasons only soonyoung would understand, he suddenly cups his hands around his mouth and lets out a loud, dramatic "QUACK!".

you freeze, turning to him as you try not to laugh. you’re about to open your mouth but then all the ducks on the pond swivel their heads in unison, their beady eyes locking onto soonyoung like he just declared a fight on the ducks.

"uh-oh," he says, standing up slowly.

"soonyoung, what did you do?" you whisper, trying not to laugh as sprinkles seems to waddle closer to him.

"i was trying to communicate!" he hisses back, taking a step backward as more ducks emerge from the water, their webbed feet slapping on the grass.

"well, they’re communicating now" you say, barely holding back laughter.

one duck quacks loudly, as if rallying the troops, and suddenly the entire flock is waddling toward soonyoung, their little heads bobbing with determination as they flock towards soonyoung.

"oh no," he stammers, backing away faster and all you can do is double over with laughter as the ducks seem to crowd around soonyoung. you stand up and try to shoo away the ducks, trying to distract them with breadcrumbs, but they aren’t deterred. so soonyoung does the only thing he can think off—he grabs your hand and runs. 

“soonyoung!”, you yelp out as he takes off, pulling you along with him and you run behind him, his hand interlocked with yours. you’re running, dodging stones and twigs, but then your leg gets caught on a stone and you lose your footing, and before you can process what’s happening, your balance topples and you’re falling.

“soonyoung!” you cry out, as you fall forward.

he reacts in an instant when he hears your voice and he whips around just in time to see you stumbling forward. without a second thought, he lunges toward you, arms outstretched, holding onto you and instead of hitting the ground, you land on him, the momentum knocking the both of you over. the world spins for a second, and when it steadies, you realize you’re sprawled on top of soonyoung, your hands pressed against his chest. his arms are wrapped around you, one hand cradling the back of your head to shield you and his face is so close to yours that you can feel the warmth of his breath as he speaks.

“are you okay?” he asks softly, his voice full of concern. his wide, worried eyes searching yours, making your heart stutter.

you nod, suddenly hyper aware of how close you are. “yeah, i’m fine,” you mumble out, quickly pushing yourself up and sitting back. but the moment you put weight on your foot, a sharp pain shoots up your ankle and you let out a small gasp.

“what’s wrong?” soonyoung asks as he gets up immediately. “i think i sprained my ankle”, you say softly and his eyes dart to your ankle and back to your face, guilt etched into his expression. “i’m so sorry,” he says, his voice filled with regret. “this is my fault. i should’ve been more careful. i shouldn’t have—”

“soonyoung,” you interrupt, your voice soft despite the light pain. “it’s okay. it’s not your fault.”

“but it is,” he insists, shaking his head. “i shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. i didn’t think—” “hey,” you say, placing your hand lightly on his arm. “it’s just a sprain. i’ll be fine”, you assure, but the lopsided pout on his face remains and he doesn’t look convinced. instead, he shifts closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “you could’ve really gotten hurt, shit, i don’t know what i’d do if something worse happened”, he says, but you give him another reassuring smile. “i’ll be fine, really”, you say. soonyoung helps you get up and guides you to a nearby bench, his arms steady around you as he holds you, but the guilt never leaves his face. he sets you down on the bench and looks at you like you’re made of glass, like if he just blinks, you might shatter.

“you can’t go home like this”, he says with a frown. “i’ll carry you home”, he declares after a moment and you blink at him. “wait what?”, you say but he’s already crouching down in front of you, patting his back.

“get on”, he says and you stare at him because he couldn't really be serious about this.

“soonyoung, no, that’s ridiculous,” you protest. “you can’t possibly carry me all the way home”, you say looking at him.

he turns his head to give you a look over his shoulder. “you’re not walking on that ankle, not even for a second”, he declares.

“but—” “no buts, now come on. you’re not going home like this and i refuse to let you limp the whole way”, he says with a pout. you sigh, knowing there’s no winning against him when he’s this determined. “fine, but don’t you dare drop me”, you finally say, giving in.

“pfft. please”, he scoffs. “i’ve been training for this moment my whole life”, he says and you roll your eyes because that was such a jihyo thing to say. they really were a pair of siblings. you carefully move forward, draping your arms over his shoulders and the second you do, he reaches back, hooking his arms under your legs and lifting you up effortlessly.

“whoa—okay,” you gasp as he stands up straight, securing his grip, adjusting his hold slightly so you’re comfortable. “okay now hold on tight”, he says and you do, wrapping your arms a little tighter around his shoulders as he starts walking. despite everything—the pain, the ridiculousness of the situation—you can’t help but smile lightly.

“you’re really that worried about me, huh?” you ask softly, resting your chin against his shoulder. soonyoung doesn’t answer right away, but when he does his voice is quieter than before. “of course i am. it’s you”, he says and your heart stumbles a little at his words.

“i just hate that you got hurt because of me” he continues. “if i had been paying more attention, then maybe i could’ve—”

“stop that,” you interrupt. “this isn’t your fault, soonyoung. you already did more than enough to make sure i didn’t hit the ground face first”, you say and he exhales slowly, his grip on your legs tightening just a bit. “still. i’d rather be the one getting hurt than you”.

the two of you continue down the sidewalk and his steps are careful and steady. despite your protests earlier, you find that being carried by soonyoung like this is… nice. it doesn’t feel weird or odd, but it feels right for some reason, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. soonyoung's grip on your legs is secure and his warmth seeps through his shirt into you. every so often you can feel the slight shift of his muscles as he adjusts his hold, making sure you’re comfortable. the steady rhythm of his breathing mixes with the distant hum of the evening air, and for a moment, it’s easy to forget about the dull throbbing in your ankle. you glance up and realize your house is just a few minutes away and guilt creeps in at the thought of him carrying you all this way. “are you sure you don’t need a break?” you ask hesitantly. “i think i can walk from here”, you add.

he doesn’t even slow down as he replies. “i’m good,” he says, as if carrying you for the past several blocks was nothing. but you don’t miss the way his shoulders subtly flex or  the way he exhales just a little harder than before. you frown, guilt pressing harder against your chest.

“soonyoung,” you say softly. “i’ll just walk. it’s really fine. i don’t want to burden you”.

he scoffs, adjusting his grip on your legs as if to prove his point. “burden? are you serious?” he asks, glancing back at you with a look. “well yeah, aren’t you tired?”, you ask and he stops walking. then,with zero warning, he spins you around on his back, making you yelp and you tighten your hold around his shoulders, your legs wrapping around his sides out of instinct, your arms tightening around his neck.

“soonyoung!” you screech, your voice caught between shock and laughter. his grip is secure despite the sudden movement. “if i was tired, do you think i could i do that?” he challenges playfully and you huff, smacking his shoulder as he starts to walk again.

“what the hell? i’m telling jihyo about this”, you say and soonyoung freezes mid step. 

“wait, what?”, he asks, his tone faltering and your smirk widens. got him. “oh, you heard me”, you say as he slowly starts walking again, but there’s a slight panic in his voice now. “you wouldn’t”, he tells.

“oh, you know,” you say innocently, tilting your head. “how would she feel knowing her little brother just threw me around like a sack of rice? or what would she say about how you almost dropped me in the middle of the street?”, you tell with a dramatic sigh.

“i did not throw you!” he exclaims, voice high-pitched. “and i definitely didn’t drop you!”, he defends as he starts walking again faster this time like he was on a mission to prove something. “you wouldn’t”, he says and you smirk, having fun teasing him.

“oh, i definitely would”, you say. “yn, you can’t be serious”, he asks.

“i am dead serious”, you say and he groans like his soul is physically leaving his body. “do you want me to die? because that’s what’s gonna happen if she finds out”, he says with a small whine. you can’t take it anymore and you burst out laughing, shaking slightly as you cling onto him. “oh my god, you’re so dramatic”, you say as you giggle and you lift your hand to ruffle his hair, your fingers slipping easily through the soft strands. “you’re such an idiot,” you say, your voice fond despite your words. he stiffens for half a second—so brief you almost don’t catch it—before he exhales sharply. he mumbles something, ducking his head slightly, but making no move to stop you.

“I’m just pulling your leg,” you say finally, your voice light and teasing. you’re still smiling as you drop your hand back to your side, and he hums in response, low and soft. he doesn’t say anything else, but the faint smile on his face remains. your house finally comes into view, and you’re suddenly hit with the realization that in just a few minutes, he’ll set you down and this whole thing—this stupid, sweet, ridiculous moment will just be a memory—and somehow you almost don’t want it to end.

soonyoung carries you up to the front steps, pausing in front of the building. “home sweet home,” he says and you blink, snapping back to reality. soonyoung carefully kneels so you can slide off his back, his hands lingering on your arm to make sure you’re steady. but the moment your foot touches the ground, a sharp sting shoots up your leg, and you wince.

soonyoung’s hand tightens on your arm as he turns around. “don’t put weight on it yet,” he says, his brows knitting together in concern. “are you okay?” , he asks and you sigh, shifting your weight to your other leg. “yeah, i guess it’s just sore”, you say and his frown deepens. “make sure to put some ice on it”, he says and you nod.

“i’ll be fine after some rest”, you say and soonyoung still looks worried. he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “again i’m so sorry”, he says.

“i swear if you apologize one more time, i’m really going to tell jihyo”, you threaten and he gives you a look. “okay okay”, he grumbles, looking at you before he takes a step back. “just remember to ice it”, he says again as he walks backwards and you nod, waving at him before you unlock your door and hobble inside. soonyoung texts you later that evening. 

soonyoung [9:37 PM]: did you ice your leg???

you  [9:38 PM]: oops, i will do that now.

soonyoung [9:40 PM]: yn 🤨 please ice it and rest your leg! (p.s please don’t tell jihyo)

the office is abuzz with talk and energy, since it was your co-worker’s wedding this weekend. “yn you’re bringing your boyfriend to the wedding right”, mina asks, nudging you lightly and you give her a knowing look.

“yes yes, i will”, you say and they all seem to cheer. “he’s so cute, what does he do by the way?”, one of them asks, and all of them seem to turn their attention to you, interested in your boyfriend, well fake boyfriend. 

“he’s a dancer”, you say and they all gasp collectively, not expecting that answer. “that’s so cool!”, one of them says. “he works at a dance studio downtown”, you add, feeling a little proud. 

“he’s so much better than jaehyun”, mina says and at the mention of jaehyun, the atmosphere shifts. it’s subtle—just a slight pause in conversation, a flicker of exchanged glances—but you can feel it. mina presses her lips together, like she’s debating whether to say more, before finally sighing.

“speaking of jaehyun…my fiancé invited him,” she says carefully. “apparently, they’re close business friends so…” mina trails off, watching you closely for your reaction. the thought of seeing jaehyun again makes your stomach flip and you gulp. 

“it’s fine, i’m over him anyway”, you say, shrugging, trying to act like this piece of information didn’t really bother you. mina doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t push it and one of the girls quickly changes the subject, plucking the invitation from mina’s hand.

“okay, but can we talk about the most important part of the wedding?” she asks dramatically and mina’s eyes light up. “the slow dance?”, she asks and the group bursts into exciting chatter and mina nods with a smile on her face. “it’s going to be a huge part of the reception! after the first dance, everyone joins in, so no one is getting out of it,” she says.

“that sounds so romantic,” one of the girls says, sighing dreamily. “it is,” mina agrees. “but you know what i’m most excited for?” she turns to you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “seeing yn’s boyfriend on the dance floor”, mina says and you look at her, eyes widening.

“oh my god yes, he’s literally a dancer so he’s gonna make everyone else look so amateur”, one of them says, and they all laugh. “wait, wait,” another friend chimes in, grinning at you. “you’re gonna slow dance with him, right?”

you open your mouth, ready to argue, but the group seems to gasp at the same time. “oh my god,” mina gasps. “what if he dips you? or does one of those fancy spins? yn you guys have to dance together, you have no choice”, mina declares and you internally groan, covering you face in embarrassment. “yes you guys have to dance!”, the others echo in and you can only hide your face even more. you had zero dancing skills so you were very likely to make an embarrassment out of yourself on the dance floor, and knowing mina, she was going to make you dance no matter what. 

on your way home, you decide to take a detour and drop by the dance studio soonyoung works at. you were hoping he’d be there because you weren’t sure if he was working today or not. you manage to find it pretty easily and walk inside. you look around like you’re lost and you glance around at the place. 

“can i help you?”, someone asks, walking towards you. “oh, i’m looking for soonyoung”, you say. “oh, did you have a class scheduled with him? i think he’s done for today”, they say, but you shake your head.

