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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 26 days

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Wingwoman (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: You take your good friend/coworker, Spencer, out to the bar to find him a girl to hook up with. Things do not go as planned.

Word Count: 5107

Warnings: Romantic/sexual tension! Mentions of drinking / sex

A/N: Hi! I haven't written posted fanfic in like, 8 years, please be nice xD I would love to know your thoughts - if you have any requests or anything, I'm happy to oblige. ALSO -- I have only seen up to Season 7 of Criminal Minds because I'm a fckn loser. Anywayyyyy enjoy! Not my gif btw, all credit to the owner :)

———————————

It was kind of your fault, now that you were thinking back on it.

Actually, it was definitely your fault, now that you were thinking back on it.

It had been your suggestion to go out. It had been your idea to act as Spencer’s wingwoman, some last-ditch effort to try to get him out of your mind. He was your coworker, for Christ’s sake. And your best friend. And you’d thought about him desperately for eight of the nine months that you’d known him.

Emily, Derek, and Penelope had all agreed to tag along, but as the work day went on, each of your coworkers had found some kind of excuse to opt-out. Derek’s niece wanted to Facetime. Penelope forgot Kevin’s birthday was next week and needed to go shopping for a present. Emily had a headache.

Finding Spencer a romantic prospect on your own was certainly not the plan, but, stupidly, thoughtlessly, you’d decided to go along with it. You could do this. Just one night in a bar, chatting up women for the man you’d slowly been falling for the past eight months. As good of an idea as any, right?

You and Spencer took an Uber to the bar the group frequented. Ski-ball and pool in one corner, a vintage jukebox and small space set aside as a makeshift dance floor in the other. But the best part - half-off drinks for federal agents. You’d never been one to abuse the badge before, but…

Three Jack-and-Diet-Cokes later, your moral code had a bit of a crack in it.

Spencer stood next to you - towered over you, actually, because that man was a fucking beanpole - and you felt his eyes on you as you scanned the crowd. “What about her?” you suggested, jerking your chin to the woman at a high-top table against the wall. She had her nose stuck in her phone and an untouched martini on the table in front of her.

“She’s clearly waiting for someone,” Spencer pointed out, and you realized he was right just as the woman looked up from her phone and towards the door for the third time in the past minute. “I also don’t understand why you’re so dead set on finding someone to hog me up with.”

You snorted into your drink. “Hog you up with?” you repeated, turning in your barstool so you faced him. Your knees brushed his thighs.

“Yeah, is that not…” realization dawned on Spencer and he grimaced. “That’s not the phrase, is it?”

“Hook,” you corrected, but not impatiently. You made a little hook with your index finger, like a pirate. A little giggle escaped you. “And I’m not dead set on it,” you argued. “I just didn’t want to be the only one leaving the bar with someone.”

Your eyes flickered up to Spencer’s to gauge his reaction. He seemed surprised by this implication that you planned to leave with someone - someone who was not him.

“Yeah? Who are you leaving with, matey?” Spencer countered, arching a brow and pointedly looking at your index finger, still in its hooked position. You dropped your hand.

“It doesn’t matter right now,” you blushed furiously, desperately trying to drive the conversation back to his romantic conquests. Your thought process was that if you actually saw Spencer with someone else in any sort of romantic capacity - dancing, flirting, kissing - you’d finally hurt yourself enough with the sight for those stupid feelings for him to dissipate. “We’re looking for you.”

Spencer merely hmm-ed in response, an indecisive non-answer, and you noticed he shook his head. Like he was annoyed, but trying not to show it. You swallowed the lump in your throat and polished off your drink before returning to examining the patrons in the bar. You nudged Spencer’s elbow with your own and your gaze landed on the group of three women giggling around one of the tables. “Any of them? The blonde is cute,” you pointed out.

“Not really into blondes,” Spencer muttered, and you glanced back at him. You could have sworn his eyes were locked on your brunette hair. You opened your mouth to say something, but Spencer cut you off. “But, sure, if watching me strike out will amuse you, Y/N.” Before you could protest, Spencer set his glass down on the bar and started towards the trio of women at the table.

You leaned down to sniff his glass, curious as to what he’d been drinking. Clear liquid. No smell. Was he… totally sober?

You watched with narrowed, studious eyes as Spencer approached the women. You could only see the back of his head, but the three women’s faces were perfectly visible. They smiled, friendly, unassuming, and then something came out of Spencer’s mouth that changed their expressions. The blonde in the middle furrowed her brows, and the two women on either side cocked their heads slightly. Spencer’s hand tapped the table and he earned awkward smiles as a goodbye was bid, and when he turned around to head back towards the bar, he just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, like what are you gonna do?

“What happened?” you asked as he returned to you.

“I blew it,” Spencer said matter-of-factly. Too accepting of his defeat. Further supporting your theory that he’d gone over there and purposefully botched it.

“Right,” you flagged down the bartender to order another drink.

“You’re getting another one?” Spencer asked.

You whirled your face to meet his and didn’t see judgment, but rather, concern. “Why does it matter?” you asked, no, dared.

Spencer shook his head, defeatedly. “It doesn’t,” he grumbled.

“What about that girl you were talking to earlier by the jukebox?” you asked, nudging his shin with your foot. “The grabby one. She seemed really into you.”

Spencer visibly gritted his teeth. “I’m not interested.”

“Are you interested in anyone in this bar tonight?” You asked. The words came too quickly for you to stop them. They were too real. Especially as Spencer’s frown hardened just slightly and you watched him look away from you.

You took in a sharp inhale, the realization hitting you, the possibility that Spencer might actually feel the same way about you. And that you’d dragged him out here tonight to try and set him up with someone else. You were selfish and thoughtless and stupid.

You hopped off the barstool, your feet wavering beneath you. “I’d better go home,” you said suddenly, grabbing your bag. You had to leave. You had to go home before you said something stupid, something irreversible.

You stalked out of the bar and onto the brisk, late-autumn sidewalk. You’d forgotten your coat at the office and insisted you’d be fine. The chill smacked you in the face and you tucked your bag beneath your shoulder so you could cross your arms over your chest and hug yourself for any semblance of warmth.

Thirty seconds hadn’t even passed before the door creaked and Spencer appeared at your side, throwing his coat wordlessly over your shoulders. “What did I do?” he asked. You looked up at him and saw his eyes - hurt, frustrated, confused.

Your lips parted and there was a small shake of your head. “No,” you breathed. He furrowed his brows and you explained further. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why the hell have you been so weird around me lately?” Spencer asked, scuffing his shoe against the sidewalk. Like a temperamental first-grader.

“Weird how?” You asked, trying to pretend like you had no idea what he was talking about. Like your stomach didn’t flip every morning when you saw him.

“Like you’re… like you’re mad at me. Like you don’t want to be around me,” Spencer looked at the street ahead of the both of you rather than at you. “You always find an excuse to leave the room when it’s just the two of us. You pull Derek or Emily or Penelope into the conversation so you don’t have to interact with just me. You’re out here trying to find me someone to hook up with?” he phrased the last sentence as a question, shaking his head. Your heart lurched. He let out an incredulous laugh. “It’s either you’re trying to shrug me off as a friend entirely, or -”

He stopped himself. His eyes were fixed on the streetlamp a few feet in front of you. They widened and you felt your heart pound as he slowly met your gaze. The realization hit him, the second half of his sentence lingering, heavy and palpable between the two of you.

“Or,” you repeated, not phrasing it as a question. Your voice was soft as you said it, your tone anything but a question.

“Or?” Spencer asked, and you could see his chest start to rise and fall more slowly.

“Or,” you confirmed, taking in a sharp breath.

Spencer’s throat bobbed as he looked at you, his gaze piercing and soft, studious and lazy, hungry and satiated all at once. “Oh.”

Oh.

“How long?” he asked, turning his feet towards you.

Your face went red and you lifted your chin, refusing to make yourself feel ashamed of it anymore. There wasn’t any point, not when he knew now. “Since March,” you admitted. Your voice was squeaky.

“March?” Spencer repeated, incredulous. It was early October now.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, shrugging his jacket off your shoulders and bunching it up by the middle. You handed it to him. “You don’t have to say anything,” you said. Your body felt like it was on fire. “You don’t have to-”

“I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.”

You thought maybe you were hallucinating for a second. Your mouth fell open and despite your three drinks, you remembered clearly that Spencer had been drinking water. This was not some drunken confession, not for either of you, because the second he’d asked you why you had been so weird lately, you had instantly sobered up. “Oh,” was all you managed to choke out.

Oh.

“Yeah, oh,” Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smile. That playful, friendly, teasing little smile you’d learned to love on him. He stepped towards you.

You let out this little half-garbled laugh. Spencer reached for your hand, and you let him. Your fingers spread, allowing his in the spaces between. You looked up at Spencer and little fires shot up your hand. How could merely holding hands feel so monumental?

“What do we… what do we do now?” You asked, your mind in a haze, like a computer awaiting command.

Spencer let his jacket fall to the concrete and used his other hand to slowly, almost hesitantly, cup your cheek. He looked down at you and your entire face reddened. “Well,” his voice was soft, crackling, like a fireplace, and he met your gaze with searching eyes. “I’d like to kiss you now, if that would be okay,” he said finally. Your lips turned up into an idiotic smile.

“I think that would be okay,” you whispered.

His hands were so soft, you realized. His grip on your hand loosened and he was now cupping your face on both sides. And every nerve in your cheeks was firing off signals - Spencer is touching my face, Spencer is touching my face. Like it was some forbidden thing. But then, as if in slow motion, he ducked his head down and his lips touched yours. Gently, at first, tentative and wobbly like a foal taking its first steps. Your hands rested on his torso - taut beneath that stupid little sweater vest.

He pulled back after just a moment. It was really only five or six seconds at the most, but you were red-faced and breathless by the time your eyes fluttered open, into his. Spencer’s smile was now a full-blown grin, and your expression mirrored his. “Yeah?” He asked, the word carrying more meaning. You’re into this, right?

“Yeah,” you exhaled as Spencer dropped his hands from your face, but your hands remained on his torso, not wanting to step away just yet. The syllable meant more coming from you, too. I’m really, very much, super into this. Please, for the love of god, kiss me again.

Spencer arched a brow ever so slightly, and you nodded your head.

Just like a dance, Spencer’s hands moved to your waist, and at the same time, you slid yours around his neck. He backed you up, completely disregarding his jacket on the sidewalk, until you were flush against the brick wall belonging to the bar. The brisk October breeze ruffled through his hair and yours, yet, suddenly, neither of you were terribly concerned about the weather.

He kissed you again, and this time it wasn’t as timid. Slowly, at first, his lips pressed against yours, and then his tongue darted out. It teased your lips in silent invitation, and you opened them to grant him access. His hands were everywhere, your hips, your hair, your face. You had moved your own down to his torso again. He coaxed the tiniest little mewl out of your throat, a completely uncontrollable and inevitable noise.

Spencer’s low, gravelly groan reverberated through your mouth. Your hands gripped the bottom half of his shirt, balling it up in tight, white-knuckled fists. An unmistakable hardness brushed against your thigh. You were perfectly content to stay right there, pinned against the exterior wall of a D.C. bar, but the sound of a car honking its horn peeled Spencer off of you.

His face was flushed and you released his shirt from your grasp. He let out a small grunt, stepping away from you to grab his jacket off the ground, wrinkling it haphazardly in his hand, holding it strategically over his middle.

Oh, he liked you a lot.

“You okay, Spence?” You asked all-knowingly, cocking your head to the side, leaning against the wall, lifting a foot to plant against it.

Spencer shot a set of narrowed eyes at you, as if noting your smirk and storing it for later. “Yeah, I’m great,” he said, obviously struggling a little bit. His eyes quickly left yours and looked everywhere but at you.

You didn’t want to embarrass him too much. So you just crossed your arms over your chest and looked at the sidewalk. But the smirk on your face wasn’t going away quite so easily. You considered briefly trying to talk to him about baseball or something to try and help him out, but you decided pointing it out would just humiliate him. Plus, it was a nice little ego boost, knowing you could get him like that with just a simple touch.

He took a second, but he finally cleared his throat and met your gaze. You sucked your front teeth with your tongue and then bit your lip. “Want me to call an Uber?” You asked.

Spencer just nodded, and you pushed yourself off the wall, stepping over to join him, digging your phone out of your pocket to order the car. “You okay?” You asked him again after submitting the request on your phone. Spencer’s face was still flushed, but he just nodded and reached for your hand. “Careful,” you warned, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him. “Don’t want you having an-“

“Shut up,” Spencer cut you off, and you snickered.

——————————————————

You had never been in Spencer’s apartment before. It was unmistakably his, with stacks upon stacks of books in lieu of furniture.

There was a sofa in his living room, along with a coffee table, a couple of lamps, and a television on a stand. The remaining space, besides a few spots here and there and a clear path with which to maneuver the room, was filled with books.

You had never seen so many books in someone’s possession before. And sure, you were an avid reader yourself. But nothing like this. Your heart fluttered at the sight, not only because books simply just made you happy, but because it was an incredibly endearing detail about Spencer. Your Spencer.

He shut and locked the door after you stepped inside, looking around with a childlike, awestruck grin. The TV had a thin layer of dust over the screen - he clearly didn’t use it often. And as you trailed a finger along the top of the nearest stack of books, you felt a pair of eyes watching your every move.

You and Spencer had both been quiet in the Uber ride here. He had simply held your hand, swiping his thumb across the back of your palm every few seconds. You would occasionally meet his gaze, but then quickly, bashfully, look away, like the two of you were teenagers.

It was so strange to think of what he had said to you - I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met. How had you not figured it out before now?

You supposed you had been hiding your true feelings as well, so he was allowed to, too.

There wasn’t any point in wishing to change the past, you reminded yourself. All you should be focusing on is right now.

And right now, the street lamps peeked in through Spencer’s living room window, glinting off of his endless brown eyes and making them look like he had the moon in his irises.

“So,” you said softly, not nearly as wicked as you had been when you were teasing him on the street by the bar. “This is where you live.”

“Uh-huh,” Spencer bobbed his head, that awkward, straight-line smile crossing his face.

“Lot of books,” you pointed out.

“Yep.”

You arched a brow, a teasing smile crossing your face once again. “What’s with the monosyllabic conversation?”

Spencer clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. “It’s just… really difficult to just stand here and not touch you,” he admitted, a sheepish smile crossing his face.

You grinned. “You can touch me,” your voice dropped an octave, without you even really thinking about it.

Spencer licked a canine with the tip of his tongue. God, that tongue. You remembered how he’d teased you less than an hour ago outside of the bar. “Maybe I will,” he shrugged, and you rolled your eyes.

“You can’t really play it cool, right now, Spencer. Not when I just gave you a-“

“Please stop talking,” Spencer laughed, crossing the room and cupping your cheeks in his hands all in the same movement. You snickered and he kissed you and anything you might have been wanting to make fun of him for was forgotten about.

You pressed your hands against his chest - holy pectorals, Batman - and craned your neck up so you could reach him. Spencer slid his own hands down your arms and to your hips, and you looped your arms around his neck. One palm flattened against the back of his head, holding him in place, fingers curling around pieces of his soft hair.

Your heart was hammering away, and there was this aching, hot feeling that was pooling in your core and you all of a sudden felt hungry. Starving for Spencer, for every piece of him, for fully and finally crossing that line from friend to lover. An insatiable hunger for nearly every moment since you’d known him.

Finally you broke away from him, simply because oxygen was a necessity, and he rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes were still closed and your fingers ground into his scalp. “Look at me,” he requested, his voice low.

Your eyes opened obediently and one of Spencer Reid’s hands curled under your chin. His face moved away from yours but his gaze was locked on yours, a pinpoint, a Northern Star.

And when Spencer spoke again, your knees buckled.

“I want you.”

Your mouth fell open, ever so slightly, and you nodded. “I want you, too,” you whispered.

“Are you still…?” He asked, his eyes searching yours. You’d had three drinks earlier that evening, after all, but you’d polished the last one off nearly an hour ago. Maybe not fully sober, but sober enough to know what you wanted.

“I’m fine,” you assured him.

Spencer inclined his head to the side. “You’re sure? Can you pass a sobriety test?”

You narrowed your eyes at him before you realized he was being sarcastic. You stepped back from him, shrugging off his hands, and extended your arms, touching your nose with your left hand, then your right. Spencer just laughed, and reached out for you, tugging you back to him. “Okay,” he chuckled, planting a kiss on your neck. You let him. “You’re fine, then?”

“I’m fine,” you agreed, shrugging him out of his sweater vest, and then reaching for the buttons on his shirt underneath.

Spencer kissed your neck as you fumbled with the buttons - how were buttons suddenly impossible to undo? Your head craned back just slightly on instinct, wanting - needing - to allow Spencer more access. Your dexterity had become abysmal at this point, and Spencer’s lips were kissing your neck, down your throat, teasing at your collarbone. “Spencer,” you managed to groan out, a wave of annoyance present in your tone.

“What?” he asked, pulling back, concern filling his face.

You realized you had actually worried him. “Oh, no, no,” you waved it away, and he visibly relaxed. “I’m just really frustrated, because… because your shirt,” you stammered, and Spencer’s mouth twitched up into a smirk.

“My shirt,” he stated.

“That one, right here,” You laughed softly, curling your fingers around the buttons. You managed to wiggle one free, then another. Spencer leaned forward to continue kissing your neck, but you held a hand up to stop him. “Hang on,” you murmured, working through another button, and one more. “I’m concentrating.”

“You’re sticking your tongue out,” Spencer snickered. Your eyes met his and your cheeks flushed.

“I’m concentrating!” Your voice rose slightly in self-defense. Spencer’s hands went to your hips.

“It’s adorable,” he told you. “You make the same face at work. When you’re in the middle of filling out a form or trying to open a new bottle of coffee creamer without spilling it,” Spencer rubbed circles in your hips and your fingers stopped working again.

“You noticed that kind of stuff?” You asked softly, looking up at him with doe eyes.

Spencer just nodded. “All the time.”

I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met.

You inhaled sharply, finally undoing the last button.The skin beneath the shirt was pale, smooth, and perfect. And when he slid his arms through the sleeves and the shirt fell to the ground, you bit your lip, unable to help it.

“Y/N?”

You met Spencer’s gaze and let out this awkward little laugh. Embarrassing, really, if you hadn’t been in the company of your best friend. “You okay?” he asked, and you felt a little giddy as you nodded, moving your hands to his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him again.

You didn’t know which direction the bedroom was in, so you just took a guess, pushing him back towards one of the doors. He kept his hands on your hips and his lips pressed against yours as he guided you, walking backwards, to the right door. You entered the bedroom and could not possibly be bothered to look around right now, not when Spencer was guiding you in a circle by merely touching your hips, not when the back of your knees hit what was unmistakably a mattress, not when you fell back against it.

Your eyes were shut, unwilling to take in your surroundings as Spencer guided you onto your back. You toed off your shoes before lifting your legs, and Spencer hovered over you. Your lips were locked with his the entire time. And when you finally opened your eyes and you saw only Spencer, you grinned like a fool.

Spencer’s fingers were like taking a shower. They were all over you - your hips, first, then your stomach, and you had to resist the urge to giggle because they tickled as he teased the bottom hem of your shirt up. You sat up slightly to get the blouse over your head and you watched him discard it onto the floor. And then his hands were over your chest, thumbs teasing under the wire of your bra, outlining the shapes of your breasts.

Your breathing had gone heavy and staccato by this point, your body sinking into the mattress, shipwrecked as Spencer touched you. His eyes wandered over your and that little smile on his face was enough for you to know that he was immensely enjoying himself.

“Can I…?” Spencer’s hands wandered down and gripped your pants as he looked into your eyes, a brow arched.

You swallowed a lump in your throat and your blush appeared over your cheeks at the same time as his. “Yeah,” you whispered, and Spencer helped you wiggle out of your pants - black slacks, since you had gone straight from work to the bar. They were soon tossed to the floor, and you were only in your underwear and your bra. And Spencer’s brown eyes did not make you feel objectified or embarrassed, but safe.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he told you, seriously, and your breath hitched in your throat.

“You-”

“I’m not done,” Spencer cut you off, lifting a hand to run his thumb down your chin. “You’re so beautiful. And you’re so kind, and smart, and funny. And I’d really like to show you how much I care about you,” he looked into your eyes as a sort of request.

“I’m not on birth control,” You breathed out in response, feeling your cheeks redden for even bringing it up. Way to damper the mood. Still, you wanted to be responsible. “Do you have a c-”

Spencer’s soft smile turned into a wicked grin and he shook his head. “We’re not going to need one,” he promised, and after looking into his eyes for a moment, you understood.

________________________________________

Spencer had thoroughly worshiped you, until you quaked and cried out with absolutely no thought to how thin his apartment walls might be. Usually, you didn’t allow yourself to be the center of attention for too long, but Spencer had insisted, and, well, you couldn’t very well deny him what he wanted, right?

Covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your hair matted to the back of your neck, Spencer finally lay down beside you. Your breathing was just starting to come back to you as you turned on your side to face him. Spencer’s body mirrored yours, the tips of his fingers - those fingers - trailing up the side of your arm. “That was…” his voice was soft, gravelly, and he looked at you like you had anything to do with it. It was literally all him. “Incredible.”

“Yeah,” you managed to breathe out, unable to really focus on anything besides the curve of Spencer’s lips, the way the apples of his cheeks appeared when he smiled like this. Spencer kissed your lips, unlike any way he had before. All the other kisses tonight had been hungry and excited, exploratory and new. This one was lazy and slow and you let his tongue dance across yours, and when he finally pulled away, your nose scrunched up in delight.

Your eyes traveled from his lips, down his neck, his collarbone, then back up, taking him in. The glow of his skin, the tired yet exhilarated look in his eyes. So different now than at the beginning of the night, when he’d looked at you with that slightly annoyed expression as you had tried to set him up with other women. You recalled how he had gone off to that group of three women right before you’d abandoned the bar, how he had struck out on purpose just to satiate your nagging. “What’d you say to those women tonight?” You asked him curiously, furrowing your brows at him.

Spencer, in turn, arched his brows at you. “Why?”

“Because I’m curious,” you said as his fingers continued to trail, feather-light, up and down your arm. You traced your thumb along his jawline, stopping at his chin. “You were obviously blowing it on purpose.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I actually do have some game, despite what Morgan might say,” he said, his tone defensive.

You snickered. “Sure you do, Spence. Took you, what, eight months, to get me in your bed?”

Spencer shot a playful glare at you and pinched the skin on your arm. You squeaked in response and he just laughed. “I just asked them how they were doing tonight,” he said finally, and you knew just from the look on his face that he was lying.

“You did not,” you pushed back. “Come on, Reid, spill it.”

“Ok, fine,” Spencer heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes, sitting up in the bed, his back against the headboard. You sat up, too, looking at him with concern. Why was he so embarrassed? “I told them… Jesus.” Spencer rubbed the space between his brows with his thumb and his forefinger. “I told them I was here with a coworker that I had a massive crush on, and that you were trying to set me up with someone else,” he began.

You started to smile.

Spencer continued. “I told them that I had absolutely no interest in going home with anyone tonight, and that I had been purposefully striking out all night long because I couldn’t stand the thought of even trying to look at someone the way I look at you.”

Your smile grew and you moved to sit on your knees, inching closer to Spencer and throwing one leg over him, effectively straddling him against the mattress. “So I asked them,” Spencer continued, his lips turning slowly from an exasperated frown to a small smile. “I asked them if they could just look at me like I had said something stupid, and then I would leave them alone.”

“Did they say anything to that?” You asked as Spencer’s hands found your hips, contouring to match the curves into the small of your back.

Spencer’s voice got slightly lower, more serious, when he said, “The girl in the middle did. She said ‘that girl definitely has feelings for you, too’. And then they did what I asked, and I walked back over to you.”

“She did not say that,” you rolled your eyes, just as Spencer kissed your lips.

“I have an eidetic memory, Y/N,” he reminded you in a low whisper, as his lips lingered against yours. “Would I lie to you about that?”

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stylesloveclub · 10 months

Text

sunshine (part 1)

In which Harry's a dick and y/n is a virgin who cries a lot.

˙· .° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °. · ˙ ‧̍̊

Y/n wonders if she thinks too highly of herself.

She thinks she’s pretty. Not in an obnoxious, self-obsessed way! She knows she’s not a supermodel, and she definitely has a lot of days where she looks and feels totally dead – but at the end of the day, she’s not hideous. She splurges on pretty makeup products, does her hair in the mornings, spends a decent amount of time planning out cute outfits… you know, little things to make herself feel pretty!

She brushes her teeth twice a day, showers regularly, flosses. Wears pretty perfumes that smell like flowers and lip gloss that tastes like strawberries. There’s a stash of gum in her bag that she’s always chewing on, so she knows she doesn’t have bad breath; and she carries an extra deodorant in her backpack too, so you can’t tell her she’s repulsive or anything like that.

She’s kind. She smiles at strangers and always laughs at people’s jokes (even if they aren’t funny)— holds the elevator door open and says a polite “good morning” or “hello!” with her happy, cheery voice. And even though she’s a bit shy, she tries her best to spread love and kindness in the world. It just makes her happy to make other people happy!

Plus, being nice means that everyone else is nicer to you. So even if she’s in a bad mood, she’ll fake a smile and pretend like she’s happy y/n.

But, she wonders... if she has all of these amazing qualities– if she really is as pretty and kind and wonderful as she makes herself out to be– then why hasn’t she been kissed yet?

She loves her friends, of course she does! But how is she so different from them? Why do all of her friends get asked out on dates and have amazing boyfriends while she’s still a lonely virgin who hasn’t even been kissed yet?

It’s not like she’s this super virginal person who gets grossed out by boys! She wants to be kissed, she wants to get fucked! She’s toyed around with the idea of just downloading tinder and losing it all to some stranger in one night stand, but her romantic heart just can’t stand the thought of it.

Yes, she’s desperate… but she’s also romantic. Love is on her mind 24/7. It’s what she thinks about before she falls asleep, what she daydreams about whenever she gets bored. She could spend hours with a romance novel, hyper fixating on the little things that most people wouldn’t blink an eye at. The way the boy’s hand cupped the girl’s jaw while they kissed, or how their fingers brushed as they walked down the street. Little things like forehead kisses and prolonged glances across a room.

She craves it for herself, desperately aches for the affection that she reads of. She wants to rest her head on someone’s chest and listen to their heartbeat as she falls asleep, feel their fingers playing with her hair, or their lips skimming her cheek. Wants to laugh under the covers and share secrets and be vulnerable and in love. She wants it more than anything in the world!

And yet, she hasn’t even been kissed!

Everyone else seems to do it so easily – find a nice guy, go out on a date, and fall in love. So why is it so hard for her? Her friends tell her that she's the prettiest and sweetest girl out there, and that the right guy simply hasn’t come around yet… but y/n can’t help but think, is any of it true?

Is she even that pretty? Is she actually likable?

What’s wrong with her?

˙· .° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡ ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °. · ˙ ‧̍̊

Harry hates these stupid college parties.

They’re loud and stuffy, with way too many people crammed into one room for his liking. The alcohol is cheap, the music is annoying. The entire apartment smells like weed, and there’s not even a secluded corner for him to mope around in without some group of drunk girls completely invading his personal space. Everything about these parties sucks.

If he could, he’d leave. But he’s meant to give a ride home to his roomie Blake, and Blake’s currently hooking up with the host of this party.

So Harry’s stuck here. Great.

He checks his phone, and it’s nearly midnight. Blake should be done soon, right? The blonde girl who’s been talking to him for the past 20 minutes is getting awfully close, her hand trailing on his biceps and migrating towards his chest, and she’s blinking up at him with fluttery bambi eyes.

Any other night and Harry might be into whatever this girl is hinting at, but he’s 100% sober and 100% not in the mood to hook up with a girl who’s taken one too many shots. He grabs the girl's hands and peels them off of his chest gently, muttering something about needing to use the restroom (he doesn’t even need to use the bathroom, he just needs a minute away from the pounding music).

He sends her off in the direction of her friends, who are giggling to each other in a corner across the room and not-so-inconspicuously checking to see if their friend has managed to successfully get with Harry. He’s sure they’ve realized that he rejected her when they all glare at him. Sorry to disappoint, he thinks to himself.

He’s nearly positive that any bathrooms in this shitty college apartment will probably be occupied, either with someone throwing up all the drinks they’ve had or with a couple hooking up. But no harm in trying anyway.

The first door that he tries to open is locked. The second door opens up to reveal a coat closet.

The third door however, opens up to a bedroom.

The walls are decorated with posters and pictures, fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, and tiny pots of succulents placed all over the room… but the one thing that stands out the most is the overwhelming number of books scattered all over the room. There’s a bookshelf on each wall, cluttered with books of all colors and sizes. Stacks of books lie on the nightstand by the bed, a stray book sits on top of a dresser, and a pile of new, untouched books sits pristinely in the far right corner of the room.

Books, books, and more books all over the room. And, a book in the hands of a girl sitting quietly in her bed, staring at Harry.

Dressed in a hoodie and some fuzzy pj pants, the book that she’d once held up closely to her face now rests on her lap as she blinks up at this strange intruder. She sits upright, closing the book but sticking her finger between the pages so that she doesn’t lose her place. “Um… hi?” she says quietly.

He steps into the room, and looks at her blankly. “Hi.” She blinks at him. “S’this room taken?” he asks.

“Um. Well,” she looks at him curiously. “No, I guess not.”

“Okay, good,” he responds, quickly closing the door behind him. He sits on a spinny chair that he pulls out from under a desk and leans his head back, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

The girl, with her finger still lodged between her book, stares at him confused. Who is this guy?

He’s cute, and she’s mildly embarrassed that he’s come into her room when she’s looking so… sleepy. But he also seems kinda grumpy and is obviously not in the mood to talk. He’s leaning back in her chair and closing his eyes, gently rubbing his temples as if he’s meditating.

She observes him with wide eyes. Then after a minute of silence she awkwardly picks her book back up and tries to resume reading.

Kinda hard to do with some random guy sitting in her bedroom, though.

In this secluded bedroom, the sound of the music has decreased dramatically. Harry’s pounding headache starts to fade away, and he feels himself start to relax for the first time since he arrived at this stupid party. He looks around the room that he so luckily stumbled into.

The desk in front of him is, to no surprise, cluttered with more books. A laptop is plugged in in front of him, and there’s a cup full of colorful pens and markers sitting against the wall. Hanging on the wall is a string of pictures starring the same girl with different groups of people.

He looks at the pictures hanging from the walls. Then he looks back at the girl laying in the bed.

“S’this your room?” he asks, finally connecting the dots.

She looks up from the book again and nods.

“Oh,” he hums, surprised. He supposes he should’ve realized it as soon as he walked in. Girl in a room full of books, reading a book. Face clean of all makeup, snuggled up in a blanket, nice and comfy as though she’s just about ready for bed. It’s a bit silly that he only made the connection once he saw her pictures up on the walls. “Why aren’t you out there partying?”

“Um… not really my scene,” she says, closing the book and looking at Harry properly. Her nose scrunches up, “And it smells really bad in there.”

“Jesus, tell me about it,” he groans. “Could hardly breathe in there. In fact–” he says, already standing up, “d’ya mind if we open up a window? Still feels stuffy in here.”

She shows no resistance as he slides the window open, accepting the fact that she’d be sharing her room with this stranger until the party was over. Harry sticks his head out and takes a deep breath of the cool, fresh air. Much better than the sweaty, smoky, sickly smell going on inside the apartment.

When he turns back around, the girl has rearranged herself. She sits criss-crossed on her bed and looks up at Harry, fidgeting nervously with her lip bitten between her teeth.

She’s kind of cute.

Harry breaks the silence again. “I think your roommate is hooking up with my roommate right now.”

“Oh.” She blinks. “Is your roommate Blake?”

He nods.

“Yeah, Maddie’s been saying that she, um… you know,” she looks down at her hands as they play with a loose thread on the hem of her pants. “Wants to hook up with him or whatever.”

He nods his head, leaning back against her wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. As refreshing as the air is, the night time breeze is cold.

“No offense,” he says, “But you don’t seem like you’d be friends with Maddie.” Maddie (y/n’s roommate) has jet black hair, wears heavy eyeliner and black lipstick everyday, and is at least a little bit high 90% of the time. Y/n, in comparison, has flowery bed sheets, a stuffed bunny tucked in next to her, and is hiding in her bedroom while a party being thrown in her own apartment.

She just smiles softly. “Yeah, we met online. But she’s really nice.”

He raises his eyebrow. “She seems like a bitch.”

She defends her roommate immediately. “She’s not a bitch!” But then she thinks about it for a second. Maddie can definitely come off a bit… harsh at times. “Well… she’s usually really nice to me, at least.”

That makes sense. It would be very hard to be mean to this girl, he imagines. She’s too nice. It would be like being mean to a puppy or something.

Good thing Harry isn’t mean. He’s just… a bit of a grump.

She taps her fingers against the cover of her book awkwardly, staring at Harry as he looks up to her ceiling and closes his eyes. He just wants to be in his bed right now.

After a few more minutes of silence, Harry pushes himself off the wall. “I think Blake should be done,” he says, checking the time on his phone. “I’m going to leave now.”

“Okay,” says the girl quietly. She watches as he leaves with a nod of his head, and shuts the door behind him.

That was weird, she thinks.

Whatever, though. She opens her book and forgets about it.

+++

Don’t people say that drowsy driving is just as bad as drunk driving? What constitutes drowsy driving? Should y/n even be out on the road right now?

She doesn’t know. All she knows is that Maddie woke her up with a phone call at 2 AM, asking if y/n would come pick her up from Blake’s apartment cause she was too high to get back on her own and she doesn’t want to stay the night there.

Y/n, being the sweetheart that she is, obviously wants her roommate to get back safe. So she’s in her car, at 2 AM, yawning every three seconds as she drives to the location Maddie sent her.

She texts Maddie from the car, but Maddie doesn’t respond. She calls her, then sends another text, but still no answer. After 10 minutes of no response, she goes up to the door and knocks.

Maddie doesn’t answer. Instead, it’s Harry.

His eyebrows furrow as recognizes the girl from that party he’d been at two weeks ago. She looks just as comfortable as she did then, in a big pink hoodie and a pair of sweats. “What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice confused and his eyes doubting. Not many people come knocking at his door at 2 AM.

Unlike y/n, who looks like she just rolled out of bed and drove here (that is exactly what she did), Harry looks like he’s been up all night (he’s been playing COD). He’s not wearing a shirt and has a pair of sweats slung low on his hips, showing off a chiseled abdomen that acts as a canvas for a multitude of pretty tattoos. Y/n finds herself staring at the swallows that lie under his collarbones, the butterfly painted above his stomach, and the ferns lining a yummy pair of v-lines that point downwards… she swallows thickly and forces herself to look away.

“Um,” she covers her mouth as she yawns, hiding her cold fingers with the sleeves of her hoodie, “Maddie needed me to drive her home.” She blinks sleepily, and can’t even bring herself to be embarrassed that she looks so dead.

“It’s 2 in the morning,” he scoffs. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

She blinks sleepily again. “I was.”

Harry rolls his eyes. If it were him, he would not have gotten up and driven all the way over here. Someone else’s problems are not enough to get him out of bed. But, this girl… she’s too nice.

He leaves her at the door and goes to Blake’s room, pounding on the door rudely. “Hey!” he yells, irritation evident in his tone, “your roommate’s here.”

He hears a bit of shuffling, before Maddie stumbles out of Blake’s room, makeup askew and clothing only half on. She giggles up at Harry and apologizes playfully, but he just glares at her. Her eyes are glazed over and the whites of her eyes bloodshot, very obviously high if the way she couldn’t walk straight wasn’t enough of an indication.

He feels bad for the stupid girl who drove all the way over here in the middle of the night because her roommate wanted to get high.

Maddie trips over her own feet and falls into y/n, who uses all of her strength to keep her roommate upright and walks her slowly down to the car. “Are you feeling okay?” Harry hears her ask quietly. He scoffs to himself.

He doesn’t get it. How the fuck has this girl not lost her shit? Her irresponsible roommate woke her up at 2 am and made her drive all the way to some stranger’s house, and yet she still manages to be so… gentle. So kind, to someone who barely even deserves it. So caring, to someone who seems to care so little.