“oh no, i’m just here to see him, i’m his girlfriend”, you say, the words coming out naturally before you can catch yourself and they nod, telling you to follow them. you nod in thanks, your heart suddenly hammering in your chest as you walk down the quiet corridor. your footsteps echo slightly against the polished floor, and with each step, a new thought rushes through your mind. should i have said that? does it even matter? why am i nervous?

when you finally reach the last door, they let you know that he’s inside and you could go in before they turn around and walk back to the front. you hesitate as you stand in front of the door, your fingers hovering over the handle. but then you notice that it’s slightly ajar, and without thinking, you push it open just a fraction more. your eyes immediately land on soonyoung. he’s in the center of the room, his reflection mirrored back at you from all angles. he’s practicing something intricate, his footwork light and sharp and you pause, watching him for a moment. he’s completely focused and you take a slow, deep breath, steadying yourself before gently knocking on the door. the sound breaks through the room and soonyoung hears it immediately, his movements slowing but never fully stopping. "come in," he says, but he doesn’t glance up yet.

you step forward cautiously and close the door behind you. when soonyoung finally looks up, his eyes widen slightly in surprise as he looks at you from the reflection in the mirror. “yn?”, he says, his voice carrying a note of surprise as he turns to get a better look at you as you walk closer to him.

you shift awkwardly under his gaze, suddenly hyper aware of everything in the room. you clear your throat, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "uh, hey," you say, voice coming out a little breathy. “what are you doing here?”, he asks, a little confused but happy to see you. “i mean not that you can’t come here, i just didn’t expect to see you here”, he says, his fingers starting to fidget with the hem of his shirt nervously before he crosses his arms across his chest.

“i just i’d drop by, you’re always asking me to come visit”, you say softly, looking around the huge room, taking in the mirrored walls, the polished wooden floor, and the faint hum of music still lingering in the air. soonyoung stands near the wall, his posture relaxed yet impossibly striking. he’s wearing a white sleeveless tank top, the fabric clinging just enough to highlight his toned shoulders and chest. and with the way his arms are crossed against his chest, it only seems to highlight and show off the defined curve of his biceps and toned arms, which are on full display. a simple silver chain rests against his collarbone, catching the light and you gulp before you tear your gaze away.

“i wasn’t sure if you’d actually be here,” you add after a moment, trying to sound cool. “well, here i am”, soonyoung says, his voice smooth and teasing. when you glance back at him, he’s watching you with a raised brow, “ i didn’t expect you to catch me mid practice though”, he continues, pushing off the wall and taking a few slow steps toward you. “but i’m glad you came”, he says, his tone sweet.

his words are light, but there’s something in the way he looks at you—soft, warm, almost appreciative, that makes your stomach flutter. you clear your throat, willing yourself to focus on literally anything else, but your eyes betray you again, trailing down to his arms and the way his shoulders shift as he moves closer. the tank top he’s wearing does absolutely nothing to help your situation, and you silently curse him for looking this good.

“i guess i thought i’d surprise you,” you manage to say, your voice quieter now. “plus the wedding is this weekend, so i thought i’d just drop by”, you say as you fish into your bag for the invitation, handing it to soonyoung. 

“can i ask you something?”, you ask after you give him a moment to go over the invitation and he looks up at you. “sure”, he says but you hesitate, the words dying on your tongue. “never mind, it’s stupid”, you say, brushing it off, but soonyoung doesn’t let you brush it off.

“what is it?”, he asks again and you stare at him for a second, your eyes darting to the side of the room before you speak.

"um...do you know…how to slow dance?", you ask softly and soonyoung tilts his head slightly before he nods. "yeah i do, why?" he asks curiously.

you cross your arm over your chest. "you know mina’s wedding? the one we’re going to, apparently slow dancing is part of it, and since we’re fake dating, people are gonna expect us to dance together. i just don’t wanna make a fool of myself if we actually end up dancing”, you try to explain and you watch as soonyoung puts down the invitation on the floor near his bottle before he stands back up. 

“so you want me to teach you?", he asks and you nod shyly as heat rises to your cheeks. "only if you actually know how," you shoot back, looking at him. soonyoung lets out a mock offended gasp, pressing a hand to his chest. "excuse me? i’m a dancer, so of course i know how to slow dance”, he says and his eyes hold a little amusement in them as he takes a small step closer.

“i can teach you”, he offers and you feel so shy all of a sudden. you shrug, “if you’re willing to then i guess fine”, you say and he laughs softly, his voice dipping lower as he extends a hand toward you. he pauses just a fraction of a second before speaking again. “can i?”, he asks, holding his hand out, as if giving you space to make a decision. this was the same boy who was nervous about holding your hand for the first time and now he is asking you if he could hold yours.

“i promise i won’t step on your toes”, he says, to lighten the mood, but there’s something almost vulnerable about the question, the way he’s careful, like he’s waiting for your permission to do more than just teach you how to move. you shrug your bag off your shoulder and put it to the side. then you reach out for soonyoung’s hand, your fingers curling around his fingers. the air around you feels charged with something subtle and his smile deepens slightly. there’s a glint of reassurance in his eyes, in the look he gives you that makes your heart stir. 

your breath stutters as soonyoung pulls you in, his fingers warm and steady around yours. he doesn’t hesitate, like this is the most natural thing in the world. "okay," he murmurs, his voice softer now, melting into something calmer, something almost intimate. "let’s start with the basics”, soonyoung says again, his voice turning quieter. he gently tugs you forward, positioning your feet. “for a basic slow dance, you want to keep close, but not too close, because you don’t want to crowd your partner’s space,” he explains. 

you swallow, suddenly hyper aware of everything—his hand in yours, the slight distance between your bodies, the way his gaze flickers down to meet yours. and suddenly you’re not sure if you’re more nervous about the dance, or the fact that soonyoung is so close to you. you try to take a small step back, in an attempt to create some distance between you both but he gently tugs you back in. “i’m not going to bite”, he jokes, looking at you, probably sensing your nervous energy and you let out a small nervous laugh. “okay okay”, you say and watch as soonyoung shifts his other hand, reaching out but stopping mid air. 

“can i?”, he asks again and you nod before soonyoung shifts his hold, guiding your hand up to rest lightly on his shoulder while his other hand settles just above your waist. “first we’ll start with the basic steps”, he says, his voice quiet but firm. “left foot forward, like this”, he says and demonstrates, stepping forward with his left foot. you mimic the motion, lifting your left foot and bringing it forward just as he did and soonyoung watches you intently, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, but there’s no judgment, only quiet encouragement. he takes a small step backward, gently pulling you along with him. 

“perfect,” he says, his voice smooth and soft, a proud smile curling on his lips. “now, bring your right foot to meet it, just like that and step together. but take it nice and easy, there’s no rush”, he guides. his touch is light, hovering near your waist to ensure you’re in position. “feel the weight shift between your feet as you move” he continues, his voice gentle. “it’s about connecting with the rhythm, letting your body move as one”, he instructs. 

you try to focus on matching his steps, but your mind is a little too occupied with the fact that his hand is resting on your waist and you can feel the warmth of his hand seeping through the fabric of your blouse. you fumble on the next step, accidentally stepping on his toes. "shit i’m sorry”, you say, glancing up at him but he doesn't seem to mind. "relax," he says, giving you a small smile, like he expected this.

"you’re thinking too much”, he adds and you scowl at him. “easy for you to say since you’re the expert here”, you counter and his smile only seems to deepen at your words.

you restart the movements and you step out with your right foot this time. soonyoung mirrors you, guiding you slowly through the motion. his hand rests lightly against your lower back, adjusting your posture, his touch both firm and reassuring. “good, now we’ll step back. first left foot and then the right foot to meet it”, he says and soonyoung’s hand never leaves your back, always guiding you with gentle pressure as you step and move together.  

“you want to move your body with your feet, don’t just focus on your feet—your body needs to follow too. it’s about fluidity, like we’re moving together as one”, he says, instructing you throughout. you think it’s kind of hot how much knowledge he has about this, especially with the way he was teaching you. you move through the sequence again, a little more fluid this time, the steps coming more naturally. soonyong notices the shift, his eyes lighting up. “there you go, you’re getting it”, he says with a smile.

for the next few minutes, you both move in sync, each step a little smoother, a little more confident. soonyoung’s hands are always gentle on your body, but they’re never hesitant as he guides you through each movement with a patience that makes you feel like nothing else matters in this moment. as you both continue to move, the music in the background fades into a soft hum, and the only sound is the rhythm of your movements, the gentle pull of his hands, and the careful way in which he holds you.

"okay, now just follow my lead, do you trust me?”, he asks, breaking the silence and you hesitate for half a second before you nod, not sure what he meant. 

"good," he says, and then without warning, he starts moving again, this time but slightly faster. you gasp, nearly tripping over your own feet, but his hold tightens just enough to steady you.

"soonyoung!”, you say and he laughs. "you said you trusted me," he says, his tone way too smug. "well i take it back," you grumble out, but you follow his steps anyway, trying your best to match his pace. and to your surprise, after a few beats, it actually starts to feel easier, almost natural. the push and pull of movement, the way his steps guide yours without hesitation. he’s a natural at this and eventually your body starts to just follow.

soonyoung’s smile widens as he pulls you in a little closer, his fingers gently curling around yours, guiding you into another step. the moment is easy, light, almost playful, but there’s still that underlying warmth between you both. “see?” he murmurs again, his voice lower now, closer to your ear. “you’re doing fine. i knew you had it in you”, he says, his hand lightly resting on your waist as his thumb traces small circles on your back and you can’t help but feel a small shiver run through your spine at the action. his gaze is so soft, so assured as you glance up at him and he tilts his head, his eyes sparkling mischievously. 

“do you want me to dip you?”, he asks and your eyes widen in horror. “no, thank you”, you say quickly, giving him a look and he feigns mock offense. he raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your reaction. “what? you don’t trust me?” he asks, his voice teasing and you shoot him a look. “i don’t want you to drop me”, you say and he chuckles, his hand still firm on your waist, but the sound of his laughter is deep and warm. 

“you really don’t have faith in me huh?”, he asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief, but there’s a softness in them too. “yup, zero faith in you, considering you almost dropped me on the road when you carried me on your back that day”, you tease and he rolls his eyes. “i mean, i’m not exactly the most graceful person”, you add after a moment and he hums in response. he doesn’t push you or he doesn’t try to convince you, but his gaze holds a quiet promise.

“but i’ve got you, alright?”, he says after a moment. “i promise that if i dip you, i won’t drop you, so you’re in safe hands”, he says with an encouraging smile and you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest at his words, the way he says it with such confidence, with such certainty.

“i appreciate the offer, but i think i’ll stick to just the basics for now”, you say and he nods. “alright, alright, we’ll stick to the basics,” he says, still grinning, but there’s a softness to his smile now. “but just so you know, i could dip you and make it look effortless”, he adds and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. there’s an undeniable warmth that spreads through you at the thought of him being so sure of himself, of you. 

you shrug, pretending to be unimpressed, but the flush creeping up your neck betrays you. “i’m sure you could,” you say, still a little unsure, but more than willing to believe in him now. “maybe one day”, you say and soonyoung’s smile softens at your words. he nods with a kind of understanding that makes you feel like he’s not just teaching you to dance, but he’s teaching you how to trust him. “whenever you’re ready,” he says quietly, his voice sincere. “there’s no rush, we’ll get there when we get there”, he says quietly. 

you don’t even realize how close the two of you have gotten. his hand is still warm against your waist, his fingers lightly pressing against your lower back, like he’s making sure you don’t pull away too soon. his breath fans against your cheek, and when you glance up, he’s already looking at you. your heart starts to race, but it’s not from nerves anymore —it's from something else entirely, something unfamiliar and new. your breath hitches in your throat. the intensity in his eyes makes your stomach flip. his gaze is soft, but there’s also something deeper in his look, like he’s seeing you in a way he hasn’t seen you before and your eyes glance down at his lips for a split second before you look away.

and then the moment comes crashing down on you all at once—he warmth of his hand, the pressure of his hold on your waist, the slow rise and fall of his breath against your cheek, the way his fingers press into your lower back, grounding you, holding you there close, too close, it’s suddenly all too much. your heart is racing and you suddenly feel hyper aware of every single point of contact between you both, of the way his grip is steady, sure, like he doesn’t want to let go just yet. you stop moving and soonyoung does too, his body stilling the moment he feels you freeze. his grip on you lingers for a second, his fingers squeezing softly against your waist like he’s waiting for you to say something.

“i should go,” you blurt out, the words tumbling from your lips faster than you can process them. your voice is quieter than you mean for it to be, unsteady in a way that makes your own chest tighten. “it’s…it’s late”, you say. soonyoung doesn’t respond right away and his grip on you doesn’t tighten, but it doesn’t loosen either, he just holds you there for a beat longer, like he’s hesitating, like he’s not quite ready to break the moment. his fingers flex slightly, almost like he’s trying to memorize the feeling before he has to let it go. then, slowly—finally—his hands slip away, falling to his sides.