As y/n helps Maddie get into the car, she looks back up to the apartment and sees Harry watching them from the doorstep. They make eye contact for a few seconds, his eyebrows furrowed as he leans against the doorframe. His gaze makes her heart stutter, a chill running down her spine. He looks… upset. Almost like he’s mad at her.

It makes her frown. She wants to say something to him, apologize for ruining his night… but then Maddie sticks her head out of the car and vomits.

Harry shakes his head and turns away.

That girl is too nice for her own good.

+++

“Hey.” Blake pokes his head into Harry’s room, where Harry’s busy playing a round on his computer, “Do you mind if Maddie and her friend come over?”

“Don’t care,” Harry mumbles, uninterested, not looking away from his game.

“Sick,” he turns around to go back into his own room, but stops when Harry suddenly pauses his game and calls out to him.

“Who’s the friend?” Harry asks, turning around.

“Y/n,” Blake answers. Harry stares at him, his brows furrowed. The name doesn’t ring a bell. “Her roommate.”

“That quiet girl?” Harry clarifies.

“Yeah, that one.”

Oh. So her name was y/n.

Good to know.

+++

It’s dark out when Harry finally turns off his game, sliding his headset off and stretching his back. He lets out a long groan as he feels his spine crack, a delicious feeling after being hunched over his controller for three hours straight.

Standing up, he scratches at his stomach lazily, throwing his headset onto his chair. His arms feel a bit sore, having been to the gym earlier that day, and his hair is still wet from when he showered. He puts on a sweatshirt, finding his apartment too cold to be roaming around shirtless, and heads to the kitchen to find something to eat.

He stops in his tracks when he finds y/n sitting in his living room all alone.

She’s got a book in her hands, a thick, worn-out novel that looks older than herself. She’s sitting comfortably on their couch with her legs tucked underneath her butt, so engulfed in whatever she’s reading that she doesn’t even realize that she’s not alone anymore.

It’s the first time he’s ever seen her outside of her sleep attire. She’s wearing a pair of loose, comfy looking corduroy pants, and a tight top that cuts off just below her ribs. Her chest rises and falls steadily, eyes skimming across the pages of her book so quickly that he wonders if she’s actually absorbing any of the words or not. She chews on her lip as she reads, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

When Harry finally speaks, it makes her jump in her place. “Where are Blake and Maddie?”

Her book nearly falls out of her hands as she whips her head around. When she sees it’s him, she relaxes. “Oh. Um,” she sits upright, closing her book, “They’re in his room.”

He nods slowly, squinting his eyes. There’s no nice way to ask his next question, so he just spits it out bluntly. “Why’d you come over if you’re just sitting out here while they hook up?”

She tucks her hair behind her ear nervously, feeling a little shy under his intimidating gaze. “Maddie was my ride to campus today. And she wanted to stop by here before we went home.” She shrugs quietly, “So I kinda had no choice.”

He huffs. Of course.

Y/n says that Maddie’s nice, but Harry really doesn’t like her. How weird is it to drag your friend somewhere just to have them sit alone while you go hook up with someone?

“How long have you guys been here?” he asks.

“Like, an hour.”

“So you’ve been sitting around doing nothing for an hour?”

She pouts. “I had my book.”

He blinks. She just sat here reading for an hour, while her roommate abandoned her to go hookup with Blake… and she’s okay with it?

She is too nice for her own good.

“Do y’want some pizza?” he asks, already opening the freezer.

Normally, y/n would say no. She’s kind of an unwelcome guest and she doesn’t want to be a burden on Harry. But… she hasn’t had anything since breakfast. And Maddie still hasn’t come out. She’s kind of starving.

“What kind?” she asks politely.

“Umm… cheese or pepperoni.”

“I don’t like pepperoni,” she confesses shyly. “But also I could just pick it off if you want pepperoni. Whatever you want.”

He rolls his eyes, shoving the pepperoni pizza back into the freezer. He wants to scream at her to stop being so nice! Stop being so considerate and just say what you want!

He puts it in the oven to bake, setting a timer for 15 minutes, then takes a moment to contemplate his next move. He could either go back into his room, where he could lie in bed and nap until the pizza was ready… or he could stay in here and sit awkwardly on the couch so that y/n wouldn’t be all alone.

99% of him wants to just go back into his room where he can be grumpy and alone in peace… but then he looks over at y/n, who’s sitting on the couch all by herself. She looks so uncomfortable and out of place, tracing her thumb over the raised up font on the hardcover in her hands.

The 1% of him that feels bad for her wins. He sits down next to her on the couch.

He nods his head towards the worn out book, which looks thicker than anything he’s ever read. “Are you reading the fuckin’ bible?”

“No,” she shakes her head, laughing to herself quietly. She runs her fingers over the grooves of the title, a feeling so familiar that it comforts her when she’s feeling so out of place. “It’s Wuthering Heights.”

He furrows his brow. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s good,” she says. “Kinda dense, but I’ve already read it a few times. It’s one of my favorites.”

He nods again, tapping his fingers on his thighs as silence overtakes the apartment once more. He looks around the living room, trying to find something else to say.

Y/n’s heart pitter patters in her chest nervously. She can’t help but feel a bit nervous around Harry. She’s pretty shy in general, and Harry’s stoic demeanor certainly doesn’t help her relax. Her voice is quiet as she asks, “Um… what’s your major?” A feeble attempt on her end at a conversation.

“Math.”

“Just math?” she parrots.

“Mhm,” he cracks his knuckles. “Pure math.”

She huffs out a quiet breath, a pout on her lips. “I’m in a math class right now.” Her fingers pick at a piece of fuzz that’s stuck on the couch. “Calc 1. It’s really hard.”

“Mm, yeah.” Harry hums, “Took that during my first year.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, “Did you pass?”

He holds back a smile. It’s amusing, how earnestly she’s asking him – a math major – if he passed Calculus 1. That class was generally easy for him, mostly just beginner stuff compared to the math he does now that he’s in his third year. But he doesn’t say that. “Yeah, I did,” he says simply, not wanting to make her feel bad.

She nods, looking back down at her book. “I’m kinda scared. Our first midterm was really hard.”

He hums sympathetically. Even though it was easy for him, he knows that calc class is infamously hard for others – especially for those who aren’t math inclined like himself. “How about you? What’s your major?”

His legs are spread apart so that he takes up nearly half the couch, whereas y/n sits curled up on the other corner, trying to take up as little space as possible. “Bio,” she readjusts herself so that she’s sitting crisscrossed, her book still clutched to her chest protectively. “With a concentration in ecology.”

Ew. He hates biology. Actually… he hates everything except math. Math is easy for him.

The oven beeps. A rush of relief fills his chest, finally free from this awkward conversation, and he eagerly abandons y/n on the couch to get the pizza out. He’s hungry, starving, and doesn’t bother with a plate or anything before grabbing a slice and shoving it in his mouth.

“Come have some,” he mumbles, mouth full.

She timidly walks over to the kitchen counter that he’s standing at, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants, and takes a slice as well. Blowing on it, she takes a much smaller bite than Harry did since it’s still so hot. She doesn’t know how he managed to already finish a whole slice.

Now that they can focus on eating their food, there’s no need for any more small talk. They eat comfortably in silence, only acknowledging each other when y/n asks for a napkin. He nods towards one of the drawers, asking her to grab him one too, and then they’re back to eating in silence.

Blake and Maddie burst out of his room a few minutes later.

“Harry made dinner!” exclaims Blake, coming over and reaching for a slice of pizza.

Harry yanks the tray out of his reach. “Get your own pizza,” he mumbles, putting the pizza back down in front of y/n. He looks at her, and nods his head towards the pizza, inviting her to take another slice.

Maddie stops her before she can reach for a second slice. “Ready to go?” she asks.

Y/n nods, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Thanks for the pizza,” she whispers to Harry, quiet enough so that only he hears.

“Yeah,” is all he says. He barely looks at her, too busy scarfing down his third (maybe fourth) slice.

She grabs her stuff and follows Maddie out of the boys apartment.

+++

“Hey!” Maddie pushes her way through the stuffed apartment, reaching her hand out towards y/n. “Listen, I’m gonna go home with Blake.”

“W-What?” Y/n’s head is foggy, her brain a little clouded from the few drinks that she’s had. Y/n doesn’t normally drink, so the little bit of alcohol in her system has had its intended effect and gone a bit further as well – her cheeks are warm, and she feels the world sway a little bit as she looks up at Maddie with a pout. “But– but what about me?”

Normally, y/n stays home whenever Maddie wants to go out and party. She prefers the comfort of her own bed and hates the anxiety she feels when she’s drunk and wobbly and surrounded by a bunch of strangers. But Maddie had assured her that they’d be together all night, that she’d take care of her if she got drunk, and that she’d drive them home whenever y/n wanted to leave.

She’s broken all three of those promises.

When they got to the party, Maddie abandoned her as soon as she saw Blake across the room. Luckily, y/n saw some of her own friends that she was able to hang out with, some girls from her ecology class who gave her a yummy strawberry smirnoff. They talked and laughed and y/n was having a good time, slowly but surely getting a little bit tipsy. The drink was so yummy, and Maddie wasn’t there to keep an eye on her, so she didn’t realize that she’d gone a bit over her tolerance.

She’s a bit tipsier than she’d like to be in a public setting, surrounded with people she doesn’t know, and it’s too dark outside for her to get home safely on her own. And now… Maddie wants to abandon her? For Blake?

“Don’t worry!” Maddie exclaims, completely disregarding the worry flickering in y/n’s glazed eyes. “I’ll order you an uber home!”

Y/n bites her lip nervously. An uber? At this time of night, when she’s all drunk and stumbling around like a sad little baby deer?

“Um… can’t you take me home before you go with Blake?”

Maddie rolls her eyes, “come on, really? I’ll pay for the uber. It'll be fine.”

Y/n’s heart beats loudly in her chest, “I-I’m scared of going by myself, Maddie. I think I had too much to drink, I don’t feel safe.”

Her roommate purses her lips in a firm line, as if she’s annoyed. She looks around the apartment, tapping her foot impatiently, then she lights up with an idea. “Stay here,” she tells y/n.

“Harry!” Maddie calls out, making her way back to the other side of the apartment. “Hey, Harry!”

He’s sitting on a couch, next to a pretty girl in a tight black dress who has her legs splayed across his lap comfortably. There’s a furrow in his brow that makes him look pissed off, but his hand rests very comfortably on this girl's thigh and he makes no objections as she plays with the collar of his shirt. His head whips over to Maddie as she tramples her way over to him.

“What is it?” he snaps, voice closed off and irritated.

“Can you drive y/n home?”

He blinks. “Huh?”

“Can you drive y/n home??” she says again, frustrated.

“Why?”

“Cause I’m going over to your apartment with Blake and she needs a ride home.”

He stares at Maddie unbelievingly, and peers over at y/n, who’s sitting all alone on the other side of the apartment. Her lips are pouted sadly, staring down at the floor with a far off look in her eyes.

“Why can’t you take her home?” he grumbles, looking up at Maddie with a glare in his eye.

She huffs, impatiently stomping her foot. “Cause I’m going home with Blake right now! Come on Harry, it’s not that far! Please?”

He shakes his head. “Fuckin’ unbelieveable,” he mutters under his breath, pushing the girl off of him as he stands up.

“Thank you,” she sighs, dragging him behind her. “Y/n,” Maddie says, stopping in front of her. “Harry’s gonna drive you home.”

She looks up, eyes wide and round. “H-Harry?”

“Yes,” she says harshly, “you guys are friends, aren’t you?”

“Um…” y/n doesn’t know what to say. She wouldn’t necessarily consider them friends just because they shared a pizza.

Her night out with Maddie was meant to be fun, but right now, she just feels abandoned and kinda scared. And Harry doesn’t seem too happy about this either, which makes her feel even worse.

“Lets go,” he snaps, jaw clenching tightly as he swings his car keys around his index finger. She flinches at his tone and digs her nails into her palms nervously.

She’s trapped. It’s either Harry takes her home, or she takes an uber all by herself. And she’s too scared to get home alone right now.

With a final look towards Maddie, who stares back at her dismissively and shoos her towards Harry, she stands up shakily and follows Harry out of the crowded apartment.

The air outside is much colder than the apartment, goosebumps immediately rising on y/n’s skin and making her shiver. Harry doesn’t acknowledge the way she stumbles over her feet, walking ahead of her briskly. She’s forced to keep herself composed, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm and nearly jogging to keep up with Harry’s long strides.

He unlocks his car doors and gets into the driver’s seat. Y/n opens the passenger’s side door for herself and takes a seat, buckling herself in quietly.

Turning on the car, he notices the way her arms are tightly crossed in front of her chest. He turns up the heat, and pulls out of the parking lot.

They play no music and say nothing, driving in silence.

“Sorry you have to drive me home,” she says faintly after a few minutes.

His turn signal blinks softly. “Can’t believe your roommate just left you,” he mutters irritatedly.

She says nothing in response. She stares out the window, a lump in her throat as the drive past the streets of college houses and apartments. The red light they stop at and the name of the streets go blurry from the tears gathering at her waterline. She sniffles softly.

Harry whips his head to her. “Why are you crying?”

Her lower lip wobbles as the first tear falls from her lashes. She wipes it away quickly. “I don’t know,” is all she says with a watery voice.

He stares at her befuddled, brows furrowed and eyes a piercing green, but she refuses to meet his gaze. She just looks outside the window in a melancholy haze, lost in thought, eyes unfocused as tears drip down her face silently.

He sighs deeply and taps his fingers against the steering wheel, praying for the red light to turn green so that he can get this girl home as soon as possible.

+++

When they arrive at her place, he sits in his car and watches as she stumbles up the steps of her apartment. She mumbled out a soft thank you through her tears and managed to climb out of his car smoothly, but the way she wobbles on her feet makes Harry worry that he shouldn’t leave until he’s sure she got in.

She stands in front of her door for a solid two minutes, trying to find her keys, and Harry taps his fingers against his thigh impatiently. When she finally finds them, she struggles to fit the key in the lock, hands shaky and her vision still blurred from the tears. Aaaand then she drops them.

Harry sighs and puts the car in park. By the time she’s picked the keys back up, Harry’s already gotten out of his car and reached the top step. He takes the keys from her and easily unlocks her door. “In,” he mutters, ushering her into her apartment impatiently.

He follows her into her bathroom and turns the light on for her. Their eyes meet in the mirror as he asks, “can you get yourself ready for bed?”

She nods, looking down at the ground sheepishly as he leaves her to take off her makeup and brush her teeth. She opts to skip her skincare routine and doesn’t even bother with putting her jewelry back in her jewelry box, simply just leaving her earrings on her bathroom counter to deal with tomorrow.

Harry’s probably gone back down to his car by now, she thinks. It’s so embarrassing, how he had to drive her home and guide her into her bathroom. He seemed annoyed with her. He probably thought she was so messy – an annoying, overdramatic girl who started crying in his car for no reason.

More tears bubble in her tears as the hot wave of embarrassment washes over her. She was such a mess, of course she’s never been in a relationship. Nobody would want to date someone like her.

She takes off her clothes and whips off her bra, sniffling to herself sadly. Slipping on her favorite sweatshirt, a huge pink one that goes down to her mid thighs and covers her hands, she uses the sleeves to wipe away the excess tears in her eyes. She stumbles over herself a bit and bangs her foot against her dresser as she reaches for a pair of sleep shorts and it only makes her want to cry even harder. Drunk y/n is extra emotional, and every little thing is sending over the edge.

As she’s stepping into her pair of sleep shorts, her bedroom door opens, Harry walking in with a glass of water in one hand and a pill bottle in the other. She trips over herself as she tries to pull her clothes on as soon as possible, but it just makes her lose balance and stumble to the side. His eyes widen and he turns around quickly, muttering a quick fuck to himself.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Are you decent?”

Y/n regains her composure, cheeks burning as she pulls her shorts over her hips. This night could not be going any worse. “Yeah,” she says quietly. She hopes it’s dark enough in the room so that he doesn’t see her flaming cheeks and puffy eyes.

He turns around and hands her the water, which she immediately starts chugging down. She didn’t realize how thirsty she’d been until she’d seen the glass in Harry’s large, tattooed hand.

“Slow down,” he grunts. He pops open the pill bottle and takes out one Advil for her. “Take this.”

She grabs the pill from him obediently and swallows it down with the rest of her water. Then she looks up at him, as if waiting for his next instructions.

“Bed,” he says, nodding his head towards her daisy printed sheets. She goes to climb in but trips over her shoe that she’d messily discarded on the floor. Harry grabs her waist before she can fall to the floor though.

“Jesus,” he murmurs. This was like the seventh time she’s almost fallen over tonight. Is she always this clumsy or was it the drinks?

He grabs her hand and physically guides her into her bed, making sure she lays down properly and lifting the sheets for her to climb under. Grabbing her ankle, he literally has to guide her under the blanket, then lets the duvet fall over her gracefully.

“All good?” he asks, once she’s tucked nicely into her bed, teeth brushed and medicine taken so that she wouldn’t wake up feeling gross tomorrow.

She looks up at him, eyes no longer tear filled but still clearly sad. “Yeah..” she says quietly, however her eyes flicker around her room as if she’s searching for something.

He furrows his brows, and glances in the direction her eyes have landed. A stuffed bunny lies on the floor next to the shoe that she tripped over. He bends over and picks it up, handing it to her questioningly. She takes the bunny and snuggles it into her neck, eyes fluttering as if she can finally relax. “Thanks,” she whispers.

Harry nods curtly and heads for the door. When he turns around one final, y/n is watching him with sleepy eyes. “Bye, Harry,” she squeaks out.

He stares at her for a second. “Bye.” Then he closes the door behind himself.

+++

Y/n wakes up with a pounding headache and an upset tummy.

That was mortifying.

She’s never gonna be able to face Harry again. He was so annoyed with her, she just knows it! The way she dragged him away from that party, cried in his car, and tripped over herself like a stupid goat with clanky legs… oh, he probably thinks she’s the worst!

She wishes she had more control over her emotions, that she could’ve held in the tears until she was alone in her bed… but she just felt so miserable last night. She had wanted to start crying literally when Maddie first yelled at her at the party, but she tried to stay strong. Kept herself together so that she at least didn’t start crying in the middle of a party.

But then… getting in the car with Harry. God. The deafening silence, the irritation radiating off of him… it made her feel terrible. She felt like a nuisance, like an annoyance and a burden.

And she completely humiliated herself in front of Harry! The cute guy that she maybe sort of had started to have a tiny little crush on, simply because he was cute and mildly nice to her and she has a habit of romanticizing small interactions.

There was no chance he’d ever want to be in a room with her after this. He probably wants nothing to do with her.

She stumbles out of her bed and plants her feet on the ground, her head spinning a little bit as she squints her eyes. Her little stuffed bunny has fallen onto the floor again, and she picks it up and places it onto the bed next to herself. She remembers how Harry had picked the bunny up and given it to her before she fell asleep last night, like she was some little kid that he was stuck babysitting.

Ugh. She’s never going to talk to him again.

+++

Harry stands outside of his lecture hall, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed angrily. His eyebrows are furrowed in classic Grumpy Harry fashion and his lips are pursed in a disgruntled frown.

He’s annoyed.

He stares at y/n, who’s sitting on a bench not too far away. Her tote bag sits on the floor next to her feet and there’s a book in her hand, her finger in between the pages as a temporary bookmark to not lose the page she’s on.

There’s something about her that just… annoys him so much. He can’t quite explain it.

The way her cheeks dimple as she smiles up at the guy talking to her, tucking her hair behind her ear gently when it falls into her face… it makes his jaw clench angrily as he watches her from a distance. She’s so nice. Too nice.

She laughs at something the guy she’s talking to says and it makes his stomach feel sour. He doesn’t like it.

Blake’s hand snaps in front of Harry’s face. “Bro. Stop staring.”

Harry forces his eyes to look away, brows still furrowed grumpily. “Wasn’t staring,” he mumbles, pushing himself off the wall and going into the lecture hall.

“You were,” he responds, following closely behind. “She’s really nice… I dunno why you hate her.”

“Who says I hate her?” Harry scoffs. “I never talk to her.” Especially as of late, she’s quiet as a mouse around him. He was over at her apartment to pick Blake up the other day and she’d only said a quiet “hi” before scurrying back into her room, like a scared little bunny in the presence of a snake or something.

“Well… I mean, you could be nicer.”

Harry furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”

Blake hesitates. “Like… I dunno. Maddie says you made her cry.”

“Huh?” He thinks back to that night… “How was that my fault?” All he’d done was driven her home and tucked her into bed? She just started crying on her own!

“She’s just kind of sensitive,” says Blake. “I know you probably weren’t trying to mean, but you’re definitely not sunshine and rainbows. You’re scary, did y’know that?”

Harry rolls his eyes. Everyone seems to have this preconceived notion that Harry's this huge dick who never smiles… and though it’s true that he rarely smiles in the presence of strangers, he’s not an asshole! He just doesn’t feel like wasting his energy in pretending to like people he doesn’t actually like. Or smile when it’s much more comfortable to furrow his brows and pout grumpily.

And he finds that usually his grumpy demeanor works in his favor – people stay out of his way, and he gets to avoid the headache that comes with interacting with people. But now this girl… this sunshine girl who always has her nose in a little book and always says please and thank you and is nice to everyone and stumbles over herself like a little puppy who's learning how to walk… she’s gone on and made him feel bad about it.

How annoying is that? To have the nicest person on the planet think you’re scary?

“I wasn’t trying to make her cry,” he mutters, irritated. “I didn’t even say anything to her.”

“Well maybe that’s the problem. Like… just try. I think you’ll like her.”

He doesn’t think so. She’s too nice. They probably wouldn’t get along.

+++

There are three things y/n does a lot.

The first is studying. Her grades come first, always. She’ll be at the library for hours at a time, snuggled up in a booth with an iced coffee and her color coded notes, studying until she can barely keep her eyes open. It’s unhealthy, and she really should take breaks more often… but she just gets really nervous about her grades!

She’s used to being at the top of her class, and has always been a straight A student. But recently, she’s been struggling. She’s doing fine in her chemistry class, and absolutely thriving in biology. But calculus… calculus is her worst enemy.

The second thing she does a lot is reading. She’s been a bookworm for as long as she can remember. Her most frequent genre is romance (obviously!), but she’ll dabble a little bit in the popular fantasy series, maybe pick up a thriller every once in a while. And if she’s feeling sophisticated, she’ll try to read one of the classics… something philosophical, like Camus, or maybe something a little heavier, like War and Peace. But those situations are rare. She prefers her little world of romance.

The third thing that y/n does a lot… is cry.

She’ll cry if she watches a sad movie, she’ll cry over a sad book. She cried when Finnick died in The Hunger Games, and she cried when she finished Of Mice and Men. She cries every single time she watches Pride and Prejudice (2005), sobs her eyes out when Mr. Darcy says, “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love- I love- I love you.”

She cries if someone yells at her, and she cries if she thinks someone doesn’t like her. She cries almost every time she’s drunk (example: when Harry drove her home), and she cries in the middle of the night when she’s feeling homesick. She cries for no reason when she’s getting close to her period… and sometimes, she cries because she’s just lonely.

Now, you might be thinking… y/n sounds super annoying. But please don’t think that! That would also probably make her cry.

She’s just a tad bit sensitive! She has so many emotions in her little heart, and she’s trying so hard to be responsible and manage life as a young adult but at the end of the day she’s just a girl!!! She’s just a girl, and she’s tired and stressed out and lonely and touch deprived, and sometimes she has a hard time keeping everything together so she just… cries.

If she could control it, she would! Do you really think she wants to be crying in the library? Of course, not! It’s embarrassing, and she’s trying really hard to keep her sniffles quiet and to suck the tears back into her eyeballs… but when she’s sad, she can’t stop the tears.

So now she’s crying in the library. And it’s all because of Issac Newton.

Why did he have to invent calculus? Like, what was even the point? Why did she, as a girl studying ecology, have to take this stupid class?

She buries her face in her arms, the tears unstoppable at this point, and just hopes that anyone walking past will think she’s napping and not crying her eyes out.

She’d studied really hard for that last midterm. Like– she’d literally been in the library for a week straight, just doing calculus problems over and over again. She went to office hours to get help on all the questions she was stuck on, and was watching the Organic Chemistry Tutor’s videos religiously. She did so much math that she was literally having dreams about doing calculus.

And yet, even with all of her studying, she still managed to fail the midterm. Like… she seriously failed it. As in, if she doesn’t get an A on the final, she will literally have to retake the class.

She’s so sad. She’s never gotten a grade this low, ever in her life. And she’d tried so hard!!! The morning of the midterm, she’d actually felt confident! She thought she had it in the bag!

She was so, so wrong.

She feels stupid – not just because she failed the midterm, but because she’s literally having a breakdown about it in the library.

This is stupid. Everything is stupid. School is stupid, Issac Newton is stupid, calculus is stupid–

“Y/n?”

Uh oh. She tries to wipe away her tears discreetly, licking her lips and clearing her throat and desperately hoping that it’s not obvious that she’s been crying.

When she lifts her head, she finds Harry standing in front of her. “Why’re you crying?” he asks bluntly, looking down at her with his brows furrowed.

Ok. So it is obvious.

“Um,” she sniffles, “Hi Harry.” She hopes that maybe if she pretends like everything is fine, then he won’t pry any further.

It doesn’t work.

“Why are you crying?” he asks again. There’s not much compassion or comfort in his voice. Same old grumpy Harry, so blank and impassive.

She shrugs her shoulders, feeling small and embarrassed. “I– it’s silly,” she stammers, looking down at her fingers.

Harry doesn’t say anything, staring at her and waiting for her to continue.

She swallows thickly. “I failed my midterm,” she whispers, her voice catching as a new lump grows in her throat.

“How bad?”

One lone tear falls down her face as she shakes her head disappointedly, which she wipes away quickly. “Really bad,” she whimpers. Her cheeks burn hot as she realizes that she can’t hold back the tears any longer. She quickly averts her eyes from him, staring into her lap and hoping that he can’t see her face.

This is the second time he’s seen her cry, which is two times more than she would like. He probably thinks she’s some silly, over emotional girl… probably thinks she’s so annoying. She just wants to curl up in a ball, hide in a dark hole and cry by herself. She can’t handle Harry’s judgment on top of her shitty midterm grade.

He stands there silently for a moment. Her lower lip has pouted out cutely and he can hear her sniffling quietly. “Was it math?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she grumbles sadly. Stupid math.

He hums. After another tense moment he asks, “Do you want help?”

“Help with what?” She stares down at her fingers, her tone dejected. The happy glimmer that usually sparkles in her eye is gone.

“With math,” he clarifies. “I can help you.”

She looks up at him curiously, still pouting. “You’d help me with math?”

He nods, pulling out the chair next to her. “Let me see your midterm,” he says, nodding his head towards the packet of math problems she’d just been sobbing over. Embarrassingly, the front page is stained with a few tears, but she hands it over nonetheless.

He scans over the first page quickly, reading the question and seeing how she answered it. “Do you know why you got this one wrong?”

She sniffles and shrugs. She hadn’t even tried to look over the questions, too mentally exhausted to even try and understand what mistakes she’d made.

“Look. You tried to cancel out the tan3x, which would make sense in any other case… but since it’s to the power of 4 you could really easily have used integration by parts.”

“Wish I knew that before I took the fucking midterm,” she huffs.

“Hey,” he tsks. “Learn from your mistakes so that you don’t make them again. You need to know this stuff to do integral tests later.”

She shakes her head. “I tried so hard, Harry,” she barely whispers, her voice exhausted. “Like I studied so much, and I really really tried to make it all make sense. But it’s just so hard for me.” She sniffles and wipes away more tears, taking a shaky breath and looking away from Harry.

She doesn’t want to try anymore. She just wants to give up.

He purses his lips, brows furrowed. There’s something about seeing y/n upset that just feels so wrong. She usually brings so much… light into a room. Seeing her cry makes it seem like the entire universe has gotten a little sadder.

“You’ve got the right idea when you’re solving these…” he tries to comfort her (though he’s never really been good at comforting people), “It’s just little things that you’re doing wrong. And it’s probably because you’ve got a shit professor who just has you copy down problems.”

“That’s literally all we do!” she whines, not even caring if she sounds like a baby. “He does the problems so fast and then I have to go home and try and figure out how he did it all by myself!” She sniffles and puts her head in her hands, more tears dropping from her eyelashes. She’s exhausted, her head starting to hurt as she exhales a shuddery breath.

He lets her cry a little bit. “Listen,” he says gently, turning to face her. The normal furrow in his brow is gone, his gaze a little bit softer. “Next time you come over with Maddie, bring your notes and we can go over them together, okay?”

She sniffles. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Like actually?”

“Yes,” he says again exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. He stands up from the table and puts her midterm back down in front of her. “Lighten up, sunshine. One bad score is not the end of the world.”

She feels a bit silly now that Harry’s witnessed her having another breakdown in the library. But, despite how little he said… he actually helped her calm down. This was not the end of the world.

“Okay,” she whispers, “thanks, Harry.”

He nods and walks away.

Maybe he doesn’t hate her, she thinks to herself.

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“I’m going out,” Maddie says as she walks into the kitchen, discarding her half full coffee mug on the counter as she grabs her car keys from the hook in front of the door.

“Your mug!” y/n tuts like a mother. Maddie rolls her eyes as she pours the last of her coffee down the sink and puts the mug in the dishwasher. Y/n ignores the dramatic eye roll, knowing that Maddie’s just playing around, and asks, “Where are you going?”

“Over to Blake’s,” she responds with a wink. She’s been telling y/n about how she’s been waiting for Blake to text her all week because she doesn’t want to be the one texting first all the time… weird situation-ship stuff that y/n’s never experienced before. Seems like he finally texted her, with how excited Maddie is to be going over.

Just as Maddie is about to step out the door, y/n remembers Harry’s offer. He’d been serious, right? He hadn’t just said that because she was crying… right? She really hopes not, because she really could use his help. She’d been up for hours last night, trying to do the homework, but ultimately giving up because she got too frustrated with herself. Maybe… maybe he’d be able to help her?

“Wait!” y/n calls out, “Um… can I come with you?”

Maddie raises an eyebrow, “Why do you want to come over to Blake’s apartment?”

Y/n turns a bit shy, “Harry… he’s, um, helping me with math.”

“Harry?” Maddie’s eyes glimmer curiously. “He’s literally such a dick. He’s helping you?”

“He’s not that bad…” y/n mumbles, remembering the ounce of kindness he’d shown to her in the library the other day. He’s just a little bit… reserved, she’s started to realize.

“Please. He literally never smiles. I dunno how you got him to talk to you, he always ignores me when I’m over.”

(Honestly, she doesn’t blame Harry for not talking to Maddie… she sometimes ignores Maddie in her own apartment too…)

“You have two minutes to meet me in the car or I’m leaving without you!”

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With her schoolbag in hand, y/n taps lightly on Harry’s door. Blake had told her to just go in, but she feels like that’s rude, so she stands in front of his door nervously and waits patiently for him to open.

“What?” he grunts, opening his bedroom door. “Oh.” The furrow in his brow softens the slightest bit when he sees it’s y/n. He’d thought it was Blake bugging him about something. Y/n is a much… nicer surprise.

“Hi,” she says, chewing on the inside of her lip nervously. “I was wondering if… um, you could help me out with my calc stuff?”

He stares at her for a second, then says, “yeah.”

He opens the door wider and she follows him in. His room is messy, but not gross. The bed is unmade, three half full water bottles on his nightstand, and there’s a pair of sweatpants on the floor… but at least it doesn’t stink!

His computer screen is paused mid-game, and she realizes that he’d still been holding his controller when he’d opened up the door for her. He throws a jacket that had been thrown on the back of his chair onto the bed, and motions for her to sit. Then he pulls up another chair that was sitting in the corner of his room to sit next to her.

“Let’s see it,” he says, shutting down his computer.

“So…” she takes her laptop out of her bag, setting it down on his desk and turning it on so that she can open up her homework assignment. While it loads, she unlocks her ipad to the scratch work she’d done last night. “I was trying to do the homework last night, and I think I’m supposed to be doing integration by parts but honestly I’m not even sure how to do that… so I’m kind of lost.”

Harry leans over her ipad and looks at the work she’d done. It’s… wrong.

“Can I see your notes for integration by parts?” He asks, trying to figure out how she ended up with 1 as her answer when it should be a much larger, much more complicated mix of trig and integrals. She scrolls up until she lands on a page titled Chapter 7, and points to the second example on the problem. Her notes are cute, written in pink with girlish, bubbly handwriting. However, it’s clear that she’d been struggling to keep up with the lecture, some of her work completely scribbled out and replaced with messy numbers and formulas. Next to one of the big portions of scribbled out math, she's written “WHAT???” along with a sad face doodled underneath it.

Clearly she’s a bit confused.

“Okay…” he scrolls down to a new page in her digital notebook and copies down the example problem that had confused her. “Let me show you how you do integration by parts first, and then we’ll look at the homework problem, okay?”

“M’kay,” she hums compliantly, crossing her legs and hiding her hands in her sleeves. She feels a bit… nervous. She doesn’t want Harry to think she’s stupid. But she’d rather have her ego a little bruised than fail the next midterm too.

“So… you do integration by parts when you can’t just do normal integration… usually if there’s e^x in there or a natural log then you know that you have to do integration by parts.”

She nods, following along quietly.

“In this one… you have x times e^x dx… you have to break it up into two parts, U and dV. And then you take the derivative of U and find the integral of dV. And you plug that into the formula. Do you know the formula?”

She blinks at him. “Um…” she shuffles through her notes and finds it. “It’s this.”

“Good… so what you do is you assign x to either U or dV and then e^x(dx) to the other… and then you find dU and V based off of that. Should we make x be U or dV?”

She purses her lips, “Make x=U?”

“Yes…” he nods. “Do you know why?”

She shrugs. “I guessed.”

His lip quirks up in the first smile y/n’s ever seen from him, a slight dimple popping up in his cheek. “S’cos we have to either find the derivative of U, or find the integral of dV. It’s way easier to use the derivative of x, cause it’s just one. If we made x equal to dV… then we’d add a fraction and a power of two to our equation and it’ll just make things ugly.”

“Oh.” She stares at his hands as he writes down what he just said in math terms, scribbling in his boyish handwriting that U=x and dU=1. “Okay.”

“So if U=x, then dV is equal to….”

“e^x?” she answers.

“Good,” he says gently. “And what is V?”

She stays silent for a moment, searching the paper as if it’ll give her an answer. He senses her confusion and helps her out, saying, “IF V is the integral of dV, and dV is e^x…”

“Well Isn’t the integral of e^x still e^x?” Her voice is unconfident, looking up at Harry with wide, round eyes.

“You’re right,” he says encouragingly, a soft smile on his face. “Stop doubting yourself so much.”

A reciprocating smile spreads on her face, feeling a little more confident with Harry’s praise.

“All you do now is put your numbers into the formula. Can you do it?”

He hands the pen over to her, their fingers brushing. Her hair falls in front of her face as she leans over the page to write down her answer, and Harry watches softly as she tucks it back behind her ear. He notices how long and delicate her eyelashes are as he stares at her side profile.

“Is that right?” she asks quietly, trying hard to be confident but still so nervous that she’s done it wrong.

He tears his eyes away from her face. “Almost,” he says, leaning forward. Their arms brush against each other, the space that they initially had set between their chairs having shrunk as they worked on the problem together. She can feel his breath as he quietly murmurs next to her ear, “You just need to add +C at the end.”

She furrows her eyebrows and turns her head towards him, and feels her heart stutter as she realizes how close their faces actually are. “What does the +C mean?”

“It’s just like… it’s supposed to represent any constants that we couldn’t find. Because when you take the derivative of a constant it just ends up being zero, so when you’re given an integral and doing the anti-differential process… you don’t know if there was actually a constant there or what it was. So the +C is just representing any constant value that could’ve been in the answer, even though you don’t know what the number is.”

She blinks at him. “Um… okay. I’ll just pretend like that made sense.”