“oh.” his voice comes out, softer now, quieter than before and you nod too quickly, taking a step back, then another. “thanks for, um, for teaching me”, you say, swallowing hard, your throat suddenly dry.

soonyoung watches you, his eyes unreadable for a moment. there’s something in his expression—something hesitant, like he wants to say something else, do something, but instead, he just offers you a small, lopsided smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“anytime,” he murmurs out, but there’s something else under his tone, something you can’t quite name. “i can drop you home”, he offers but you shake your head. “it’s fine, i got my car today”, you say and you give him one last wave before you turn around and walk out the door. you don’t turn around.

when soonyoung get’s home, it’s late and the apartment is quiet. he tosses his keys onto the counter, shrugs off his jacket, and kicks off his shoes and he walks into his room. he has a quick shower and crashes into bed. normally, this is the part of the night where he falls asleep, exhausted from the day, but tonight sleep feels impossible, because all he can think about is you.

soonyoung runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply as he lays on bed. his body is heavy with exhaustion, but his mind refuses to slow down. his fingers still remember the warmth of your waist, the way you fit so perfectly against him, and how natural it felt to hold you close. he groans, dragging a hand down his face. 

this isn’t normal, he’s not normal right now. every time he closes his eyes, he sees you—sees the way your brows furrowed when you were concentrating on getting the steps right, or the way you bit your lip when you got nervous, or the way you fit so perfectly against him like you were meant to be there.

soonyoung turns onto his back, staring at the ceiling, frustration bubbling up in his chest. he’s never been good at reading between the lines, but this felt like something. he tries to close his eyes, willing himself to sleep before groaning into the air. it’s ridiculous really, how much this is getting to him. he’s never had trouble sleeping before. and maybe, just maybe, he’s overthinking it. maybe you really did just want to go home because it was late and maybe he’s reading too much into the way your eyes flickered to his lips for that split second before you looked away. but the ache in his chest tells him otherwise.

soonyoung sighs again, flipping onto his stomach and burying his face into the pillow. this is so stupid. soonyoung doesn’t do this. he doesn’t lie awake at night thinking about slow dances and fleeting touches and what if’s, and yet, here he is. soonyoung’s chest feels tight, but not in a way that hurts. it’s just a feeling that’s… there. a strange, persistent weight that he can’t seem to shake off no matter how many times he tries to convince himself that he’s overthinking it. he’s never felt this way before, never been this restless, this frustrated over something so simple. 

but soonyoung does know this— the moment he held you in his arms, something shifted. he doesn’t know what and he doesn’t even know how to describe it, but he felt it. something about you makes everything feel different and it makes his heart race for no reason, makes his stomach twist with something unfamiliar.

sleep doesn’t come easy for soonyoung that night because every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is you.

that entire week is like a blur to you. you don’t contact soonyoung again, trying to occupy yourself in your work so that you don’t have to think about him. but you do, and  everytime you think about him you think about the way his hand felt against you, the warmth in his touch and gaze and your heart does a little flip and you’re convinced that something is wrong with you. it’s saturday evening now and the wedding is tomorrow evening, so you couldn't really avoid soonyoung any longer. you decide to text him, just to remind him that the wedding is happening tomorrow in case he had forgotten.

you [8:37 PM]: hey! just reminding you that the wedding is tomorrow evening.

soonyoung nearly jumps from his seat when he sees your notification, before he regains his composure and clears his throat. he’s quick to type out a response. 

soonyoung [8:40 PM]: yup 🫡

you [8:42 PM]: we’ll take my car so come to my place.

soonyoung [8:42 PM]: okay!

the next evening, your room is a mess, again. you finally decide on an outfit for the evening—a satin floor length dress in a soft, baby blue color. the dress is strapless, with a perfectly fitted bodice that cinches at the waist, hugging you perfectly in all the right places. the top of the dress has a subtle sweetheart neckline, offering a soft, feminine touch while maintaining an air of refinement, making it a perfect dress to wear to a wedding. there’s a small slit that runs along the side of the dress and it stops just above your knee. the hem of the dress trails just slightly on the floor. you turned toward the mirror, studying your reflection once more, running a hand through your hair. the soft waves cascade down your back and your fingers gently comb through it, giving them a little more volume and a little more definition. that’s when your doorbell rings. you freeze for a moment, a flutter of excitement rising in your chest. he’s here—soonyoung’s here.

you step toward the door, your heels clicking lightly against the floor with each step and you pause just before the door, taking another breath to steady yourself. you open it and soonyong stands in front of you, looking like he just stepped out of a dream himself. but you don’t give him time to talk, ushering him inside, saying you were almost ready and you walk back inside. he follows you and closes the door behind him before he calls out for you.

you turn around and look at him and he looks nervous for some reason. he digs into his jacket pocket and removes something—a brand new bottle of lip tint and another bottle of liquid lipstick. “i remembered how yours was over so i thought these might suit you”, he says shyly as he hands it to you. you smile at his gesture and take them both. the shades he had picked were really gorgeous and you immediately open the lipstick. soonyoung is quick to open his phone and turn on the front camera, letting you use it as a mirror, and you give him a small grateful smile as you apply the lipstick. you open the tube and apply the lipstick, using his phone a a mirror. soonyoung’s gaze lingers on your, and on your lips as he watches you apply the lipstick and his breath catches for a moment as his eyes wander over your body, taking in the sight of you, the way your lips pucker ever so lightly as you apply the lipstick and he bites his lip softly. he shakes away any irrational thoughts and clears his throat. 

“what do you think?”, you ask and he nods, like he’s happy with how it looks on you. “it looks great, it suits you really well”, he says, proud of his shade picking skills and you nod. “you’re right, i really love this shade”, you say and then you say something about getting your phone from the other room and go fetch it. it’s only when you step out of the room and glance at soonyoung that you take him in fully.

he is standing by your photo frames that are on the wall, looking at them with an inquisitive expression. he is wearing a sleek black suit that fits him perfectly. it clings perfectly to his frame and you can tell it’s been tailored with precision as it highlights the broad line of his shoulders and tapers down in clean, crisp angles. his black shirt is sleek and is a perfect match for the suit, its matte fabric contrasting the rich, glossy finish of his jacket. the silver chain he always wears is draped around his neck. his blonde hair, which is a striking shade of silver, falls in soft, tousled layers over his forehead and eyes, framing his face with a touch of wildness that contrasts his otherwise immaculate appearance. the longer strands at the back brush the collar of his jacket and his hair seems to be like a halo against the blackness of his attire.

you realise you’ve been staring too long and you shake your head, walking ahead, your heels clacking against the floor as you make your way towards soonyoung. and it’s only when you’re close by that you see the subtle makeup he’s done too. his eyes are lined softly and the faint smudge of kohl only adds to the depth to his gaze, making his already piercing stare seem impossibly intense. there’s a soft dusting of highlighter kissing the high points of his face—his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, giving his skin an ethereal glow. his lips are faintly tinted, carrying a natural flush that softens the sharpness of his features. you find yourself again lost in him until he clears his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“um, we should leave right”, you say, grabbing your handbag and stuffing your phone inside. you grab the car keys from the bowl and walk towards the door, signalling for soonyoung to head out so you could lock up. you lock the door and you both walk down towards your car when soonyoung walks over to the driver’s side. “let me drive tonight”, he says, holding out his hand for the keys.

“it’s okay, i can drive”, you say but he insists. “please, i want to, i don’t want your feet to hurt by driving in heels”, he says and you look down at your feet before glancing back up because he did have a point. 

“okay then”, you say, handing him the keys, your fingers lightly brushing against his as you drop the keys in his hand. you walk over to the passenger side, opening it and sitting down. soonyoung gets into the driver's side and he glances over at you, waiting for a moment as he looks at you, but you’re too busy digging for something in your bag to realise. so soonyong takes action and he leans forward, leaning towards you. you turn your head, confused, before you see his hand reaching out for the seatbelt and for a moment everything seems to slow down.before you can react, he's slowly pulling it across you, his arm brushing against your side as he secures the strap. the sudden closeness is unexpected, and your breath catches in your throat. he’s close and his eyes flicker up to yours as he buckles the seatbelt, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. "gotta be safe," he says, his voice warm but light, as if the moment was as ordinary as any other.

you blink, the sudden closeness making your cheeks flush. "right," you mutter out and the air between you both seems to crackle with something unspoken, something that wasn’t there before. soonyoung leans back into the seat, his eyes briefly meeting yours again before he turns the key in the ignition. the soft hum of the car engine fills the silence. the car pulls out of the driveway and soonyoung drives smoothly. there’s a subtle tension in the air between you both, but neither of you address it. soonyoung’s hands are steady on the wheel, his posture casual, but every so often, you catch him glancing at you, as if he’s trying to gauge your reaction, trying to decipher what you might be thinking.

as the car rolls up to the wedding venue, you’re pulled away from your thoughts by the sight of the grand building in front of you. the lights are bright, illuminating the entrance where guests are already gathering. soonyoung parks the car with a smooth turn, his hands steady on the wheel and you both glance at each other at the same time. 

“so...” soonyoung begins, glancing over at you, but his words trail off as he looks back at the venue. his hands stay on the wheel and he shifts in his seat. the reality of the night is here. you’re about to pretend to be a couple in front of all these people. a feeling of unease stirs in your stomach, but before you can overthink it, soonyoung speaks.

“ready?” he asks, his voice light. you nod, though there’s a small flutter of nerves that you can’t seem to quite shake off. “let’s do this”, you say and you both step out of the car, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you approach the entrance. he glances over at you again and for a moment and there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. you both walk toward the entrance, but soonyoung’s not sure what to do. his movements are slow, and he glances at you, his eyes searching for a sign—some kind of cue. should he offer his arm? should you take the lead? he almost seems out of place and you can’t help but smile at how genuine his confusion is. you both stop a few steps from the entrance, and he looks at you again, his hands shifting nervously at his sides.

“you know we’re supposed to look like a couple, right?”, you say, giving him a light teasing look. soonyoung blinks at you. “right, of course,” he says, but his voice still carries that light tone of uncertainty and suddenly, he’s nervous. there’s a moment of silence before you take a small step closer to him. you look at his hand and then back up at him. “maybe we could link arms?”, you ask and soonyoung pauses for just a moment, the question lingering in the air. his eyes flicker toward your hand, and without thinking, he offers it to you, his palm open and waiting.

there’s something so endearing about how awkward he seems, how genuinely unsure he is, despite being so confident in other areas. with a reassuring smile, you reach out and take his hand, your fingers brushing over his in a soft touch before you link your arm with his. “perfect,” you say. “now let’s go in”.

as you and soonyoung step into the venue, the soft murmur of voices fills the air, the clinking of glasses and gentle laughter of people bouncing off the walls. you walk side by side with soonyoung and the natural warmth of his hand in yours is comforting in a way. the two of you navigate through the crowd, occasionally stopping to exchange pleasantries with acquaintances you knew while soonyoung stands beside you, offering them friendly smiles. after a while the whole charade is a little more seamless now, the act of being a couple not feeling so foreign anymore. as you reach the main area where the newlyweds are standing, a few of your friends spot you from across the room.

“yn! over here”, one of them calls out and mina spots you too, smiling when she sees you. you walk towards them with a smile and you let go of soonyoung’s hand as you envelope mina in a hug, congratulating her. all your friends seem to coo over soonyoung, who offers them friendly smiles, and he congratulates mina and the groom too. 

you decide to go grab a drink and ask soonyoung if he wants one too, but he declines. you walk over to the bar counter and reach out for a glass of champagne when you hear someone call out your name. you turn around and your stomach drops at the sight of jaehyun—your ex.

“yn, hey”, he says, walking up to you and all you want to do is run away, but you don’t. “jaehyun, hi”, you say with a neutral tone. “it’s nice to see you”, he says after a moment and you only nod, because you clearly don’t reciprocate the same feeling. 

“are you here alone?”, jaehyun asks. “no, i’m here with my boyfriend”, you say as you glance over at soonyoung, who’s watching the both of you intently. you give him a small wave and soonyoung makes his way towards you. your hand instinctively wraps around his, and jaehyun glances down at where your hand is linked around soonyoung’s before he looks back up at you.

“this is my boyfriend, soonyoung”, you say. “this is jaehyun…a friend”, you say, leaving out the ex part because soonyoung didn’t need to know that right now.

you head back to the hall and the first dance commences between the bride and groom. you sit and watch with the others. mina and her husband take the center stage and dance and it’s so sweet. you smile as you look at mina and take a picture of them too, one for the books. then it ends and you can see mina calling everyone else to join. the soft melody of a love song drifts through the reception hall, wrapping around the slow moving couples already on the dance floor. you’re sitting at the edge of your seat, your fingers toying with the stem of your champagne glass, unsure if you wanted to join. your mind is busy thinking about jaehyun, and somehow, the sight of him seems to irritate you more than you thought. just at that moment, soonyoung’s shadow falls over you. “dance with me?”, he asks and you look up to see him standing in front of you. his one hand is outstretched, the other tucked casually in his pocket. his expression is easy and there’s a certain warmth in his eyes with the way he looks at you. 

“i’m not sure”, you say, trailing off, but then you glance up and see mina calling you over with a hopeful expression. she mouths a ‘please’ and you can’t seem to say no to that. “okay fine, just five minutes though”, you say standing up, puting down the glass of champagne and taking soonyoung’s hand. he holds your hand, his fingers curling around yours—warm, steady and reassuring. he gently leads you onto the dance floor and then his other hand comes up to rest on your waist, while the other holds your hand in his. you move your hands to rest on his shoulders as soonyoung slowly moves. but then you spot jaehyun at the side, looking at you and there’s something in the way he looks at you that sends your stomach twisting. you glance away, stiffening and you don’t even realise that you’ve stopped moving.

your muscles tense, and suddenly, you’re not really dancing anymore. and then you’re moving, but too fast, too rigid, completely out of rhythm with soonyoung. you step out with the wrong foot when you’re supposed to sway, rush when you’re supposed to follow and all your movements are erratic and clumsy, a stark contrast to the easy flow of the song.

soonyoung notices this instantly and his hold on your waist tightens a bit, just enough to anchor you back to him. his head tilts to the side slightly, concern flickering across his face as he watches you, his fingers brushing against your skin in a silent attempt to steady you. “hey,” he murmurs, his voice low. “what’s wrong?”, he asks and you blink up at him. you shake your head quickly. “nothing, i just—”, you trail off, the words falling flat.

soonyoung doesn’t say anything, but instead he shifts slightly, adjusting his movements as he gently guides you along with him this time. “be in the moment, breathe, listen to the music”, he says and you nod, but your body is still rigid, and soonyoung can feel it. you don’t want to admit that your mind is elsewhere, that your thoughts are tangled up in things you wish you could ignore. he can tell you’re distracted, that there’s something on your mind. but soonyoung is patient and he doesn’t press or doesn’t demand an explanation. he just watches you silently, his eyes searching yours before he speaks again.

“i’m going to dip you if you keep doing that”, he says and that makes you snap your head up to look at him. you narrow your eyes at him as you speak. “don’t you dare dip me kwon soonyoung”, you say and he chuckles at the mention of his full name.

“still don’t trust me huh”, he asks. “no”, you deadpan and he smiles softly. 

then leans in slightly, lowering his voice as he speaks. “well that’s too bad because if you keep dancing like a robot, i’m going to have to dip you, that’s the rules”, he says, making you furrow your brows.

“what rules? that’s not a thing”, you counter. “oh it is actually”, he says. “i wrote it myself and rule number one is if your dance partner is too stiff, you must dip them”, he tells proudly and you scoff. but then you notice the mischief in his eyes and the alarms start ringing in your head. “soonyoung, no, do not dip me”, you say.

“why not?”, he asks. “because!”, you lower your voice, glancing around. “we will become the center of attention at a wedding that is not ours”, you say and soonyoung blinks, and then slowly, that mischievous grin spreads across his face.

“oh, you’re right,” he repeats. “that would be so dramatic”, he says, holding your gaze as you glare at him. “exactly so no dipping”, you repeat.

“but then it would be really iconic you know”, he says, like he’s trying to convince you. “no”, you say, but a soft laugh escapes you at his antics. soonyoung smiles because that’s exactly what he wanted. his smile lingers as he watches you and he notices the way the tension in your shoulders slowly eases, the way your body starts to relax under his hold. he wanted you to relax and let go and now you’re moving much better now, there’s no rush anymore. soonyoung watches you carefully, taking in the way your breath evens out, the way your fingers rest more comfortably against his shoulders. he doesn’t say anything for a moment, just lets the dance continue, letting you find your own pace. 

“we still could, though”, he says and you blink up at him. “could what?”, you ask. “steal the show”, he says, his lips twitching into a small smirk. “one big dramatic dip and the crowd would lose their minds”, he says and you groan softly, rolling your eyes at him, and then you laugh again when you picture it in your head and that’s enough for soonyoung. he grins. mission accomplished.

“no soonyoung, we are not going to steal the show, it’s not even our wedding”, you say, the words slipping out of your mouth casually, but soonyoung’s ears perk up for some reason. 

“so…you’re saying if this was our wedding you’d let me dip you?”, he asks, looking at you intently. his tone is playful but there's an underlying hint of curiosity in it. you shrug lightly. “i mean, hypothetically, if it was our wedding, then maybe”, you say and his heart seems to almost skip a beat at your words. his usual easy grin falters for just a heartbeat, just enough for you to notice the way his breath hitches and the way his eyes flicker with something unreadable. you hold soonyoung’s gaze as they draw you in. you could kiss him you think and you gulp at the thought. 

the realization comes crashing down on you all over again, the weight of the moment making everything seem too much, too fast. you clear your throat, taking a step back, pulling yourself away from him and the intensity of his gaze. “i-i need to use the restroom,” you say quickly, suddenly needing to escape the unexpected tension. “okay,” he says softly, his hands dropping from your sides, but you can still feel the warmth of his touch. “i’ll be here when you get back”, he says and you nod before you step away from him and turn around, walking to the washroom, your heart still racing.

you stand in front of the washroom mirror and look at yourself. what was wrong with you? you could not be going around, thinking these kinds of thoughts about soonyoung. you shake your head, getting your thoughts back together before you exit the washroom. you are about to take a turn to head back to the dance floor where soonyoung is, when jaehyun comes walking through the corridor. you freeze for a second when you see him, but then continue walking, deciding to ignore him, but he stops you.

“yn”, he says and you hate it, hate the way he says your name, but you still turn around. he looks at you for a second before he speaks. “you look good tonight”, he says and you want to scoff, you want to roll your eyes but you don’t, keeping your face neutral. “thanks”, you mumble out.

“i’ve been thinking about you recently, so i’m sort of glad we bumped into each other here”, he says and you clench your jaw. you did not need to be hearing this right now. you don’t know what’s worse—the fact that he’s talking to you like nothing happened between you both, or the fact that he’s so damn casual about it, and his words feel like a punch to the gut.

“listen jaehyun, i’m not—”, you start but he cuts you off. “can we talk perhaps? would you be willing to give me another chance, i just miss you so bad”, he says and you scoff at the audacity he had to be saying that.

“you miss me?”, you repeat, and you can’t hide the disbelief in your tone. “after everything you did you think you can just waltz back into my life, tell me that you miss me, and i’ll forget all the shit you put me through?”, you ask, trying not to get upset.

outside, soonyoung waits for you like a puppy in the wedding hall, sitting on the chair looking around, hoping to see you soon. but it’s been fifteen minutes now, almost twenty and you haven’t come back yet, and he’s starting to get worried. so he gets up and makes his way to the building on the other side, hoping to find you. 

jaehyun’s expression falters for a second, but he tries to close the distance between you, stepping forward. “yn please just—”, he starts off, but before he can reach you, you take a sharp step back.

“no, i’m not doing this,” you say firmly. you turn to walk away, your body tense, but jaehyun grabs your wrist, stopping you. his grip is firm, and for a second, you freeze, caught off guard.

“yn please,” he says again, almost pleading. “jaehyun let me go”, you say, but he doesn’t. “let go”, you repeat, trying to pull your hand away. “let’s just talk yn”, he says but you don’t want anything to do with him anymore. 

“she said to let her go”, you hear a third voice— soonyoung’s as he stalks forward, grabbing jaehyun’s hand and yanking his hand off you. he looks directly at jaehyun, his gaze steady and unwavering. jaehyun huffs and walks away, leaving you and soonyoung alone in the corridor.

soonyoung’s eyes flicker briefly to you, his eyes softening with concern and he immediately notices the way your hands are trembling, how your breathing is shallow. you look up at him, and that’s when you realize your eyes are wet with tears you're trying to hold back. soonyoung’s brows furrow in worry. “hey, are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentle but firm. you blink rapidly, trying to clear your head, trying to blink back the tears.

“i'm—i'm fine,” you whisper, though the words aren’t true and soonyoung knows it, but he doesn’t press you for details. soonyoung doesn't know what comes over him, but he reaches out for your hand, intertwining his fingers in yours and giving your hand a gentle squeeze, as if he was trying to ground you back to reality. his touch is warm and you don’t want to let go.

“come on,” he says gently. “let’s go outside for a bit and get some fresh air yeah?”, he asks. you hesitate for a moment and you look at him, only to see nothing but quiet understanding in his gaze. there’s no judgment, it’s just him, waiting patiently, holding space for you. you nod slowly and soonyoung slowly leads you outside. his thumb moves in slow circles against your hand, in an unconscious attempt to soothe you as he walks with you outside to the quiet garden area behind the venue. you let go of soonyoung’s hand as you cross your arms over your chest and watch from a distance—watching everyone dancing, having fun, drinking and talking. you can hear the faint echo of the music and the faint chatter of people and the cool night air wraps around you as the sound of laughter and music fade into the background. a shiver runs through you and you rub your arms for warmth, though it does little to nothing against the cold night air. a moment later you feel something warm and soft being draped over your shoulders.

you glance down in surprise, fingers brushing over the fabric—soonyoung’s jacket. it’s oversized on you, the sleeves falling past your hands, but there’s the lingering warmth of his body heat still clinging to it. you blink up at him, and he shrugs, a small, lopsided smile playing at his lips. “this will keep you warm”, he says and you mumble out a small thanks before you look back ahead.

soonyoung doesn’t say anything right away and instead he watches you for a moment, taking in the way your shoulders are still tense, the way your jaw clenches ever so slightly, the way your breathes are just a little too controlled—like you’re trying to hold something in. soonyoung can tell that whatever happened back there was something more and you clearly didn’t want to talk about it. 

instead, he steps beside you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he tilts his head up, looking at the sky. the stars are scattered across the dark sky, shimmering faintly. “you know,” he murmurs after a moment, “this is kinda nice”, he says. you blink, glancing at him. “what is?”, you ask and he nods towards the sky. “the stars, the quiet, just being here with you”.

something about the way he says it makes your chest tighten. just being here with you. for some reason that makes your throat feel tight and you swallow, turning your gaze back to the stars. “yeah,” you murmur. “it is kinda nice”, you say before you feel the weight settle on your shoulders again. your fingers clutch onto his jacket as if you’re trying to ground yourself, but it’s not working and soonyoung notices it instantly. 

you take a step forward, not really thinking—just needing to move, but the soft grass catches onto your heel, tilting you off balance. you barely get a gasp out before you trip. but before you can even register what’s happening, a pair of strong hands grab your waist and soonyoung catches you, pulling you up against him with ease. your hands clutch onto his arms instinctively, “whoa—”, he huffs out. his voice is low, close to your ear. his grip on you doesn’t loosen, his hands staying on your waist, hot and unmoving, holding you close—closer than before—closer than you should be and your breath stutters. you’re pressed up against him, chest to chest, your noses barely a breath apart. it’s like he doesn’t even realize how close he’s holding you, how there’s barely any space left between the both of you. you can feel the heat of his skin through his shirt and the faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air between you.

your gaze flickers up to meet his and the world seems to slow down at that moment, and neither of you move. soonyoung watches you carefully, his lips parting like he wants to say something, but the words never come. his gaze drops, just for a second to your lips and your heart skips a beat. soonyoung’s eye’s flicker back up and he holds your gaze, his fingers instinctively pressing into your sides before he finally loosens his grip, but he doesn’t let go completely. he stills holds onto you, staying right where he is, holding you close. and then he speaks, his voice soft, careful, gentle. 

“do you wanna go home?”, he asks lowly and his breath is soft against your skin as he speaks. his nose brushes against yours ever so slightly as he speaks, just the faintest touch, but it’s enough to send sparks flying. you blink, surprised, because you weren’t expecting him to ask that. whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this. he’s so so close and you gulp. you can barely form any words with how close he is, with the way he’s looking at you, with the way he’s holding you. you open your mouth to speak, but soonyoung beats you to it.

“it’s okay if you do,” he adds. “we don’t have to stay if you’re not comfortable”, he whispers and you swallow hard. “maybe going home would be good”, you manage to muster out softly, feeling like you were melting under his gaze with the intensity that he was looking at you with.

he slowly loosens his grip on your waist and eases his hands, his touch lingering just for a second longer before finally pulling back completely. you exhale, stepping back slightly, your fingers brushing against his for a fleeting moment before they fall down by your sides. the cool night air rushes between you both and you look away. you don’t know why, but maybe it’s because this all feels too much—too raw, too intimate and too real. you try to distract yourself, so you smooth your hands over your dress, clearing your throat. soonyoung watches you carefully. “come on,” he finally says, his voice softer than before. “let’s get you home”.

when you reach home, you bid soonyoung goodbye, and you offer to drive him home, but he declines, saying he’d take a cab. you’re quick to peel off your heels when you enter and sigh in relief as you walk barefoot to your room. you toss your small hand bag on the bed and plop down, letting out another heavy sigh. you fall back down on the bed and you stare up at the ceiling, thinking about soonyoung. 

you can feel your heart pick up its pace at the thought of him and you groan. you think about how close he was, how his nose brushed against yours ever so slightly, and how if you had just leaned in slightly, you could have kissed him. you shake your head at the thought again and you seriously think there’s something terribly wrong with you. you could not be thinking about kissing your best friend's younger brother because that was just wrong. there’s no way you could be falling in love with soonyoung, right? somewhere along the line, you had started seeing him as a man, not just as your best friend's younger brother and the realization hits you hard, making you curse under your breath. this was just supposed to be casual, not real.

when soonyoung goes home later that night, he’s confused. he finds himself laying wide awake in bed again. his heart is racing, still, hours later, and he has no idea why. there’s a strange unfamiliar tug at his heart at the thought of you. he presses his palm flat against his chest, like that would help steady his beating heart, help him stop whatever this feeling was, but it doesn’t work. soonyoung frowns at the ceiling instead, frustrated. what the hell is wrong with him?

soonyoung doesn’t understand what’s happening to him. he doesn’t understand what he’s feeling and it’s driving him crazy. he stirs and grabs his phone, opening the browser, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a second before he types the first thing that comes to mind.