He chuckles, the first time she’s probably ever heard him laugh. “It’s honestly not that important to get it. Just remember to add +C every time you take an integral.”

“Got it…” she says, adding the +C.

“Think you can do the next one on your own?”

+++

“Harry,” y/n pouts. “It says I’m wrong but I dunno why.”

He pauses his game and slides out of his seat, going over to y/n. She’d relocated to his bed after they did a couple more problems together and felt confident enough to do the rest by herself. His chest brushing against her back softly as he leans over her shoulder, going over her work. “What’s the integral of sin(x)?”

“Cos(x),” she says confidently.

“Not quite…”

She sits there for a second, brows furrowed. “Oh!” she adds a negative in front of the cos(x).

“There you go,” he grins down at her.

She lays down on his bed, her hair splaying out behind her as she throws her ipad on his bed, relieved. “Harry. You’re a genius.”

He laughs, a quiet huff of air that passes out of his nose with an amused smile on his face. “So it makes sense?”

“I think you should be teaching our class. You’re so good. Thank you for helping me.”

He hums, giving her a satisfied smirk, and goes back to his game while she finishes her homework. It's a strange setup, sitting in his bed and doing her homework while he plays, but she doesn’t mind it.

In fact, it’s kind of nice.

Harry’s kind of nice.

She kind of likes Harry.

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hope u guys loved it!!!!!! part 2 is up on my patreon already, and will come to tumblr next saturday (july 29) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u rhink and give her a rb and a comment i love u guys so so much!!!

sunshine - part 2 (already posted on patreon!) : In which Harry's a little bit nicer, and y/n is very excited to possibly, hopefully, maybe be kissed.

sunshine masterlist

#harry #harry fic #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #grumpyrry #grumpy harry #mean harry

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marvelouslizzie · 1 year

Text

You're My Desire - Co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: Your best friend drags you out on a double date. You were supposed to be Steve Rogers' date, but plans change pretty quickly and you end up in Bucky Barnes' arms.

Pairing: 40s Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, first date, public sex, ripped clothing, teasing, rough sex, dirty talk, praise, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.5K

A/N: We really don't have an excuse for this one. We just wanted 40s Bucky to have a good time, you know? This is basically smut with little bit of plot.

Please give my lovely co-writer @notafunkiller a follow. She's also a Bucky Barnes writer and her stories are amazing.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it's hate. That's never welcome.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Even though you really didn’t want to, you find yourself on a double date with your best friend. She literally begged you to come because she promised she would bring someone for her date’s best friend and apparently she really doesn’t wanna disappoint the handsome soldier.

You're shocked, though, when you arrive at the fair and see Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes in the flesh waiting for you two at the gate.

You were pretty sure she brought you here for Bucky Barnes but it turns out your date is actually Steve Rogers, aka Captain America himself.

You don't know what to do at first, awkwardly watching your friend hugging Bucky as if they knew each other for ages. Even though they met just a day ago. Steve extends his hand politely, which you immediately shake.

It doesn’t take long for you to go inside the fun fair together while chatting casually. Your friend, Cassie, starts asking questions about the war. She loves front-line stories, but Bucky doesn’t seem like he enjoys telling them.

Steve, on the other hand, is very excited to do it, answering all of Cassie's questions as you quietly watch them. You wonder why you said yes to this date. You've never been into soldiers and even less into war discussions. But you love your friend very much even when she ignores you.

You find yourself looking at Bucky while Cassie and Steve start to chat and exchange stories. He kinda seems amused by this development. You shrug looking in his direction, waiting for him to say something. After all, you are both already bored and your friends don't even seem to care or notice you anymore in the first place.

Bucky just smiles and then tries to change the subject. You think he actually handles that topic change pretty smoothly and it sticks for a while until Cassie gets bored of talking about books.

You remark Bucky's sad face, but you don't say anything. Instead, you subtly start to walk slower, hoping he'll do the same. As Cassie keeps talking to Steve, Bucky notices you are getting behind and just slows down a little.

"You're okay? Are your legs hurting?" Bucky asks concerned while looking at her shoes.

“No, no, I’m fine. Just got tired of the war stories, that’s all.” You keep walking slowly.

"Me, too." He sighs. "It's a never-ending subject at this point."

“Well, where there's life there's hope.” You quote the Hobbit instinctively. You hold on to the hope, one day you won’t have to talk about this war.

Bucky gasps, looking at you in a way you never experienced before. "What did you say?"

“I just said where there's life there's hope.” You repeat, surprised by the way he probably recognized the quote. People usually have no idea what you are referring to. Not him though.

"You're a fan? Oh god!"

That starts your actual conversation with Bucky Barnes. It turns out he’s a big bookworm himself. He reads as much as he can, always buying more books that he manages to read.

You didn't even realize how close you are until your shoulders slightly brush. You blush when he smiles, clearly not minding. Still, you feel very conscious about your closeness and quickly look toward your friend, feeling guilty that you are enjoying the company of her date, but she doesn’t seem to care one bit. On the contrary, she’s actually holding Steve Rogers’ arm while talking and laughing.

"You're very beautiful." You hear Bucky murmur shily.

His compliment catches you off guard. You were about to apologize on behalf of Cassie. Yet you find yourself blushing.

"And you love reading. I am a lucky man. I get to talk to you."

“I could say the same thing myself, Sergeant. I much rather talk about books instead of the war.”

"Then you got the right company." Bucky smiles and looks around. "Should we get some ice cream?"

“That would be amazing.” And that’s how you end up separated from Cassie and Steve. Bucky informs them about their plan and then leaves without waiting for them.

You spend the next hour talking and walking around the entire fair. James even won a teddy bear for you. Once in a while both of you act like you wanna find Steve and Cassie, but you definitely don’t care.

"I don't remember the last time I felt so comfortable and good with someone."

“I’m glad I’m not boring the shit out of you.” You know it’s not ladylike to speak this way, but you feel comfortable around him. It’s crazy when you consider you just met him maybe two hours ago.

Bucky smiles. "I can say the same. Steve says I'm quite boring."

“He’s quite boring himself.”

"Is he?" He snorts.

“Yeah. Who knew Captain America would be into war stories?”

"Doesn't the name say it?" He continues in the same joking tone.

“The name suggests he’s heroic and boring but he’s more boring and less heroic than expected. Stealing his best friend's date doesn’t scream honorable to me.”

Bucky is shocked to see her indirectly standing up for him. "Maybe I stole his date, though."

“His date was uninterested from the start and just being nice to her best friend.”

"Is she still uninterested?"

“In him? Yes.” You act like you don’t understand what he is actually asking.

"Well, the feelings are mutual. About the date and now…"

“You were uninterested in Cassie?” You say it in a way that shows you don’t believe him.

"Wasn't it obvious?"

“Nope.” It definitely wasn’t when they hugged each other the moment they arrived.

"I was trying to be polite. She insisted on this… meeting because I helped her out. I was relieved I could bring Steve."

“She sounded very interested in you until Captain Rogers started with war stories.”

"She was staring at his… back ever since we arrived."

You burst out laughing and he joins you right after. It sets the tone for the rest of the night and makes you notice you both don’t give a shit.

"I want to show you something," you say after a few seconds and quickly drag him after you until you reach a darker alley close to the last attraction. You drop the teddy bear carefully at your feet. "Hi."

“Hi.” He still seems a bit confused, but it’s so cute. He looks at the teddy bear and then his eyes turn back to your face. You can’t help but smile.

"You're so cute. Has anyone told you that?" You smile in return.

He acts like thinking for a second. “No, not really. Just cute?” He fishes for more.

"And smart." You touch his chest shily. "And kind."

“Hmm, those are not what people notice first.” He moves a little bit closer. “You have something…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, instead, his thumb brushes the corner of your lips. You wait for him to wipe off whatever you had on your face before opening your mouth and letting your tongue touch his finger shamelessly.

You watch Bucky’s eyes widen out of surprise. He didn't expect that at all. You grab his hand, bringing his finger inside your mouth, and notice how his breathing quickens. Yet he doesn’t stop you.

You let your tongue play for a few seconds until you let his finger go with a small bite. He lets out the lowest moan but not only do you hear it, but you also love it.

"Wow, I…" He doesn't know what to say, all red and excited.

“You what? Do you feel uncomfortable? Excited? I mean, I can stop if you want.”

In response, brave and happy, Bucky kisses you. His tongue is already on your bottom lip asking for permission, which you grant by opening your mouth without realizing it.

The kiss isn’t shy like you expected, and he definitely knows how to kiss. The way his lips and tongue move makes you want more, right then and there.

Your hands go to his neck as you let yourself enjoy the kiss even more. You keep kissing until you feel breathless. When Bucky breaks it, he doesn’t move away. His forehead touches yours as you try to catch your breath.

"This was…"

“I wanna do something if that’s okay…” You say while suddenly getting on your knees. You are wearing your favorite nylon stockings and you're sure they are gonna get ripped, but you don't care.

Bucky thinks he's daydreaming because how can this happen? How?

"What? What are you doing?"

“I think you know what I am doing, Sergeant. Just tell me to stop if you don’t want it, okay?” Your hands move to his belt but you wait for a reaction first.

"Stop. That's not… you don't have to do this. We are having a great time anyway."

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Is that okay for you?”

He can only nod, totally shocked and excited at the same time.

You unbuckle him slowly. Even though you are in a public place, you're in no hurry. You unzip him while looking into his eyes. When you finally take him out of his pants, he seems speechless. He’s already hard, but as soon as you start to move your hand, he gets rock hard after maybe four pumps.

"Jesus, you're so pretty. You look like a doll on your knees."

You smile proudly. “Tell me what I look like when I do this,” you say before taking him inside your mouth.

He closes his eyes, groaning. Your mouth is so wet and warm. You take it slow at first. Your mouth moves gently while you swirl your tongue around the head.

"Please." You hear him whisper, his left hand resting against the wall behind him.

You move your mouth away from him just to ask “Please what?” Your lipstick is already a little smudged.

"Oh god, keep going. Please, you're such a pretty sight."

“Tell me how I look when you're inside my mouth and I'll continue, promise.” You wink and remind him he still hasn’t fulfilled your request.

"Like a dream. Like a goddess."

“Hmm…” You go back to taking him inside your mouth without making another comment. This time, you move a bit faster than before and start using your hand.

"Your mouth will be the death of me."

That makes you smile but you don’t stop, moving your hand and mouth at the same time, hoping for a good reaction. His hand finds its way to your hair, wrapping it enough to pull a little. That encourages you to go faster, in need for a tighter grip. And you get it: soon, he wraps more of your hair around his whole fist, moaning your name.

“I think I'm gonna…” He sounds so breathy. “You should pull away.”

You look at him, acknowledging his warning, but showing him you are ignoring it. You keep moving fast, making sure your tongue flicks around the right spot every time until he spills inside your mouth. It’s a lot more than you are used to, but you still keep going until he completely empties himself. You take your mouth off, looking into his eyes before swallowing.

"No." He covers his eyes while groaning. "You can't do this to me, doll. Jesus…"

“Do what?” You innocently ask.

He doesn't answer you, taking you by the back of the neck and kissing you sloppily. You don’t get a chance to warn him about the taste and he doesn’t seem to care one bit. He groans into your mouth when he feels your hands on his ass and breaks the kiss just to suck on your neck.

Then you feel his hands between your bodies, trying to pull up his pants again.

You break the kiss to ask: “What are you doing?”

"I'm putting on my pants," he sounds like a kid. "And I wanna get on my knees for you, too."

“Maybe I want something else that doesn’t require you to put your pants on.”

He nods, without understanding what you mean. "Alright. I'll just-" He drops his right hand until it reaches her skirt. "Is it okay?" You nod with a smile. Even though it’s not what you meant, it’s fine.

His fingers immediately go to your underwear and push it aside.

"Fuck me. Look at that." You are really wet and his curses don't help either. "Soaked. Is that for me, doll?"

“No, it’s for Captain Rogers, who bored the shit out of me.” You joke.

You feel his fingers stopping on your slit as he lifts his head. "What did you say?"

“I said it’s for Captain Rogers, who bored the shit out of me. You know that gets the girls wet.” You hope he won’t be offended by this. It’s just a silly joke.

In response, Bucky pushes a finger inside you quickly, his lips curling into a smirk. "Should I start talking about war, too? Bet that would get you even wetter."

You let out a deep breath, relieved. Thank God he isn’t offended. “That would get me dry as a desert, Sergeant Barnes.”

"Should I dye my hair then?" He snorts, moving his finger faster.

“Maybe you should get a shield. It would definitely look better on you.”

"A shield, huh?" Bucky adds another finger, trying to scissor them inside you a couple of times. "Is it too much?"

“Nope,” you say after a moan. “It’s not enough.”

"Fuck, you…" he closes his eyes. "You want another?"

“I want something else.” You smile, hoping him to understand this time.

"Yeah? Like what?"

You grab his cock and gently rub it without saying a word. You are not surprised he’s hard because his erection has been pressed on your leg for a while.

"Fuck. You want my cock, baby?"

“Yeah. Why do you think I didn’t let you pull your pants back up?”

"I don't-" He moans. "I didn't think."

“Come on. You are making me wait while I’m soaking your fingers.”

"Wanna make you…" Bucky interrupts himself by adding a third finger, his other hand going to your clit. "Happy."

“Fuck.” You throw your head back, that felt so good.

"You like this?" He rubs a little more, paying attention to your body. His fingers inside you keep the same pace, though. He isn't slowing down now even if it's the end of the world.

“Yeah, that.” You breathe out. You already feel your legs shaking and you're afraid your knees might give out, but it feels so good, you can’t seem to focus on the concerns.

"Hold on to me."

You put your hands on his shoulders and it helps you relax a bit more. After that, your orgasm comes crashing in like a big wave that leaves you breathless. He doesn't stop moving his fingers until you finish coming, then he slowly pulls them out, making sure to lick them before kissing you.

“You are such a dirty soldier, Sergeant Barnes,” you say with a smile.

"What is dirty about this?" He shrugs. "I'm a good soldier, of course."

“Doing this in a dark alley with me and licking your fingers clean like that. Very good soldier, indeed.”

"Ihm." He buries his head right onto your shoulder and breathes in. "Thank you."

“For what?” You find yourself kissing his hair while asking the question.

"For this evening and this. Thank you for trusting me."

“You are something else, Bucky,” you say while caressing his hair.

"Hmm?"

You kiss his hair and his ear, then move your lips to his neck. “You can thank me later. We are not done yet.”

"Changed your mind?" He smiles. "Want me on my knees after all?

“Maybe later.” You wink. “Now don’t act like you don’t know what I want because I know you want it, too.”

He freezes. "Wait, you're serious?"

“Of course I am serious. Just don’t finish inside, okay?”

He looks at you again all serious. "Are you sure? We don't have to, I can use my tongue."

“Don’t worry, it’s not my first time and yeah, I’m sure unless you don’t want to.”

Bucky looks at you with puppy eyes. "Uhm, it's my first time."

“Oh god.” Your eyes widen. “I… didn’t consider… that possibility. I’m sorry.”

Bucky starts laughing at your worried expression and kisses your cheek. "My first time with a bookworm doll."

You punch his shoulder. “You worried me!”

That makes him laugh even harder, and you can't help but smile. Because he's extra beautiful like this.

"Why? Do you have something against innocent boys, ma'am? Shame!"

“No, nothing against it. Absolutely would love to teach and corrupt but wouldn’t want that to be your first time.”

"You don't want to take advantage of me, huh? Such a good girl." He surprises you by suddenly lifting you and helping you wrap your legs around his torso.

“Would you like me to take advantage of you?” You kiss his jaw and cheeks.

"Fuck, yes. Yes."

“Then you have my permission to take advantage of me, too.”

He doesn't ask you again if you're sure. Instead, he lifts his right hand to your blouse and starts unbuttoning it as fast as he can. He's so impatient he even manages to rip a button. You just watch him work and smile, hoping the gentleman side of Bucky finally stops holding him back.

He groans at the sight of your hard nipples and quickly leans in to take one in his mouth.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper while he uses his tongue to play with your nipple. It feels so good you don't even notice when his hand drops under your skirt. Until you hear the ripping sound.

“What the fuck?” You can’t believe he's just ripped your nylon stockings. They are so hard to find and so expensive!

"Whha?" He doesn't even take his mouth off your nipple as he speaks.

“Do you know how expensive those stockings are?” Your surprise is so clear in your voice. “You owe me a pair of nylon stockings, Sargeant.”

"They were in the way, baby."

“Getting impatient?” You mock a little.

He pushes his hips a little more. "Can't you feel?"

“You still owe me a pair.”

"What about these?" His hands are now on her panties. "How many do I need to buy you so I can rip these off?"

“Just one pair, but if you wanna rip that one, too, this cycle might never end.”

He sighs, contemplating, but he finally decides not to, only pushing your underwear aside. "How do you want it?"

“What do you mean?”

Bucky takes another step until your back barely brushes against the wall. "How do you like this? The sex."

“Don’t try to act all kind and push aside what you actually want to do. That’s how I want it.”

"Do you uhm… like it fast or slow? The pace I mean." He's slowly pushing inside you while he asks, trying to be as gentle as possible.

“That’s exactly what I meant. Do it however you want and we will see how I like it. Don’t be too gentle like this.”

"Talk to me, okay?" He's halfway inside you now, staying still for a few seconds as he leaves small kisses on your neck.

“Oh, I will, don’t worry, handsome. No one can stop me from complaining if I don’t like something.”

"Good girl." He tries different types of thrusts and angles at first, wanting to see what you respond to the most.

“Fuck. Why do you keep saying that?” She moves her hips to make him thrust faster.

"Because you're my good girl. Dirty too." He moans when he feels you. "God, you want it faster, baby?"

“Yes, yes, I do. Please. Move faster.”

And he does, his grip on your ass tightening as he starts thrusting just the way you want. "Fuck, you're soaked. You feel so good around me."

“You feel good, too.” You moan in between words. “And you are strong. Really strong,” you remark because he doesn’t look tired while holding you.

But he doesn't seem to acknowledge that. "I'm so fucking lucky, Jesus." He groans when he feels your lips sucking on his collarbone.

“You didn’t think your double date would end this way, huh?”

"Deep inside you? Not a chance." He smiles, speeding up.

“Maybe deep inside someone else.” You tease on purpose.

Bucky immediately stops thrusting. "What?"

“I was just joking about how we were meant to be on a date with other people.” You hate that you can’t shut your mouth sometimes.

"Oh," he nods, restarting to move. "Well, I can assure you, he wouldn't have done this tonight." He jokes back.

“Fuck me against the wall like this?”

"Fuck you at all. But especially like this. And the language?" He laughs. "Never."

“Oh, so honorable of him.” You keep joking. “Poor Cassie.”

His right-hand flies behind your head to protect it as his thrusts become way too quick. "Fuck. You feel like heaven, I swear."

“God, how do you do that?” You are surprised that he can carry you with one hand. “Are you sure you aren’t a super soldier yourself?”

Bucky shakes his head amused. "That will go straight to my ego."

“You're carrying me with one hand while protecting my head with the other, and you keep fucking me at the same time. I think it should go straight to your ego.”

He groans. "Lower one of your hands now."

“Lower it where exactly?” You don’t understand what he wants.

His hand moves from the back of her head for a few seconds just to bring her fingers to her clitoris. "Right here. Can you rub this for me?"

“Ohh.” You finally understand what he’s trying to do, so you listen and start rubbing yourself while his hand goes back to your head.

"Good, good girl. Look at you." He doesn't even realize how deep his thrusts are because his focus is on your fingers.

“Oh god… It feels so good.” You have never done something like this before. No public sex, no touching yourself during sex, no good girl whispers next to your ear. They all make you feel dizzy.

"Yeah? Just good?" His mouth finds your breasts this time, and you just know he's leaving a few marks there by the way he sucks on your skin.

“You wanna hear how good it makes me feel?”

"Ihmm."

“Oh, you are even dirtier than you are showing, aren’t you, Sergeant Barnes?”

He looks up immediately. "Say that again." He demands.

“Sergeant Barnes?”

"Fuck, you need to rub faster."

“You need to fuck me harder.” You say while listening to his order.

"Harder?" He repeats, shocked, not expecting that in the slightest. But he does as you demand in a heartbeat, biting his tongue because it feels so good.

You have a hard time holding back your reaction because it feels just perfect. You can feel your orgasm approaching.

“Shit, you need to cover my mouth,” you say as quickly as possible.

"Just use me. Bite my shoulder," he suggests quickly, keeping the pace exactly the same.

You wanna say no, because you don’t wanna hurt him but there’s no other choice left. You sink your teeth in somewhere between his neck and shoulder and try to muffle yourself. The orgasm hits you so hard that you are afraid someone is gonna hear you even like this.

"Fuck," he groans, the pain feeling amazing as you keep coming, your legs wrapping even more tightly around his ass.

“Please, don’t stop,” you manage to say and go back to biting him, very aware of the hickey you are giving him, but that doesn’t stop you because you don’t want to get caught like this.

"Can't stop." At this point you wonder how no one noticed you by now. The sound of your skin touching and your groans are not quite silent. But even if they did, you know you wouldn't stop. How could you?

"Keep rubbing, I want you to find pleasure again."

“Again?” You sound shocked because you've literally just come.

"Again." He tries to lift one of your legs a little more. "Please."

“I don’t think I can, but keep going, okay?” You already came twice in a short amount of time. How much more can you do?

"Well, I think you can." He smiles. "Gonna mark me up, baby?"

“I think I already did.” You can see your teeth marks on his neck. You are sure it will turn into purple really soon.

"I'm your property now?" The hand he has on the back of your head quickly grabs your hair and wraps it around his fist.

“Are you?” You like the sound of that and how he’s pulling your hair.

"I am." He's frantically thrusting in and out of you. "Rub faster."

“Fuck,” you mumble while rubbing yourself. You aren’t sure if it’s gonna do anything, but it feels good. “Can I keep you then? You know, kidnap you and hide you in my apartment so you don’t have to go back to the war. We can just do this every day.”

"Fuck, do it." He smiles. "I dare you."

“Should I tie you up so it looks more realistic?” And suddenly all that rubbing starts to feel different, more pleasurable.

"On your bed? Go ahead."

You laugh at how easily he’s convinced, but your laugh is interrupted by a moan.

"Gonna come for me, dolly?"

“I am not sure.” You struggle to speak. “It feels like it.”

He pulls your hair hard. "Please, please."

“You beg so beautifully, how can I say no?” It’s not like your body is saying no, either.

When you finish coming again, you watch with your eyes semi-closed as James takes himself out without dropping you even a little and comes right on your thighs and ripped stockings. You feel the warmth of his come while you both are trying to catch your breath.

"This was… wow."

“This is a hell of a first date.” You find yourself giggling. Did all that really happen? The soreness between your legs says yes.

Bucky slowly puts you down. "You think?" He snorts.

“Oh yeah, very memorable.” You notice that your stockings are completely ruined so you have no other choice but to take them off.

"Fuck, you're dripping." He doesn't look like he's sorry and he can't say he is, either. He's actually very proud.

“Yeah, I am aware.” You laugh while taking them off and using them like a washcloth to clean yourself up.

"You have no idea how lovely the sight is." He winks at you while zipping up his pants.

You bite your bottom lip while looking at him. “Likewise. You look satisfied, Sargeant. Did something happen while you were gone?” You pull your skirt down.

"I got touched by an angel."

You laugh. “So cheesy. You are lucky that you are a bookworm. A really good-looking one, who is also good at bed even though we didn’t even need one.”

"Next time. Maybe we'll break it." He sounds so confident, but not demanding at all at the same time.

“When are you going back?” You find yourself asking. If he’s promising you a second time, you are gonna take it.

"In one week."

You make a sad face without realizing then take a deep breath to help yourself focus on the positive side. “That’s a lot of sex.”

He immediately lifts your chin and presses a kiss on your forehead. "I was joking. We got two months."

“You are such a liar.” You punch him in his shoulder.

Which only makes him laugh. "You like it hard."

But your attention is on his neck, on the spot you bit so hard. The purple spot looks really old and mostly faded already.

"No comment?" He snorts. "We're gonna have a lot of fun for sure."

“I have a question.” Your eyes are still on that same spot. “Does Steve heal quickly?”

"Why? You plan on kicking his ass?"

“Just answer the question, please.”

"Yeah, he does." Bucky shrugs. "One of the perks of the serum."

“Even the small scars or purple spots?”

"Yes." Bucky doesn't even think about it. "Which is great. Why? You think your friend will want to know?"

You don’t comment about his question, instead, touch the spot you bit down so hard. “You are nearly completely healed. My mark has vanished.”

"What?" He asks, confused.

“I bit down on your neck so hard, it was dark red. Now it’s gone.”

"I don't get purple easily. Never did. I guess you have to suck a little more." He smiles leaning in to kiss you again.

“I fully bit you,” you say before he does.

"I noticed." He giggled.

Since he doesn’t take it that seriously you let it go. “Fine. I will prove it to you later.”

"Prove what?" He gives you another kiss.

“That you heal quickly.” You try to fix yourself while you kiss him back.

"Oh, I feel healed every time I look at you."

“You are so cheesy.” Yet you can’t help but laugh. “How do I look?”

"Good boy version or?" He pauses dramatically.

“Both.”

"Good boy version first: you look like an angel." He smiles cheekily.

You snort. “I’m asking if I look decent, Bucky.”

"Angel,” he repeats before dropping his hands to your ass and squeezing. "They won't know you've got fucked against the wall if that's what you're afraid of. But you look strangely content and happy."

“That’s because I had a good date.” You scrunch your nose cheekily.

"Me too. The best date ever."

“Should we try to find our best friends?”

"Oh, sure." Bucky leans in to get the teddy bear before handing it to you.

"Ready for more war stories?"

“No, I’m not.” You hug the bear. “I gotta wash this.”

Bucky snorts. "Poor bear. Got traumatized."

“Traumatized and all dirty.” You don’t notice how close you are to Bucky until you feel him next to you. “Should we keep this a secret from our friends?”

"Do you want to?"

“I meant the having sex in a dark alley part. I don’t think my friend needs to know that.” She definitely shouldn’t know all this.

"We should totally keep that part to ourselves." He smiles.

“I could say that you kissed me or something. I don’t know. Is that too forward for the first date?”

"There's no such thing. You can say I kissed you."

“I was genuinely asking.” You smile. “I normally don’t even kiss on the first date.”

Bucky giggles, his hand squeezing your hip. "I am a lucky gal." You smile back at him until you notice a familiar face.

“Oh, is that Steve?” You point to the tall blonde guy.

"Yes, that's him. But where is your friend?"

“Right in front of him. I can see her dress.” It’s sticking on the side.

"Oh, yes. Gonna drive you home after that if that's alright with you." He sounds so casual like he already did that many times, but you notice something else.

“You have a car and you didn’t think of using it until now?”

"Oh." Redness takes over his cheeks. "I got… distracted."

"You are such an idiot." You start to giggle while walking toward your friends.

"Your idiot now. You got stuck with me for at least two months." He laughs.

"Just for two months?" You test his intentions.

"I can't assume you'd want to wait for me, can I?"

"I will tell your best friend to bring you back home in one piece. He's the hero after all. That should be easy, right?"

Bucky looks at her with a soft expression before kissing her hair. "Guess you really got stuck with me."

"Oh shit, Steve saw you kissing my hair." It’s going to be hard to keep this thing between you two.

"Does it bother you?"

“No, no, no.” You quickly try to explain. “It’s just I’m worried that they might think the worst of me. I mean… questioning our closeness.”

"I dare them." She is surprised by how serious and determined he is as he speaks.

“I would kiss you right now if I could.”

"I won't stop you." He giggles like a kid.

“Our friends are,” you whisper and look at your best friend, who is coming toward you. Cassie is holding Steve’s arm proudly.

"Oh, hello," Steve says. "Where have you been?"

"Here and there." Bucky shrugs. "Did you have fun?"

"Yes!" Cass immediately giggles, joining the conversation. "He has the best, best stories. What about-" She cuts herself off when she notices your appearance. "What happened to your stockings?"

“Oh.” You blush a little, thinking about how they got ruined. “I tripped and ruined them. They looked so horrible I had to take them off completely.”

"Yes, they got really dirty," Bucky confirms with the biggest grin Steve has seen in ages.

"Oh, really?" He lifts his eyebrow. "What a shame."

“Yeah. Sergeant Barnes promised me a new pair. What a gentleman he is.”

"A gentleman indeed." Steve shakes his head, well aware of what you two have done.

You bite your lip and give Bucky a look, hoping at least Cassie has no idea. You are sure the three of you can keep a secret. For now…

You may wanna read the next part: Trust In What Tomorrow Brings

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daydreamingyuta · 2 months

Text

Sweetheart | Haechan

summary: fluff, bad boy!haechan au, your plans for this semester were straight forward, focus on your studies and don't get distracted. Your plan was failproof, until you met haechan, the very person you were told to stay away from. w/c: 4,460

As someone who relishes in being an academic, there was nowhere you wanted to be more than around the hundred year old buildings that surround your college campus. The start of a new school semester is a much needed fresh start for you, a time to forget about the person you were last semester and put all your focus onto your studies.

That was fully the plan you had for yourself. You had everything all mapped out and ready to go, until you inevitably got distracted.

⟡⋆.˚❀⋆.˚⟡

The day of your first class, you carved out extra time in your morning so you could enjoy your walk through the great halls of the historic campus. This was something you took for granted last semester and you weren’t going to let that happen again.

Strolling by the portraits of the college’s long-departed founders, you’re enveloped by the sounds of professors in mid-lecture, their voices carrying throughout the hall.

When you finally arrive to class, you surprisingly weren’t the first one there. There were two other students, one sitting in the very front and one in the back. Last semester you would have chosen to sit as far from the professor as possible, but you were determined to change, so you picked the perfect seat right in the middle.

As you get out all your supplies and place them onto your desk, more and more students fill the seats around you. As it neared the start of the class, you wondered if anyone was going to take the seat right next to you. You secretly hoped not, knowing the likelihood of that leading to distraction.

Almost all the seats fill up except for a few in the row above you, in the very front, and the seat next to you. You were relieved when the professor walked in because you assumed that meant all of the students had arrived. Of course, you were wrong. A few moments later, a group of five guys arrived, conversing loudly to one another. You assumed they were all friends and you hoped that they would take the five seats in the row behind you. You watched as they passed by your row and you mentally smiled to yourself, until you saw the face of the guy who was clearly the loudest in the group.

He doesn’t see you looking at him, and it wouldn’t matter even if he did. Haechan didn’t know you and you didn’t really know him either. You just knew his name and the various stories you’ve heard about him from last semester. You had only seen his face in passing before, but now under the bright fluorescent lights of the lecture hall, you were taken aback by how handsome he actually is. He goes out of view from your eyesight and sits down in a seat behind you. As the professor begins teaching, your mind forgets all about Haechan and his bad reputation.

You really assumed that you could go through the whole semester without Haechan crossing your mind again. How silly and naive you were. You did have to give yourself a little credit though. At first, you truly didn’t want anything to do with him. Everyday in class you assumed that you were practically invisible to him, like you were to everyone else. However, when you don’t want someone to take notice of you, it's almost like you become a magnet to them.

⟡⋆.˚❀⋆.˚⟡

Throughout the first weeks of class, everyone seemed to have remained in the seats they occupied during the first day, save for the few students that dropped the class. You were very content and happy with that fact because you hated change, even a change that mattered so little.

The beginning of class went by like normal, your professor passionately teaching as you took the best notes you could. However, you didn’t expect your professor to finish her lecture early and announce that there is an assignment that she wants everybody to complete by the end of class with a partner.

Making friends was actually the last thing on your mind this semester, so you look around the classroom as everyone pairs up, hoping to find someone who also has no one. You scan the room and as you look back to the left, you notice that someone has sat down in the seat next to you. A jolt shoots through you - a flurry of unexpected butterflies erupting in your stomach at Haechan sudden proximity.

The expression you wore on your face must have been that of complete shock and confusion, but all he does is smirk back at you and turn his attention to the professor at the front of the class. “Alright, it seems that everyone has their partners. I want you to take the next twenty minutes to ask each other the questions on the sheet that I have provided and evaluate each other's answers.”

You barely heard the words she was saying, not understanding why Haechan of all people would leave his friends to be partners with you. However, you did need someone to do the assignment with, so you decided not to complain too much.

“You gotta put yourself out there a bit more, sweetheart.” Haechan says, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?” Was all you could say, staring back at him.

He tilts his head at you and smiles, “You were looking around the classroom like a lost puppy.”

You feel blood rush to your cheeks, “Oh. I just haven’t really made any friends yet in class and-”

“Hmh, well you’re lucky I was here to save you.” You were about to correct him and say that you didn’t need him to do anything for you, when he interrupted again. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

It was the second time he used that pet name, and you weren’t sure what was more bothersome, the fact that he persisted in calling you by it, or the part of you that secretly enjoys it. “Y/n.” You responded evenly, trying to hide your inner conflict.

He mirrored your tone, a hint of challenge in his eyes, “Haechan.”

His presence confirmed everything you’ve heard about him. Yet, there was something so intriguing about him, the way he didn’t think twice about leaving his friends to help you, someone he doesn’t know. It was too much to think about so you put all your attention onto the assignment, hoping it would distract you.

⟡⋆.˚❀⋆.˚⟡

You had class again with Haechan two days later. The assignment was finished and already turned in, so you thought that you wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. Of course, you were wrong. You watch as his friends go to the row behind you, but he doesn’t follow them. Instead, he sits right next to you again. “Morning, sweetheart.” He says, flashing a smile at you.

There was that pet name again, even though he now knew your real name. You give him a small smile back to be polite and then pull out your notebook, deciding not to let him distract you.

You can feel his eyes on your notebook as you open it up to the most recent page of notes. Lately you have been fixated on drawing little sunflowers, so there were a few doodles scattered around your past notes. Just as you are about to write down the title of today's lecture, your notebook is taken from you.

“You draw?” Haechan asks, inspecting your drawings closely.

“Not really.” You say, which was the truth. You used to draw, all the time actually, but as you got older you stopped.

“Hm, cute.” He says, straight faced and looking right at you. You have no idea if he’s trying to compliment you or if it was a belittling ‘cute’, but you ignore him all the same, taking your notebook back.

He leaves you alone until the very end of class as everyone starts packing up to leave. “You know, you’re in college. You’re supposed to have fun.” Haechan says, his elbow resting on your notebook stopping you from putting it in your bookbag.

“I do have fun.” You say, genuinely shocked at his words. He knew nothing about you besides your name, which he doesn’t even bother to use.

“Yeah? I haven’t seen you out.”

“We just go to different places then.”

He gives you that same smile that could make any girl fall in love within seconds, “You don’t have to lie to me, sweetheart.”

“I wasn’t-”

“How about,” He says, leaning in so close to you that you can count all the pretty little moles on his face. “You get all dolled up for me and I’ll take you out tonight.”

⟡⋆.˚❀⋆.˚⟡

Alarm bells started ringing in your mind the moment you left class. Everything you’ve ever been taught urges you to stay away from him. Yet, here you are, putting on the finishing touches of your makeup in your prettiest little outfit, waiting for him.

You’ve talked yourself out of going about ten different times, but part of you found truth in his words. You don’t go out much, not anymore. It was hard trying to find time for fun while balancing all your classes, not to mention that you didn’t want to revert back to the person you were last semester.

Last semester you prioritized your social life over your classes, and you promised yourself that it wouldn’t happen again. However, you also promised yourself that you would try and enjoy everyday life. You didn’t think that would mean spending time with Haechan of all people, but you’ve never been good at predicting what decisions you would make anyway.

You’re taken away from all your thoughts by a knock on your door and literally nothing could have prepared you for the whiplash you experienced when you opened that door. Haechan stands there, flowers in hand, and all dressed up. Your face contorts into an expression of confusion that probably looks more unkind than what you intended.

“These were the type of flowers in your little drawings right?” He says, completely unfazed by your confusion.

Nothing in his tone from earlier had suggested that he was taking you out on a date. If you had known that, you definitely would have made an excuse not to go out with him. “I thought you were just taking me out tonight, not going on a date with me.”

“I am taking you out, exactly what I told you. I would never lie.” He says, making his way inside even though you didn’t invite him in.