“how do you know if you’re falling in love?”

the search results load instantly and soonyoung squints at the screen as he scrolls though them. his heart thuds uncomfortably as he skims through the first few answers in the article clicked on.

you think about them all the time.

you want to be around them constantly.

your heart races when you see them.

you feel nervous and excited around them at the same time.

you find yourself drawn to small details about them 

you miss them when they’re not around.

soonyoung’s stomach flips as he reads and he swallows hard. he scrolls faster, clicking on another link, his fingers trembling slightly as he types in a new searches, hoping to find some more answers within them.

what does love feel like?

why does my chest feel weird when i think about someone?

can you fall in love by accident?

what to do when you fall for your fake date?

he exhales sharply as he reads the through the articles and all the answers and he drops his phone onto his chest, rubbing a hand over his face. soonyoung’s heart is racing and his head is spinning. his emotions are tangled into a mess he can’t begin to unravel and he’s now he’s even more confused.

and the worst part is he knows, he now knows what this is, what this feeling is. soonyoung is falling for you, hard, and that was never part of the plan.

it’s been a week since the wedding, since soonyoung held you so close, since you felt your heart race in a way you hadn’t felt in a while. you think you’re going crazy, that there’s some sort of bug that’s bitten you that’s making you think all these stupid thoughts. in all this, the one person who seems to be on your mind is jaehyun. fuck, ever since you saw him, the past, all the memories, the way he left you feeling all comes flooding back and you hate it. since it’s friday, the weekend, you decide to indulge yourself and decide to drown your sorrows down with alcohol. maybe if you drink enough, the ache in your chest will dull and all the thoughts will quiet down and you can forget—at least for a little while.

which is how you find yourself slumped at the bar, staring at the rim of your third bottle of soju. your fingers trace circles against the cool glass as you sit. the bar is dimly lit, the low hum of chatter and clinking glasses buzzing around you, but you barely register any of it. the warmth of the alcohol spreads through your veins, making everything feel just a little slower, just a little heavier. your vision blurs slightly as you fumble for your phone, unlocking it with shaky fingers and you squint at the screen, scrolling through your contacts.

you were meaning to call jihyo, you swear you were. but in your tipsy state, your finger presses on the contact just below hers instead—soonyoung's.

soonyoung is no doubt surprised when you call him, but he picks up nonetheless. “hello?”, he says, his voice filling you ear and you don’t even register that it’s not jihyo’s voice. you sit up, blinking lazily. “hi babe”, you say and there’s a beat of silence as soonyoung furrows his brows, wondering if he had actually heard you right. did you just call him babe?

“i’m at the bar we usually go to downtown,” you continue, your words slurred but carrying a familiar warmth, as if this were any normal conversation with jihyo. “and i’m so wasted right now, but i can’t stop thinking about stupid jaehyun”, you say and soonyoung sits up straighter, his fingers tightening around his phone. but you don’t even give him a chance to interrupt as you go on, the words tumbling out of you in your tipsy state.

“jihyo, wait…did i tell you what happened at the wedding?”, you ask and that’s when it clicks for him. you had meant to call jihyo, but you had called him instead. he thinks that he should probably interrupt and tell you that it’s not jihyo that you called, but he doesn’t, something stops him. maybe it’s the slight wobble in your voice, or the way you sounded so tired, but he keeps the phone to his ear, listening to you.

“it’s so stupid really, i don’t know why i’m–i’m wasting my time over him”, you slur out, the words coming out in a rush, softer, more vulnerable, and that’s when soonyoung realizes how drunk you actually are and his heart tugs with worry.

soonyoung knew which bar you were talking about because he’s gone there with jihyo and his friends before. he’s already getting up without hesitation, worried and you continue to speak. “he came up to me and—”, your voice cuts off, the call hanging up and soonyoung is confused. he pulls his phone down from his ear and calls you again, but you don’t pick up and it goes straight to voicemail. he calls again but the same thing happens and he realises your phone must have died.

“shit,” he mutters under his breath and now soonyoung is really worried. he doesn’t waste another second as he opens the door to his room, throwing on his jacket as he practically runs out the door, ignoring seungkwan yelling at him as to where he was running off to so late. his mind is racing, heart hammering in his chest as he speed runs toward the bar you mentioned. he just runs, trying to make his way to you as fast as possible. thankfully the bar was closeby, and if he ran, he could reach you in ten minutes. by the time he pulls up to the bar, his hands are trembling and his breathing is heavy from all the running. his chest is rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath. the neon sign of the bar flickers above the entrance, casting a dull glow around him and his legs move on their own as he pushes the door open and steps inside. 

his eyes scan the dimly lit room, and the dull music that plays in the background fills his ears. he moves past tables and clusters of people, his heart pounding as his eyes try to find you—and then there you are. you’re sitting at the corner by the window, slumped forward, resting your chin on your hand, your elbow resting on the table as you stare into space. your fingers lazily trace circles on the table and three empty bottles of soju sit in front of you.

soonyoung lets out a quiet sigh of relief when he sees you and his legs automatically move on their own, making his way towards you. “yn” he says, his voice urgent and worried. “are you okay?”, he asks, looking at you. you blink slowly, lifting your head to look at him, your eyes hazy and unfocused, and for a second you just stare, like your brain is trying to process the fact that he’s here—that he’s in front of you.

“soonyoung?” you murmur, blinking again. your lips curve into a lazy, tipsy smile. “oh, hey! did jihyo send you?”, you ask and he only blinks at you. he sighs again. “you’re okay,” he breathes, more to himself than anything.

his eyes sweep over you and take in the way you’re swaying slightly in your seat, the way your fingers fumble clumsily with your empty glass, the way your shoulders slump like the weight of the world is pressing down on them.

“what happened?” he asks, his voice softer now. “why didn’t you charge your phone? you scared the shit out of me”, he says and you pout slightly, looking at him, confused. “my phone died?”, you ask and soonyoung runs a hand through his hair, sighing again. “yeah, it did”, he answers.

you giggle lightly—like it’s funny—but soonyoung doesn’t laugh, because underneath the drunken haze, there’s something off about you. you’re not just tipsy, you’re sad.

soonyoung takes a seat beside you, because you were sitting at a table with two seats beside each other. he’s close but not too close, his shoulder just barely brushing against yours and he’s quiet, watching you carefully. and before you can stop yourself, the words start tumbling out. 

“it’s so stupid soonyoung”, you say, frowning.“i saw jaehyun at the wedding and it was like everything came rushing back to me, you know?”, you say, your tone carrying a hint of sadness in it. “i thought i was over him, i should be over him, but seeing him again, hearing him say he misses me like it meant something—”, your voice cracks and you let out a sharp humorless laugh. “like he didn’t leave me when i needed him the most”, you finish and exhale shakily, dropping your gaze. soonyoung doesn’t interrupt, he just listens to you.

“we dated for four years, and he just broke it off like it was nothing”, you say drily. “he broke up with me, dumped me actually, because he said i was boring, that i was no longer the same person he had fallen in love with. and it hurt, it hurt so bad. i spent so long thinking something was wrong with me, that i wasn’t enough for him. that maybe if i was more fun, if i could just change something about me, then maybe he would have still loved me, that he would have stayed”, you say, your voice shaking as you speak. 

the words hang in the air, heavy and soonyoung shifts beside you, his fingers twitching like he wants to reach for yours but isn’t sure if he should. “i just—i don’t know why i let it get to me,” you mumble, your voice quieter now. “it’s pathetic.”

“soonyoung,” you whisper his name after a moment, your voice small as you look at him, your eyes wet. “do you think i’m boring?”, you ask and his eyes widen slightly at your question, caught off guard. “what?”, he asks.

you swallow the lump in your throat, blinking rapidly, but it’s useless—the tears are already welling up and a shaky laugh escapes you. “maybe he was right, maybe i am boring”, you say and you sniff, willing yourself not to cry but it doesn’t work. your vision blurs and your shoulder shakes as a quiet sob slips out.

soonyoung’s chest tightens at the sight of you breaking down. “hey, no—” he says softly, shifting closer, his hand hesitating before he reaches for your face. he cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a tear, but another one follows immediately after and his heart clenches.

“you’re not boring,” he says, his voice firm but still gentle. “not even close”.

his hand lingers on your cheek, warm and grounding, and when you finally look at him again, his gaze is so soft, it makes your breath catch because it’s so achingly tender. soonyoung watches as more tears slip down your cheeks and he wipes them away with his thumb. “don’t cry over him, he’s not worth it”, he murmurs, his voice low.

you sniffle, swallowing down another sob and his hand tilts your face up just a little more, his thumb tracing along the curve of your cheekbone. “you are enough, more than enough,” he says, like he needs you to believe them. “and if he couldn’t see that, then that’s his problem”, he finishes. you let out a shaky breath at his words, your lip trembling as another tear slips down and soonyoung catches it before it can fall too far, this thumb caressing your cheek gently. 

you take another shaky breath as you look at soonyoung, your voice barely a whisper as you speak. "i—i think i want to go home", you say and his face softens and without another word he nods in understanding “alright,” he says gently. “let’s get you home”. 

soonyoung helps you gather your belongings and holds onto your handbag before he stands up. he offers you his hand. you take and rise to your feet, your legs are still a little shaky. soonyoung notices this and immediately moves to support you. you don’t know what it is, but being close to him feels like the most natural thing in the world right now. he leads you out, supporting you as you walk. his hand on your lower back, his steps matching yours, making sure you’re steady as you reach the bus stop.

he bus ride is quiet, the hum of the engine and the soft flicker of streetlights outside the windows the only sounds. you sit beside him, a comfortable silence stretching between you. without thinking, you shift closer to him, your body seeking the warmth and comfort he offers. his arm instinctively wraps around your shoulders as you lean into him, his presence grounding you like nothing else. the slight bump of the bus makes you instinctively grip his shirt, your fingers curling onto the fabric as if it’s the only thing holding you together. soonyoung’s body stiffens at first, but then he relaxes, his hand gently resting on your shoulder as he holds you. he doesn’t say anything—he doesn’t need to. 

you’ve fallen asleep and soonyoung gently wakes you up when your stop is near. you stir awake and blink in confusion before you realise where you are. the bus slows to a stop, and as the doors open, soonyoung's hand instinctively intertwines into yours, guiding you off the bus. you feel a little unsteady, and the alcohol making your legs feel like jelly, still tipsy, and soonyoung immediately notices, his arm going around your waist to steady you.

“i’ve got you”, he murmurs, his voice soft as he helps you step down onto the sidewalk. he’s watching you closely, his gaze gentle but full of concern. “you okay?” he asks and you nod, though you’re still a little out of it. slowly, you take a step forward, and soonyoung stays right there, just close enough that you can lean onto him if you need to. you try to keep your balance, but with each step, you feel the world spinning just a little bit more, the alcohol still clouding your senses. soonyoung is quick to catch onto this and immediately shifts, now holding onto your waist with more purpose, his grip tightening just enough to make sure you don’t lose your footing. “it’s okay, i’m right here” he says softly again, his voice close to your ear. without realizing it, you find yourself leaning into him, your body instinctively trusting the comfort he provides. soonyoung walks beside you in quiet understanding as he leads you to your house, his steady pace matching yours and you can feel him subtly adjusting his steps to ensure you’re not struggling, walking with you slowly.

as you reach the door of your building, soonyoung helps you up the stairs, his hand never leaving your side. he’s so in tune with you, watching you closely for any sign that you might stumble. with each step, he remains right there, supporting you, not letting go. when you finally reach your door, soonyoung gives you a soft smile, one that’s full of care and warmth. "you’re home," he says quietly, still holding onto you.