You close the door behind him. “Actually I feel like you would.”

He leans on your kitchen counter, “Look, if you don’t want to go, then that’s completely fine. I can find some other girl to give these flowers to, but I'd really rather not.”

With his ever irritating and irresistible smile, he gestures the flowers towards you, wanting you to accept them. Against your better judgment, you do accept the sunflowers and he waits patiently as you put them in a vase, observing every aspect of your apartment.

Once you finish, you grab your wallet to put in your purse, but Haechan stops you. “Leave it.” He says, gesturing towards your wallet. “Do you really think I’m gonna let you pay for anything?”

“Do you even have a job?” You ask, suspiciously setting your wallet down.

He shrugs his shoulders, “I get paid.”

You don’t really care to know what that means, both for your safety and the fact that you don’t want to be an accomplice to any crimes he may or may not be committing. You do leave your wallet though, because the last thing you were going to do was turn down free dinner.

⟡⋆.˚❀⋆.˚⟡

Maybe it was the fact that your brain hasn’t fully registered that he’s taking you out on a ‘date’, but you were shocked when he ended up taking you to a pretty nice restaurant. It was right outside of campus, but there weren’t many people your age around, mainly older adults.

“I feel like you would like the salmon, it’s really good here.” Haechan says, as you look over the menu.

“You don’t even know me, how could you possibly know if I would like the salmon. I could be allergic for all you know.”

“No. That's why friends hang out, to get to know more about each other.”

“Friends don’t buy each other flowers though.”

As usual, Haechan is unfazed by your remarks. “Maybe not, but pretty girls deserve pretty things.”

You roll your eyes at him, “That’s such a line.”

“It is a line, but that doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” He leans forwards towards you, like he’s trying to get a better look at you under the dim lighting. “And you look even prettier when I make you blush.”

You hide behind your menu to hide the fact that you actually were blushing. Luckily, the waitress comes to take your orders quickly. “I’ll have the salmon please.” You say, ignoring Haechan’s smirk because you ordered excatly what he recommended.

“Can I ask you something?” You say, as the waitress leaves the table.

Haechans nods, taking a sip of his water. “Why did you choose to be partners with me? All your friends are in that class.”

He sets his water down and looks up at the ceiling, thinking. You can tell in his expression that he has an answer for you, but doesn’t want to say, so he shrugs at you instead.

You weren’t about to accept no answer from him, this has been bugging you since the day it happened. “No really. I want to know why.”

Unexpectedly, a shy smile crosses his face. “...I just thought you were cute. You get this really adorable concentrated look when you take notes. Plus, my friends are idiots so when I saw you without a partner, I saw it as my chance to finally talk to you.”

You find yourself torn at his answer. Part of you can feel yourself starting to actually like him, while the other knows the kind of guy that he is. However, you can’t ignore the fact that everything you’ve actually experienced with him is completely unlike all the things you’ve heard about him in the past.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I just have heard some things about you.” You say and you can tell that he immediately knows all the things you’re referring to. “But, now I'm starting to think that my perception of you was wrong.”

“Do you want it to be wrong?”

“Huh?”

“Or do you like the idea of a good girl being with the kind of guy everyone says I am?”

“I…” The food comes, cutting your sentence off, which you were grateful for because you weren’t sure what you were going to say. You hoped that the distraction was enough that Haechan didn’t notice your cheeks heat up again, because if you thought you were blushing before, it’s nothing compared to now. However, if you thought he was going to let go of this conversation, you were wrong. “You didn’t answer me.” Haechan says, taking a bite out of his food.

“I don’t even know how to answer your question.”

“Ok just let me know when you figure it out, sweetheart.”

⟡⋆.˚❀⋆.˚⟡

The rest of dinner went great. You were surprised at how easy it was to talk to Haechan, and how well he listens. You even found yourself not wanting to say goodnight to him, so when he took you back to your place, you were secretly happy when he invited himself inside again.

You were about to set your purse down when he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him. “I had a good time tonight.” He says, his eye contact giving you butterflies.

“Me too, actually.”

He playfully rolls his eyes at your response, “Actually? Like you were expecting to have a horrible time.”

“Well actually, I couldn’t expect anything because you didn’t tell me what we were going to do tonight.”

He smiles at you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, getting closer to you. “So pretty.” He backs you up so that your back is against the front door and he slowly brings his face closer to you, nudging your noses together. He doesn’t have a tight grip on you at all, you could move if you wanted to, but that was genuinely the last thing you wanted to do.

You realized that he was waiting for your ‘ok’ before he did anything, so you grab him by his belt loop and pull him even closer to you, your lips meeting. The kiss was a whirlwind, a collision of rough passion and surprising tenderness that left you completely breathless. You clung to him, intoxicated by the feel of his honey lips on yours, wanting this moment to last forever. His hands wandered to all the right places, sending shivers down your spine.

He pulls back for a moment, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I guess that answers my question for earlier then, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him before he takes you in again, kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before. Your knees grow weaker as he moves onto your neck. “Haechan…” You say, not even able to finish your sentence.

Unfortunately, he breaks apart from you again. “Yeah?”

You could kick yourself for what you were about to say, but you knew that the ‘new you’ was trying to improve. “I don’t ever do this.”

“I figured as much, sweetheart.” He tries to pull you in again, but you stop him. “So… you should probably go.”

He nods his head, but stares into your eyes. “I can tell you didn’t want to say that.”

“I don’t. I want you to stay, but I promised myself I would listen to my head over my heart so you have to go.”

He smiles at you, giving you one last kiss goodnight. “I’ll see you in class, y/n.” You nod your head at him, smoothing down your hair that he messed up, as you watch him show himself out.

The door shuts and you take a deep breath in, feeling like it's the first time you’ve breathed since he stepped foot into your apartment. You take a couple more breaths before you realize how hard you are smiling, wishing you didn’t let him leave, but proud of yourself that you did.

⟡⋆.˚❀⋆.˚⟡

You had forgotten how nice it felt to be wanted by someone. You were content to be completely single this whole semester, but you had always loved love. It was something you daydreamed about constantly, even wrote a few short stories here and there in your free time. You didn’t want a one time hookup, if you were going to put your heart on the line, it was going to be with someone who deserved it. The problem was, you weren’t sure if Haechan did deserve your heart or if he even wanted it.

The attraction was there and it was so easy to talk to him, but how many girls did he take out like this? For all you know, he could be out with another girl right now, making her feel the same emotions he made you feel last night. The thought of that made you sick with jealousy, so you decided to distract yourself so you didn’t have to think about it. Haechan would make his true feelings known to you in time, you knew that much, so all you could do now was try not to go crazy thinking about him.

You started on your classwork first thing the next morning and finished around noon. Realizing that the only thing you had to eat today was a smoothie for breakfast, you decided to get out of the apartment and go to the cute cafe that was on campus.

There were few things you loved more than walking around campus on a beautiful day like today. The hills of grass were finally green again after the harsh winter, and the spring flowers were starting to bloom. You were about halfway there when a gust of wind blew, blowing flower petals all over you. You smiled as the soft petals graced your face and you shook your hair out, even though you had a feeling you probably didn’t get them all out.

You arrive at the cafe, greeted with the warm smell of coffee being brewed and pastries being baked. You were walking to the counter to order, when you saw him. Haechan was sitting at one of the few tables in the cafe, facing a woman whose back was turned towards you. Your heart dropped at the sight of him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the same thing he did to you last night right before he kissed you.

You knew it. You knew that everything you’ve been told about him was true. You should have seen through his charming act and listened to your head instead of your heart. You didn’t want to look at him any longer, so you turned around to leave. You thought that you could disappear before his eyes found you, but you were wrong. You heard him call out your name, not once but twice, but you kept going, refusing to look back.

“Y/n! Hey.” Haechan says, gently grabbing your arm right as you walk out the cafe. You stop walking which gives him enough time to get in front of you, “Hey.” He says, grinning at you like he has no idea all the emotions going through your mind. When you didn’t return your smile, his smile faded away. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” You mimic his question while crossing your arms. “I let some guy take me out last night, let him kiss me and make me feel pretty, all while he was going to do the same thing to another girl the very next day.” You try to walk away from him, but he stops you again.

“Y/n, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I promise you I wouldn’t do something like that to you.” He says with pleading eyes.

“I saw you!” You say, a little too loud that other students start to look over, but you don't care. Haechan was about to deny your allegations again, until the realization dawned on him. His face changes from confused to cocky in a split second. “Sweetheart,” He says, giving you the same addicting smirk. “If I had known jealousy made you look this hot I would have done something sooner.”

You fume in anger at his words. “Are you serious?” He gets closer to you, causing your back to hit the wall of the cafe. “So this is what you like to do, huh? You like to pick out girls in your classes that look loney, make them think that someone like you would give someone like them a chance, and then what? Make them jealous for your own sick pleasure?”

“Y/n.” His calming voice a stark contrast to your angry one. “Do you really think I would do that to you?” He got even closer, the feeling of his soft breath on your neck. “Do you really think I could kiss you like I did last night if I felt absolutely nothing towards you?”

You couldn’t explain it, but his words washed all your anger away. No, you didn’t really think that he would do that to you. And no, you didn’t think that he was capable of kissing you like that if he didn’t have feelings for you, but that still didn’t explain what you just saw in the cafe.

Before you could question him again, Haechan answers all the questions swimming in your mind. “The girl I was with just now is Julia.” He backs up a bit and you look into the cafe window and see Julia scrolling on her phone. “We volunteer at the animal shelter that’s just off campus. That's the only reason why I know her. I bumped into her today and I could tell that she had been crying, so I thought that I would buy her a coffee to cheer her up. She’s going through some family stuff and she just needed someone to talk to.”

“Oh.” was all you could say as you process his explanation. Haechan tilts his head at you and gently brings his hand up to your hair, removing a flower petal that was still stuck from the wind earlier. “You probably think I’m crazy now.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy, y/n. I’m actually flattered that I have this effect on you.” You laugh at his words because they were true, he did have such an effect on you.

“I’m sorry I made such quick assumptions about you, Haechan.”

“It’s not really your fault. We haven’t known each other for very long and I know what people say about me.”

“Does it bother you?”

He thinks for a minute before responding. “Sometimes, but it’s not like I go out of my way to show people the real me.”

“Why not?”

“Sometimes it’s easier to just play a character in front of other people.”

You didn’t know what to say so you nod your head at him because you knew from experience that he was right. Sometimes you had to play a character that everybody expected from you out of fear of revealing your vulnerable side.

It hit you then, that that was what Haechan was doing. He wasn’t playing a character right now, he was being so vulnerable with you. Your heart constricted at the thought of him feeling that safe around you. You wanted to grab his face and kiss him right now, but you’re still in a very public place so you settled for a sweet kiss on his cheek. “Don’t ever feel like you have to play a character in front of me, Haechan. I like this you better.” You say giving him yet another kiss on the cheek because you couldn’t resist. “But if you still want to call me sweetheart occasionally, I would like that very much.”

Haechan breaks out into the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen in your life, and you were just grateful to have been the cause of such a beautiful expression. He cups your cheeks into the palm of his hands and you lean into his left palm. “I like you a lot, y/n.”

“I like you too, Haechan.”

#haechan #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #fluff #kpop #imagine #nct scenarios #fanfiction #haechan x reader #haechan x y/n #haechan x you #k-pop #fanfic

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randombush3 · 29 days

Text

you're not sorry to go

ona batlle x reader

summary: ona and you are best friends, but it's a bit more complicated than that

words: 4.5k

notes: this one is based on true events x

also let's ignore the result of my poll because i want the next part to have smut and it wasn't fitting with the vibe of this part

oh and the title is a quote from 'this side of paradise' by f. scott fitzgerald

January, nine years ago.

Nothing about today has been out of the ordinary.

The weekend is starting, winter drags on, and Ona is all set to train later on in the evening, provided you confirm whether or not you are willing to accompany her to the local pitch.

Barcelona B usually allows for Fridays off, but Ona isn’t stupid. No one becomes the greatest footballer of all time by not playing more. School is beginning to bore Ona to death, and she knows that she wants what she always has: to go professional.

“I have a plan,” she tells you confidently, glad you don’t mind sitting on the uneven, grassy sideline as she sets up her cones with determination. You hold the ball between your hands, though Ona is amused by how foreign it looks to you, and you seem to be holding her prized possession hostage so that she spills. “It sounds simple and obvious out loud, but it’s that I am going to play for Barça while you go to the university. You can introduce me to your smart friends so I can meet my wife, and you’ll have all the boys after you anyway so–”

“Ona.” Her monologue has led her eyes to the ground, but your voice makes her head jerk upwards, not needing much authority to get her to look at you. “I’ve actually had a… realisation, of sorts,” you say with a bashful grin, chin jutting out the way it does when you are gearing up to tell her something that no one else will get to know. “Your cousin is really pretty.”

“I’ll tell her you said that.” It’s a nice thing to say, and you are partly aware that Ona’s cousin knows who you are because she doesn’t shut up about you ever, but you can’t help the frustration that begins to bubble up inside of you.

“No, Ona,” you try again, “she’s really pretty. Like, I would kiss her.”

Ona frowns, then. “Don’t be one of those.” She means the girls who experiment, who toe the line of liking girls but don’t, not really. She has been warned about them by her older teammates, the ones who go out for drinks and kiss girls in clubs. The budding footballer really admires them, because their advice is always good and she gets to explore her sexuality without feeling like a creep. No one in Vilassar de Mar cares much that Ona does like girls, but it doesn’t stop her from feeling judged all the same.

You are one of her best friends, but Ona isn’t sure she can forgive you if you become someone like that.

“I’m not! I wouldn’t do that.” Your offence is suspicious, and you have been so caught up in destroying her worries that the ball has been dropped and is now rolling towards Ona’s feet, where it is instinctively flicked upwards and caught. “I wouldn’t, Oni, because I know it’s unfair to you guys.”

“But you want to kiss my cousin? That makes you interested in girls in general too, you know.”

You bite your lip.

“Ona, I think I’m gay.”

The ball is dropped, along with her jaw, and you shift uncomfortably in your seated position, not enjoying how big of a deal she is making this out to be.

People realise that they’re gay all the time! Why should it be any different for you?

“Oh,” is all Ona can manage to breathe out, wondering what to do next. Although your friendship cracks the padlocks of most secrets, there is one that hasn’t ever been shared. One that now means substantially more than it did five minutes ago.

“Say something, please,” you groan in mock annoyance, moving aside your textbooks so that you can grab Ona’s hand and pull her down on top of you. She is much stronger – she trains every day – but something about your skin touching hers injects a surge of patheticness into her well-earned muscles, and she falls, of course she does, because she always falls for you.

…

A year passes.

You kiss Ona’s cousin, as intended, and Ona knows the breakup is going to be rough but nothing prepares her for when it comes.

She’s conflicted, and she’s older now. No longer left behind by her teammates, Ona gets to go out with them when they don’t have football; she gets to talk to the girls about their sex lives, she gets to be involved in it all. She has met Alexia Putellas and been treated like an equal, and she made out with her fourth ever girl last week, this time progressing past tongues and confidently letting her hands roam.

Ona would say that she has learnt a lot since you dropped your nuclear missile, and she has managed to forget the initial hope she had felt. The secret had been near-faded.

Until you are calling her, sending her a text when she doesn’t reach her phone quick enough.

‘Ona, I really need you.’

She hears nothing from her cousin – they were closer when they were younger – and that, she reasons, is why she is by your side in an instant, meeting you at the windy beach you go to when you are sad, hair damp from running and eyes a little wide as she tries to wake herself up.

“She said she can’t do it anymore,” you whisper, voice cracking under the strain your sobs had put on it. “She said that she really likes me but that it’s not enough, and she doesn’t want to break my heart but she knows she has to.”

Ona doesn’t get a chance to respond, because you have flung yourself into her chest before she can think of the right words to say.

Your shoulders shake as you cry, devastating howling joining the whistles of the wind and the thrash of the waves. The sand is unsteady beneath your feet and you stumble, but Ona holds you firmly, as though she has only ever trained to hold you up. Though you feel her biceps, hard and significantly larger than the last time she had held you this way, you are too caught up in your first heartbreak to acknowledge the tiny, tiny spark between you.

As you cry and cry and cry, Ona can’t help but feel a little bitter towards her cousin. Clearly, your affection wasn’t false and, though it was working towards the severance of your friendship, you actually cared quite a lot for her.

Ona chooses to abstain from her jealousy because she is embarrassed that it is possible.

She is there for you the next day, ensuring you have eaten and allowing you to sleep, but the sun soon sets and Ona vows one thing to herself: she will not take advantage of it.

“I’m going home,” you mumble when you wake from your restless nap, rolling over into the empty space in your best friend’s bed. The sheets there are cold and unused. Ona must not have moved a muscle since you fell asleep. “My parents must be a little confused, and we have people coming over for dinner. Thank you for looking after me.”

“No problem.” Ona nods and you awkwardly stand up. “I think I’m going out with the team tonight, but don’t hesitate to call me if… Well, if you feel sad again.”

“It’s going to feel shit with or without you.”

You are trying to distance her, to tell her that she can have fun. It might be an issue that your friendship only seems to work when the two of you discuss your recent conquests or latest flings, but it is not one that either of you wants to address for now.

“I’m just making sure you know I’m here,” she defends indignantly, rolling her eyes at the glimpse of your happier self making its return.

“Are you going to be drunk?” Your question is pointed and you should really cross your arms and tap your foot impatiently to match your tone. “Don’t you have training tomorrow?”

“Maybe, and not tomorrow, no. I’ve been asked to join the first team the day after so they’ve given me an alternative rest day.”

“Ona, if you get drunk, you won’t be there for me at all. You’ll have your tongue down some poor, poor girl’s throat and your phone will be dead.” You laugh from experience, having grown accustomed to how she behaves under the influence. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I swear that alcohol is what fuels your hormones. I’m not going to burden you with my fucking pathetic crying, and, well, you know me, I’ll just find a boy to talk to. I am going to be fine.”

No one in the room is convinced.

You swat the air between you two, telling her to get on with getting ready. “Now, enjoy your night, and tell me all about it tomorrow morning!”

Ona wonders if you are over-compensating by insisting to hear about whoever she has gotten off with, but you are practically flying out the door the minute you have said goodbye to her family and she is stumbling around her room trying to find a clean bra. Life goes on.

If time did not tick on its own, one of you would task yourselves with turning the hands of the clock manually.

You try to recover from how much it fucking kills to have a girl break your heart by reminding yourself of your worth in the best way possible: male attention. They hound you, but you enjoy it. You crave it, most of the time, even if the feelings are never quite believably reciprocated.

It annoys Ona to no end, the way you play with the boys chasing after you. She hates the push and pull, fed-up with the constant complaining from your end. Often, because Ona speaks her mind when she can, she tells you that it’s not fair on the ones who hand their hearts to you only to watch you pierce through them with sharp, I-was-never-a-lesbian nails.

You don’t talk about her cousin. At least, not to Ona because you have been informed by some other friend that blood is thicker than water.

Or maybe it’s because Ona begins to avoid you, begins to spend more time with her teammates, who don’t hide their sexuality and who like the things she likes. (Once, in a hateful frenzy, Ona thinks to herself that the only thing the two of you have in common nowadays is that she likes you and you like you too.)

“What happened to your best friend?” Laia Aleixandri asks thoughtfully once after training. Ona is helping her collect the water bottles the other girls had left lying around on the pitch. There have been more injuries than what’s comfortable within the first team, and maybe some of the reserves have forgotten that they are not yet professionals. “You’ve stopped talking about her.”

“We’ve fallen out,” Ona answers, settling on that because she doesn’t know how else to describe the shift in your relationship.

“Over what?” comes Laia’s obvious sequential question, more a due dalliance than genuine interest. Laia is one of those girls who plays to play and can sometimes be too busy to spend time with the team outside of training. Because of this, she is largely unaware of Ona’s growing reputation within the squad. As Ona has grown up, her confidence has increased. Girls like that, and they are in plentiful supply to her. She no longer needs to be drunk, but something almost certainly occurs if she is.

“She dated my cousin and, I don’t know, the way she acted in the fall-out was horrible. She likes girls, I know she likes girls, but I think she has been scarred and her ego has been bruised. No boy has ever made her cry like that, and I think she’s traumatised. And it’s valid! I understand, completely and totally, but she is acting as though she never had a thing with my cousin and it’s annoying. It’s as if being gay is a joke to her.”

Laia senses that Ona’s not done, and she is correct to think so.

The next wave is this: “Laia, I really don’t agree with it, and it is hurting me. It hurts to see my cousin be messed around by a straight girl, it hurts to see my best friend hate part of herself, and it hurts me because, well, it just– it just does! I can’t explain it.” She can; she doesn’t want to. Her secret is still heavily guarded and it is going to take more than Laia asking about you to get her to confess. “I just want peace for everyone involved,” she says after taking a deep, diplomatic breath.

“Peace,” Laia repeats with a giggle. “Ona, the things I have heard about you are the opposite of ‘peace’. Aita’s been keeping me in the loop, and she says that–”

“Okay, Laia, I don’t need a lecture.”

What probably would have been very helpful for Ona to know is lost to the devastating final blow of her eye-roll as she jogs to the water cooler to return the bottles and head home.

…

The reconciliation of a decade-old friendship is fast and natural. Things do not quite go back to normal, and the two of you are not as close as before, but your group of friends at school breathe out a collective sigh of relief when the ice thaws and Ona starts to turn up to their gatherings instead of the ones held by her beloved blaugranas.

It’s a camping trip.

Their first year of bach has ended, and someone – Ona doesn’t know who – has suggested a camping trip because her grandfather’s brother owns a farm and the farm has a field and the field is far-removed enough for the smell of cigarettes and red-label whiskey to dissolve before reaching the house.

“Are we really going?” Ona asks, making you all laugh as you haul your bags and tents along the tractor path.

“I do think we should’ve gotten in the tractor,” you agree. Ona nods at you, thanking you for your support.

Everyone else says it’s good fitness, and then hurls insults at Ona for the remainder of the trek because she should be the last to complain if she is going to become a professional athlete.

It’s not as far as it seems, and the tents are set up quickly, along with some chairs, a foldable table, and a hefty stash of various bottles of alcohol.

You start smoking the minute someone flashes their lighter, and Ona uses that as a reason to stay on the other side of the small campsite for a good hour or so.

She stays away from you no matter how much you stare, but you watch her all the same.

The boys you talk to are not satisfying. Some may have innocent intentions but the majority don’t, and you know that you are pretty but you are not shallow like that. You don’t even meet the boys half the time unless they corner you at school and demand a slot of your in-person attention.

The boys you talk to explain football and the gym and why they have to play FIFA until the sun rises because it will definitely help Barcelona win on the weekend. They take you for an idiot, and they hardly acknowledge that your best friend (sort of) plays for their darling club so of course you know the rules and the positions. You know that Ona is a defender, and that she is good at it. You don’t want to be patronised and you don’t care about this kind of thing unless it involves Ona.

Therein lies the issue, actually.

You don’t care about much unless it involves Ona. Ona, who sways to the music bursting out from the speakers just as stiffly as she always has, not exactly blessed with dancing talent but not for lack of trying. Ona, who declines alcohol tonight because she is following a summer strength and conditioning programme with the hopes of playing in the first team’s preseason matches. Ona, who looks beautiful. Always.

Smoke billows from your cigarette, right towards the point of your focus, and, suddenly, doe-like eyes are staring back at you with a small, small smirk. She waves, as if to say that she has caught you, and you lean back on the camping chair you are slouched in, pretending to laugh at whatever your friend has just said beside you.

Later, when everyone else is knocked out from the bad quality of the whiskey, snoring comfortably in the other tents, Ona and you kiss. And once you start kissing, you don’t stop.

Ona is good at this, you assume, because she knows exactly what to do. Contrary to popular belief, you are far more active in theory than in practice, and she surprises you a little bit. Or maybe she doesn’t, because it’s Ona and Ona is good at everything.

You strive to match her, and you do by the time you finish school.

Sporadic, non-committal, and in complete disregard for your friendship, the arrangement of hooking up when you feel like it sees you out of Catalonia, with Ona naturally in tow.

Madrid CFF is happy to have her, and you quite enjoy the challenge of the Spanish capital. It’s not Barcelona, it’s not ideal, but change is good and you need space to explore who you are without watchful eyes and nosy gossipers.

Homophobia isn’t quite a thing in your family. Your parents are not radically against gay people. In fact, you’d say they are relatively supportive. However, that doesn’t stop you from feeling some discomfort. You lived through Ona’s struggle to come out, and her parents are ever more care-free than yours.

Madrid is a brand-new place, and word about how you are doing is easily controlled. Updates come from either you or Ona, and that means there is a filter easily applied to all anecdotes.

Your friends know about the sex, more or less. They know, they don’t approve, but they let you guys sort it out yourselves because everyone agrees that that is just how you and Ona are. They won’t understand it and they have given up on trying to.

Both of you make half-hearted efforts to separate the arrangement from your friendship. You don’t talk much afterwards until the other has left the realm of I-am-in-love-with-you. It’s nice to be in Madrid together, but you find different social circles soon enough and then you are reaching out more for sex than friendly activities and… You stop sleeping with each other upon the footballer’s request. She wants to focus on her career, on her success. She tells you over the phone because she cannot bring herself to end whatever occurred over the last two years in person, knowing that she’d take back her decision in a heartbeat. Ona really, really likes football, and she knows that she has to become obsessed with it to get to the top; more obsessed than she is now. How can she do that if you are distracting her?

You’re disappointed, but you respect her wishes.

Girls in Madrid stop seeming as shiny. The world is a bit duller, because although there had been no exclusivity between you and your best friend, there had always been that guarantee that the other would be ready and waiting. Your growing misery makes studying boring, and you find answers for your emotions in a science textbook, desperately running away from the obvious truth. Less sex means that you are unhappier. It’s biology.

It’s not a crush.

Not on Ona.

No.

And it’s certainly not this not-realisation that flies you to Milan the minute a modelling agency inquires about whether you have ever thought of, well, modelling. They scout you someplace random, and your mother claims that she could have helped you start your career earlier if only you’d have been interested.

When you explain to your best friend what you are moving for, she is oddly unsurprised and uncaring. Her reaction is sickening, because you’d have rathered her get an ego boost from having slept with a model than be so fucking apathetic.

“I’m going to Milan, Ona,” you repeat, just in case she has not heard you. “I’m moving. We did the trial shoots last week, and they loved me. They want me to update my social media and work on building up a following, and they said that I should start learning English because I might end up in New York.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” She doesn’t sound like she means it, and you grow annoyed about how she is not even trying to sound enthusiastic.

“Can’t you be happy for me? Or is it only acceptable for you to have dreams?”

“I am happy for you, I just said that.”

“The words left your mouth, but they definitely did not come from your heart.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Ona rolls her eyes and the pent-up sexual tension builds and builds until the bottle it has been shoved into can no longer withstand the pressure. You haven’t argued since you moved to Madrid, which makes no sense considering you literally broke up – even if it absolutely wasn’t dating. Neither of you has processed your broken heart, and you’re pretty sure you are still too traumatised from the first girl you fell in love with to be capable of revisiting those kinds of emotions.

Ona hasn’t had sex in weeks, and it is affecting her performance. She can’t sleep if she has the energy she does, and she can’t get through her workouts because not sleeping makes her lose her appetite and then she does not have the energy to complete them. Her coaches are worried, but they know that she is young and though almost idiotic, they mostly assume that she is repulsed by the idea of playing for a club in Madrid. They get that a lot with the Catalans that come over from La Masia, whose dreams have been delayed because the first team had thought it necessary that they gained more experience elsewhere.

Ona has wanted to shout and scream every minute of every day, and so have you. Therefore, everything explodes.

…

You inhale deeply, exhaling when it feels as though some of the stress has dissipated. This casting is one of the more important ones of the week. It’s odd to be judged on your appearance, to be paid for it, but it has been almost a year since you moved to Milan and you are enjoying yourself.

You don’t miss university, and you don’t miss your parents. Your friends visit you lots, loving the idea of your career, loving the excuse to escape their dreary weekends in where they have always been.

Milan is great. You make friends with a few other models, though they come and go depending on work, and the more experience you get, the more your following count goes up. Brands send you things, nice things, and events start extending invites to lure you into the glamour of the industry.

Milan is great, you tell yourself on repeat.

Milan is great, but it would be better if Ona were here.

Milan is great, but you regret the way you left things and want to take it all back.

Milan is great but–

“Your fitting is tomorrow,” says the assistant, reading off her iPad. You suppress your wandering thoughts, nodding. You need this job, you need the money to pay for a flight. The agency has given you some advancements – an impressive thing, apparently – but not enough to cover the cost of the ticket to New York for the start of Fashion Week. This show will fluff out your experience, and increase your chances of walking at one of the bigger shows.

You’ve been told that you are quite a good model; attractive, funny, with just the right amount of personality to be both a mannequin and an interesting figure.

The lifestyle is different but good, and you realise that you’d never wanted the mundanity of studying and then working and selling your soul to some kind of tall office building. Not everyone gets the concept of living away from home, especially not those from your tight-knit community who think the city is stretching the distance slightly (the train works, you can live with your parents and have a good job – you’ve been told that a few times), but you don’t mind. You can explain it as much as you want and they would still be confused.

You stay in touch, but you don’t stay present.

As your career snowballs over the next two years, you pull away from your home, always on a flight, always busy. You go to LA and Paris and London, and you rent your flat in Milan out as an Airbnb whenever you’re not there. You love the city, you start to think of it as yours, and slowly but surely, everything else fades into the background.

Apart from Ona, of course. Your friends still visit, or you meet up with them if you ever find yourself in Barcelona, and they continue to affirm just how proud they are of you. They talk about her a lot, too; about where she’s playing now, about injuries and fame and representing Spain. They know you are too stubborn to search it up for yourself, but these are the people who have grown up with you: they know you would like to be informed.

When you hear that Ona has moved to Manchester, you don’t quite think your actions through.

You have had enough. You miss her terribly.

Her number has changed, but someone passes it onto you.

You: I saw that you’re playing Arsenal next week. I’ll be in London then. Do you want to get a coffee?

Ona takes her time replying, but that is only because she wants to delay the inevitable.

Her eyes shine and her hair is damp, but the kick-off had been early and you don’t have anything to do today. You meet her in the carpark, picking her up in a black BMW that’s sleek and shiny and 100% not yours. Her laugh is light and free as she knocks on the driver’s window and juts her thumb out, instructing you to swap.

“I’m not getting in a car that you’re driving,” she declares seriously, though you know she has forgiven you because she would not have agreed to meet if she hadn’t. “Come on, I checked on Maps and there’s a place not too far from here that looks nice. And it’s empty, so don’t worry about the paparazzi.”

“The paparazzi are not after me,” you shut down quickly, not wanting her to think you are a bigger deal than what you are. Successful, yes. Famous? Not so much. “One day it’ll be you worrying about them, when you’re all grown up.”

“I’m twenty-one!”

It comes out so whiny and childish that you burst into a fit of giggles. Ona is proud to have made you laugh.

You don’t kiss her, but you’d like to. Then again, maybe it’s better to just be friends.

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagines #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #barca femeni #randombush3 #pretend it's not all build up #but it is

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elix8r · 11 months

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Monkey Bars (sjy) Part 1

Part 2

PAIRING: jake sim x fem!reader

GENRES: smut, fluff, crack, college au, frat au, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, fwb, angst

WARNINGS (for this part): jake and Y/N being mean to each other (jake’s actually a menace), profanity, underage drinking, Jake does Beomgyu SO DIRTY like justice for my mans, intimate photos/video being seen by unwanted eyes, harassment (mostly verbal but it’s pretty upsetting), invasion of privacy, slut shaming, panic attack, jake seriously being an ass, mentions of stds, mean dom!jake, sub!reader, unprotected sex, oral sex (m recieving), face fucking, fingering, filming during sex, mirror sex, dumbification, humiliation

SUMMARY: Jake Sim was like the epitome of the perfect fourth-grade boyfriend. He had it all – being a year older automatically put him on the cool list (which in turn also boosted your popularity), genuinely kind, and very cute. But then, the earth-shattering truth that he was a two-timing cheater hit you like a ton of bricks. You caught him red-handed, holding another girl's hand and it devastated you beyond measure. So of course, in your nine-year-old mind, there was only one deserving punishment – a forceful push off the monkey bars during recess, resulting in a broken arm.

And so, the battle lines were drawn. You and Jake became sworn enemies, a feud that carried on even into college. You saw him as a total fuckboy who always knew how to get under your skin, while he saw you as a snobby bitch who thought she was better than everyone else. But fate, in its twisted sense of humor, had other plans. Out of a class brimming with a hundred other possibilities, it was Jake who ended up being your assigned partner.

Clearly, the world had favorites and you weren’t on that list.

WORD COUNT: 18.4k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This took so long and I def struggled writing it compared to pink whitney but i think it mostly has to do with how different they are! I’m not sure how long the next part will be but I definitely think it’ll be in the double digits cause I still have so many scenes planned out so hopefully it won’t take too long lol also i’m sure you guys will have stuff to say about jake by the end of this part cause he highkey sucks so i’m excited to see what you guys have to say lol but guys seriously thank you smmmm for all the love i hope this doesn’t disappoint and I would love to hear feedback!! thank you thank you everyone 🫶

THE FRAT DIARIES MASTERLIST

GLOSSARY

You couldn’t help but label anyone who told you to rush as absolute monsters, and in this case, it's your own mother and older sisters donning the monstrous roles. The three of them were all former sorority sisters, passing down the torch of tradition to you as the youngest. Initially, you were all in and ready to dive into the frenzy, but soon enough, the harsh reality hit you like a ton of bricks. Going through recruitment wasn't a walk in the park; it required nerves of steel. You found yourself having to socialize with over a hundred girls just during the past week, and man, it was driving you to the edge. Your sanity was slipping away, and you couldn't shake the feeling that this whole ordeal might be straight-up violating your very essence as a human being.

Lucky for you, today marked the last day of recruitment before bid day—the day you'd finally sprint towards your new home, liberating yourself from what seemed like a never-ending torment.

"Can you believe that there's a possibility that we might become sisters tomorrow?" Wonyoung, your lifelong best friend since diapers, now your roommate and potential sorority sister, couldn't contain her emotions at the thought. Despite your mixed feelings about the whole process, you were grateful to have your partner in crime by your side through it all. The possibility of ending up in the same house together overly excited you.

"I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we're on the same brainwave when we submit our rankings." Alpha Epsilon Sigma was the only house in your schedules that the two of you had in common. It would be the sole path that would unite you under the same letters.

"I mean, you're practically at the top of AES' wishlist with your legacy status and connections through your sisters. I'm just hoping they like me as much as I like them," Wonyoung's face twisted with a mix of anticipation and apprehension, aware of the intricate politics surrounding her position.

To a certain extent, she had a point. However, your family made sure to stress to you the importance of choosing based on your own desires, rather than succumbing to their influence. "Don't stress too much. And as cliché as it sounds, I promise we’ll end up where we’re meant to be." Your words seemed to offer a glimmer of reassurance, soothing her worries.

"Thanks, girl." She pulled you in for a tight hug before bouncing off her seat. "Well, my first party's about to start, and I don’t want to be late so I’m gonna head out right now. Good luck with your last two houses today, and I'll catch you back at the dorms!" With a wave, your roommate dashed off, leaving you with your thoughts.

The next day arrived, and as you opened your envelope, there was no surprise when you saw a bid from Alpha Epsilon Sigma staring back at you. Choosing had proven to be more difficult than expected, given your initial bias going into recruitment, but you were pleasantly surprised by the outcome. However, it was clear that your heart had already made its decision. And it seemed that Wonyoung knew it too, judging by the ecstatic shrieks emanating from beside you.

"I got AES! We’re sisters!" She practically tackled you with joy, and both of you jumped around in sheer excitement over your matching outcomes.

"See? I told you not to worry." It was a challenge to contain your excitement as you joined the other girls who had received bids from your sorority, eagerly making your way towards the house. The realization that this would be your home for the next four years was simply unbelievable.