“thank you soonyoung”, you say, giving him a small smile and he smiles back. “call me if you need anything,” he says softly, his tone filled with unspoken understanding and you can tell that he genuinely cares. you nod again and he watches as you unlock the door and walk inside, making sure you get in safe before he leaves.

when soonyoung wakes up the next morning, he’s a mess and perhaps a little lovesick.  he can’t stop thinking about you, can’t stop thinking about the way you clung onto him, the way you seemed to so naturally fit in his life. he gulps as he sits on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his hair and thinking about how fucked he is. he was never supposed to fall for you, he was never supposed to catch feelings. he didn’t even know how it happened. this was all new to him and he was falling in love for the first time—with you.

he heads out of the room and walks to the kitchen, his footsteps heavy. he grabs a bowl and pours in some cereal and milk before he pulls out a chair and takes a seat at the dining table. soonyoung shovels the cereal in his mouth like a robot, his mind wandering, his thoughts a mess, his feelings in chaos. “did you break up or something, you look like you’re about to cry”, seungkwan cuts in, looking at the soonyoung who looked like there was a grey cloud looming over his head.

soonyoung only sighs as he shovels another spoonful of the already soggy cereal in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before he speaks. “i screwed things up”, soonyoung says. In defeat. “did you guys fight or something? you know flowers are always the answer, rose specifically”, seungkwan adds.

“no we didn’t fight….i just…fuck….this whole thing is so confusing”, soonyoung says, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. “i think i’m in love”, soonyoung finally says and seungkwan looks at him like there’s something wrong with him. “you’re making a fuss because you think you’re in love with your girlfriend? are you drunk?”, he asks, giving soonyoung a look.

“but that wasn’t part of the plan!”, soonyoung almost yells, frustrated at seungkwan, and frustrated at himself mostly. he never in his wildest dreams thought that he would find himself in this situation, and yet here he is.

“what do you mean that was never part of the plan? were you guys not exclusive or something? was this a situationship kind of thing?”, seungkwan asks, confused, having no idea that soonyoung was only fake dating.

“ugh it’s complicated man”, soonyoung says before muttering something about how he needed to get ready for work and gets up, leaving the table, leaving seungkwan even more confused. soonyoung doesn’t know what to feel, doesn’t know what to think. so he does what he thinks is the easiest thing to do—he avoids you.

you wake up that morning and last night’s events come crashing down on you. you curse under your breath but your heart also flutters at the thought of soonyoung. you shake your head, hoping to get your thoughts back in order. no, you can’t be falling for soonyoung, you just can’t. so you decide to avoid him. the week goes by fairly easily, with you managing to not bump into him anywhere thankfully. but every once in a while, you find yourself thinking about him, thinking about the warmth of his touch, the softness in his gaze, the way his eyes would turn into little crescent moons when he laughed or smiled and your heart aches—because you miss him. 

when jihyo calls you to meet up with her at a cafe to catch up, you jump at the opportunity. you push the door open to the cafe, the scent of coffee and buttery pastries welcoming you. your eyes scan the room and you spot jihyo. you walk a few more steps inside, making your way to the table and that’s when you spot soonyoung there too, and you freeze. what the fuck. why was soonyoung here too? jihyo spots you and waves over to you and you break your trance and walk ahead. soonyoung seems to finally notice you too and his eyes widen in surprise before he looks away in a hurry.

“there’s my baby girl”, jihyo says as he pulls you into a hug and you smile, hugging her back. you pull away and glance at soonyoung, giving him a small wave to acknowledge his presence and he gives you a small “hi” before looking down at his hands in his lap. you sit down opposite them. “i brought soonie along since he said he was in the area, so i invited him too, i hope you don’t mind”, jihyo asks. “it’s fine”, you say, giving her a small smile, but you were dying on the inside. 

you glance at soonyoung and you catch him already staring at you and the both of you look away at the same time. soonyoung seems too busy arranging the tissues on the table. then jihyo tells soonyoung to go fetch the order and he glady gets up. he comes back a moment later with a tray of drinks— a iced latte for jihyo, an americano for himself and a hot green tea for you. you had also ordered two pastries, a strawberry cream cake and an almond croissant for soonyoung. 

“how was the wedding by the way?” jihyo asks casually, taking a sip of her iced latte and soonyoung nearly chokes on his drink. you freeze mid bite, your grip on the spoon faltering for a second and across the table jihyo raises an eyebrow at the both of you. soonyoung desperately coughs into his sleeve, trying to regain his composure.

jihyo frowns and reaches out, thumping soonyoung firmly on the back. “jeez, slow down man, the coffee isn’t going anywhere”,  jihyo says when he stops coughing and he clears his throat. 

you quickly look down, pretending to focus on your cake, your heart hammering in your chest. you and soonyoung haven’t really talked since the wedding, or since he dropped your drunk self home—not about that moment, not about how close you were, not about the feelings that were bubbling up and slowly simmering inside. instead, you both did what mature adults do—you both ignored it, completely.

“it was fine,” you say too quickly, shoving a piece of the cake in your mouth so you don’t have to talk anymore.

“yeah, it was totally fine, just normal wedding things”, soonyoung says and you glance at him, noticing how he looks equally uncomfortable and frazzled. jihyo’s eyes the both of you suspiciously. “just fine?”, she asks as she turns to soonyoung, nudging him. “you always go on about the food at weddings, and you didn’t dance? that’s like your entire personality, you live for wedding dance floors”, jihyo says to him. soonyoung, who had just reached for his fork, panics at the question and moves too fast, knocking the fork right off the table with a loud clang. 

soonyoung looks like his entire life is flashing before his eyes and he scrambles to pick up the fork. “nothing! that was nothing! i’m just clumsy”, he says and jihyo gives him a look, as she narrows her eyes at him. “uh-huh”, she says and then she turns to you. “you’re being suspiciously quiet”, she says as she looks at you and you try to stay calm.

“i’m just eating my cake,” you say, voice a little too high pitched. “nothing weird about eating cake”, you say, shoving another spoonful of the cake in your mouth. jihyo looks between the both of you, the gears turning in her brain. “you guys are being weird”, she declares. “we’re not being weird”, you say, taking a big sip of your tea. jihyo looks at you both again before she suddenly gasps, smacking the table so hard that soonyoung flinches. 

“oh my god”, she says. “you guys hooked up at the wedding, didn’t you?”, she completes and you mid sip, nearly spit out and choke on the hot tea and soonyoung makes an unintelligible sound of horror. “WHAT?!” you yelp at the same time soonyoung practically shouts, “NO”. 

“what the fuck jihyo, we did NOT hook up oh my god”, you groan out, covering you face in embarrassment. soonyoung just looks baffled, at a loss for words. “we didn’t do anything, stop being gross”, soonyoung whines, nudging jihyo, who looks between the both of you, clearly enjoying this.

“right”, she says and decides to leave it. she’d grill out about this later. you gulp down your tea and soonyoung chugs down his americano while jihyo sits back and watches this unfold, eyeing you both, while you try to act normal. 

later that week, soonyoung is a mess—a pathetic, sulking mess. he drags his feet wherever he goes, sighing dramatically at least twenty times a day. all his friends and colleagues at the dance studio notice this of course, because how could they not? he barely reacts to any teasing and barely fights back when seungkwan steals his food, so it’s bad. in an attempt to not feel like a heartbroken puppy, soonyoung does the only thing he knows how to do—he dances. he spends more time at the dance studio, dancing it out, trying to get his mind off things, his mind off you. but he can’t because you seem to have taken over his mind and heart. he groans and collapses onto the floor, breathing hard as he tries to catch his breath from exerting himself a little too much. no matter what he does, he just can’t get you off his mind.

after that week, you end up ghosting jihyo too, only because you didn’t know how to face her. how could you admit that you were falling for her younger brother? that would just be crazy and you’d sound insane, you couldn't do that. so, like a completely mature adult, you ghost her for almost two weeks before she puts two and two together and decides to turn up at your apartment. you don’t expect to see her, so when you open the door to her, your eyes widen in surprise. 

“jihyo, hey, what are you doing here?”, you ask, stepping aside and she gives you a knowing look. “do i need a reason to see my best friend?”, she says, stepping inside and you let her, because it’s not like you can shove her out. you turn around and walk inside, asking if she wants anything to drink or eat, but she just raids your fridge and pantry like she always did, and finds a pack of chips, opening it. you pray to the gods that she doesn’t bring up soonyoung, or the fact that you’ve been ignoring her, but you know she will— because she’s jihyo.

“so, care to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”, she asks finally and you take a big gulp of water instead, hoping to buy some time while she bores her eyes into you. you let out a nervous laugh. “what do you mean? i’m not avoiding you”, you say and she raises an eyebrow at you.

“right, so you haven’t been ignoring my calls or leaving all my texts on read on purpose?”, she asks and you nod. “i’ve just been really really really busy, work picked up, we got new clients and it’s just been really hectic”, you say. but you knew jihyo and you knew that she wasn’t buying this bullshit excuse you were giving her. 

“so you hooked up with soonyoung then”, she says and your eyes widen in horror again. “JIHYO NO, oh my god”, you groan. “why do you keep thinking that”, you ask, looking at her. “because if you don’t start spilling the beans and tell me what’s going on, i’m just going to believe that you and soonyoung hooked up”, she says as she chomps down on a chip. you scoff at her and clear your throat, trying to gather your thoughts. one thing about jihyo was that she didn’t take bullshit from anyone—not even you. so you knew you had to come clean, otherwise she would quite literally haunt you about this.

“fuck”, you say under your breath looking down at the floor before you look back up. how were you even going to say this? 

“just don’t kill me”, you start off as jihyo looks at you, chomping down on another chip, waiting for you to continue. “i—i think i’m falling for soonyoung”, you finally say, the words finally out, hanging in the air between you both. you expect jihyo to gasp, to throw the bag of chips at you, to say that she wasn’t going to be your friend anymore, but she doesn’t. she only shrugs and nods. “yeah, that makes sense”, she says.

you blink at her, confused. “that’s it? that’s all you have to say about what i just confessed”, you ask and she shrugs her shoulders again.

“if you want my permission, then i approve, you guys are cute together anyway”, she says and you give her another confused look. you stare at her, utterly bewildered. “i—what—excuse me?””, you stutter out because whatever reaction you were hoping for, this wasn’t it at all.

“honestly, i already knew something was up between you guys.  the way soonyoung looks at you? the way you look at him when you think no one’s watching? soonyoung’s been acting so different lately, so anyone who knows him could tell. sso babe, this has been so obvious for weeks”, jihyo says and you jaw drops.

“and then you guys were acting so weird after i asked about the wedding”. “we were not,” you argue, but the heat creeping up your neck says otherwise and jihyo gives you another flat look. “you both nearly choked to death when i brought it up that day”, she says and you scowl. “that doesn’t mean anything”, you say and she scoffs. “oh please, anyone could tell that there’s something going on between you both”, she says and you feel heat creep up your cheeks at her words. there’s no way you both had been that obvious. 

“sooo… are you gonna do something about it?”, she asks a beat later and you look at her. “so you’d be okay if i date your brother?”, you ask and she nods. “yeah, like i said you guys are hella cute together, and soonie is like head over heels in love with you”, she casually says and your blush more. “stop it, he’s not head over heels in love with me, i don’t even know if he likes me back”, you counter but she just gives you a look.

“girl, trust me, that boy is in love”, she says, popping another chip in her mouth. “so i think you should tell him how you feel, because he’s been moping around like an idiot”, she adds and you perk up at the mention of that.

“what do you mean?”, you ask. “that stupid idiot is walking around sulking all day, acting heartbroken and it’s pissing me off. but it’s also his first time falling in love so i’m cutting him some slack, otherwise i would have knocked some sense into him long back”, she tells.

jihyo glances at the clock on the wall. “okay, i’ll take this as my cue to leave, i have to get to a meeting, but please go tell that boy how you feel before he evaporates off the face of the earth with the way he’s sulking”, she instructs, popping one last chip in her mouth and dusting her hands. she walks towards the door, slipping on her shoes. “and if you guys do hook up, please use protection”, she says and you gasp in horror, your soul nearly leaving your body.

“JIHYO!” you screech and she just cackles. “get out, get out”, you say, playfully shoving her out and she laughs. “what? i’m being serious, i’m not ready to be an aunt yet”, she adds, her eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“oh my god, shut the fuck up”, you say exasperated, but your face is burning and she laughs as she waves at you. “mhm, sure, sure, i’ll call you later”, she says before turning around and giving you a serious look. “just don’t break each other's hearts”, she says, giving you one last look before heading off.

hours later, you lay in bed thinking about what jihyo said and thinking about soonyoung. was he really moping around? there’s no way he actually liked you back that much…right? so you get up, throw on a jacket, grab your phone from the nightstand and make your way to him. the receptionist doesn’t even blink when you walk right in, seeming to recognise you and she only yells out which room number soonyoung is at. you stride forward like you’re on a mission, but as soon as you reach the door, you freeze for a moment. 

you reach for the door handle, just at the same time soonyoung pulls open the door from inside and it takes you by surprise. before you even have the time to react, a startled gasp leaves your lips and you find yourself stumbling forward—right into a solid, warm chest—right into soonyoung. you crash into him, your hands instinctively gripping his arms as you try to steady yourself, but the force of your fall sends him stumbling back a step. his hands fly to your waist, catching you before you can completely lose your balance, fingers pressing against your sides in a firm yet gentle grip.