Greek Row was bustling with energy, each house boasting its own unique theme. Yet, your eyes were drawn to one in particular. The house you had visited throughout the past week seemed transformed, barely recognizable amidst the sea of red and pink enveloping its pristine white exterior. Massive heart-shaped balloons floated in the air as a gigantic banner cleverly proclaimed, "All You Need AES Love," took center stage. You could also spot your sorority’s letters standing big and proud decorated with pink and red hearts all over. Members of the previous classes dotted the lawn, each holding custom-made heart signs to warmly welcome the new members. Among the crowd, it was easy to spot Winter, the girl who had rushed you all throughout the week. She bounced up and down, hoping to catch your attention, and you couldn't help but smile as you spotted your name signed beautifully on the sign that she was holding up.

"Y/N!" She squealed with delight, enveloping you in a tight hug. "I just knew you'd be an AES girl the moment you walked through our door on that first day!"

Bid day was living up to your expectation as you were having an absolute blast. Every person you had met so far welcomed you with open arms, and the festivities showed no signs of slowing down. The music pumped, and the atmosphere was electric. It was clear that choosing AES was the best decision you could have made.

It was no surprise that as soon as it turned dark outside, everyone started ushering the new members to a frat house. Epsilon Nu offered to host the girls of AES and you were beyond excited to meet the frat. While you were no stranger to frat parties, you were new to EpNu as the only houses you’ve previously been to were Beta Tau Sigma and Nu Chi Tau due to your sisters. But the stories you’ve heard about EpNu made your hopes high about the boys. Rumor was that they knew how to have a good time and they were apparently all smoking hot.

While their house couldn’t compare to the grand mansion your sorority claimed to be home, but you were surprised. It was honestly not as shabby as you thought it would be and while it could be the effects of both the alcohol in your system and the light show that was throwing you off, you had to say this was the nicest frat house you had been in. So far, you had nothing to complain about.

As Waka Flocka's "No Hands" reverberated through the pulsating house, your body instinctively moved to the infectious rhythm, the alcohol adding to the blissful sway. Suddenly, a strong arm snaked around your shoulders, and the intoxicating scent of cologne filled your senses. Your body melded snugly with theirs before they leaned in, whispering into your ear.

"What's your name?" His voice jolted you, instantly recognizable and sobering. Slowly, you turned your head to face him.

Jake fucking Sim.

Out of all the people in the world, of course, it was him. The realization seemed to mirror his own sentiment, evident from the annoyance etched across his face. Disgusted, you pushed him away, eager to distance yourself from his unwanted proximity.

"Oh, fuck no. Fuck off," you shot him a withering look, brushing at your shoulders as if trying to wipe away any remnants of his presence.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" His question only served to reinforce your belief in his sheer stupidity. You rolled your eyes, mustering up the patience to respond.

"Really, Jake? Why do you think you dumbass?" The realization hit you that Epsilon Nu was the frat Jake belonged to, instantly eroding any remaining respect you might have had for the house.

"No way you got a bid from AES," he exclaimed incredulously, disbelief radiating from his eyes. "Only hot and cool girls go AES, and obviously, you're neither."

"You've clearly become even dumber since high school 'cause it seems like you've forgotten that I'm a triple legacy," you emphasized, feeling your blood pressure rise with every passing second of the encounter.

"Whatever, get away from me," he retorted, his face still contorted with disdain, prompting a scoff to escape your lips.

"You're the one who came over to me, you asshole." With that, the two of you abruptly turned away from each other, stomping off in opposite directions, each eager to put distance between yourselves. The excitement and joy that had previously filled bid day were now replaced by a sour mood.

Leave it to Jake to ruin everything.

Jake Sim had always been a familiar presence in your life. Your parents had a long-standing friendship, even before you were born as both your mothers were AES sisters back in the day. As a child, it was no surprise that you developed a crush on him. Not only was he kind and fun to be around, but he also had an undeniable charm that made your cheeks flush with a rosy blush. So when Jake asked you to be his girlfriend with a candy ring on the first day of fourth grade, you eagerly accepted without hesitation.

The initial weeks of being Jake Sim's girlfriend were filled with happiness and excitement. Everyone was envious of you for landing one of the most popular guys in the grade above. Holding hands during recess and sharing your first kiss felt like pure bliss. But as they say, good things often come to an end. And for you, that end came crashing down when you witnessed a devastating sight that shattered your world.

There he was, on the swings, holding hands with an older girl from his grade. Your heart sank, and the weight of betrayal was almost unbearable. Overwhelmed with sadness and anger, you found yourself sobbing uncontrollably, seeking solace from your teacher, who ultimately had to call your mother to pick you up from school.

The following day, you arrived at school with tear-stained eyes and a fire burning within you. Jake Sim was going to face the consequences of his actions, and you were determined to make him pay. During recess, you spotted him on the monkey bars with that other girl, and something inside you snapped. Without thinking, you approached him from behind and pushed him off, the red haze of anger clouding your vision.

The sound of cries echoed through the air as Jake landed with a thud, clutching his arm in pain. It was an instant and unfortunate consequence of your impulsive act. However, instead of deterring him, the pain seemed to fuel his own retaliation. In a matter of seconds, he tackled you down, causing you to scrape your knees and get a bloody nose in the process. Parents were called, hospital visits were made, and the aftermath left a lasting scar on both of you.

Jake blamed you entirely for his inability to play soccer for two months, and your favorite dress was ruined, stained with blood and forever unwearable. Despite your parents' continued friendship and the physical proximity that remained between you and Jake, the damage inflicted upon your relationship was irreparable. Resentment grew, and any shared feeling between you two was one of animosity.So it would be no surprise that you spent the next couple of days before classes started holed in your dorm room not wanting to risk coming across him.

The previous year had been a period of bliss for you, as Jake had finally graduated, leaving you to enjoy your senior year without the worry of him ruining anything good in your life. When you received acceptance into HybeU, your dream school and your parents’ alma mater, you knew Jake was already a student there. However, the opportunity was too precious to pass up, and you were determined to not let him deter you from pursuing your dreams once again. Besides, the campus was vast, and the chances of running into him seemed unlikely. Little did you know, fate had other plans in store for you.

As you walked into your first class on the opening day of the semester, you couldn't help but notice a familiar figure entering the room. It didn't take long for him to spot you either, evident from the loud groans that escaped his lips. He was accompanied by an attractive guy, presumably one of his fraternity brothers. As your eyes met, a mutual eye roll ensued, and Jake wasted no time in turning to his friend, whispering animatedly while gesturing in your direction. It was all too typical of him.

However, due to the large size of your Relationship 101: College Edition class, with approximately two hundred students, you assumed that there would be no reason for the two of you to interact. If you both sat on opposite sides of the room, it would almost feel as if he wasn't even a part of the class. However, once again, it seemed that you were about to be proven severely wrong.

"As mentioned in the syllabus, this class will be graded based on attendance and the end-of-semester group project. If you attend class and adhere to the project rubric, it will be an easy A. However, even a slight deviation from those requirements will result in a poor grade. The groups for the project will now be assigned, and there will be no changes allowed," Professor Choi explained, exuding both kindness and firmness. Her instructions were clear, and you were determined to follow them to the letter.

You listened attentively as she began calling out the names of your classmates, letting people know who they would be working with for the next couple of months. The atmosphere in the room was filled with anticipation and curiosity.

"Y/N L/N and Jake Sim," Professor Choi announced. Your head snapped up, momentarily thinking you had misheard her. Groans erupted from the other side of the room once again, accompanied by laughter from Jake's friend. The whole class turned around, perplexed by the commotion that was previously missing when the names of all the other pairs were called out.

"Is there an issue here?" Professor Choi's confusion mirrored the reaction of the class as she addressed Jake.

"Uhm, kind of... I mean, I'd just prefer not working with her," Jake's blunt response triggered snickers from the class, leaving you feeling embarrassed as you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

Professor Choi's face turned stern, clearly unamused with his attitude. "Well, as I said, you will be stuck with the partner I have assigned you. It would be better for both of you to resolve whatever is going on quickly, as it would be most beneficial for your grades."

Her response silenced Jake, and both of you nodded in agreement. With that, she resumed calling out names, but the classmates continued to whisper, clearly entertained by what had just unfolded.

"So, what's up with you and him?" The girl next to you nudged you, curiosity gleaming in her big, bright eyes. Her pink hair added a vibrant touch to her friendly appearance.

You debated whether to reveal the history between you and Jake to a stranger, but she seemed harmless, so you decided to share. "Well, Jake and I have known each other our whole lives. We had a falling out when we were young, and it has lasted until now," you explained, adopting a nonchalant tone to downplay the significance of the situation.

She seemed genuinely interested, urging you to continue. "Wait, what happened?"

Letting out a sigh, you continued, "We dated in elementary school, but I caught him cheating on me so I broke his arm."

Her unexpected burst of laughter caught you off guard. "You're still beefing over something that happened before neither of you even knew how to do algebra?" You frowned slightly, annoyed that she didn't seem to take it as seriously as you had hoped.

"Well, it's not just that!" you quickly defended yourself. "After I broke his arm for cheating on me, he made it his mission to ruin my life. All through middle school and high school, I felt like I was living in a nightmare cause of him. We genuinely hate each other, which is why it's so frustrating that we now have to be partners. It's a serious issue, and if I could I would even drop the class because I don't trust him with my grade, and I can't handle being around him for a whole semester."

The pink-haired girl quickly realized the severity of the situation as she listened to your impassioned rant. "Oh, wow, this is actually a big deal. Damn, Professor Choi really set you up."

"Yeah, I'm fucked," you sighed, feeling the weight of stress settling in. Dropping the class wasn't much of an option, considering it was a requirement for your major.

"Well, if it helps, I want you to know that I'm fully on your side. Fuck that Jake guy. I mean, who even cheats? Just cause you’re a kid doesn’t excuse you’re actions!" she declared passionately, her sincerity shining through. Her words brought a smile to your face.

"Oh, wait, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Lily!" she exclaimed, extending her hand.

"Thanks, Lily. I'm Y/N, and it's nice to meet you," you responded, reciprocating the handshake. "Maybe you'll be the one who helps me maintain my sanity throughout this class," you added, half-joking and half-serious. Nonetheless, you genuinely appreciated the connection and friendship forming between you.

Throughout the rest of the class, you and Lily chatted, getting to know each other better. You discovered that she was also involved in Greek Life, a member of Nu Mu Chi, and a first-year student like yourself. The shared similarities made the conversation flow effortlessly, and you even exchanged numbers and Instagrams. Engrossed in your newfound friendship, you almost forgot about your problem. Keyword: almost.

Almost a week had passed since the first day of classes, and it was already Thursday. Fortunately, you hadn't run into Jake throughout that time. You knew that sooner or later, you would have to interact with him, but you had no issue with pushing it until the very last moment. However, you couldn't deny that the project seemed like it would take a great deal of time. Professor Choi had revealed on Wednesday that it would entail each group turning in a project that was over one of the topics she had picked out and listed on a Google Doc. She gave students a lot of freedom, allowing the project to be presented through various means like movies, websites, podcasts, or anything else the group wanted.

If you had been lucky enough to have a different partner, you would have been fully invested in this assignment, as you enjoyed showcasing your creativity through different outlets. Unfortunately, this class, due to circumstances and the partnership with Jake, was turning out to be your most challenging, even more so than physics. On the bright side, your other friends seemed to have a much better first week than you did, with nothing but good things to say about school so far.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Wonyoung asked, curling her hair at her desk, looking like a doll. In contrast, you were lounging on your lofted bed, wearing pajamas and glasses, engrossed in one of the Harry Potter movies while working on an assignment.

"Oh yeah, I'm good. I don't think I want to go to EpNu anytime soon," you replied, barely lifting your gaze from the movie.

She sighed. "You know, you shouldn't let Jake ruin everything for you. It was like this all throughout high school. Aren't you tired of it? Just come with me and the girls. We'll be with you the whole time, and you won't even remember that he was there." Her words were convincing, and EpNu's back-to-school party was known to be one of the best. However, your mind was set as you shook your head at her offer.

"I'm fine seriously. You girls go have fun. Text me if you need me to come get you anytime," you assured her, focusing your attention back on the assignment.

Wonyoung nodded, giving up on trying to convince you any further. "You look amazing. Take your shot with that cute pledge you were telling me about!" You teased her, causing her to blush before she headed out.

It was late into the night, and you were watching the last Harry Potter movie of the franchise when you received a call from Wonyoung. It seemed like she had decided to take up on your offer.

However, when you answered the call, the voice on the other end wasn't the one you were expecting.

"Hey, is this Y/N?" The male voice was barely audible over the deafening music in the background. You immediately became alert upon hearing the unfamiliar voice.

"Yes, it is. Is Wonyoung okay?" You quickly asked, getting up to put on your sweatshirt and shoes, ready to go and help your friend.

"I'm Jungwon, and I'm with Wonyoung right now. She's had a lot to drink, and I think she needs to go home. She keeps murmuring your name, so I thought you would be my best bet." By now, you were already outside your dorm, hurrying to your car, worried about your best friend.

"Okay, I'm heading there right now. Jungwon, can you keep her company until I get there?" Wonyoung had always been bad with her alcohol, and you had hoped she would pace herself, but it seemed like she hadn't.

"Yeah, of course. I'll see if I can get her a glass of water to help her sober up," you could hear the concern in his voice through the music, and you were relieved that she wasn't alone.

You reached the house in record time, and from the outside, the party looked like absolute chaos, with a massive crowd inside. At the door, a tall boy stood manning the door, almost like a guard dog for the frat. You barely spared him a glance though, as you were focused on your mission, not knowing where to start inside the massive house. Your attempts to call Wonyoung went unanswered, indicating that her phone was likely dead.

As you weaved through the sweaty bodies, you finally spotted a familiar face. Winter was lounging on one of the couches with a group of sisters and unfamiliar faces.

"Winter!" You rushed over to her.

"Oh my god, you're here!" Winter, clearly having had a few drinks, was even more energetic than usual. She pulled you into a hug before turning to introduce you to everyone.

"Everyone, meet Y/N! She was my rush crush! I love her so much; she's like a little me!" Winter still hadn't let you go, and everyone greeted you. While you appreciated her enthusiasm in making you feel welcome, you were more focused on finding your friend than meeting new people.

"Hey, nice to meet you all," you greeted them briefly, lacking the energy they were exuding. "Has anyone seen Wonyoung? She's my best friend, and I'm here to pick her up. She's tall, pretty, and has long hair," you gestured with your hand, indicating her approximate height. "I think she was with Jungwon?" You hoped that providing this additional information might jog their memories, but they shook their heads.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I haven't seen her since she came up to the main level with Jungwon. Oh! Maybe Jake will know! Jake, come over here!" Winter called out, spotting a familiar figure. You wanted to object, but you decided to prioritize finding your friend over your issues with Jake.

As Winter enthusiastically waved at him, Jake noticed your presence and briefly squinted his eyes annoyed you were here before turning back to Winter. "What's up?"

"Y/N here is looking for her bestie Wonyoung, who was last seen with Jungwon. I was wondering if you knew where they might be?" Winter explained.

You could tell he was retracing his memory as it took him a second before responding. "Oh, actually, I might know where they are." He didn't wait for you to follow, immediately turning and walking in a direction. You quickened your pace to keep up with his longer strides.

He headed towards what you remembered as the kitchen, and you were correct, seeing a group of people surrounding a box of pizza and various alcohol stashes. However, Jake continued walking past them, toward a door located at the back. Without hesitation, you followed him, entering what seemed like a secondary kitchen. The room contained drink machines, pantry shelves and an industrial sized refrigerator that made you wonder what it held, but the room itself was dark and empty. Both you and Jake appeared surprised by this unexpected outcome. They weren't here.

"I thought they'd be here," Jake softly murmured, turning to you. Upon closer observation, you noticed that he, too, seemed slightly intoxicated and possibly high, with bloodshot eyes.

Letting out a frustrated huff, you expressed your displeasure at the wasted time. "Well, clearly they aren't. Can you think of anywhere else they might be?"

He took a moment to ponder, and with your patience wearing thin, you were about to walk out when you noticed a flicker in his eyes. Suddenly, he grabbed your wrist and swiftly led you back to the main room. Confusion washed over you, as physical interactions with Jake were rare. Nevertheless, you followed his lead as he pulled you up the stairs, realizing that he was likely taking you to Jungwon's room. It dawned on you that checking there should have been your first instinct.

The room you arrived at was down a corridor, and without bothering to knock, Jake barged in.

His intuition had been correct, as you spotted two figures inside. One was hunched over a trashcan, vomiting, while the other held their hair back.

"Oh, fuck, Wonyoung!" You quickly rushed to your friend's side, ready to help her in her vulnerable state.

"Oh, thank god you're here," Jungwon let out a sigh of relief. It dawned on you that this was the first time you were meeting the boy your friend had been eyeing since they met at the party on bid day.

"Yeah, sorry it took so long. We couldn't find you guys, but thanks for being here with her," you quickly thanked him.

Wonyoung seemed to have stopped throwing up and quieted down. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and turned to you, slurring your name. "Y/N?"

"Yeah, Won, I'm here. Let's get you home," you said, attempting to help her up. However, her lanky body proved difficult to move.

You had momentarily forgotten about Jake, but you were quickly reminded of his presence as he reached out to assist you and Jungwon in lifting your friend.

"Here, let us handle her. You should probably make sure she has everything," he suggested. Following his advice, you spotted her phone on the side of what appeared to be Jungwon's desk. Your assumption was correct; it was out of battery.

The boys carefully guided Wonyoung down the stairs, and you could hear her softly murmuring nonsensically. You were certain your friend would be embarrassed by this situation when she woke up the next morning, but that was a problem for later.

As the four of you reached your car, you opened the back seat while Jungwon took charge of ensuring Wonyoung got in safely and buckled up.

You turned to Jake and, though reluctant, couldn't help but admit that you would have never found her without his help. "Thanks, Jake."

Jake seemed unaccustomed to hearing your gratitude and brushed it off quickly. "It's fine. Anyone would have done the same," he responded, his tone almost shy. Before you could make any further comments, the car door slammed shut.

"Hey, can you have her text me in the morning so I know she's okay?" Jungwon's concern was still evident, and you mentally noted your approval of the boy your friend seemed interested in. He seemed to be one of the good ones.

"Yes, of course. Seriously, Jungwon, thanks so much for taking care of her. It was nice to meet you," you said before getting into the car.

"Nice to meet you too, Y/N. Drive safe and good night!" Jungwon bid farewell as you drove off. Through the rearview window, you thought you spotted Jake giving you a small wave, but you decided to brush it off as your eyes deceiving you.

Your assumptions proved correct as the next morning, while you were in the midst of getting ready for class, your roommate woke up. To your surprise, she remembered much more than you had anticipated, and she was clearly horrified by her actions.

"What if he never talks to me ever again?" Wonyoung groaned, her head buried underneath her pillow. However, you highly doubted that outcome, considering how genuinely worried and caring Jungwon had been last night. It was clear that he was just as smitten with her as she was with him.

"Stop being stupid. Just text him, and it'll be fine," you assured her, relaying Jungwon's request from the previous night. With a spritz of perfume, you finally felt ready to head to class. You assumed your friend, who was still sulking in bed, planned on skipping. However, you had no choice but to attend, as your Relationship 101 class had mandatory attendance.

You liked to arrive early to class, so it was a surprise to see a figure sitting in the seat you usually occupied when you walked in. Jake, who was notorious for being late or arriving just on time, being here so early was highly unusual. He wore a cozy-looking hoodie and appeared tired, likely due to the party. Feeling skeptical, you cautiously approached your usual desk, mindful of Jake's presence.

As if sensing your arrival, Jake turned his head towards you the moment you reached your desk. He seemed to be nursing a mild hangover, squinting slightly at the change in lighting.

"Good morning, Y/N," he greeted you. It took you a moment to process his words, considering it had been a while since he had greeted you, let alone said anything that wasn't an insult.

Not letting your guard down, you replied with a curt greeting before settling into the seat beside him. Just as you were about to ask him why he was in your seat, he beat you to it.

"I know you're probably wondering why I'm in your seat, but I thought about it yesterday after you left and figured it would actually help us get a good grade in this class if we worked together, like Professor Choi mentioned. Since it's a required course for my major and it doesn't seem like we can convince her to assign us, different partners, we'll have to suck it up," he explains, his voice lacking its usual cockiness and sounding surprisingly sincere. This newfound maturity in Jake catches you off guard.

"Same here. It's required for my major too," you respond, realizing that he might be in the same department as you. What would be the chances? "And yeah, I expected us to have this conversation eventually, but I didn't think it would be today, especially since it's only the end of the first week of classes. Honestly, I didn’t even think you’d care about this that much."

"Well, contrary to what you might believe, I actually take my grades seriously, and I'd rather start now and aim for a good grade than procrastinate and fail," he retorts, sounding annoyed by your comment. "Besides, the more work we finish quickly, the less time we'll have to spend with each other."

His words made sense, and you couldn’t really argue against them. "Yeah... I guess you're right. I can't afford to fail this class either. But if we keep getting on each other's nerves and fighting like we usually do, I don't see how we'll get anything done."

"Are you really so prideful that you can't put your ego aside for an hour to work with me? It's literally about your grade," Jake's tone was starting to irritate you as he made it seem like you were the sole instigator in your rocky relationship.

"Fuck you, Jake. Clearly, I'm not the only one with ego issues since you've willingly participated in our fights as well," you retorted, rolling your eyes. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, neither willing to speak, fearing that it would escalate the situation further.

Finally, you sighed and gave in, realizing that Jake had no intention of breaking the silence. "How about this? We dedicate a few hours each week to working on this project and during that time, we promise to genuinely try to work together—for the sake of our grade. Outside of those hours, we can go back to how we usually are and not interact at all."

For the first time in a long while, Jake seemed to have no comeback for your suggestion. It even actually appeared to look as if he was considering it as he slowly nodded his head. "Okay, fine. I guess I can do that."

“Glad we could come to an agreement, now can you go back to your seat? Our agreement doesn’t extend over to us being seatmates.”

The two of you had agreed to meet at the library the following Wednesday, and as you expected, Jake was running late. It was already thirty minutes past 7, and you were seething with anger. As you started packing up your belongings, preparing to leave, you heard heavy footsteps approaching from behind.

"Hey," Jake said nonchalantly as he sat down in front of you. His casual attitude made your eye twitch. Didn't he realize that you had been waiting for him for half an hour?

"Hey? That's all you've got to say? You're 30 minutes late!" Frustration surged within you, pushing you closer to your boiling point.

He simply shrugged. "Sorry, I guess." His lackadaisical response caused you to stand up from your seat in anger.

"You do realize that I have other things to do, right? You literally just wasted my time! You're so fucking selfish. You could've at least texted me. Whatever, I can't do this with you," you fumed, turning around to leave the desk.

But before you could make your escape, you felt a hand grabbing your wrist, preventing you from leaving.

"Wait, Y/N, stop. Practice ran late, and I came straight here without checking my phone. Seriously, I'm sorry," he explained, his hand still wrapped around your wrist.

Sighing, you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to calm down your anger before responding. You were only letting it slide as he seemed genuine. "Fine, just please don't let it happen again, or at least send me a text. I'll let it slide this once because I don't want to start our sessions on a bad note."

Jake nodded, and you put down your bag, taking a seat again.

"So, have you thought about what you want to do? I checked the topic list, and there are a couple that I think we could consider. The hookup culture topic seems the most fun and interesting though, especially because there's a section on Greek Life. Since we're both involved, I was thinking that we could maybe provide a more nuanced perspective," Jake suggested. It didn't surprise you that he was interested in that particular topic, given his reputation as a serial playboy. He probably had a PhD in hookup culture with the number of girls he had been involved with. However, the subset of Greek Life did intrigue you too, as it would allow you to draw from personal experience.

"I haven't gone through the list yet, but that does sound interesting," you quickly pulled up the document and realized that this topic would probably the most entertaining to research.

"Yeah, I'm fine with us choosing that. Maybe we can do a podcast, as it would be an easy way to voice our opinions and share examples from our personal lives." Jake nodded, liking your suggestion. He was quite a talker so he had no problems with having to record a couple of episodes.

"Sounds good to me. We can start researching now and create a solid outline to determine how many episodes we'll need to cover everything thoroughly. The campus radio station has equipment that students can borrow, so we don't have to worry about that," Jake suggested.

Both of you immediately began your research by accessing the library database and looking up relevant articles and books on the chosen topic.

"What's your major? You mentioned earlier that this class is a requirement for you, and it is for me too. I was curious," you decide to finally ask the question that had been on your mind since last Friday.

"I'm majoring in Human Development and Family Sciences and I’m in pre-nursing. Ultimately, I want to become a nurse, specializing in pediatrics. So I thought this major would be a good fit," Jake replied. His choice of major was unexpected, considering you had assumed he would be more of a business bro like the majority of fraternity members tended to be.

"Damn, that's not at all what I was expecting. I'm actually in the same major, although I'm more inclined towards becoming a family therapist," you shared. It was a surprise to both of you that you were pursuing the same field of study. Perhaps you and Jake had more in common than either of you had initially thought.

"What classes are you taking right now?" Jake continued the conversation, clearly invested.

"Other than this one, I'm taking Human Geography, English Literature, and Intro to Physics," you replied, noticing Jake's interest piquing at the mention of the last class.

"You're taking physics? How are you liking it? I took that last year and I'm currently in the seminar class for it. It's definitely one of my favorite classes," Jake shared, surprising you with his nonchalant tone and genuine enthusiasm.

"You like physics? Why?" you asked, genuinely curious and somewhat taken aback. His passion for the subject seemed almost foreign to you.

"I don’t know, It's just something I enjoy. I mean I've always found it fascinating. I liked it even in high school," Jake explained, his enthusiasm evident. It became clear that he had a genuine love for physics, and you couldn't help but feel a tinge of envy, considering your struggles with the subject.

"Wanna do my homework for me then? I think I'm going to fail," you joked, expecting a dismissive response. To your surprise though, Jake seemed to be genuinely considering your offer.

"I mean, yeah, I could probably help you. Who's your professor? I had Professor Song last year," Jake offered, surprising you once again. You had been seeking help from anyone willing, but finding someone competent enough to assist you and go over the subject was proving to be a challenge, as it seemed physics was universally disliked.

"I have Professor Song too, but you're joking, right?" You were desperate enough to consider getting help from Jake, but it seemed almost too good to be true.

"No, I'm serious, I promise. I think I ended that class with an A last year," Jake assured you, displaying a side of himself that contradicted any preconceived notions you had about him.

"Okay, yeah, that would actually be so much help. Thanks," you expressed your gratitude, and with a nod from Jake, the two of you resumed working on the project.

What was happening? Within just an hour, you not only had a civil conversation with Jake, but he had even offered to help you with your schoolwork. However, this didn't mean that the two of you would suddenly become best friends. After all, a decade-long feud couldn't be resolved with a single conversation.

Every week since that Wednesday, you and Jake had agreed to meet up once a week to work on the project and for him to provide you with tutoring. You had to admit that this schedule was working quite well, although it still presented challenges. You and Jake would bicker more often than not, and his talent for getting on your nerves hadn't disappeared. However, your relationship with him was nowhere near as tumultuous as it had been for most of your life. In fact, you had even decided to attend the mixer that your sorority was organizing with EpNu tonight.

"And he even brought me coffee to my first class today! He's perfect," Wonyoung gushed, practically melting as she recounted what Jungwon had done for her. Ever since the party at EpNu, Wonyoung's relationship with Jungwon had been progressing, as she had even met his parents a couple of days ago and it seemed like they were on the verge of making it official. It warmed your heart to see her so happy.

"That's adorable! I can't believe you found such a great guy, especially considering he's a frat boy," Yujin, your sorority sister and next-door neighbor, commented while searching for her misplaced vape that she always seemed to be losing.

"It's behind the futon, Yujin," you helped her out before turning back to Wonyoung. "Yeah, seriously, Won, I'm glad he's treating you well. And if he ever does anything wrong, he probably knows that I'll give him a good beating or something, but it's still sweet."

"Yeah, I can't wait to see him tonight. Honestly, I'm just happy that you've overcome your fear of EpNu and decided to join us. I mean, we've been to mixers with other houses before, but trust me, they don't compare to EpNu. There's just something different about them," Wonyoung expressed her excitement.

An '80s Aspen-themed mixer between AES and EpNu was happening tonight, and even though you had sworn to never attend any event involving Jake's fraternity, your improved relationship with him during the past month working on the project made you reconsider. Outside of your study sessions, you still had to restrain yourself from getting into fights with him, but your tolerance for him seemed to have made an improvement, even if it was minuscule. Besides, the theme sounded too fun to pass up.

"Wonyoung, you're just biased because of your lover boy. But I do have to admit, they really do go all out. No wonder they're top tier here. And let's not forget about all the hot boys. I mean, Y/N, remember when you almost fainted a couple of weeks ago when you saw Heeseung at Starbucks? I swear she was drooling like a dog in heat," Yujin chimed in, playfully teasing you. You rolled your eyes at her remark, but she had a point so you let it slide as you accepted the shooter she handed your way. There was no denying that you really did have a hard time breathing for awhile after seeing EpNu’s president while getting your coffee.

One of the boys from the frat offered to pick you guys up from the dorms, so you and the girls headed downstairs in your neon ski outfits, making a quick stop to pick up another one of your sisters, Yuna, who lived on the floor below.

Beomgyu, as expected from EpNu, was incredibly attractive, and he drove a Tesla. So you had no problem accepting the passenger seat.

"Hey, I don't think we've met yet. I'm Beomgyu," the boy turned to you with a smile.

He was so cute that you almost forgot to respond, but you managed to introduce yourself. "Hey Beomgyu, nice to meet you, and thanks for picking us up. I'm Y/N." He shook your hand and flashed another smile before heading towards the house.

Your phone buzzed, and when you checked it, Wonyoung had sent you a text. "Seems like you have a good chance of getting lucky tonight ;) He's cute, and you're into older guys, so it sounds like a perfect match."

You rolled your eyes in amusement. You definitely weren’t opposed to what she was suggesting.

The house was noticeably different from your last visit, as it seemed less chaotic. The interior was adorned with fake snow and blue decorations, and everyone was dressed according to the theme. You couldn't help but be impressed by the level of dedication EpNu had shown, surpassing any other fraternity on campus.

Wonyoung quickly separated from the group bidding everyone a goodbye, before running off eager to find Jungwon. As she ran away, Beomgyu turned to you before offering you a drink. You, of course, accepted.

"You've probably been to the kitchen before, but let me share a secret with you," Beomgyu said, guiding you past the kitchen towards a familiar door at the back. "You probably haven’t been here before, but this is where we usually stash the good stuff that we don't want to share with everyone else."

You remembered the back room where you and Jake had searched for Wonyoung and Jungwon, and like last time, it was empty. "Actually, Jake showed me this room last time I was here, but he never mentioned this was where you boys stored all the good stuff."

"Wait, why were you guys back here then if not for the drinks?" Beomgyu furrowed his eyebrows.

"We were looking for Wonyoung and Jungwon," you explained.

"Oh, okay," he replied, not entirely convinced but choosing to brush it off. Beomgyu opened the industrial-sized fridge, revealing it to be fully stocked with drinks.

Your eyes lit up with excitement, prompting Beomgyu to laugh. "Go ahead, take your pick." You didn't need any further encouragement as you reached for a peach High Noon, thrilled to see your favorite (and very overpriced) drink available.

"Thanks, this is awesome! High Noons are my favorite, but I rarely go out and buy them cause I just can't justify spending $10 on a four-pack," you remarked. Beomgyu laughed at your reasoning while also grabbing the same drink before leading you back out.

It seemed like your entire sorority had decided to attend the mixer, as you noticed sisters constantly arriving through the front door. While mingling with others in the main room, you met numerous new people.

The tall boy you had seen at the door on your previous visit turned out to be a pledge named Niki, who greeted you warmly with a hug. You could tell he was already plastered. You were also introduced to Sunghoon, a brother you had actually known of as his striking looks had garnered much talk amongst your sisters. However, you decided to keep your distance from him after simple introductions due to the rumors of his alleged knack for getting people pregnant (Winter’s friend?). Getting pregnant in college was definitely not on your bucket list so it was better to be safe than sorry. And, of course, you were officially introduced to the EpNu president, who once again left you feeling a bit lightheaded with how hot he was. Fortunately, the alcohol in your system had loosened your nerves enough for you to at least exchange names.

Throughout the night, you and Beomgyu got significantly closer since he seemed to stick by your side, occasionally whispering things that made you laugh while wrapping his arms around your waist. Perhaps Wonyoung was right — it seemed like you had a decent chance with the older boy.

While you were enjoying yourself, from the other side of the room Jake was in a sour mood as he was sporting a frown. He had a rough time at practice and Jay had been talking his ear off all night. Jake loved his brother but wished more than anything that he would go bother Ningning instead. He wasn't in the mood to entertain Jay's chatter. As his eyes scanned the room, Jake's attention was quickly drawn to you and Beomgyu, who appeared to be getting quite close. He didn't even know that you knew each other, but for some reason, the sight bothered him deepening his frown. When he saw Beomgyu's lips meet yours, he found himself speed-walking in your direction before he could even stop himself.

"Hey, Y/N, can I talk to you about something?" Jake's familiar voice interrupted, causing you and Beomgyu to separate. You shot Jake a glare, annoyed that he was once again ruining something for you. However, his face was sporting an unfamiliar serious expression that caught your attention.

"Uh, yeah, okay. I'll come find you after, Beomgyu," you said, turning to the boy you had just been kissing before following Jake. He led you towards the hidden room at the back of the kitchen.

As expected, the room was empty, and Jake faced you with a serious look in his eyes. "You know Beomgyu has chlamydia, right?"

Those words made your jaw drop, and your eyes widened as any previous effects from the alcohol vanished. "What?" you practically screamed, struggling to comprehend what he had just said.

"Uh, yeah, I probably have no place telling you that, but I thought you should know though, especially since it seemed to be getting pretty heated between you two," Jake said, avoiding eye contact as guilt washed over him. Beomgyu didn't actually have chlamydia and he was silently praying that his friend would never find out about what he told you. He knew he was an asshole for lying about something like this but he was convinced that his reasons justified his actions.

Jake and Beomgyu were like two peas in a pod, and Jake knew him better than anyone. They were essentially the same person, boasting the highest body count among their brothers. Jake was well aware of how Beomgyu treated girls, and despite his lingering resentment towards you, he felt it would be cruel to let you become just another conquest for Beomgyu.

You were still in shock for a few seconds, as all thoughts of Beomgyu instantly vanished from your mind. Would he have continued with you and never mentioned his condition if Jake hadn't interrupted? The disdain you had for Jake earlier was now replaced with a deep sense of gratitude towards your childhood enemy.

It took you a moment to find your voice. "Jake..." Your words trailed off, as you were still shaken by the realization of what could have happened that night. In that moment, you knew there was only one appropriate response.

A hug from you was the last thing Jake expected, and he stood frozen, unsure of how to react. The last time you had hugged him was back in fourth grade when you were dating, and his body seemed to have forgotten how to respond to physical touch from you. It felt like an eternity before you finally pulled away.

“Thanks, Jake seriously, I know we’ve never had a good relationship but this semester is slowly showing me that maybe I’ve judged you too harshly,” and hearing these words from you left Jake blushing the rest of the night.

However, this wouldn’t last as Monday rolled around and the second he stepped into class, he was met with the sight of your furious self storming towards him, with Beomgyu by your side. Oh God, he was fucked.

You spent the rest of Friday night sticking close to your friends, hoping to avoid Beomgyu for the remainder of the evening. When Saturday came around, you found yourself recounting the events of the previous night to Winter (who you were now pretty sure was going to be your big), when she took you out on a lunch date. As you shared the story, Winter's eyes widened with surprise.

"Wait, hold on. What?" Winter's eyes bulged as she struggled to comprehend what you were telling her. Beomgyu was a good friend of hers and they ran in similar circles, so she was utterly perplexed by what she was hearing.

"Yeah, I know, isn’t it so fucked up? I mean, he must have known that we were likely going to hook up, or at least that I was down. The fact that he didn't mention anything and continued to initiate things is insane to me. I may have hated Jake for most of my life, but at least he's not the kind of jerk who would let me sleep with someone who has an STD." You were still heated about the situation and continued to rant, unaware that Winter's surprise stemmed from something else.

"Y/N, hold on. I don't think Beomgyu has chlamydia." Your words came to a halt in the middle of your sentence. What?

"He's a really close friend of mine, and if any of us knew he had something as significant as an STD, it would have spread among our group. Sure, he's a whore, but he's also careful and would never engage in a sex without disclosing that information, he’s not that much of an asshole. I'm really confused now." The confusion on your face mirrored Winter's words.

"Was Jake just mistaken, then? Or maybe Beomgyu only told Jake because it's not something you'd be eager to share with everyone," you pondered, but Winter shook her head, dismissing both possibilities.

"Let me call Beomgyu right now to confirm because I truly don't think this is true." You agreed, realizing that the only way to clarify the situation was to speak directly with Beomgyu.

As soon as Winter posed the question to Beomgyu, you could almost sense the offense in his voice as he vehemently denied it.

"Wait, wait, wait. Jake told you this? Is that why he pulled you aside last night, and then you avoided me like the plague?" The three of you were now embarked on a mission to uncover what might have prompted Jake to share this information, considering Beomgyu was one of his close friends.

"Maybe he just didn't want you two to be together because he hates Y/N and doesn't want his friend involved with her?" By now, the phone call transitioned to a Facetime video, and you could see Beomgyu shaking his head in frustration.

"Then why the fuck would he make up something about me and not about her? I mean, I didn't even know who she was until last night, hell, I didn’t even know they knew each other until Y/N told me that Jake had already shown her the private kitchen!" Beomgyu was practically seething at this point, but Winter turned her attention to you.

"Jake showed you the backroom kitchen?" Winter's question (that she practically screamed out) caught you off guard, as you struggled to see its relevance to the situation. "That's where the EpNu boys take girls to hook up!" Ah, now it all made sense.

"Wait, what?" Confusion overwhelmed you. "I swear, I didn't do anything with him! I would never! Wait, then why did you take me back there?" Beomgyu's face flushed red as your question was now directed towards him.

"Well, uh, I mean, I didn't actually take you there to, like, do anything with you. It was just to give you a drink and maybe plant a seed in your head so that we'd go back for more drinks and, you know, maybe something would happen then?" Winter rolled her eyes at her friend's explanation. It was all too typical of Beomgyu's behavior, but that was the least of everyone’s problems right now.

"Okay, whatever, that's beside the point. Why did Jake take you there then?" Winter redirected the conversation, refocusing everyone's attention on the problem at hand.

"To find Wonyoung and Jungwon! Oh my god, is that why you looked like you didn’t believe me when I told you that yesterday?" Beomgyu nodded while Winter let out a sigh.

"Y/N, do you think there's any possibility that Jake likes you? Maybe he got jealous seeing you with Beomgyu and told you this lie in the hopes that you would stay away?" Beomgyu gasped dramatically as if Winter had just uncovered the truth.

Your reaction, however, was quite different, as you shrieked in disbelief. "No way!" The idea that Jake had orchestrated this entire situation out of jealousy seemed far-fetched to you. There was absolutely no way.

Little did you know though, Winter had actually cracked the code. Jake's actions were indeed driven by jealousy, even though he himself was unaware of the true motives behind his behavior.

And now, here he was, facing the consequences of his actions. You and Beomgyu had (quite literally) dragged him into an empty classroom next door, and he felt like a child being caught in trouble by his parents.

"Explain," Beomgyu's stern voice was all Jake needed to hear to understand the gravity of the situation.

"I'm sorry!" Jake's inability to handle pressure became evident once again, as a single glare from you made him crumble. "I just saw you two together and thought it would be a terrible match. I mean, seriously, bro, out of all people, her?" He realized he was only digging himself deeper by insulting you.

"I mean, come on! She's like the absolute worst! The actual devil incarnate, and I can't have my best mate being involved with her!" Jake's attempts at persuasion fell flat, as neither you nor Beomgyu were buying any of his bullshit.

"Then why did you make up a lie about me instead of her?" Beomgyu's frustration reached its peak, leaving Jake spluttering, unable to come up with a satisfactory answer.

It became clear that both you and Beomgyu were done with Jake. Beomgyu finally put an end to his blubbering. "Dude, just stop. If you were interested in her, you should have just told me. I would have respected the bro code and backed off. But what you did was beyond fucked up, man. I don't even know if I want to see you around anymore, at least not for a while. Just stay away and try not to fuck things up even more. This could have gone so bad for me." With that, Beomgyu stormed off, not sparing Jake a single glance.

Meanwhile, you remained behind, still looking at Jake, but with a different expression in your eyes. It was disappointment that he saw, and it made Jake feel sick to his core. "I've always known you were a shit person ever since you cheated on me as a kid, but this time you've crossed the line. Don't bother trying to talk to me ever again." With those words, you followed after Beomgyu, leaving Jake to sit alone, grappling with the repercussions of his actions.

You weren't joking about not wanting to see him, as Jake waited for hours at your usual spot in the library, hoping against hope that you would show up. But there was no sign of you. The drive back to his fraternity house was filled with silence, as regret coursed through him. Jake couldn't wrap his head around his own actions. The flimsy excuse he had concocted while lying to you now seemed utterly nonsensical, and shame engulfed him.

The dynamics within EpNu were strained as well. Everyone was well aware of the situation and how Jake had betrayed one of his closest friends and brothers. He could sense the judgment radiating from the pledges, which only amplified his feelings of patheticness.

"It's going to take some time, but I know Beomgyu's not cruel enough to ice you out forever. Personally, I would have probably beaten the shit out of you, but I guess Beomgyu's a much better person than I am," Jay nonchalantly remarked while engrossed in playing Animal Crossing on his Switch.

Sunghoon kicked the chair that Jay was occupying, rolling his eyes at his friend's lack of sincerity. "You're not helping him. Look, you're only making him more depressed," Sunghoon nudged the back of Jay's chair once again, gesturing toward Jake's huddled figure underneath his comforter. "Jake, dude, you just have to rip the bandaid off and apologize. Sincerely."

Sunghoon's words struck a chord with Jake. He hadn't properly apologized yet, as neither you nor Beomgyu had given him the opportunity to do so. But he had to keep trying.

The lack of response from Jake's bundled-up figure made Sunghoon sigh. He had been moping like this for hours, and Sunghoon was growing tired of it. Jay, though seemingly less concerned, also still cared about his best friend.

Out of nowhere, Jake felt his emotional support comforter being yanked away from his body, and then he was forcefully dragged off his bed. While his bed wasn't that high, the impact of hitting the floor still hurt quite a bit.

"What the fuck!" he yelled at the instigator. However, Sunghoon remained unfazed and continued in his attempts to lift Jake, who showed no intention of getting up from the floor.

"Jesus, why are you so heavy? You're not even that tall," Sunghoon remarked, making Jake whip his head around in annoyance at the taller boy’s jab.

"Get off of me, dude. Let me be. I deserve to be on the floor like the trash I am. Pure basura," Jake moped, continuing to resist Sunghoon's efforts, which showed no signs of relenting.

Suddenly, another pair of arms joined in, as Jay decided to step in and help Sunghoon. The sound of bodies hitting the floor and yells filled the hallway as the three of them engaged in a wrestling match. Unfortunately for Jake, he was fighting a losing battle against two taller and gym-obsessed individuals. After a brief struggle, they easily dragged him towards a specific door.

"Leave me alone! Go bother your girlfriends or something! Seriously, stop!" Jake's pleas fell on deaf ears as Jay held him down and covered his mouth, while Sunghoon knocked on the door with urgency.

They had intentionally dragged him all the way to the other side of the house, where Beomgyu and Taehyun's room was located.

The moment the door swung open and Beomgyu and Taehyun saw the scene before them, it was immediately slammed shut. Undeterred, Sunghoon continued knocking, persistently and loudly.

"Go away!" someone shouted from the other side of the door, but Sunghoon refused to give up, intensifying his knocking.

"We're going to stay here until one of you opens the door!" Jay yelled back, still holding Jake down, who was desperately trying to squirm free.

Once again, the door was yanked open, but this time it wasn't instantly shut. "What do you want?" Taehyun's intimidating glare sent shivers down Jake's spine. In contrast to his cute appearance, Taehyun was definitely someone Jake didn’t want to mess with.

“He’s got something to say to your friend,” and with this, Sunghoon barged into their room pushing Taehyun aside which allowed for Jay to push Jake inside as he also followed suit and shut the door behind him.

Whilst the room itself wasn’t that small when it housed two people, with five grown boys in it though, it was becoming uncomfortable, especially with the stare Taehyun was continuing to give him. Beomgyu seemed to be looking anywhere but at him, obviously still pissed, and Sunghoon elbowed Jake in an attempt to get him to start talking.

“Ahem well, uh uhm so uh well,” Jake’s stuttering instantly got Jay groaning in what seemed to be a mixture of disappointment and embarrassment at his friend’s lack of poise.

“Jesus Christ, just get out,” this was the first time they had heard Beomgyu’s voice and he was clearly annoyed that Jake had gone against his wishes of wanting to be left alone.

This however seemed to get Jake to finally compose his thoughts and actually speak. “Wait, wait, wait. Just hear me out.”

Silence filled the room for a couple of seconds before Beomgyu finally let out a sigh signaling for Jake to continue.

"Okay, to start off, Beomgyu, I want to apologize sincerely. I understand that this might not mean much to you at the moment, and I don't expect you to forgive me right away, if ever. But I believe this is the least you deserve. I truly am sorry. You're one of my close friends, and I have no excuse for my actions. I keep replaying that night in my mind, searching for a reasonable explanation, but I can't find one. You were right, Beomgyu. If this had become public knowledge, it could have had serious consequences for you, and I deeply regret putting you in that situation." Jake maintained eye contact with Beomgyu, his voice reflecting his sincerity.

"I want you to understand that I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, even if it means giving you the space and time you need. You should know that you mean a lot to me, and I appreciate you hearing me out today." The room fell silent as everyone's gaze turned to Beomgyu, waiting for his response.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly for Jake until Beomgyu finally spoke. "You're right. I can't forgive you right away because what you did was seriously fucked up. However, I appreciate your apology. It shows that you regret your actions and that our friendship still matters to you."

Though he hadn't completely reconciled with his friend, Jake felt a sense of victory. Prior to today, he hadn't even been able to approach Beomgyu, let alone have a conversation with him. He would take whatever progress he could get. He was genuinely committed to working hard to restore the trust between them.

With a nod, he stood up and made his way towards the door, his two friends following closely behind. However, just as he was about to leave, he heard his name being called.

"If you genuinely can't understand why you did what you did, then you're even more oblivious than I gave you credit for. Think about what I told you the last time we spoke; it might provide some clarity." Jake was well aware of what Beomgyu was alluding to, but he struggled to come to terms with the harsh reality.

Had he really betrayed his friend for a girl? Even worse, not just any girl, but you?

This newfound revelation continued to haunt Jake in the following weeks. It didn’t help that, reaching out to you proved to be a much more challenging task compared to Beomgyu. Unlike Beomgyu, who lived with him, you were not in close proximity. Since the last time he saw you, you had blocked him on all platforms, and whenever he attempted to approach you, you (along with your friends) never gave him the slightest chance to speak. As time passed, he found himself gradually losing his sanity and sleep over you. He couldn’t understand how he could go from hating you all his life to suddenly developing a crush on you within a couple months. Like there was no explanation behind it and that was putting him in misery.

"Ugh, that creep showed up again, but I told him to fuck off," Lily remarked with a hint of annoyance as you got to your usual seat. Ever since that first day, you had become close with Lily, and after confiding in her about what had happened, she became fiercely protective of you. She acted like a guard dog, ready to bite at any moment, scaring Jake away whenever he tried to approach you in class.

You rolled your eyes in response to Jake's persistence. "I thought he would have given up by now."

Before Lily could reply, Professor Choi's voice cut through the conversation.

"I assume everyone remembered to submit your project proposal papers by last night?" Professor Choi's words caused you to audibly gasp, drawing the attention of a few heads.

Unfortunately, you had completely forgotten about the deadline, and judging by Jake's reaction from across the room, it seemed he had too. Dealing with Physics on your own since you had let go of your previous tutor had kept you busy. Although you had performed well on the test for that class the previous day, you had compromised your grade in this particular assignment, and you felt like crying.

The next hour, you tuned out Professor Choi's lecture, feeling down as you hurriedly wrote up the proposal in hopes to submit it, even though it would likely be graded as late. You knew your grade would still suffer but it was better than a zero.

Just then, your phone buzzed next to you. It was a message from Winter. "Jake wants me to ask if you turned in the project proposal."

You huffed, realizing that you couldn't solely blame Jake for not submitting the project proposal since you hadn't done so either. As it was a group project, you shared the responsibility, but you still felt annoyed that it meant you would likely have to confront him face to face about it.

It took you quite a while to gather the courage and suppress your pride before finally getting out of your car and arriving at the EpNu house. In the daylight, the house appeared entirely different, and you felt a sense of intimidation, especially since you came alone. Standing in front of the door, you contemplated whether to knock or simply enter when the door suddenly swung open, relieving you of your dilemma.

"Oh, hello? I didn't realize someone was at the door. How can I help you?" The boy who greeted you seemed familiar, but you couldn't recall his name.

He had an angelic look about him, which caught you off guard as he appeared quite different from the typical EpNu boys. Don't get it wrong, he was undoubtedly handsome, but compared to the likes of Jake, Jay, Heeseung, and even Niki, he exuded an almost innocent aura.

"Um, I was just wondering if Jake is here?" you asked timidly, feeling a bit embarrassed about your question.

The boy smiled angelically again and pointed upwards. "Yeah, Jake hyung is in his room. It's the first one on the left. Oh, by the way, I'm Sunoo! Nice to meet you. I think I've seen you before. Are you an AES?"

"Thanks, and yes, I am! Nice to meet you, Sunoo. I'm Y/N," you replied, unable to hide your delight. His friendly demeanor helped alleviate your previous nervousness.

"Of course! I have to go to class now, but hopefully, I'll see you around again!" Sunoo waved before departing.

As you made your way in the direction he had indicated, you noticed that the house was surprisingly quiet. Finding Jake's room wasn't difficult, and you said a little prayer before mustering up the courage to knock on the door.

It took a while before you could hear any movement from inside the room, and after a couple of seconds, the door finally swung open.

Jake's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you standing there. You were the last person he expected to find at his door.

"Hey, Y/N. Uh, what are you doing here?" Jake asked, clearly confused but still letting you in.

"I submitted a terribly written and rushed proposal that I wrote during class, hoping it would be enough to atleast get us some points. I think we need to discuss what we're going to do with the project," you explained, taking note of the slight messiness of Jake's room, with some clothes scattered on the floor. It seemed he had a roommate who was currently out, and the room’s layout seemed similar to Jungwon's room.

"Oh yeah, thanks so much for doing that. Sorry that I forgot too and yeah, I think we should work on it together again. But, Y/N, can I just start by—" Jake began, but you interrupted him.

"Jake, just stop. I'm not interested in hearing you out. I don't plan on being friends with you, and I'm only here because we're assigned to work as partners. I think it would be best if we changed our plan and just created a website or something. It might be the easiest option, allowing us to work on it separately. Let's split the work in half and focus on our respective parts, so we don't have to meet up," you stated firmly, noticing the dissatisfaction on Jake's face.

"No, that's fucking stupid. If we don't work together, how will it be cohesive? We've already received one bad grade for the project; we need to make the final product good enough to compensate for the proposal," Jake retorted, causing you to frown.

"Well, sorry, but I really don't want to have to see you. I know I'm being stubborn right now, but can you blame me for not wanting to work on this with you? Besides, I admit I'm also responsible for forgetting about the proposal, but if you were so concerned about our grade, then why didn't you take care of it and submit it on time then?" Your voice started to rise as the conversation heated up. As usual, you and Jake couldn't seem to agree on anything.

"I don't know! I'm sorry, I just assumed you had already turned it in or something. But seriously, you're being absolutely ridiculous. Just get over it! It's just one project, and we only have like two and a half months left. There's something seriously wrong with you if you can't handle working with me on a project that determines our whole grade for the class!" Both you and Jake were now yelling loudly, and unbeknownst to both of you, the distance between you was narrowing.

"You just assumed I would take care of it? What the hell, Jake? And I did try to work with you. In fact, we were working pretty well until you decided to fuck everything up by lying! Jake, you're being so selfish—" You were abruptly cut off as Jake's lips met yours.

Amidst his anger, all Jake could think about was how hot you looked, with your furrowed eyebrows and wide eyes. The next thing he knew, he was leaning forward, connecting your lips together. As he fully realized what he was doing, he didn't back away; instead, he deepened the kiss. A small part of him knew that he had been fantasizing about this moment for weeks by now.

You, on the other hand, was extremely caught off guard and frozen for a few seconds. But as you felt the warmth and softness of his lips, you began to respond, gradually easing into the kiss. Hesitant movements transformed into more assertive actions, as your teeth clashed and your mouths opened wider.

Obviously, this was not at all how you expected your visit with Jake to unfold. If it were a few months ago, you would have slapped Jake for pulling something like this, but right now, something within you made the anger dissipate, replaced by an unexpected desire for your childhood ex-boyfriend.

Jake's hands found their way to your waist, where a sliver of skin was showing and you couldn't help but let out a soft moan into the kiss as you felt his hands slowly caressing up your skin. His fingers traced the bottom of your bra hesitating, almost as if he was asking for permission to go further and you responded by leaning further into his frame fully giving him consent.

Your lips detached for a quick second to take off your shirt and bra before reconnecting with the same fervor as before. Jake couldn’t believe how soft you felt under his fingers as he roamed his hands all over your breasts before testing the waters out by softly rubbing your nipples with his thumb.

Your head shoots backward in pleasure which Jake took advantage of as he leaned down to mark your exposed neck. His hands were now working their way down your body, and you shivered as you felt his fingertips trailing lower and lower. This time he didn’t wait for you as you felt him quickly yank your pants down along with your underwear the second he reached them.

You could see Jake sporting a familiar smirk as he observed your bare body.

“Fuck, Y/N. Look at yourself, you look like a slut. I mean you’re already wet and I’ve barely done anything.” Jake proceeded to whip you around making you face the sliding closet mirror that was located on the other side of the room.

His words filled you with humiliation yet you couldn’t help but find yourself getting wetter at the scene you were met with. His hand had snaked up to your neck, holding you in a way that made you look directly at yourself in the mirror, and his other hand was making its way to your core.

His fingers slowly rubbed at your clit before entering you with no warning. His finger was thicker than your own that you were usually used to, inciting you to lean into his frame, having a hard time keeping yourself up with the amount of pleasure you were feeling. Jake’s observation seemed to be correct as you seemed to be sopping wet with the squelching noises that could be heard as he moved his finger in and out of you.

His hand on your neck had become tighter and you could feel how hard he was becoming from behind you. “Please Jake…” You begged, wanting more.

“Please what?” He chuckled at your desperation. “You want another finger?” Once again, without hesitation, he added another digit inside of you cutting off any sound coming from within you. His fingers moved at a fast pace and your hands moved to be on top of his as if it would give you stability. The scene in the mirror looked like something out of a porno and Jake almost wanted to stop and reach for his phone to capture this moment.

You felt incredibly full and you couldn’t even imagine how his dick would feel if this was how you felt with just his fingers. You couldn’t tell if you were feeling lightheaded from his hand wrapped around your throat or from his fingers deftly moving inside your core, but either way, you could feel yourself being close.

“I’m almost there, please,” you whimpered out feeling his thumb moving harshly against your clit whilst his fingers quickened to bring you to your release.

Something inside you snapped, and suddenly, you lost all control over your body. It's as if a surge of electricity coursed through you, blinding your senses and the only thing you could do was moan. Just before you collapsed to the ground, Jake swiftly caught you, preventing the fall. Your eyes remained shut, taken by the overwhelming pleasure that washed over you.

He withdraws his fingers, slick with your essence, and raised them towards your face. "Open," he instructed, and without a moment's hesitation, you complied, parting your lips as he slid his fingers into your mouth.

The lewd sight in the mirror of you sucking his fingers only fueled his growing impatience. Unable to wait any longer, he swiftly spun you around and forcefully threw you onto his bed.

As he hovered above you, Jake assumed an aura reminiscent of a predator closing in on its prey. In this particular scenario, you found yourself willingly embracing the role of the prey, ready to be devoured by him.

Jake finally started to take off his clothes, and you couldn’t help but feel your entire body becoming hot at the sight. There was no denying how incredibly attractive Jake Sim was, and your mind went into overdrive as you eagerly observed his body. His toned figure was no surprise as he was an athlete but what took you aback the most was his dick.

No wonder he walked around like he owned the world. With a dick like his, you couldn’t blame him. He was the biggest you’d ever seen as he seemed to reach his mid-thigh with a thickness your mind could barely comprehend, and you were almost skeptical that he would even fit in you. It was pink with prominent veins and glistened as precum covered his tip. You couldn’t help but admire how pretty his dick looked as it stood proudly in front of you.

“Holy shit Jake…” You gaped with an almost concerned look on your face and this causes him to smirk at your response. Nearly every person that he had been with had given him the same reaction and he didn’t mind at all, as it boasted his ego to a new extreme.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” your mouth watered as you watched Jake giving himself a couple of pumps before moving to hover over you.

“Yeah, think you can take it, princess?” You quickly nodded eyes locked with his, determined to take all of him in you.

You could feel him moving his hips closer to yours as his tip slowly moved against your entrance, teasing you. "Well, considering how fussy you always are about everything, I'm not really sure you'd be able to handle it," he further teased, flashing a mischievous grin. He pretended to ponder the idea of whether to insert himself in you or not, leaving you on the brink of exasperation as you let out an exaggerated whine. Despite, still being sensitive from cumming earlier, you couldn’t care less as the only thing on your mind was having him in you.

“Jake please, I need you in me right now,” you were on the verge of crying out of frustration and it felt like forever before he finally gave in to your wishes.

He plunged his entire length into you without pause and you could only gasp while latching your hands to his biceps. The stretch was foreign and painful, yet you wanted more. You were right, as the fullness you were currently feeling was incomparable to before, in fact, it was nothing you’d ever felt before in your life. And when Jake started to move inside you, once again not giving you time to adjust to him, you seemed to lose all control of your body.

You were incredibly warm and it was almost painful how tight you were gripping him. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re so tight. You sure you’re not a virgin?” All you could do was shake your head unable to fully form words barely comprehending him.

His pace quickened and he couldn’t help but groan at the sight of your cum from earlier coating white all around his cock. You felt like you were perfectly made to fit him and if he could, he would want to spend the rest of his life impaled in you.

Your eyes started to well with tears. It almost felt like too much as your sensitivity from your previous orgasm lingered yet Jake was ruthless, rutting in and out of you without giving you time to even breathe. Your moans and whines along with his grunts progressively got louder and by now, neither of you could hold them back and you were sure his neighbors could audibly hear everything that was going on inside his room.

“Mmh Jake, so good. So fucking good,” you whimper while latching your nails to his back needing to hold on to something. His name seemed to be the only thing roaming in your mind.

Sweat was dripping from him as his eyebrows scrunched indicating how concentrated he was in the act. He was determined to make you cum again and when he spotted a stream of tears escaping from your eyes, he couldn’t help but tease you. “Thought you said you could handle it? You’re moaning like a fucking slut. Does it feel that good?”

You failed to answer him too engrossed in how he was making you feel and this causes the smirk on his face to widen. “Not able to talk back now, huh? Fucking dumb slut.”

If he was speaking to you like this anywhere else, you would have instantly bit back, yet under him it was as if you lost all autonomy, unable to produce any words. You indeed were being fucked dumb. You shook your head as tears continued to roll down your cheeks, feeling humiliated at his words, yet you felt yourself tightening your grip on his dick indicating how turned on you actually were by his words.

“So close, so so close,” you’re finally able to pant out tightening your grip on him, holding onto him as if your life depended on it. You could also feel Jake being close as his grip on you tightened and breathing became more erratic.

And with a harsh pinch that Jake gave you on your clit, you came. Hitting you much more intensely than before, the impact of your orgasm was overwhelming, causing your eyes to roll back and a sharp gasp to escape your lips. In the heat of the moment, you bit down hard on your lip, feeling a metallic tang as the taste of blood instantly filled your mouth.

Jake continued to thrust in you, pace getting sloppier as he felt himself getting closer at just the sight of you cumming. He grunted one last time before unloading himself in you and dropping his weight on top of you, yet too tired, you didn’t attempt to push him off. In fact, it felt as if all the energy had been drained from your body as the next thing you knew, you found yourself slowly waking up in a dark room, obvious that it was nighttime. The two of you must have passed out afterwards, as Jake laid sound asleep next to you, oblivious to your awakening, his snores filling the air.

The weight of your actions crashed down on you with a sudden and overwhelming force. You had just slept with Jake, your sworn enemy, and a wave of shame washed over you. You struggled to comprehend how you allowed yourself to succumb to such a situation, and a desperate urge to escape consumed you.

You ran to your car as if your life depended on it, desperate to leave the scene behind. Nausea churned in your stomach, almost having to pull your car aside a couple of times, and the very thought of what transpired hours earlier filled you with regret. Sure, you were all for fucking him earlier, but now all those emotions had transformed into self-disgust.

“Wonyoung, just kill me now and take me out of my misery!” You begged your roommate, the humiliation evident in your voice. Back at your dorm, your roommate had anxiously awaited your return as you had missed all her calls, unaware of the events that had unfolded. With a heavy heart, you recounted the details, laying bare the truth of what had taken place, adding to your own misery and shame.

Unfortunately, your best friend seemed far too amused by your distress. "Aha, I knew it! All that 'hate' between you two was just unresolved sexual tension! It took you long enough," she giggled, plopping herself down on your bed while you buried your face in your pillow.

"What the fuck, Won? You're not helping," you cried out, feeling a sense of betrayal at her lack of empathy regarding the utter seriousness of the situation.

"Hey, why are you so upset? It was consensual, and he's hot as fuck, so what's the problem? Oh my god! Was he bad? Or did he have a micropenis? Remember when I hooked up with that guy who had one? It was terrifying." If you could see her face, you'd laugh at her genuine concern. However, you were in no laughing mood as it was almost painful to admit to her that none of her worries were relevant. The soreness between your legs that made it hard for you to walk up to your dorm and marks on your neck that looked as if you were attacked proved that point all too well.

"No, it wasn't any of that. Ugh, I hate to admit it, but that was probably the best sex I've had in a while. I mean, he was huge, like porn-star level big, and his hands... the way they wrapped around my neck-" You caught yourself, realizing you're about to divulge more explicit details. It dawned on you that you had nothing but positive things to say about your sexual encounter with Jake.

Wonyoung's eyes widened, a devilish grin spreading across her face. "Oh my god, Y/N! Keep going! I want to hear all the juicy details!"

"No! Geez, Won, I don't ask you to tell me about everything you do with Jungwon, so stop being weird!" While clearly not offended by her, you definitely were slightly concerned by how invested your roommate seemed to be in your sexcapade.

"Oh, are you interested? Because I'm more than willing to share. I mean, he was here yesterday while you were in class, and we-" You cut her off, making a sound of surprise at her confession.

"Here? In our room?" Your eyes widened.

"Yeah, where else do you think we go?" Her nonchalant tone sharply contrasted with your own. "Don't worry, babe. We've never touched your stuff, except for that one time we made out against your bed, but we moved to mine before we actually did the dirty deed," she casually confessed which you were sure she was doing on purpose to mess with you. You let out a high-pitched squeal at the revelation, quite disturbed.

"Oh my God, I'm crashing at Yujin's tonight! I don't think I can sleep here knowing what you just told me." You hastily grabbed your pillow and made your way out, fully determined to spend the night next door with your other friend.

"Sweet dreams, babe! Love you lots!" Wonyoung's voice trailed off as you made your hasty exit.

The next time you had your Relationship 101 class, you found yourself nervously sweating, unsure of how things would unfold between you and Jake.

"Hey, Y/N! Do you think we can meet up later after my practice to work on the project? Sunoo told me earlier that the library was closed because of a burst pipe, but we can meet at the house if you're available," Jake popped out of nowhere before suggesting. It was nowhere near any of the scenarios you had imagined in your head.

The way he addressed you, as if nothing had happened between the two of you a few days ago, left you utterly flabbergasted. You stared at him in disbelief before managing to utter a response.

"Wait, uh, what?" It was all you could muster, feeling yourself get hot at just the sight of him out of embarrassment (and maybe a little horniness).

"Yeah, he told me something went wrong on the second floor, and it messed up the entire pipe system. The library will unfortunately be closed indefinitely. I hope none of the books got soaked; that would be terrible," Jake genuinely expressed his concern for the library, completely oblivious to your astonishment.

"Um, yeah, I guess that works for me," you meekly replied, trying to match his nonchalant tone. If he wasn't going to bring it up, you figured there was no reason for you to do so either.

"Okay, bet! See you later!" He then walked away, leaving you to still process everything that had just happened.

Feeling just as nervous as last time, you approached the EpNu house but you figured that it would be better to get over with it so without hesitation, you opened the door and stepped inside.

However, this time, you noticed that there were a few people around, and the sound of activity came from the kitchen. As you closed the door behind you, Jay popped his head out from the kitchen door, wearing a smile as if he had been expecting you.

"Hey, Y/N!" You weren't particularly close to Jay, but you knew he was one of Jake's best friends, along with Sunghoon. You also knew he was dating Ningning, one of the older girls you had become close with, so his friendly greeting didn't seem out of place.

"Hey, Jay! How have you been? Ningning mentioned how Mrs. Jung caught you trying to sneak in. I hope she didn't give you too hard of a time." Your house mom had a keen eye for things, and it was rare for anything to escape her.

"Yeah, she literally popped out of nowhere and scared the crap out of me. Sunghoon told me the back door wouldn't be guarded as there were no cameras there, but it seems Mrs. Jung caught on that people were using it because she found me as soon as I got in. But that won't stop me," he shrugged. You had laughed when you first heard the story, and it was still amusing to hear how Jay had been caught.

"Well, do you want a slider? I made a bunch because the guys were complaining about not having any food." You were never one to turn down food so you nodded without hesitation.

He handed you a plate with four mouthwatering sliders. "Here, take two for Jake as well. He was wanting one earlier." The fact that Jay knew exactly who you were here for caught you off guard for a moment, but then you remembered that he was Jake's closest friend so you brushed it off.

"Sure thing! Thanks so much for this they look so good, and better luck next time with Mrs. Jung!" you said, bidding Jay farewell before making your way up the stairs toward the familiar room.

You knocked twice, and the door swung open instantly, as if Jake had been eagerly awaiting your arrival. He greeted you with a wide smile, and his eyes lit up with excitement when you handed him the plate of food.

"Oh hell yeah, Jay’s a fucking legend for this!" Jake exclaimed, grabbing a slider from the plate before passing it back to you. You followed suit, taking one for yourself. Jake's assessment was spot on because the moment the food touched your taste buds, you couldn't help but gasp at how good it was.

"Holy shit, this is amazing!" you exclaimed, and Jake chuckled at your reaction.

"Yeah, Jay is probably the best cook in the house, after the actual cooks, of course. He's always willing to make something for us. Last week, he made steaks for me and a few of the guys, and it tasted like it came straight from a fancy restaurant," Jake boasted, clearly proud of his friend's talent.

"Wow, you guys are seriously lucky. This is unbelievably good," you said, reaching for another slider while silently making a mental note to ask Jay for the recipe later.

"Yeah, he's awesome. Next time he cooks something, I'll make sure he saves you a plate," Jake offered, surprising you with his kindness. It felt strange to see him being so nice to you. Maybe Wonyoung was onto something. Perhaps fucking had somehow repaired the relationship between the two of you.

Whatever it was, must have worked its magic again as you once again found yourself in a similar predicament as before. It was unclear how working on the project had escalated to you kneeling on the floor in front of Jake, but neither of you complained.

“Fuck, look at you. So pretty, all on your knees for me.” Jake mused while you looked up at him with wide eyes as your lips wrapped around the tip of his dick.

You could feel his hand resting on the back of your head, slowly guiding you down his length, and once he reached the back of your throat, you could feel your gag reflex kicking in. Undeterred by his size, you started to bob at a slow pace, but once you saw Jake’s response, you felt yourself becoming more determined to make him feel good.

“Shit, you really are a slut aren’t you? Look at you taking everything I’m giving you.” Jake’s hands had now made a makeshift ponytail as he was dragging you up and down his dick with more force than before. You were now basically choking on his cock, yet he seemed to be overtaken by the pleasure to give you any respite.

Tears and spit rolled down your face as you tried to keep up with his pace. Your nose was hitting his pelvis as you were now fully taking his entire length down your throat. His abuse of your throat was making you beyond wet and you reached between your legs, desperate to get yourself off. However, Jake seemed unamused with your act as he harshly yanked your hair back, forcing you off his dick and facing up at him.

“Dumb bitch, you thought you were going to get away with that, didn’t you. Don’t even think about touching yourself, the only way you’re cumming tonight is on my cock.” You whimpered aroused by how roughly he was treating you.

You meekly nod with tears still rolling down your face before he gives your face a couple of taps. “Good girl.” He then pushes you back on his length and continues going back to fucking your face.

Ever since you two first fucked, Jake had been going back in his mind and replaying everything from how you looked in the mirror with his fingers stuffed inside of you to how you looked under him and all he could think about was how he had missed out on capturing those glorious sights. He wanted to be able to go back and take a look at them, forever treasuring those images without them getting hazy in his memory. He, of course, wasn’t going to be making the same mistake twice so while he was pistoning his hip in and out of you, he reached over next to him and grabbed his phone.

From your peripheral, you could see Jake holding something and when you looked up, you were met with the back camera of his phone. Was he videoing you?

At the realization, you once again found yourself fighting the urge to touch yourself. Just the thought of having your dirty acts documented had you going frenzy. Deciding to put on a show, you tried your best to keep your eyes open to look directly into the camera while exaggerating your gags.

Jake moaned loudly before abruptly pulling you off his length. You always had an inkling that Jake was a freak, and continued to prove your assumptions correct as he took ahold of his dick to start smothering your face with it. Your already messy face was now covered all over in the mixture of his precum and spit and it was an absolute filthy picture, and he loved every second of it. You giggled while biting your lip at just imagining how you probably looked from his screen. He continued to tap his length on your face and he couldn’t help but admit how the view from his phone was absolutely pornographic.

After having a bit of fun dragging himself all over your face, making sure that you were covered in him, before he took hold of your hair again and pushed you back down his dick. He gave you no time to recover as he resumed his fast pace. Jake could feel himself already getting close and when you moved your hands to fondle his balls, an instant reaction was triggered out of him.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” Jake grunted before pushing you all the way down and holding you there, leaving you to struggle with the lack of air. You could feel him spurting himself in your mouth as he kept you in place until he finished. Cum was spilling out from side of your mouth while your eyes were bloodshot from the lack of oxygen.

“Don’t swallow yet, open up,” he instructed and you obliged by opening your mouth wide, looking absolutely filthy with his load inside your mouth. By now, the cum that leaked along with your spit had flowed down to your breasts and Jake groaned again at the sight before moving the camera closer to you to get a good shot of everything.

“Swallow,” and once again you followed his instruction without hesitation before opening your mouth again to show that you had done exactly what he had instructed you to do.

This dynamic between you and Jake was surprisingly working well, and it was no wonder that you found yourselves having sex regularly. Strangely enough, it seemed to have a positive effect on your overall relationship, as the two of you were no longer as antagonistic towards each other as before. In fact, you had been diligently working on your project together and were almost finished, which was quite unexpected considering there were still three weeks left until the deadline. He also resumed being your physics tutor, which you were very much grateful for. Despite its unconventional nature, sex seemed to be working like a miracle for the both of you.

"So, how are things going with Jake?" Winter asked from your bed munching on some trail mix your mom had sent back with you while you were unpacking.

You had just returned from Thanksgiving break, during which most of your time was spent hanging out with your sisters and fucking Jake. You were surprised that no one had caught on to the two of you sneaking off for a quickie in the bathroom during the joint family Thanksgiving dinner, but you certainly weren't complaining. After all, the last thing you wanted was for anyone from either one of your families to find out about the true nature of your newfound amicability.