“whoa—what the—”, soonyoung breathes out, his voice a little strained as his back hits the edge of the doorframe, but his arms stay wrapped around you, keeping you from toppling over entirely. you blink up at him and your face is just inches from his, close enough to see the way his lips part in surprise, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as his hands still hold onto you. “s-soonyoung,” you stammer out, trying to pull back, but his grip lingers for just a moment longer, as if his body reacts before his mind does. then, as if snapping out of a daze, he lets go quickly, clearing his throat. you take a step back, creating some distance between you both and your gaze flickers to the sides of the room before landing back on him, nervous.

“what are you doing here?”, he asks, thinking something might have happened with the way you practically fell on him moments ago. you blink up at him. “i—uh—came to talk to you”, you say and soonyoung blinks back at you. “you did?”, he asks, his voice soft, almost uncertain and you nod.

you take a step inside the room and soonyoung closes the door behind you. “yeah”, you say. the dance practice is room lit, the glow from the overhead lights brightening the room and polished wooden floors and mirrors. there are no chairs, just a wide open space.

“uh—sorry, there aren’t any chairs,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “but the floor’s not too bad, i sit here all the time”, he says and you can’t help but smile a little at that. “yeah, i figured”, you say. soonyoung smiles nervously and then gestures toward the corner of the room where his bag and water bottle are. “let’s sit?”, he asks and you follow him to the corner of the room. you both sit down and he sits beside you—not too close, but not too far either. the silence between you both stretches, thick with unsaid things. soonyoung fidgets with his fingers, tapping it restlessly against his knee. 

“hi”, he finally says softly, breaking the silence and looking at you, his eyes holding a tender gaze. you smile lighty. “hi”, you say, looking at him. “what did you want to talk about?”, he asks slowly after a moment, although he thinks he knows why you came. soonyoung is looking at you—uncertain, nervous, but hopeful. you hesitate, suddenly aware of how fast your heart is beating. you take a deep breath. “i…”,you start but pause and swallow, before speaking again.”i’ve been thinking about you…a lot”, you say and soonyoung stills. his fingers stop their nervous tapping on his knee and his posture straightens.

“me too”, he admits after a moment. “i… i don’t really know how to say this,” he says, letting out a small, breathy laugh. “i mean—i do know. i’ve been thinking about it for weeks, but now that you’re here, i just—i’m sorry if i messed things up between us and ruined the whole fake dating plan”, he says in a rush as he exhales sharply, shaking his head. his fingers fidget in his lap again, his knee bouncing slightly with the nervous energy around him. you open your mouth to say something but he speaks up again.

“but i think—”, he says, inhaling sharply. “i think i’m falling in love with you”, he confesses softly, the words coming out of his chest and now hanging delicately in the air between you both. he looks nervous and his eyes are filled with vulnerability and hope. the moment the words are out, he immediately looks away, his eyes flitting across the room like he’s searching for some sort of escape, his fingers tightening in his lap. he waits for you to say something, anything.

you swallow hard, feeling your heart hammering against your chest at his confession, the one he beat you to. “soonyoung” you whisper and his jaw clenches slightly with tension. “i know this probably isn’t what you expected and i understand if you don’t feel the same way. i just—” he lets out a breath, clenching his palms into fists on his lap. “i just couldn’t keep pretending, couldn't keep it in anymore”, he says and his voice is so genuine that it tugs at your heartstrings. 

“you didn’t mess anything up”, you say, and he furrows his brows slightly, like he’s not sure, like he’s not convinced. “i didn’t?”, he asks and you shake your head. 

“because i think i’m falling in love with you too”, you finally confess and his eyes widen in surprise as silence engulfs the both of you. soonyoung stares at you, blinking like he’s not sure he heard you right. “wait,” he breathes out. “you— you do?”, he asks and a small, shy laugh escapes you as you nod. “yeah, i do”, you confirm and he blinks at you again. you can see the way a slow smile starts to spread across his face before he clears his throat, trying to play it cool. he turns his head away for a second, blushing fiercely, trying to collect himself. 

“i thought i was going crazy when i thinking about you all the time, wondering if you maybe felt the same way”, he says. you smile, a hint of warmth blooming in your chest. “you weren’t going crazy”, you assure and he shakes his head. “i mean, i actually was  kind of going crazy”, he admits with a small laugh and you laugh too.

the walk home feels surreal almost, as if neither of you can quite believe what just happened. the cool night air brushes against your skin and there’s a comfortable silence in the air, peaceful almost. you both can’t seem to stop smiling—especially soonyoung. he walks beside you with hands stuffed into his pockets at first, but every few moments, he glances over at you, his face flushing whenever your eyes meet. you can’t help but notice how much more nervous he seems now that things are real. it’s sweet and endearing, and it makes your heart flutter in a way you didn’t expect.

his plucks his hands out of his pockets and they brush against yours as you walk together. you glance at him and he’s trying to keep his composure, his fingers brushing against yours again. so when you reach out and gently close your fingers around his, soonyoung’s eyes widen. he stops walking for a beat, like he’s processing the softness of your touch, the warmth of your hand in his. he looks over at you and gives you a shy smile. it feels so natural, holding his hand, and there’s something about they way they fit together so perfectly that makes your heart swell. you give him a small smile and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, like he’s trying to make sure this is actually real.

when you reach your building, neither of you immediately lets go. you stand there for a moment, the quiet hanging between you both as you just enjoying the warmth of each other’s touch, of each other’s presence. you look up at him. “thanks for walking me home,” you say softly. soonyoung’s smile is sweet. “anytime,” he says, his voice just a little hushed, like he’s holding onto this moment just as tightly as you are.

you finally pull your hand away from his and look down at the ground before you look back up at him. “i guess i’ll see you later then”, you say and he nods. “yeah, okay”, he says, stuffing his hands back in his pockets. you take a few steps backwards and lift up your hand to give him a wave. “bye”, you say and he gives you a small wave too. you walk inside your building but after a few steps you halt. you think for a moment before you turn around and jog back outside and see soonyoung walking away, his back turned to you. 

“soonyoung wait!”, you call out and he turns around immediately, confused for a second as you run up to him. you stand in front of him, and with a sudden rush of courage you lean in, going on your tip-toes and you press a soft lingering kiss to his cheek. soonyoung freezes, his eyes widening in surprise. you pull back and glance at him. “goodnight”, you whisper and take a step back, seeing the tips of his ears turning red, caught completely off guard by your action and it’s like the world seems to pause.

after what feels like an eternity, he swallows and he stammers out a response. “g-goodnight”, he says, his voice softer than usual, tinged with surprise. you give him one last shy smile before you turn, walking back to your building and before you step inside, you glance back at him one last time to find soonyong still standing there, dazed, watching you and he rubs the back of his neck nervously, like he was trying to ground himself, make sure what happened was real and you smile at how cute he is before finally slipping inside.

1 month later

the room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm, golden hue over everything in your apartment. you sit on the couch and notice soonyoung and how nervous he seemed to have suddenly gotten. he was restless for some reason and you were quick to notice it.

“you okay?”, you ask, your voice soft as you look at him. “yeah, just nervous i guess”, he says, his voice small. 

“nervous? why?”, you ask as you lean in closer to him, putting down the lego blocks with the half built flower on the table. soonyoung had gotten you one of those lego flowers to build, so you called him over to do it together. but soonyoung only shrugs at you, tearing his gaze away from you. you tilt your head, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “come on, what’s up?”, you ask as you look at him. this time, he doesn’t answer right away. his lips part as if he wants to say something, but he hesitates, his throat bobbing with an anxious swallow. when he finally looks at you, there’s something unspoken in his gaze.

“it’s stupid”, he says as you look at him, “i’m sure it’s not”, you assure.

“i…i really want to…”, he trails off, feeling the tips of his ears heat up and he looks away. “soonyoung”, you say, laughing softly at the way he was acting. 

“i just really want to kiss you but i don’t know how”, he says, almost too quickly that if you weren’t listening you wouldn't have caught it, but you hear every syllable.

for a moment, there’s silence between you both and the world narrows down to just you and him. you can see his nervous energy with the way his hands curl into his lap, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. you watch as his gaze flickers down to your lips before quickly darting away. a small smile tugs at your lips. “soonyoung,” you say softly, amused but undeniably endeared by him. you reach for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “then how about i teach you?”, you say and he blinks at you.

you slide closer to him and your legs brush against his. you slowly shift so you’re straddling him, knees on either side of his waist as you settle on his lap. he freezes, caught off guard by the closeness. you place your hands on his shoulders, your touch light and delicate. "is this okay?" you ask, softly. he swallows, his throat tight and heart racing as he nods slowly, though his voice barely comes out. "yeah, it’s okay”.

you had dated before, so you knew what this moment was supposed to feel like—gentle, unhurried. but for him, this was all new. it was his first kiss, his first real kiss, with you.

you move your hands to cup his cheek, your thumb gently brushing along his jawline, tender and light. you don’t rush, you take your time. you lean in slowly, teasingly almost, your face just inches away from his and he waits patiently. you lean in more and his eyes flutter close, waiting in anticipation. your lips brush against and his breath catches.

you press your lips to his gently, as if you were testing the waters. his body goes still, the touch of your lips so soft and warm, but different. it was new, so new. there was so much happening in his chest, an overwhelming mix of excitement and nerves and something tender. you pull away slightly, just to make sure he was okay and his eyes flutter open. “relax baby”, you mutter softly, looking at him and he nods ever so slightly.

you lean in and kiss him again, pressing your lips to his, cupping his cheeks and you can feel him relax into you a bit this time. when he doesn’t pull away, you whisper against his lips, “now part your lips just a little”, and he does, his breath shaky as he follows your instructions. you tilt your head a little, deepening the kiss ever so slightly and his hand moves instinctively to your waist, pulling you in a little closer and you can feel the warmth of his body against yours. your lips move slowly against his, but just as gentle. all that mattered in this moment was him and his first kiss with you. he kisses you back and you go slow, giving him time to adjust, letting him slowly take the lead as you let him find his own rhythm, letting him figure out what feels right. his hands rest on your waist, holding onto you and your hands move to rest on his shoulders. 

he kisses you back, clumsily at first like he was unsure, but slowly as if he was learning the movements of a dance, he becomes a little more confident. his lips follow yours and his one hand comes up to cup your cheek, pulling you into the kiss even more. your hands slide up into his hair, your fingers threading through the soft strands of his blonde hair, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss even more. the kiss grows more intense, slower now, as if neither of you wants to pull away, and his lips move with more of a certainty now, matching the rhythm of yours.

you pull back just enough to breathe, your forehead resting against his, both of your breaths coming out in soft, uneven gasps and you watch the way his chest rises and falls as he catches his breath. his lips are plump and pink and slightly swollen from the kiss, his cheeks flushed, and there’s an unmistakable glow in his eyes.

“you’re a quick learner,” you say, your voice breathless from the intensity of the kiss and he gives you a shy, almost bashful smile, biting his lip as he looks at you. 

“i didn’t expect it to be like that” he trails off, his voice a little low and rough from the kiss, but there’s an undeniable softness in the way he says it.

“you mean good?” you tease, tilting your head slightly, a playful grin forming on your lips as you look at him, your arms resting on his shoulders, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair.

“i think i want to learn more,” he murmurs and you blink at him, the words sinking in, and once they do, you can’t help but laugh softly. soonyoung’s smile grows, his eyes twinkling with both a hint of mischief and something much deeper—something warm. he leans in, kissing you again but you giggle into the kiss and he can’t help but smile against your lips, the warmth of the moment sending a flutter through you.

“kwon soonyoung”, you say his name, your lips brushing against his and he hums in response, capturing your lips in another kiss before you pull away again. you look at him, your fingertips trailing up to his jaw, your thumb lightly brushing over his cheek. he watches you with that soft, adoring gaze, but there’s something playful lurking just beneath it. you catch it and you’re about to say something, but before you can get any words out, he moves.

with a quick, almost effortless motion, he flips you over on the couch. a surprised squeal escapes you, which is quickly replaced by laughter as you land on your back with a soft bounce against the couch. soonyoung grins down at you, his hands on either side of you, his body hovering just above yours. you huff, but the warmth in your chest betrays you. “soons”, you start, looking up at him.

“yes?”, he says, his voice is teasing, his nose brushing against yours, his grin widening when you roll your eyes. his smile is so full of sunshine, of laughter, so infectious and so sincere, so full of everything bright and dizzying.

you sigh dramatically, letting your fingers trail up the back of his neck. “you have a lot learn”, you murmur and he hums, pressing another kiss to your jaw. “then teach me”, he whispers. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close and he lets out a quiet laugh, burying his face in the crook of your neck. the two of you stay like that, tangled together, his body pressed against yours. his fingers absentmindedly trace little circles on your waist as he holds you. when he lifts his head and looks at you again, there’s something softer in his gaze, something deeper.

“what?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper and a smile blooms on his face. “just thinking”, he says. 