"What do you mean?" you replied, acting oblivious to Winter's question.

Winter had been extremely skeptical when she first found out about your "situationship" through her roommate, who had learned about it from Wonyoung. Winter, being close friends with Jake, knew his reputation with girls. He was a serial heartbreaker who frankly had a track record of being a dick to girls, and as your big, she was naturally concerned about your well-being. Despite your assurances that the relationship between you and Jake was strictly physical, Winter remained unconvinced. In fact, she even went as far as threatening Jake (and his best friends, much to their girlfriends' dismay, and his little, Niki, who she claimed were collateral) with a baseball bat aimed between his legs. Needless to say, by the end of the night, everyone was in agreement with Winter's wishes.

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. Are you two still friends with benefits or whatever you guys are doing?" Winter probed, her concern evident in her tone.

You didn't respond immediately, pretending to be occupied with putting away your makeup. In reality, you were deep in thought, trying to figure out how to articulate your answer. It was difficult to classify your relationship with Jake as friends with benefits since you weren't even really friends to begin with.

"Well, yeah, I guess... It's more like acquaintances with benefits, if you want to put a label on it," you finally replied, sensing Winter's lingering disapproval.

"You know I love you, right? I'm sorry if I sound annoying, but I just don't like what's going on. Trust me, I care about Jake, and he's been a great friend to me, but his history with girls is terrible. And let's not forget how he's treated you throughout your life! I just don't want him to use you and leave you hurt. Why can't you two just date? Maybe that would give more weight to your relationship and ensure he's serious about this," Winter's concerns echoed the sentiments she had expressed repeatedly since learning about your relationship.

"No way, that's a terrible idea. We don't even like each other in that way, let alone enough to be actual friends. Plus, he doesn’t have to be serious about this cause there are no feelings involved. Just trust me, Winter. I've got it under control. Don't worry about me," you assured her, unaware that your big's intuition had been spot on. Little did you know that this would mark the beginning of the end.

While frat parties were usually your go-to on weekends, you and your friends were not opposed to hitting up the downtown bars. They offered a different atmosphere compared to house parties, with a more diverse crowd and a wider selection of drinks. Truth be told, there were times when you even preferred the bar scene.

Paradoxx was the hotspot for most undergrads at HybeU, aside from Greek Row, and that's where you found yourself, a few shots deep with your friends. You decided to invite your seatmate, Lily, to join you, and Wonyoung brought along her boyfriend, who in turn brought Niki, Jake's little. Surprisingly, the five of you hit it off remarkably well, dancing and enjoying your drinks.

"Y/N, honestly, when Jungwon first told me we were going out with you, I never expected you to be this fun. Jake kept talking about how you were snobby and had a stick up your ass, but damn, you're actually so much fun," Niki giggled, clearly intoxicated (he was definitely a lightweight despite his height). You couldn't help but laugh at his confession. It was typical of Jake to badmouth you, but you were glad to prove him wrong.

"Aww, thanks, Niki! Honestly, I had no idea what to expect from you just because you are Jake's little, but I'm really glad Jungwon brought you along. We should all definitely go out like this again!" As soon as your words reached his ears, Niki engulfed you in a tight hug, albeit a slightly suffocating one. You had heard from Beomgyu that Niki was probably their most chaotic pledge, and while you could certainly see why, given how unhinged he seemed to be, but you didn't expect him to be such a sweetheart.

"Here you go!" You heard Lily say as she ran up to you while handing you a shot. Wonyoung and Jungwon also trailed behind her holding matching shots in their hands with an extra for Niki. Jungwon had offered to get a round for everyone, and the other two joined in to help carry them back.

With a collective clinking of shot cups, everyone toasted before throwing the tequila back. The familiar burn of the alcohol wasn't exactly pleasant, but in your tipsy state, you couldn't care less.

In contrast to Niki, Jungwon didn't seem as intoxicated. He had his arms wrapped around Wonyoung from behind, wearing the biggest smile you had ever seen. The two of them swayed to the pulsating beat of the bar, and you and Lily couldn't help but coo at their adorableness. Just as Jungwon was about to speak, three strangers abruptly pushed their way into your friend group, interrupting the moment.

"Hey, are you Y/N?" The tallest of the three asked with a smirk on his face. The other two behind him wore similar expressions, making you feel uneasy. Despite your discomfort, you replied.

"Yeah I am, um, sorry, do we know each other?" You and your friends shared confused looks, as none of you seemed to recognize them. However, the three individuals seemed to light up upon confirming their assumption.

"Fuck, me and the boys here are huge fans of your work, man. You're a legend. Daeho over here has been raving about how you should seriously consider going professional." While their words sounded like compliments, their smirks gave off a mocking vibe. Besides, you had no idea what they were talking about, and their presence was making you increasingly uncomfortable. It didn't help that all three of them appeared completely plastered, struggling to maintain their balance.

As always, Wonyoung’s protective nature regarding you kicked in as she spoke up addressing them assertively. "What are you talking about?"

"You know, her little short films!" The three of them erupted into laughter, as if the boy had just cracked the funniest joke ever.

"Wait a minute, I know you guys. You're on the soccer team, right?" Jungwon furrowed his eyebrows, recognizing the three boys who were still recovering from their fit of laughter. Niki also seemed to be putting together where he remembered them from.

"Yup, we are. Who are you?" They asked, but before Jungwon could respond, they redirected their attention back to you. "Why are you acting so shy now? Hey, we're your biggest fans. Shouldn't you be doing something for us? How about a show?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" You finally snapped, annoyed by their presence.

"Why are you playing dumb? Fuck, you really are a dumb slut, aren't you?" Their words instantly took your breath away. Those were the exact words Jake would use during sex. How did they know?

"Whoa, what the fuck, dude!" Niki intervened, pushing them away from you. The rest of your friends reacted similarly, raising their voices in shock and disbelief at the derogatory comments directed at you.

One of them pushed back against Niki before speaking again. "Don't touch me, you fucker. Besides, it's not like we said anything that wasn't true. You two EpNu boys, right? There's no way you don't know what we're talking about. I bet you guys have some of the exclusives, right? Come on, what did Jake show you guys? Share with the class! Was she on her knees or taking it from behind?" The boys continued their taunting, and it became clear to everyone in your group what they were insinuating.

The room suddenly felt suffocating, and you felt a wave of sickness wash over you. Panic gripped you, and you knew you were on the verge of a panic attack. Desperate to escape, you bolted out of the bar, needing to get away immediately. The thought that Jake had been showing intimate videos of the two of you to others was unbearable. It was a betrayal beyond words. Despite the tumultuous nature of your relationship with Jake, this crossed a line that was incomprehensible to you. It was even more than cruel; it was devastating.

Wonyoung and Lily quickly followed behind you, reaching out to comfort you in your hyperventilating state, attempting to calm you down. However, their comforting words were drowned out by your overwhelming despair. All you could do was cry, confronted with the devastating reality of what had transpired. Winter had been right all along. You were utterly broken, beyond repair, because you had trusted Jake, and you should have listened to her. Now you were left to face the consequences.

TAGLIST: @hsgwrld @matchawhip @chiefturtlebonkghost @bolliwon @cha0thicpisces @chaechae-23 @softiehee @jeonjieun17 @emikisses @ctlvrsworld @starryeyedbabey @yunjardi @hyunjinekoma @jaeyunflix @txtispeng

UNABLE TO TAG: @bellebear @yur1a1

#jake sim #sim jaeyun #jake scenarios #jake x reader #jake smut #jake sim fluff #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #jake enhypen #jake sim scenarios #jake sim smut #jake sim x reader #fic: monkey bars

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penny00dreadful · 5 months

Text

STWG Prompt: Missed Mistletoe

“Oh, Robbie!” Steve sing-songed out in a tone of voice that told Eddie he was up to no good.

Robin didn’t seem to notice, just giving a questioning hum in response, her head still stuck in Steve’s tv cabinet, looking for something to watch.

“Looks like you missed something.” Steve continued to sing, slowly approaching her from around the coffee table.

“What-?” Robin poked her head out, looking confusedly in Steve’s direction who had turned on the innocent big puppy dog eyes, twirling a sprig of mistletoe that he’d plucked from somewhere.

“No, Steve. Absolutely not.” She said, backing away as he continued to approach. “You keep those boy cooties away from me!”

“You gotta pay the toll, Birdie.” He shook it at her again as he approached.

Robin turned her eyes towards her girlfriend and Eddie, perched the couch, painting their nails.

Chrissy shrugged at her. “You gotta pay the toll, baby.”

Eddie didn’t respond, just sulked down at the polish.

He didn’t get told to pay the toll.

He’d have loved to be told to pay the toll.

A high pitched squeal made him look up and he was treated to the sight of Steve chasing Robin around the room. Though she was shouting at him to stay away, she couldn’t keep the smile off her face and he knew Steve wouldn’t be pushing it if Robin was actually uncomfortable.

She made a sudden break for the stairs and while Eddie could hear them scrambling up, Chrissy nudged him in the ribs.

“Stop pouting.”

“I’m not pouting. I don’t pout. If anything I’m brooding.”

Chrissy rolled her eyes. “Okay, stop brooding then.”

“How can I? She’s stealing all my kisses.”

“He probably doesn’t know you even want to kiss him.”

“Have I not made it obvious enough?”

“Have you said it to him, using your big boy words? Or have you just stared at him wistfully from across the room, hoping he would get the message.”

Eddie glared at her, scowling at the nail polish bottles before muttering “The second one.”

“Exactly.” Chrissy gave him a condescending pat on the head. “Maybe try a new strategy.”

“Chris!” Robin screamed from the landing, throwing the sprig of mistletoe she’d somehow managed to wrench from Steve’s grasp through the air towards them.

It was way too wide of a throw but Chrissy wasn’t cheer team captain for nothing, stretching over the coffee table as it skidded along the wood to catch it before it disappeared over the ledge.

She sat back with a little fist bump to herself, bringing the sprig close to her cheek before Steve materialised next to her, snatching it back and smacking a sloppy kiss against that same cheek and taking off again to the sound of Robin’s outraged screams.

Eddie crossed his arms and turned what he hoped was a heartbroken expression on Chrissy.

“Now you’re stealing my kisses? You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

“I am your best friend, and as your best friend I’m telling you you need to make it more obvious and not just hope he gets it.”

Eddie huffed, turning his eyes around the room before his gaze landed on the bundle of mistletoe tied over the front door.

With a new plan in mind he pushed himself up to standing and dragged one of the sturdier looking end tables over the floor until it was sitting just underneath his prize.

“Ed, what the hell are you doing?” Chrissy asked, watching him like he was a cat trying to climb into a Christmas tree.

Eddie clambered up until he was nearly eye level with the greenery. Jesus, Steve’s doorways we’re tall. The end table was a little wobbly but it was fine. He was pretty sure it was solid wood and it would probably take a train running over it to break it.

“Making it more obvious.” He muttered, tongue between his teeth as he tried to untie it from the small nail it had been attached to.

“Oh my god, Eddie-” she muttered to herself, drowned out by the unmistakable sounds of Steve finally capturing Robin up and pressing wet sloppy kisses to her cheeks while she weakly shrieked about boy cooties in between her giggles.

Eddie nearly had it, he just needed to change the angle a little bit and-

He stepped back a little too far and felt his stomach fly out of his throat with that sickening feeling of stepping through nothing, like missing a step on the stairs.

There was a great big clatter as the table teetered out from underneath him and then he was falling.

He felt the impact the whole way up his back as he landed hard on his ass, momentarily breathless and shocked as Chrissy screamed out for him.

The back of his head throbbed. He’d probably hit it against the door on his way down and he rubbed it gingerly with a grimace as he sat up properly, feeling the tenderness right at the base of his spine.

“Eddie?!” Steve’s panicked voice reached him and he blinked his eyes open to see the man himself skidding to a stop next to him and crouching down, his eyes worried.

“‘M fine.”

Well.

So much for that plan.

He tried to wave them away but winced again when he moved his head.

“Can you girls get me one of the ice packs from the freezer?” Steve asked.

Robin and Chrissy nodded to him, their eyes worried before turning and rushing out towards the kitchen.

Steve turned his furrowed brow back towards him. “Any nausea, double vision?”

“I’m not concussed, Stevie, don’t worry. Just a little bruised.”

“What on earth were you doing?”

Eddie looked up at Steve hovering over him, his great big concerned eyes and his pink pouting mouth. He felt his own eyes slide from Steve’s face up towards the mistletoe which was gently rocking side to side, still above the door.

Steve followed his gaze up and huffed out a little laugh.

“Y’know,” he said, his cheeks a little pink. “I had a plan for that, if you’d only waited a few hours.”

“You… what?”

“I was gonna use that to kiss you before you left.” Steve pointed up, grinning down at him while Eddie could do nothing but blink.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Eddie was forced to close his eyes at his own mortification, letting his head fall back against the door, ignoring the pain that came along with it.

Something lightly bumped him on the head and bounced into his lap.

When he opened his eyes, he looked down to find that same sprig of mistletoe he’d tried to untie had fallen down, hitting him on the forehead as it made its journey directly towards his fucking dick, because the universe was funny like that.

He chanced a glance up at Steve who was also staring down at it, his cheeks getting even redder.

Eddie swallowed down his nerves before asking “Pay the toll?”

Steve snapped his eyes up and grinned leaning forward and Eddie thought for one horrifying moment that Steve was gonna do it. That it was going to happen in front of his obscenely big front door and out in the open where the girls could walk back in at any second.

But Steve just gripped Eddie by the chin and leant forward, pressing a kiss against his forehead.

Oh.

Yeah, that was just as good.

But based on the look on Steve's face, he didn't think it would be too long before he could claim the toll fully paid.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #penny00dreadful #eddie x steve #penny ficlet #stwgdailyprompt #robin buckley #stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #dailydrabble #missed mistletoe #christmas #mistletoe #pre relationship

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fadingsnow · 5 months

Note

in order to ingratiate himself with the plinth family (for the money ofc), snow starts courting sejanus’s sister. he doesn’t expect to actually like her.

𓆙 DRESS - CORIOLANUS SNOW x f! reader (short) summary and tw: coriolanus seeks to manipulate you to gain the plinth favour, but he unfortunately realizes he actually does not mind your prescence. sorry for taking so long to finish, had a rlly long week so i'll finish requests from today to tuesday!! divider credits : @cafekitsune 𓆙

He let out a gritted response, when you wrapped your arm around his. "Yes..?"

He tolerated you at best, trying to hold in his internalized disgust at your family. They bought their way into this life, not being born into it through your own blood. He had no way to gain his wealth out of nowhere, so you became his next solution. You seemed rather easy to manipulate.

He remember when he first met you, for once he hadn't come up with some vile thought of how to use someone for this own gain. "Would you like to eat with me for lunch?" That was his first step, enticing you to believe he's someone kind. From there, he had earned the respect of your parents and you yourself.

"Coryo, you won't believe it! I saw Livia Cardew get rejected by Dennis Fling!"

He looked at you a little aggravated for a moment, Coryo? Since when did you call him that?

"I can see why." He shrugged, walking a little faster out of uncomfortableness. Why did he feel weird about you calling him that? Lately, you've been more.. noticeable to him. He wasn't particularly a fan of that. He'd only tolerate you for the money. He had a series of events he had planned. Win the hunger games, gain the prize, and marry you out of disgust.

You huffed, wanting him to slow down. "Mind if you slow down a bit?"

He was about to give an aggressive response, but quietly said, "Sure."

Coriolanus seeked you out, huffing about how you were so useless to give him a letter. He was about to head to his classes, before he saw something that made him stop in his steps. He saw you talking with Sejanus with a frown, what made you look so.. unhappy? Not that he cared, he just wanted to make sure nothing affected his plan. He walked forward, the thought of you lingering.

You sat at the table, holding a book on the small history of the Hunger Games. You were in the library. The Academy was definitely rich, sometimes you felt too small for the Capitol. You weren't an idiot, you've seen the stares the others have given you. You were too into your reading to hear the familiar footsteps behind you.

Snow was a little surprised to be honest, maybe you weren't as stupid as he thought. Well of course he thought you were.. intelligent, but he just never expected to see you. Not to mention, he was trying to ignore the beat in his heart moving a little faster when he saw you.

He don't know what moved him to do it, but he sat down at the table.

"Mother said she wanted to see you, y'know." You mumbled, ignoring him to finish your book.

He could barely hide his eyeroll, deciding to talk to you. How else could he.. manipulate you?

"What book are you reading?" He placed his attention on the cover of the book.

"Erm, history of the Hunger Games. It goes up till the ninth hunger games." You nervously said, not really expecting him to ask you about it.

For some reason, he spent the rest of the time till the library closed asking you about your specific type of books you hold interest in.

He had surprisingly gotten close to you, not seeing you as much as a nuisance as you used to he. He first chose you since you wouldn't affect him through love, but lately..

He went to wrap his arm this time around your shoulders, "for the look." You looked at him in slight surprise. You didn't know he was a fan of pda? He once told you that he was usually reluctant to show it unless needed, whatever that meant.

You hummed, not noticing the look he gave you.

You sure didn't seem to have a voice like Lucy Gray, but he supposed you weren't so bad. His eyesight flew to your lips, he never realized how scarlett they were. The opposite of a white rose, that's why he never liked anyone really. They were his opposite, but now he was deciding you weren't such of his opposite as he thought you were.

He remembered when he first met you. You were just Sejanus' little sister back then, someone he had to be near because of Sejanus deciding they were brothers. He wouldn't even see Sejanus as 3rd forgotten cousin if he was forced too. Now, you were something else he wasn't sure what to think of.

"Library again?" Somehow, he had ended up also coming to the library the same time and way as you, as if he had not totally came with you four times after the first.

You had started to get what he was doing now, was this supposed to be his way of non-chalant affection? You raised one of your eyebrows, saying, "I'd expect you to know that after you basically integrated yourself to come with me four times in a row. The least you can do is help me with my project."

He groaned playfully. You looked at him appalled so far in your relationship, he had never really acted playful with you. You slipped your hand into his, trying to ignore how his eyes burned into your face.

When you reached up to the library, he opened the door for you. "Ladies first."

You thanked him, going down to sit at your regular table. You had already grabbed your books, giving one to him as he sat down. Next to you? He always sat across from you. "Find a sentence that proves the concept, okay?"

He nodded wordlessly, his hands already flipping through the pages. For some time, there was silence between you. He was thinking to himself. Even though he did for the prize, he knew he didn't have to help you this much. He never had to.. care so much. He was sure he could keep you satisfied with a hug or too.

When he asked you out, he was simple and brought you a white rose as a symbol of his so-called crush for you. He never thought he'd be so infatuated for you. Something he thought he'd never admit for a district girl of all people.

Coriolanus Snow had come to a terrifying conclusion, he didn't dislike you or hate you. He liked you. As in, you could give him a kiss and he'd beg for more.

He unconciouslly took one of his hands away from the book, and placed it on yours.

You kept looking at your book, but a small smile formed on your face.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you

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ptolemaeacles · 8 months

Text

♡ being hazel callahan’s cheerleader gf hcs

pairing: hazel callahan x cheerleader!reader

synopsis: what it’s like dating hazel (post huntington fight)

notes: unofficial part two to this !! if you guys have anything to add, feel free to hop into my inbox or comment, i love interacting with you guys !!

word count: 1k

after the huntington fight, she finally took you out on a date. she completely wracked her brain for days trying to find the best place to take you.

most likely, asked josie where she would take isabel since the four of you seemed to be parallels of each other (nerdy, loser lesbian and her super hot, preppy gf)

going back to the first date though, i would imagine she took you to an arcade or maybe a diner (like josie and isabel were at). and of course she shyly asked you if that’s what you wanted.

hazel and you were sat in your english, making usual conversation since the both of you had finished your work. hazel realized it was probably a good time to ask you about that date.

“so i wanted to ask you, um, about the date. i know it’s been a few days and i’ve been planning it but what do you think about the diner? you know, after school, you can pick the day if you’d like, or if you changed your mind, we can just not go at all, it depends on you-”

“haze,” you stopped her with a soft smile and putting your hand on top of hers, “i’d love to go to a diner. that’s perfect. and tomorrow is good with me if it’s good with you!”

hazel sheepishly smiled back at you.

“yeah, it’s good with me.” she murmured.

after the third or fourth date, she wanted to pop the “will you be my girlfriend” speech badly. she wanted it to be romantic but not cheesy, heartfelt but not corny, cute but not cliche. god she was over thinking this like a motherfucker.

and to her surprise, you popped the question before her.

hazel was lounging on the loveseat in the corner of your room while you were sitting cross legged on your bed. the both of you had decided to study at your house after school. (not much studying was done so far. often getting distracted by making out with each other. so much so, the two of you had realized that nearly an hour had passed which resulted in hazel moving to the loveseat so the two of you could get some actual studying done.)

“so did you divide both sides by 6 or by 4? i don’t get that part.” hazel lifted her gaze from her notebook to you, who was already looking at her.

you decided to just blurt it out.

“haze,” she hummed in response, “do you want to be my girlfriend?”

hazel felt her mouth go dry. she really did want to be the one to ask you but it was so much hotter that you asked her.

“yeah, uh, yes, fuck, i’d love to.” she exclaimed.

now onto the actual BEING hazel’s gf (i love to over explain things, sorry)

hazel’s love language is definitely physical touch or gifting-giving. not super into pda but will put her arm around your shoulders or a hand on your lower back when you’re walking. if she’s feeling risqué, then an arm around your waist.

no matter how long you guys have been dating, she still gets nervous around you. doesn’t matter if you woke up with horrid morning breath, messy bed head, and/or a puffy face, she’d still look at you starstruck, as if you held the entire world in your palms. she’s a hopeless woman in love.

she does have a lot of money (probably one of those kids who refuses to say she’s rich, she calls herself “comfortable” …..) but she loves to make gifts for you. i can see her being into welding or wood workshop. (not sure if all schools have these types of classes, i’m american soooo)

100% makes wooden sculptures or welding a ring with the both of your initials on the inside. she made a wooden sculpture of the two of you holding hands (you nearly cried when she gave it to you)

very big music lover. listens to divorced dad rock. pearl jam, metallica, nirvana, etc. probably a minor swiftie (really obsessed with folklore and evermore but not a big fan of her other albums) definitely listens to boygenius (she listens to ‘leonard cohen’ and thinks of you). likes r&b/rap from time to time. (frank ocean, mac miller, a bit of tyler the creator.) oh and some 80s r&b like sade. her playlist is very diverse to say the least.

not really a gf headcanon but she’s definitely got some irregular allergies. strawberries, i would say. walnuts too.

PLAYS GUITAR. both acoustic and electric, she's interested in drums too and she tried learning how to play but it was too loud for her so she quit. writes songs for you but you would never get her to perform them or even show you in a million years.

LOVESSSSSS to nap and cuddle with you. a lot of the time, she invites you to her house under the guise of “studying”. you’ll be grabbing your backpack ready to pull out your english homework and she’s grabbing her blanket and asking you to just lay in her bed with her for “5 minutes”. you guys end up falling asleep (exactly like she planned) and wasted 2 hours. it was worth it.

“okay so i think we should start with our english homework because we need to brainstorm for the ess-“ you opened your bag, ready to study with your girlfriend.

“we can do that later, babe,” hazel grabbed your bag and set it on the ground, “aren’t you tired? i mean you walked all around campus, which is huge, might i add-“

“not really-“

“doesn’t matter. we should lay down and rest a bit so we can have clear minds, and we’ll be ready to study.” hazel had already kicked off her shoes and crawled into her bed, lifting her blanket and silently asking you to lay down with her.

“only a few minutes, okay, and then we have to get to work.” you breathily chuckeld, not impressed with your girlfriend’s antics.

hazel giggled and ushered you under her blanket, wrapping her arm tightly around your waist and tucking your head in the crook of her neck.

you knew what her plan was but she was too cute to say no to.

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan imagine #hazel bottoms #hazel callahan fanfiction

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unknownbl0ggerr · 6 months

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Someone kiss me!

Chandler Bing x Fem! Reader

The New Years pact doesn’t go as planned

rest in peace Matthew Perry 💕🕊️

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The New Years party wasn’t going exactly as everyone planned, everyone had brought dates completely ignoring the pact the group had made but something went wrong with their dates. You were the only one who didn’t actually have a date to bring and actually laughed at everyone when their date went wrong.

You didnt want to bring anyone, not like you had anyone to bring but even if you did you wouldnt. You were barely a party goer anyway so you weren’t expecting anything interesting. You were hoping Chandler would’ve showed up alone to give yourself at least a bit of distraction but no. He brought Janice, his horrible ex girlfriend.

You sat in the middle of Joey and Ross on the couch with Marcel on your lap. “I dont get why you just ask him y/n. It’s new years, you need someone to kiss, he needs someone to kiss, perfect match!” Joey said. Ross nodded watching Marcel jump off my lap and walk around to the other guests, “i agree.”

You shook your head, “he’s my best friend guys it would be weird, theres no way he’d want to do it anyway.” The boys rolled their eyes but you didnt notice, you had gotten up to get another drink, “she has no idea.” Joey whispers to Ross. “Clearly.” Ross whispers back leaning against the back of the couch.

Chandler was talking to some girl about something she clearly wasn’t interested in but you couldn’t hear what it was. You poured yourself a drink and heard Chandler practically yell, “please kiss me at midnight!” You turned around and looked at an annoyed, desperate chandler starting to follow the girl before giving up.

Chandler shook his head then looked up and saw you, anyone else watching him would’ve seen his eyes light up but you didn’t notice. “No luck?” You ask taking a sip of your drink. Chandler laughed, “no she actually said yes.” You laughed softly at his sarcasm, that was one of your favorite things about him.

“Oh guys we only have 2 minutes! Change the channel!” Phoebe yelled to Joey and Ross who both scrambled to get the remote. Eventually the group slowly started migrating to you and chandler. Dick Clark announced that the ball was dropping and Chandler turned towards you and the group, “and the moment of joy is upon us!” “I guess that no date thing worked out.” Joey mumbled. “Everybody looks so happy, i hate that!” Phoebe complained and you nodded agreeing with her. “Not everybody’s happy.” Monica said, “hey bobby!” We all looked at her ex who started sobbing and gesturing her away.

They all started ranting about the kiss and no one seemed to be agreeing but somehow the only thing on your mind was Chandler. “Alright somebody kiss me.” Chandler complained. Everyone started trying to get him to shush but he didn’t, he jumped up and down, “somebody kiss me it’s midnight!” You felt a nudge on your arm and looked over, Joey was gently pushing you towards him and Ross was nodding at you.

“Alright, alright, alright.” You said grabbing his face with your hand and pulling him in, kissing him. Your friends cheered and you expected Chandler to pull away but you felt his hand on your lower back and his other on your waist as he kissed you back.

“Okay, okay enough!” Joey complained and we pulled away, i turned slightly to look at Joey, “congratulations you actually got a kiss at midnight.” He said rolling his eyes, “oh and i thought i was the sarcastic one.” Chandler joked and Joey slapped his shoulder. Chandler laughed and so did the others. “So much for the pact huh?” Ross joked.

Chandlers hand was still on your lower back and it stayed like that the rest of the night, but you weren’t complaining about it.

A/n: thinking of making a part two to this. Let me know 🙈💕

#chandler bing #chandler bing x reader #joey tribbiani #monica geller #ross geller #friends #friends imagines #chandler bing imagine

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asahicore · 1 year

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we’ll always have this summer - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader synopsis. Your mom ruins your summer plans by sending you to the equestrian center your grandmother owns in the south of France, wanting you to spend some time away from the city and take a break from your med studies. Although you’d been determined to spend the worst time ever there, you soon find out that maybe the cold but cute horse nerd next door who doesn’t want to talk to you might actually turn this summer into the best one of your life. genre. summer au, strangers to mutual dislike to friends to lovers ig, city girl x country boy type beat, mainly fluff and smut but also angst cause i love pain word count. 25.9k a/n. hi sisters i'm super excited to repost this, it was really fun rereading and editing it, and i hope that all of you who had enjoyed reading it last summer will still like it this time around and that those of you who hadn't read it will enjoy it now <3 i had also posted an sfw version, so if anyone would like that too, pls lmk! ok thats it let me know what u think love you bye

Sunghoon was going to have a very normal, uneventful summer. He would take a very much needed break from his studies and take care of the equestrian center he lives in, letting his parents take a breather and enjoy their summer. He’d wake up early and do everything he needed to, then spend the afternoon on horseback or sleeping in a random field. It’d be a routine his body is used to and likes, and he’d be able to let his worries go for a while. But then, you came along.

You, who’d had big plans for the summer. You, who should’ve been going on a two-week vacation with your friends to Mallorca as a treat for having aced your second-year medical school final exams and as a celebration for getting an internship in the hospital of your choice. You, who would’ve done nothing for those two weeks but sunbathe, read trashy romance novels, and get margarita-drunk at 2pm, and would’ve spent the rest of the summer hanging out with your friends in Paris, your home, and taking day trips to random French cities. This summer would be your last fun, carefree summer before you were thrown into real semi-adult life, and you were going to make the best of it. That’s what you had planned; to your utmost despair, your mom seemed to have other ideas in mind.

“We’ve gone over this a thousand times now, sweetie. You’re going. It’ll be good for you.”

“You know what will be good for me?” you say, close on her tail as you descend the stairs. “Relaxing and having fun with my friends for two weeks. Not cleaning horse manure and having to walk ten kilometers to get service.”

“It’ll be one or two kilometers at most, dear, not ten.”

“Ugh!” you groan ostentatiously. Your mother only shoots you a don’t-be-so-dramatic look. You glare back at her.

“It’ll be good for you,” she repeats, turning back to whatever was occupying her in the kitchen before you started arguing with her as you plop down on one of the stools at the center island. “You’ve seen neither your grandmother nor the countryside in ages, so it’ll be a nice change. What’s more, they say the best doctors are the ones who’ve done different jobs, you know.”

“Who’s ever said that…” you mutter under your breath, a clear look of distaste on your face. “But anyway, I see Mamie every Christmas at Auntie’s in Perpignan, and even if I didn’t, whose fault is it I never go to the countryside? You never bring me there.”

Your mother lifts her head and looks at you. “I’m too busy to make the journey all the way there. You’ve seen it, there’s two trains and two buses, I can’t do all that. Which is why we settle for Marseille. Direct train, easy. You, on the other hand,” she says, pointing to you with her wooden spoon, “will have plenty of time this summer.”

“Yeah, time I could’ve spent on a beach in Spain or with my friends here!” You know you’re being annoying, but you can’t help it. You really want to go to Mallorca.

She sighs. “I just need you to trust me on this one, honey. You’ll have tons of other summers to do all that. Your grandmother is getting old, so I want you to have at least some memories with her before… you know. I know it’s our fault you didn’t see her more often, so this is our way of making up for it!”

Your father walks in the kitchen, materializing out of nowhere as he often does. “Your mother’s right, you know.” They both peer down at you, and you know then you really don’t get a say in this. “I had an amazing bond with my grandfather, and I want for you to have something similar with your grandmother. She’s the only grandparent you’ve got left, and I promise you, you don’t want to let that go to waste.” You still don’t look fully convinced, so he adds, “Plus, you already get along well, right? You always talk lots when you see each other at Christmas.”

Your father does have a point. You know the problem isn’t being with your grandmother, anyway. Truth be told, you were quite looking forward to spending more time with her. She had a great sense of fashion, and you were sure she had many stories to tell you. It was the fact that you had to spend your summer in a godforsaken town of Southern France where the nearest town was seven kilometers away and the nearest city almost a forty-minute drive. Where you lived in Paris, you had everything you needed in a five-minute walk radius, and you just needed to hop on the Metro or the train to go anywhere else. And it was an equestrian center, of all places. You didn’t even like horses.

“Also,” your mother starts, dragging out the vowel, “the family that lives in the house next door has a boy your age. I heard he’s cute.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you groan at her, which just makes your parents laugh more. You don’t want to stereotype, but you highly doubt a boy who lives in an equestrian center in the middle of God-knows-where is anywhere as handsome as the boys you see everywhere in the capital city. Hot people live in cities; to you, that’s always been a fact.

And as if a stupid boy could make this any better anyway.

Your mother wasn’t lying when she said the journey was long. You took the Metro from your apartment to the train station, then a rapid train to Perpignan, a regional train to Argelès, and a bus to the town of Laroque-des-Albères. And that wasn’t even it - there could’ve been a second bus, but your grandmother had arranged for the neighbors’ son to come and pick you up and drive you to the small commune named La Pierrerie where the equestrian center was.

To your dismay, there was another thing your mother had been right about; the neighbors’ son being cute. When you get off the bus, you look around the almost empty parking spot with no idea of who you’re supposed to look for. But he must see your lost expression and all your luggage and assume you’re the one he had come to pick up, so he calls out your name. Your head snaps towards the direction of the voice, and the moment your eyes settle on him, you have to hold yourself from gaping at him like a dead fish. For someone who supposedly spends his weekends and vacations outside, taking care of horses, cleaning stalls and doing handiwork, his features are… delicate. The perfect blend of sharp and soft - a round face contrasted by a knifelike jaw, plump lips, his eyebrows forming a straight line over his almond-shaped eyes. But you find roughness on his face is in the crease of his eyebrows as he peers down at you. You haven’t done anything yet, but he already clearly disapproves of you.

There’s a scowl on his face - he may be pretty, but he’s definitely not welcoming. You walk towards him, dragging your luggage behind you, and he doesn’t move to help you until you reach the car, and finally he opens the trunk and hauls one of your suitcase in.

“Thank you,” you breathe, looking up at him, “um?”

A beat passes as your eyes lock, and he looks so bored you think he might not even bother to give you his name, but thank God he does. “Sunghoon.”

You decide not to let his rudeness get to you and put on a bright smile, but by the time you’re done saying “nice to meet you,” he’s already gotten in the driver’s seat. He starts the car without another word, and your efforts at any sort of conversation are so fruitless that you give up after two minutes of asking questions that are only met with two-word sentences. You can only hope that his family isn’t as unfriendly as he is, otherwise you’d be in for one hell of a summer.

When you arrive in La Pierrerie, it’s almost nine p.m., and you’re exhausted from your long journey and from carrying around such heavy suitcases. Still in complete silence, Sunghoon takes two of your bags and heads towards what you can only assume is your grandmother’s house. You go to follow him, but you soon notice your grandmother and another woman, who you guess is Sunghoon’s mother, sitting at a table, sipping on some lemonade. As soon as they see you arrive, they rush towards you (well, the woman does - your grandmother walks as fast as she can), helping you with the rest of your baggage. They kiss you on both cheeks as a greeting, starting from the right but you’re used to starting from the left, which almost makes your lips bump into each other. Thankfully, they laugh it off, and you make sure to remember the local custom to avoid future potentially awkward encounters.

The woman introduces herself as Mrs Park and tells you she lived next-door to your grandmother, just like you’d guessed. She says that she’s happy to meet you and hopes that you had a nice trip and that you weren’t too tired for the meal she and your grandmother had prepared for tonight. You like her instantly - her kind eyes and warm smile make you feel at home right away.

Your grandmother hugs you too, and you had to admit it felt nice seeing her after such a long time. Such a sweet welcome revives you a bit, and a nagging voice in your head tells you, see, this isn’t that bad, this summer might be good after all, but you quickly shut it down. Your stubborn nature wants you to hate this for at least a little bit, especially after the excruciating car ride you just had to sit through. You won’t show it to your hosts, obviously, because you want to be respectful, but you can at least scowl and curse your parents when nobody’s looking.

There’s no time for awkward silence and looking back and forth between the two women because as soon as the greetings are over, Mrs Park announces she’ll go heat up the food and get the last things ready while your grandmother shows you around her home, which would be yours for the next two months and a half, and lets you unpack for a bit.

Your grandmother’s house is on two floors. The ground floor is basically one big room, which the front door leads directly into. There’s the kitchen, the dining room and the living room. It’s all very open and bright, and you can tell it must be very warm when the sunlight poured directly through the large windows into the room at the right time of day. It’s simply decorated, with furniture that probably hasn’t been updated in a while but that is well maintained and looks cozy enough. Black-and-whites and photographs of fuzzy quality are hung on the wall of the dining room and you’re eager to take a closer look at them later on.