“about what?”, you ask and his grin widens. “that i really really like you”, he says, and warmth blooms in your chest at his words. your smile softens. “good,” you whisper out. “because i really really like you too”.

and as he holds you there, you realize that there’s nowhere else you’d rather be—wrapped up in his warmth, his laugher. you think that maybe this, right here, is exactly where you’re meant to be.

END

EXTRA SCENE because i went a little insane over him

soonyoung is practically vibrating in his seat as he waits in the arrivals area to pick you up from the airport. his leg is bouncing with restless energy. three weeks. almost three whole weeks since he had last held you, kissed you and seen you. it was only supposed to be a one week trip. and that one week he would have survived. but there were delays and complications in the project you said—and one week turned into three.

he spots you walking out of the terminal, dragging your suitcase behind you, exhaustion evident in the way your shoulders are slumped, your eyes tired. he’s on his feet in an instant and he comes up to you. you don’t even get a chance to get a word out before his arms are wrapping around you, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. "you’re finally back," he murmurs into your neck. you let out a soft laugh against his shoulder. "i’m back”, you say as you hug him back.

soonyoung pulls back just enough to cup your face, eyes scanning every inch of you as if making sure you were real. "three weeks baby, you almost killed me”, he says dramatically.

"sorry," you tease, smiling softly as your fingers brushed through his hair. "i barely survived without you," he mutters before grabbing your suitcase with one hand and lacing his fingers through yours with the other, pulling you toward the exit. the ride home is filled with him sneaking glances at you every five seconds, his hand still intertwined in yours, a soft grin playing on his lips whenever he catches you watching him back.

when he finally pulls into the driveway, he barely lets you step inside before his hands are on you again, like he couldn't bear to stay apart from you any longer. you enter your apartment and soonyoung trails behind you as he carries you suitcase, placing it to the side and you walk to the kitchen to get a glass of water, incredibly thirsty from the flight. 

“god, it’s good to be back”, you say as you chug down a glass of water and put it down on the counter. soonyoung stalks forward, his gaze sharp. “i got you something by the way, it’s in the suitcase and—”, you’re cut off by the way soonyoung walks forward, cupping your cheeks before his lips are on yours. your back hits the wall as he walks you backwards and pins you there, kissing you urgently, hungrily. his hands grip your waist, pressing you into the wall as if he is trying to make up for every second you’d been apart. you gasp softly into his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer and his lips move against yours with desperation.

"soonyoung—" you try to speak between kisses, but he only hums in response, lips trailing down your jaw to the curve of your neck.

"missed you so fucking much," he whispers against your skin, his voice low with need. "i’m never letting you leave for that long again," he murmurs against your lips. his hands tighten around your waist and your bag slips from your shoulder, forgotten on the floor as he captures your lips in another dizzying kiss. his hands slide under your shirt, his fingers splaying across your bare skin, warm and possessive. he grabs your waist, lifting you up effortlessly as your legs wrap around his torso. his lips move down to your jaw, finding that sensitive spot beneath your ear and you let out a soft gasp.

“fuck”, you whimper out softly as he moves, his grip firm as he walks the two of you toward the couch. the world tilts slightly as he sits down, settling you onto his lap, your legs straddling him now, your knees resting on the soft cushion. his hands find your waist again, his thumbs tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin, and when he looks at you, his gaze is dark. 

you smirk, tilting your head as your fingers comb through his hair. "what happened to the boy who was absolutely clueless about dating?", you tease, letting your hands slip under his hoodie. your fingers skim over his abs and torso, slow and deliberate, feeling the way his breath stutters at the contact. soonyoung groans softly, his grip on your waist tightening as his body melts into your touch, his head tilting back slightly as he recovers from the sensation. 

“i’m a quick learner”, he says after a moment, a small smirk playing on his lips and you chuckle before you lean in. “oh? is that so?" you murmur, your lips brushing against his but not kissing him yet. his lips chase yours, closing the distance as he kisses you again, slower this time—deeper. the way he kisses you is intoxicating—slow but full of purpose, like he’s savoring every second. your fingers tangle in his hair and his hands roam over your body, sliding up your back, down to your hips, squeezing your waist as he pulls you closer until there isn’t any space between the both of you and the warmth of his body seeps into you. 

he pulls away, his breath heavy as his chest rises and falls, his gaze locked onto you as he tilts his head back on the couch. soonyoung looks absolutely wrecked. his lips are pink, swollen, kiss bruised and slightly parted as he catches his breath. his usually sharp features are slightly softened by the dazed expression he wears, his pupils blown wide, his hair messy from where your fingers had tugged at it. his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, as if he’s debating if he can survive another kiss or if it might just be the end of him. 

then a slowly, a lazy, lopsided grin tugs at his lips—the kind of smirk that’s cocky, but still soft. "besides”, he says, voice low, "you’re the one who taught me everything”.

you chuckle at his words and your fingers ghost over his jaw before you brush your thumb over his bottom lip. “i guess i’m a pretty good teacher then”, you say softly, tilting your head as you watch him and soonyoung huffs out a soft laugh, but his eyes never leave yours.

his hands tightens around your waist, like he’s deciding something, and he leans in again slowly, his lips ghosting over yours as he speaks. “the best”, he whispers against your lips, before kissing you breathless again.

taglist: @joshuaahong @paindivinemp3 @itsveronicaxxx @frankenstein852 @weird-bookworm @mirxzii @naaaaafla @gyubakeries @wheeboo @fxstpace @ylangelegy @lvlystars @kyeomyun @icyminghao @ihrtboo @n4mj00nvq @imujings @alsktudy @d-i-y-a-n-a @binnielovie @fancypeacepersona @karynnonna @alyssa19123456 @diamonddaze01 @minhui896 @yoozuku @hyunyin @blue-jisungs @lockburn-castle

[bywons]

LET ME BE YOUR HERO ★ spiderman!enha

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬────𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖬𝖩

❪ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝒾𝐒 ❫ ｡ 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 1400wc 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗎 ──𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 贅沢 ／ 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐄

★REBLOGPLEASE

LEE HEESEUNG

“hey baby,” heeseung’s voice startles you, causing you to almost fall out of your study desk. you whip your head towards the balcony, to see your boyfriend hanging upside down by his spiderwebs.

“what are you doing here?” you hiss, striding towards the balcony. you pull his spider mask down, revealing his charming face which always gave you butterflies. “god forbid a man wants to visit his girl,” he grins lazily, winking at you when he knows this is an ungodly hour to visit you.

his cover could be blown. “my parents are literally in the next room, hee. can you please get out—” “just a kiss,” heeseung pleads, tilting his head with that mischievous smile of his, still dangling upside down like it’s the most casual thing in the world, “just a kiss and i’ll go.”

and you eventually give in, rolling your eyes as you cup his face and lean in for a kiss. heeseung smiles into the kiss, his lips soft and tender against yours, moving in sync as your teeth graze against his top lip. his breath hitches, falling to the threshold of the balcony with a thud.

“are you okay? you’re gonna wake up my parents,” you whimper, looking down at him. but heeseung only chuckles, looking up at you, “sorry, babe. i get nervous around you.”

PARK JONGSEONG

you became famous overnight all around your college when your face hit the news headline— “college girl saved from local monsters by the city's superhero, spiderman.”

“so, how was the experience?” you get startled by the sudden voice beside you, almost dropping the books in your hand. shutting your locker close, you meet the eyes of park jongseong aka jay— leaning against his own locker, wearing one of those oversized hoodies with a cocky grin.

“nothing special,” you shrug, leaning against your locker too as you scoff, “not big of a fan.” “really?” jay scoffs, inching closer until he towers above you easily. his dark hair locks fall gently over his forehead, making your mouth gape.

“you say spiderman is not all that,” he angles his head sideways, cupping your face between his hands— leaning in just enough for his hot breath to fan over your face, “then why were you so clingy to him last night? you sure didn't want to let go, doll.”

you could feel blood rush up to your face, making it flush before jay. you chuckle, whispering, “but how did you know that?” just like that, jay realises he messed up, his spider-suit peeking under his hoodie.

SIM JAEYUN

“—and the correct option is c,” jake pushes his thick rimmed glasses up his nose bridge, “did you get it?”

“yeah, i got it,” you sigh, your attention nowhere but your boyfriend, who’s neck is still damp from swinging around the city, saving people.

“does spiderman help other girls with their homework too?” you sigh, cocking your head to one side. “no?” jake is caught off guard, his eyes widened as he pulls you on his lap, “only you, i promise.”

before you can stop yourself, you grab the collar of his hoodie and pull him in. jakes eyes widen behind his glasses, but he soon eases into the kiss, one hand cups your cheeks as he leans into you. your stomach flips as he giggles into the kiss, caressing your cheeks.

you back just a little, your forehead pressed to his. “does he kiss other girls too?”

jake laughs, his glasses fogged, “only if she’s you.”

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon quickly pulls you into the janitors closet, banging it shut as he pushes you against the wall. “shut up,” he pleads, all sweaty and out of breathe in his spider-suit, “please just everybody can hear you—”

“i wasn’t even going to say anything,” you lie, gripping onto his biceps as they brace next to your head, bodies too close to each other in the cramped place, “why did you think revealing yourself as spiderman to me was okay?”

sunghoon sighs, he knew that changing into civilian clothes right before college was risky. and of course, out of all people, you happened to see him in the hallways. “just—promise me,” he huffs, leaning in to see your face better in the dark, “you won’t tell anyone, alright?”

“and why do you think i wouldn’t?” you smirk, eyes glinting with mischief as they meet sunghoon’s confused ones.

“seriously?” he hisses, his patience running thin as he grits his teeth, “y/n you better—” “park sunghoon is spi—!”

he doesn’t let you finish the sentence, he leans forward and slams his lips on yours, pulling you into a hurried, angry yet a soft and delicate kiss. he cradles your head with his hand, the other sliding down to your waist. “shut up,” he breathes as he pulls away, chuckling at your flushed face which he loves.

KIM SUNOO

as you’re about to circle around the block towards the alleys to reach your apartment, a fwip sound interrupts you— and suddenly you’re being held up in the air by your waist.

“what the— sunoo?” you almost scream as sunoo only laughs, swinging you onto a building’s rooftop like it’s nothing.

“you almost screamed,” sunoo laughs, pulling up his mask just up to his nose, “you’re so cute.”

“you almost gave me a heart attack,” you complain, smacking his arm playfully as he laughs. “i missed you,” he says, slowly pulling you closer on the rooftop, slow and cool wind caressing you both, “it’s so hard to not see you all the time.”

you giggle in his arms, and sunoo pushes a strand of your hair behind your ears, “can i kiss you?”

“you don’t have to ask,” you finally give him his much needed permission, and sunoo leans in for a kiss amidst the busy night life he secretly watches over.

YANG JUNGWON

you quickly shut the door to your room behind you, facing your boyfriend who’s busy changing into civilian clothes.

“look away!” jungwon blushes as his eyes meet yours. he’s halfway through a plain white shirt, his abdomen exposed.

“what did i tell you about barging into my family gatherings?” you almost shout, slapping jungwon's forearm. “ouch,” jungwon whispers, “but did you see your messages? you told me to save you—”

“not when i said my whole family is here!” you sigh, plopping down flat on your bed and jungwon quickly wears his shirt. before you can say anything, jungwon hovers above you, pressing soft pecks on your lips and neck.

“i need to make sure you're alright,” he smiles in the most gentle way which makes your heart melt, and pull him closer by his collar. “i love you,” he whispers against your lips, kissing it slow.

“i love you more,” you chuckle. “no, i do!” he protests, pulling back to see your face. “no jungwon, you know that i love you more—”

“is somebody there?” a familiar voice floats in from outside your door, probably a relative. “i saw someone in there.” jungwon's face cringes as he looks at your furious one.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki winces as you press a feathery kiss just above the bruise blooming on his cheek. “does it hurt?” you ask.

“not when you're kissing them,” riki teases, pulling you closer on his lap as he wraps his arms around you, “i want you to kiss all my bruises—”

“i told you not to mess with them,” you complain, an irritated pout forming on your face as you caress riki’s cheek. “you’re spiderman, not a fighter, they are stronger than you.”

“you hurt me more, doll,” riki leans into your touch, smirking as he mumbles, “i still took all of them down though.”

“that's not the point riki,” you sigh, retracting your hand from his cheek, at which he winces again, “i don't want you to get hurt all the time.” riki sighs into your palm, using both of them to cup his own face, “you’re so hot when you’re angry,” he snorts, biting his lip.

“can you please stop—” riki doesn't waste a second listening to your lectures as he pulls you in by your wrist, lips clashing into a heated kiss, which slows down eventually. you pull back first, an unsure and strict expression on your face.

“if it means getting hurt everyday because of you,” riki kisses your wrist, “then so be it.”

스루 ܃ for @flwrstqr ! love ya so much, mwah 💌

© bywons, 2025 div ctto —taglist open ! nets. @/k-labels @kflixnet @k-films