Upstairs are two bedrooms and the bathroom, as well as a mezzanine that’s a few steps lower than the rest of the floor and that looks over the living room. This is where your grandmother keeps her books and her trophies from her past very successful horse riding career. There are a couple armchairs in the corner and a window to bring more light in, and you’re sure this would make an amazing reading nook for late evenings or stormy afternoons.

Your room is not much more than a double bed, a chest of drawers, a cupboard to hang your clothes in and a few empty shelves. Your grandmother had told you you were welcome to bring any kind of decoration you wanted to make this room yours for the summer, so you’d taken with you a few posters and framed pictures as well as some babbles you liked looking at. She’d picked out some daisies from her garden and made a bouquet out of them, livening up the vase on your bedside table.

She sits on your bed as you put your clothes away (which you had brought so many of, you weren’t sure there’d be enough room to put them all in) and tells you how she’d come to live here with the Parks. This is something you like about her - she has many stories to tell, each more fascinating than the other, and she’s always willing to tell them.

Your grandmother had actually grown up not too far from here, on the other side of town. Her parents had signed her up for lessons every Wednesday afternoon for a few years, until her instructor recognised her potential and told her she could ride professionally if she wanted. So, she started having two-hour lessons four times a week. When she started winning local, then regional, then national championships, she moved to Perpignan to be taught by more qualified instructors in a more renowned riding club.

Years forward, she got pregnant and her career as a rider was over. When her kids were old enough, she got a job as an instructor and even managed a few athletes of the club in Perpignan, but she continued to visit her old club in Laroque once in a while, as she always did throughout her career. She’d seen it wear down and lose customers over the years to the point that at the end of the nineties, it was under threat of closing down. Her old teacher had long passed and her son and his wife had taken over. This son, who was a bit older than your grandmother, had worked there his whole life, but it wasn’t what he wanted to do - as the only son, he’d had no choice but to stay and take care of the club. However, he hadn’t wanted it to close that way, and he was still desperate to keep the club alive, especially because his own son truly loved it and wanted to take over and manage it once he was done with high school.

Your grandmother, with more money than she needed from her successful career and the inheritance she got from her husband’s passing, offered to buy the club from the Parks and manage its finances while they took care of the horses and of lessons. Her only condition was that she could move in in the other house on the property that wasn’t inhabited and needed a few renovations. They agreed immediately.

Mr Park graduated from high school in 1998, got married to the now Mrs Park in 2000, and they had their first child, Sunghoon, in 2002 - the same year as you. His parents moved out to the city and got new jobs that they liked a lot more while the club, thanks to your grandmother’s donations and Mr and Mrs Park’s hard work, prospered once again. It did help that an Olympic rider sometimes helped out with lessons and gave out advice for aspiring athletes.

And now, here you are, twenty years later, visiting her for the first time since you were probably six. You don’t have many memories from those few times you’d been here, so it was all new to you. Especially that Sunghoon boy, whom your grandmother was sure you would get along with based on how chummy you were back in 2008. When you were both six. You didn’t have the heart to tell her how he had been with you in the car.

“Sunghoon’s a bit shy, but once you get to know him, he’s a really good kid. Very passionate and hardworking. So is his sister Yeji, but she’s got different ambitions,” your grandmother muses.

“Oh yeah? What does she want to do?” you ask, genuinely interested, as you try to somehow fit another t-shirt into one of the drawers. You’d started out by folding them nicely but you’d soon given up and started stashing them into the corners.

“She wants to become a professional rider. Says she wants to become like me,” she explains with a small chuckle. “Well, she’s definitely got what it takes. I got her a spot in that bigger club in Perpignan I told you about, so she goes there after school twice a week, but she still trains here with me every weekend.”

“You give her lessons?” you ask, some surprise in your voice, which makes your grandmother laugh.

“What, you think I’m too old?” she jokes and you shake your head rapidly, but she doesn’t take any offense to it. “I can’t stand for hours and shout like I used to, but I can sit in the center of the riding hall and watch, then tell her what she needs to work on and what she’s doing well. She says it helps her, so I’m happy to do it,” she adds with a shrug. You nod as you open another drawer and decide this one will be for your underwear.

“What about Sunghoon?” You can’t help but ask, a bit curious about him. You doubted you could really chalk up his impoliteness to shyness, but you could still listen to what your grandmother had to say about him.

“He’s more like his dad, wants to take after the club. But he’s a very decent rider, too. If his sister hadn’t said she wanted to go pro so early on, I’m sure he would’ve. You know one thing that’s great about getting old?” she asks suddenly.

“No?”

“You observe people a lot more, and you understand them a lot more too. Well, now that I think about it, it might be just me,” she says, making you chuckle. “I don’t have a lot going on in my life, so I have more time to be nosy and see what others are up to. He’d never admit it, I don’t think, that he gave up on a potential riding career for his sister. He’s the type to make quiet sacrifices, and he loves his sister to death. He’d rather take over the club and watch her be happy than the opposite.”

You nod, an approving expression on your face. “Sounds like a good guy,” you say honestly, surprised that someone supposedly so kind could also be so rude.

“He is. Handsome, as well, by the way, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” she adds, a knowing smile playing on her lips, but you just roll your eyes playfully.

“That’s what mom said,” you reply, not wanting to admit that they are both right on the matter of Sunghoon’s handsomeness.

Sunghoon’s the one who opens the door when you and your grandmother knock. His expression when he sees you is the same as earlier, but you don’t have the time to ponder over his behavior, because quickly enough, two figures appear behind him. He steps to the side, letting enough space for you to come in, his harsh gaze never once leaving your face. You turn your attention to the figures, namely his father and a young girl who you guess is Yeji, and, thank God, they’re looking at you with wide smiles.

“You must be Y/N!” his father beams, and you nod, returning his smile and saying hi. He kisses you on both cheeks, and this time you remember to start from the right. “Welcome. We’re very happy to have you here, aren’t we, Sunghoon?”

He seems oblivious to his son’s clear distaste of you as he loops an arm over his shoulders, happily shaking one of them under his grasp. “Right,” Sunghoon says, voice monotone. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply with a slightly confused tone - what the hell was his deal? Usually, whatever energy someone gave you, you’d give it back to them. You’d have no problem being as rude to Sunghoon as he was to you if only his family didn’t seem so nice.

“I’ll go help Mom in the kitchen,” he announces and walks away. His father turns back to you and gives you an apologetic smile.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just shy. He’ll warm up to you eventually.” You nod, saying it’s okay.

Yeji then takes a step towards you, introducing herself as she goes in for the usual two kisses on the cheeks. “Hi, I’m Yeji!”

“Hi, so nice to meet you!”

“Me too, I’m really happy you’re here! It’ll be nice being with another girl,” she says, gesturing towards her oblivious brother with a tilt of her head. It takes a lot more effort to be nice than to be rude, you think, side-eyeing Sunghoon in your head.

“Are there not a lot of girls that come here for lessons?” you ask as she leads you inside the house, showing you where to take off your shoes and jumper.

“There are, but they only come here once a week and stay for a few hours, so it’s not the same. I’m stuck with my anthropoid of a brother most of the time,” she says, lowering her voice to make sure only you can hear what she says. You both laugh at her diss; nothing like bonding over hating boys with another girl. You can already tell you’re going to like her.

You ask if there’s anything you can do to help, but the Parks tell you to not worry about anything and sit down. You and Yeji join your grandmother who’s already sitting at the dinner table, and the three of you chat, or rather, you and Yeji chat while your grandmother listens. Or maybe she isn’t listening, you’re not sure.

Yeji is in her first year of high school. The prestigious riding club she is being taught at doubles as a school, so that’s where she’s been studying for the past few years, and she boards there as well, coming home every weekend unless she’s got important competitions coming up, in which case she stays there for a few weeks. Competition season is about to start, so she’ll be spending most of her time there this summer.

“And do you like it there?”

She looks slightly taken aback by your question, as if she’s not quite used to being asked about that. “I mean, yeah, yeah, I do. It’s nice being able to ride so often, and not having the stress of needing to figure out what I want to do next. But it is… you know,” her voice gets quieter, “a lot of pressure sometimes.”

Sunghoon walks in then, plates and cutlery in hand, and starts setting the table. Yeji’s face lights up at her brother’s arrival, using it to change the topic. “Sunghoon is studying to become a vet. He’s finished his two years of preparatory classes, so now he’s going to a vet school in Toulouse.”

He glares at his sister, but she doesn’t pay him any mind. “He graduated top of his class, you know.”

“Why are you telling her about me?” he interrupts.

Yeji just shrugs. “I’m telling her about us.”

“Well,” he says, putting down a plate in front of you and a fork and knife on each side of the plate, “she doesn’t need to know about me.” You can’t see his face but the cold tone of his voice and his presence right behind you are enough to send shivers down your spine. What the hell is his deal?, you wonder.

You look at Yeji, a confused look on your face, and she rolls her eyes as a dismissal of her older brother’s behavior. “Don’t ask me, cause I don’t know what his problem is, either,” she says, and you can’t help but chuckle.

Mrs and Mr Park walk in then, bringing in the main dish of duck confit as well as roast potatoes, vegetables and some bread. Mrs Park gives you the biggest chunk of meat and a load of sides, saying you must be famished after such a long trip even though you tell her you’d brought things to snack on. She says she’d hesitated between cooking Korean food or a typical French Southwestern dish but had opted for the latter, wanting to welcome you properly in the region. You thanked her and told her it looked amazing.

When everyone is served, you wish each other ‘bon appétit’ and start eating. You’re chewing on your first mouthful of duck and potatoes when Mrs Park asks you what you study. “Your grandmother said you were a med student?” she asks with a smile. Everyone looks at you except for Sunghoon, who only has eyes for his food.

You nod, waiting to swallow before answering, and Mr Park tuts his wife for not letting you eat. “I am. I passed my second year,” you say, earning yourself some congratulations, “and I’m starting my residency in a hospital in Paris next semester.”

“Do you know what part of the hospital you’ll be in?” Mr Park asks.

“We get to do turns, so we can see what we like. We give our school our top five choices, and then they put us in three departments for three months each, and then choose our favorite one based on the offers we get for the summer. I’m in the children’s ward first, then cardiology, then reeducation. We’ll also get to watch over surgeries.”

He nods, humming at your words. “And is that what you want to do later? I mean, work in one of those departments?”

“I’ve got time to change my mind, so I guess it depends how much I like being at the hospital, but I think I’d rather have my own cabinet after some time. I feel like overtime, you build more of a relationship with people, and it’s a lot less stressful, too,” you add with a chuckle.

Mr Park smiles and nods again. “Ah, I see. That’s nice. And would that be in Paris?,” he asks, and this time, it’s his wife that tells him to leave you alone, but you say it’s okay.

“Probably. It’s the city I know best, but nothing is set in stone.”

“You should come here!” Mrs Park perks. “Most people who live here are quite old - no offense, Nadine - ” (“None taken,” your grandmother says with a smile), but we’ve only got two doctors, and one is probably retiring in the next six to ten years.”

“You tell me to leave her alone, and then you tell her to move here,” Mr Park mutters, earning himself a small slap on the arm. They start bickering, and your grandmother just sighs and shakes her head.

“Young love,” she says, making everyone laugh. Even Sunghoon cracks a smile, and you get a glimpse of his dimples. As soon as he catches your gaze, his smile drops, and you turn your eyes away, your cheeks heating up. Yeji starts a new topic and soon enough you’re all chatting again. If it wasn’t for Sunghoon making it very clear he didn’t want you here, you’d already feel at home, just sitting at this dinner table.

When dinner is over, you insist on clearing the table and doing the dishes, saying you felt bad not doing anything. “I need to earn my keep,” you tell Mrs Park with a smile.

She laughs and says, “Oh, no need to worry about that, with Sunghoon showing you the ropes the next few days, you definitely will.”

Sunghoon perks up at the mention of his name. “What’s this about?” he asks, that crease still in his eyebrows. You find yourself wanting to stroke them with your thumbs and brush that frown away, but you quickly snap out of it. He may have a pretty face, but from what you’ve seen, that’s about all there is.

Mrs Park lets out a small puff of air through her nose. “We’ve talked about this, dear. You’re showing Y/N around the club tomorrow and Monday. It’s so you know how everything works before summer lessons start,” she explains, turning towards you.

“Why does it have to be me, though?” Sunghoon almost whines, and you want to scoff at him.

“Because your father and I said so,” his mother says, ending the conversation there, and you’re reminded of your own parents.

Sunghoon looks at you and frowns, so you raise your eyebrows back at him. It wasn’t your fault you were here or that his parents had designated him to show you around, so there was no reason you should make yourself small or apologetic for him. He scoffs and looks away. “Just be outside by eight a.m. tomorrow morning, okay?”

He doesn’t let you answer, just gives you one last hard look and walks away.

“Why are you wearing a dress?” Sunghoon asks as soon as you step outside the next morning.

“Good morning to you too, Sunghoon,” you reply sarcastically. You roll your eyes when he doesn’t say anything, just stands there, arms crossed over his chest, so you add, “Because it’s going to be hot today. And because it’s pretty.”

“This is an equestrian center, not a fashion show. You won’t be comfortable. Go put on a t-shirt and some shorts or some leggings. And wear sneakers, not sandals, Christ.”

You scoff and mirror his posture. “You don’t get to tell me what to wear, you know.”

He lets out a dry chuckle and rolls his eyes, a disbelieving smile on his face. “This might be a holiday for you, because it’s sunny and there’s nature everywhere, but this is work we’re gonna be doing. So, for your own sake, wear the right kind of clothes. But if you want to get horse saliva on your dress or step in horse shit wearing those shoes, be my guest.”

You glare at him for a few seconds, realizing that he’s right, and huff out an annoyed “fine,” stomping back into your grandmother’s house. “Be quick!” he calls after you.

You come back out five minutes later, wearing a tank top you usually use for sleeping, a pair of denim shorts and old sneakers your mother had told you to pack. “Took you long enough,” Sunghoon says, a true ray of sunshine, but you decide it’s better to ignore him. He barely talked to you yesterday, but now that it’s just the two of you and he has to, his words are somehow more annoying than his silence.

You stare at him unfazed and ask, “So, what’s first?”

He raises his eyebrows, seemingly surprised, but answers anyway. “Right. Follow me.” He heads towards a part of the farm that is attached to the riding hall and that your grandmother had pointed out yesterday evening as the reception and office area.

Sunghoon fishes a keyholder out of his jean pocket and slides open the door using one of the many keys he has. He goes to stand in front of a postboard and points to it. “This has the daily and weekly schedule on it. It’s a routine, so things don’t change much, but when they do, we add a post-it to the board. For example, the blacksmith is coming next Thursday to check horseshoes. That’s a post-it. Today, we’re cleaning out all the stalls and adding fresh straw. We do that every Monday, so it’s on the schedule. No post-it.”

“Right. That makes sense,” you nod. “Is that all we do today?”

“We do rounds first, but basically, yeah, because cleaning takes a long time. And Monday is technically our day off. No one comes in for lessons so we use that free time to clean out the stalls.”

You nod and Sunghoon chuckles at you, but you don’t have time to question him about it because he’s already off and you have no choice but to follow him. He leads you to a part of the farm on the other side of the courtyard and pulls out another key, pushing the door open to a wide three-and-a-half-wall room with rings attached to the walls every few meters. Three and a half because behind that space on each side are stalls, as Sunghoon points out.

“This is the prep room, where we get the horses ready before a lesson.”

“What do you do to get them ready?” you ask, looking around the room.

“You clean their coat and their hooves, brush out any tangles in their manes and tails, then saddle and bridle them. The club saddlery is over there,” he says, pointing to a door on your right. “Horse owners have their own stuff in lockers in another room.”

Apparently, you’re not checking out the saddlery today, because Sunghoon is already walking over to the stalls.

“Hi everyone,” he greets softly. You follow him closely as he walks on one side of the stables, petting each horse as he walks past them or peering over the door to see how the sleeping ones are doing, and then does the same thing on the other side. He greets each horse by name, and even though it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he remembers each and every one of them, it still does. You tell him exactly that, and he chuckles.

“What would you think of a teacher that doesn’t know their students’ names? This is kind of the same,” he explains. He shows you the stacks of hay and straw at the end of the stables, and explains that they bring it here from the fields every once in a while because it’s more convenient, and that this is what you’ll be using later.

When he’s checked that everything is okay, he opens the door on the other side of the room leading outside. On your right stands a huge pile of manure, and you can’t help but make a stank face at the odor hitting you right in the nostrils. Sunghoon chuckles again (can he please stop chuckling at you for no reason?) and reassures you by saying they’re emptying it soon. “The farmers use it for their crops,” he explains.

On your left, there’s another barn that you guess hosts more horses. He gets out yet another key and pushes the door wide open. Light fills the barn instantly, making the dust particles in the air visible, and you hear a few grunts and huffs from the horses - of annoyance at Sunghoon waking them up or of happiness at seeing him, you’re not yet qualified enough to say.

There are two other smaller, one-sided stables next to the riding hall where he takes you and does his rounds again. When he’s all done, you follow him to the riding hall where he opens two doors on each side, that way you can walk through it to get to the pastures in the back rather than walk around the whole center, and takes down the electric cables that serve as an entrance to the pastures. He doesn’t explain any of this, however, so you sort of have to guess. Wordlessly, you head back to the last stables you were in and there, he throws a bunch of what you think are harnesses at you.

“What are these?” you ask dumbly, looking at the thing in your hand.

“They’re halters,” he says, and when you just stare wordlessly, he adds, talking as if it were obvious, “you put them around the horse’s head so you can take them places?”

“Right. Can you show me how to put one on?”

He sighs but obliges; he doesn’t have much of a choice anyway. Not your fault that he’s lived here all his life whereas you’ve encountered a horse maybe three times in your twenty years of life.

He demonstrates how to put a halter on and watches over you as you practice it on an old and tired-looking white horse. When you manage to do it somehow quickly, he says, “there you go,” and you’re surprised to not hear any sarcasm in his voice. However, when he pats the horse’s forehead, you have a feeling the praise was more directed towards her than you.

You walk side-by-side to the pastures, you with the white horse, whose garrot reaches your shoulder, and Sunghoon leading a small pony in each hand. They have to walk quickly to keep up with his strides and you can’t help but laugh at their cute swaying hips.

“How old is she?” you ask Sunghoon, head tilting towards the horse you’re walking with.

A soft smile cracks on Sunghoon’s lips, perhaps the first smile you’ve seen on him today. “That’s Nellie,” he answers quietly, looking at the horse in question. “She’s turning 20 this December. We were only born a few days apart.”

“Wow, so you grew up together, that’s pretty cool,” you say honestly, and Sunghoon’s eyes settle on you for a few seconds, eyebrows raising a bit as if surprised by your words.

“Yeah, it is,” he says, looking back in front of him. “My parents taught me how to horse ride with her. And she’s the only horse that belongs to the club whose papers actually state that I’m her owner. All the others have my parents’ name or the club’s on theirs.”

“Ah, so she’s your horse,” you say, looking at Nellie and smiling. You’d have imagined a much taller, handsome and dark-haired horse for him, but this somehow matches as well. It makes Sunghoon appear sweeter, for some reason.

“Yeah,” he says simply, but you don’t miss the small smile on his lips. So maybe there is a way to get to know Park Sunghoon, you think.

Once in the pastures, he shows you how to release a horse safely in case they get excited about being outside and hurt you accidentally or run away. Thankfully, these horses know better than to do that sort of stuff, so it’s very unlikely that anything will happen, he explains, but you’re always better safe than sorry. You head back to the stables in a silence a bit less awkward than before and do the same things with the three other horses in those stables. Not much is said, but you don’t want to force the conversation. He just explains to you that these few horses work well together in the pastures, but that it’s not always this easy.

“Horses have a herd instinct, so they need to be with each other, but also not with anyone. You know how wolf packs have alphas and betas and stuff?” he asks, and you nod. Your friends and you had an obsessive Teen Wolf phase when you were in middle school. “Well, horses kind of have that too, because there’s a hierarchy in their herds. So there’s usually one leader, a mare, and some others that just get along.”

“How do you know which horses get along, though?”

“You just have to observe. You can tell pretty quickly which horses are going to have a leader or a follower type personality. Just put two leaders together, and they’ll clash instantly. It can get pretty bad pretty quick, so the first few times you put certain horses together outside, you really have to watch over them and be careful.”

“That’s so interesting,” you say after a few moments. “I never knew horses to have such complex relationships,” you say, and he smiles.

“Horses are really cool,” he says, and immediately grunts. “That was such a loser thing to say.”

You can’t help but laugh at his self-realization, but quickly reassure him. “No, it’s not. It’s something you’re passionate about, of course you’re gonna find them cool,” you say, and the smile he gives you as an answer shouldn’t make your heart beat that much faster, but it does, and you don’t know how to feel about that. You’re just glad he’s being nice to you - bare minimum, but still, a small victory.

“Time for the hard part, now,” he says when all five horses are happy in the pasture. You follow him to a toolshed where they keep tools, of course, but also two empty wheelbarrows and snacks for the horses like grains, carrots and salt blocks. He tells you to grab a shovel as he rolls out a wheelbarrow and you head back to the stalls together.

There’s nothing complex about shoveling dirty hay and horse shit into a wheelbarrow, but by God is it a draining task. The shovel itself is heavy, so having to pick all that stuff up, heave it back into the cart, and then repeat for who knows how many times is a real burden on your poor back and arms. You definitely let Sunghoon know how hard this is for you, what with all the sighs and loud breaths and grunts you’re letting out. You’ve barely finished cleaning one stall out when Sunghoon is starting his third, and you can tell he’s not happy about it.

“If you complained less, you’d work faster, you know,” he says, that scowl back on his face.

“I can’t help that I’ve never done anything like this in my life,” you chide back, out-of-breath and wiping some sweat from your forehead.

“Yeah? All the hard tasks usually done for you, princess?”

His scowl turns into a small smirk as he looks at you, and you curse your heart for doing a flip when he chuckles at your dumbfoundedness. It’s just a stupid nickname, you tell yourself, no need to get so worked up over it.

“I’ve never had any hard tasks like this in the first place,” you say, moving on to the second stall. “My body isn’t made for it.”

“Well, it’ll have to get used to it.” Yesterday, his mother had also told you you’d get used to it, as a way of reassuring you; but Sunghoon’s words are a far cry from his mother’s, and are more of a threat than anything.

Another few minutes and you’re done, Sunghoon watching you as you finish cleaning your designated stall. You dump everything at the manure pile, then head to the straw pile and fill the wheelbarrow to replace the dirty straw with fresh one in the stalls. And then, you only have to do that four more times. Easy enough, right?

No. Not easy.

The only semi-easy part is taking the horses out of their stalls and tying the rope that are attached to their halter to a ring in the prep room, except some horses are less compliant than others and you end up having to call Sunghoon a couple times so he can take care of them for you.

The whole time you’re heaving manure into the wheelbarrow, you’re complaining. At first, it was the stank that had really gotten to you - as one can imagine, hay infused with horse piss and shit doesn’t smell like fresh linen. But somehow, you got used to it - maybe the physical exertion forced you to forget about the smell and focus on the pain taking over your whole body.

You huff and puff as you feel the heavy weight of the shovel in your arms and shoulders every time you need to lift it up and bring it back down. The pain in your upper back from years of carrying your backpack on one shoulder makes itself known, and after half an hour you’re whining that you can feel muscle scores coming in your whole body.

“They’ll probably stay for a whole week too,” you mumble to yourself, but still loud enough for Sunghoon to hear.

“You’ll get used to it, I told you. In a few weeks this will feel like nothing.” When you only grunt in response, he adds: “I usually do this on my own, you know. You’re lucky you’re only doing half of the work. Or more like one fourth, with the speed you’re going at.”

“Why don’t your parents or sister help you out?” you ask as you lean against the stall wall, using the distraction of a conversation to take a break.

“My parents already work all week when I’m not there, giving lessons and taking care of the club, so it’s the least I can do to help out on weekends and during my breaks. And my sister already works hard enough at her school so I want her to relax when she’s here,” he replies, never stopping his shoveling.

“But you work hard too, don’t you? I mean, your sister said you were top of your class. You should get a break too.”

His movements halt for a split second only. If your words have any sort of impact on Sunghoon, he doesn’t want to let you know.

“I just study hunched over my desk all week. It’s nice to do something physical, and I don’t mind the time alone.” You’re not sure whether this is an excuse he’s come up with for himself or if he’s telling the truth, but his tone is so final and you understand that he’s done with the conversation, so you pick up your shovel and get back to work. You don’t complain for the rest of the morning.

When you’re finally done with the stalls, you bring back the horses you had walked to the pastures so that others can enjoy the free space and green grass. That’s when you run into an obstacle.

No matter how much you pull, coax, or stare impatiently, this horse won’t budge. Sunghoon rests his back and one foot against the plastic half-wall of the riding hall, chuckling at how awfully you and Dona are getting on. He’s already brought back the other five horses to their stalls and has nothing better to do than be useless, apparently.

After a few minutes of you trying to negotiate with Dona, to no avail, Sunghoon finally speaks up, just loud enough for you to hear. “Stop staring at her. Horses get nervous when you stare too much.”

You scoff. “But she won’t move! I’m trying to show her the desperation in my eyes!” you shout back, and turn to the horse who only peers at you with empty black eyes.

“Don’t shout. Horses don’t like it when you shout,” Sunghoon simply answers, propping himself off of the wall and taking his sweet time walking towards you. When he reaches you and Dona, he takes the tether from your hands and says, “C’mon, Dona,” without even looking at the horse, who immediately follows, no questions asked.

You stand there dumbfounded and mouth O-shaped as you watch the two of them stride away calmly, running after Sunghoon when your shock dissipates. “Don’t run,” he says when he hears your quickly approaching footsteps, “horses don’t like it when you run.”

“My God,” you say, already out of breath, “how many things do horses not like?”

“Quite a few,” he answers matter-of-factly, although you meant your question more rhetorically than anything.

“How did you do that, anyways?” you ask when your breathing returns to normal.

“Well, mainly, it’s just because she knows me and knows to listen to me,” he explains, turning his head just a bit to look at you as you walk back to the main stables, the sun making itself shy behind the tall trees even though it’s nearing midday. A warm breeze blows, sweeping your ponytail to the side and rustling the leaves on the trees. “But also, horses need to be told what to do, not asked. Your attitude needs to be, ‘we’re going back now,’ not, ‘hey, wanna go back?’” You nod slowly at first, then faster when the words start making sense in your head. Sunghoon wants to make fun of you but finds it sweet that you’re at least trying to understand.

“Right,” you say after a few moments. “It’s not very nice, though,” you add, causing Sunghoon to tilt his head and frown his brows, silently asking you to go on. “Well, I’m sure Dona would like a say in the matter.”

He once again contains his laughter because you look so serious and he doesn’t want to make you feel bad, but ultimately fails and snorts at your comment, making you look up at him, bewilderment written all over your face. “What? I’m being serious!”

“I know you are,” he chuckles, “but don’t worry, Dona doesn’t mind having to go home. And if it was up to her, she’d stay out all night.”

Sunghoon tells you some anecdotes about the club and its occupiers on your way back, making you giggle at some of the mischievous things the horses have gotten up to. He’s more talkative than this morning which takes you slightly aback, but you’re not going to complain about the change. You were dreading having to spend your summer annoyed at a cute boy you’d have to see every day, so you’re glad his first impression is drastically different from what he’s actually like.

You and Sunghoon part ways a bit before noon, and you plop down on the couch as soon as you get to your grandmother’s house. “Tough morning, huh?,” she calls from the kitchen. You only have enough energy left to hum a small “yes” back. She chuckles at you, then tells you to take a shower before having lunch. You spend the rest of your day sunbathing on a deckchair in the backyard, taking some time to relax before what you’re sure will be a tiring week.

One thing you learn during that week and the weeks after that is that Sunghoon has his fair share of fangirls. As a female-dominated hobby, most of the club members are teenage girls who love horses and cute boys.

Tuesday morning before lessons start, he shows you basic things like how to properly groom a horse and how to put their saddles and bridles (which is actually a lot harder than it looks - putting your thumb in a horse’s mouth seems a bit counterintuitive), just in case you ever need to get a horse ready for whatever reason. You’re going to be here for two months, so might as well learn things like these.

While you help him walk some horses to the pastures, he explains that summer lessons are different in that instead of learners coming once or twice a week, they come all day from Tuesday to Friday and then pass an exam on Saturday morning if they want to. Since both his mother and father teach, they’re able to have two separate groups, one for riders who come for more laidback lessons with games and walks in the fields nearby, and one for those who want to improve their skills in an intense week of both practical and theoretical lessons.

There isn’t much you can do on your own, so after you’ve gone around the stables giving grains to the horses that need them, you join Sunghoon outside in the courtyard as he cleans and greases some saddles and bridles that are starting to wear out. It’s fairly easy to do and he lets you help out, so you sit outside together in silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face. That is, until you start noticing the girls.

You don’t want to pay them any attention, but what with the way they wave shyly at Sunghoon and giggle when he waves back, a smile you can’t describe as anything but dazzling adorning his lips, it’s impossible not to. Some of them even call out his name, saying “hi” in the sweetest way they can. You don’t blame them: had you been fifteen and seen a boy as pretty as Sunghoon, you probably would’ve acted similarly, especially if you got to see him on a regular basis.

What gets on your nerves, however, is how much Sunghoon enjoys it: you can tell by the smirk that won’t leave his face the whole time or the way he makes them all swoon by remembering their names. Bare minimum, you think to yourself once again, but you don’t say anything. Even if slightly infuriating, it’s also entertaining, seeing Sunghoon enjoy himself this way. You would’ve thought he was the type to want to be by himself at all times, unbothered by anyone, yet here he was, blushing at all the attention he was receiving.

After a girl who had come up to him (sparing you a confused “hi” when she saw your unfamiliar face but quickly turning her attention back to Sunghoon), wanting to know how his year at school had gone, skips giddily away, you can’t help but tease him.

“I can’t believe you’re liking this so much,” you say with a smile, keeping your attention on greasing the leather parts of the bridle.

Sunghoon looks up at you, a semi-offended look on his face. “I’m just being nice.”

“I didn’t know ‘just being nice’ entailed letting yourself be showered in compliments and winking at fifteen year-old girls. Aren’t you turning twenty?”

“I’m not- I didn’t- Whatever,” he gives up, a pout on his face as he returns to work. You nudge his shoulder, making him crack a smile, and you feel like you won the Grand Prix of something.

Another thing you learn that week is that there’s a lot of going back and forth with Sunghoon. One minute he’s laughing at your jokes and acting like a normal human being, and the other he’s giving you the cold shoulder as if he suddenly doesn’t want you around anymore. Sometimes, these changes in his attitude are so quick, they give you whiplash.

You learn to not pay too much attention to these mood swings, not wanting to create any problems for yourself. He seems to be happy when you ask him about horses, so you often come up with the most random things you can think to ask, and he always patiently answers even the dumbest of questions. However, his patience is much quicker to run out when you complain about any task you’re given, so you settle on glaring at the back of his head.

Thankfully, you’re actually a lot less busy than you thought you would be. Your tasks consist mainly of cleaning the stalls, feeding the horses, and taking care of the ones who are too old or have some kind of illness and can’t be mounted. You bring them to the pastures, where they spend a lot of their time, then brush out the dirt and dust embedded in their fur after rolling around on the ground. These horses are often the most affectionate, gently nuzzling your hands when you try to clean their face and huffing happily when they see you arrive.

You do this a couple times a week and Sunghoon often joins you, bringing Nellie out and attaching the rope of her halter next to the horse you’re taking care of so he can groom her as well. These are the moments when he’s in his best mood and he lets you blabber away, talking about random things and concerns in your life as he listens and nods, sometimes sharing some of his as well, letting you take a peek into his closed-off world. You find that you have actually quite a lot in common, with you being in med school and him in vet school, which are both intense and high-pressure. Yet, there’s always something that’s quite surface-level about these conversations; students will always easily bond about the stress of deadlines and horrible professors. You want to dig deeper, but something tells you that Sunghoon will quickly shut you down, and you’re okay with waiting for a bit. You’re just glad he hasn’t been the way he was with you that first day the whole time and that he’s actually talking to you and even sending a smile your way once every now and then.

You also hang out with Yeji quite a lot. Even though she’s on her summer break, competition season means she spends four days a week at her boarding school to train and the other three days at the club, trying to enjoy her summer like any other normal high schooler as best as she can. She doesn’t say much more on how she feels about training so much, only slightly hinting at her level of stress and fatigue like she had done at the dinner table, and you can tell it’s a touchy subject, so you don’t pry.

It does take your body a few days to get used to being outside in the sun and walking around all day, so your first week at the club, you head home as soon as you’re done with your tasks and take a shower then help your grandmother with dinner, spending your evenings reading or playing Scrabble with her (she’s an impressive player, by the way, and has taught you many words). Every Sunday night, you have dinner with the Parks, although Mrs Park also sometimes urges you into her house at one p.m. with the promise of delicious food.

On your second Wednesday there, however, you feel like going out in the evening. After a really hot week, it had stormed during the night that made Tuesday turn into Wednesday which had made the air feel less heavy and more refreshing, so doing anything was a lot less energy-consuming than it had been before. It’s nine p.m. and the sun is low in the sky when you tell your grandmother you’re going to explore the property some more. You know there’s a path that goes behind the pastures to a forest and that is used for horse rides and walks, so you make your way there and follow it.

The mud is still a bit soft from all the rain of the night and morning and you can tell apart footsteps as well as hoof and dog paw prints. The trees on each side on the path are so full of leaves that they make a sort of arch overhead, barring any of the remaining sunlight from entering and casting a shadow all over, and you wish you’d have brought a thin jumper with you. It feels nice to be outside when the sun isn’t making you feel like your skin will melt right off of your body, though.

You’ve been walking for about fifteen minutes, stopping here and there to look at a flower or snap a shot of the clouds you can see through the trees when you reach a clearing. It’s completely empty, the trees making way for a vast patch of just grass and small daisies, so of course you see him immediately.

A couple hundred meters away from where you’re standing is Sunghoon on a tall, ginger horse, galloping in circles. You don’t know much about horse riding, but you can tell that he knows what he's doing from the way he holds himself and directs the horse. His back is straight and his legs are pressed against the horse’s flanks, his hips moving in perfect synchronization with the horse’s strides so that he stays seated on its back rather than bounces like you’ve seen many less advanced riders do. The horse’s neck rounds and its head stays down, making its steps light and refined, and Sunghoon holds the reins long and low on each side of the horse’s garrot so he can gallop in a continuous circle.

The sight is breathtaking.

You’d always thought that horses had a certain grace to them, especially such tall and slim horses like the one right in front of you, and Sunghoon, with his perfect stance and control, somehow brought even more of that grace out. It was clear that it took a lot of work and talent to reach such elegance.

Although he seemed highly concentrated on what he was doing, Sunghoon noticed you after a minute of you standing there, all but gawking at him. You see him chuckle as he subtly changes his position on the horse and slows to a trot, heading towards you.

“Hey,” he calls out when you’re within hearing distance of each other. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just… taking a walk,” you say, pointing to the path behind you with your thumb but your gaze not leaving Sunghoon, still wearing an expression of astonishment on your face. “Sunghoon, that was- I mean, just, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. You looked amazing,” you say, unable to keep your honesty at bay. If the girls from the club had seen him ride like this, then you were definitely starting to understand why they were so smitten over him - you felt almost starstruck.

He chuckles again and looks down bashfully, hoping the dim light hides his growing blush from you. “Thanks. I wasn’t really doing anything special.”

“Not anything special, are you kidding? I’m serious, that was awesome. It was like- like a figure skater gliding, or like a ballet dancer doing turns or something,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

Your grin gets even wider when he lets out a giggle at your words, immediately covering his mouth with his palm when he hears the sound he’s made. He really does have a thing for being paid attention to and praised, you note.

“So you were just on a walk?” he asks awkwardly as a way of changing the subject, scratching the back of his head.

“I needed some fresh air, I guess. Plus, I’ve only been staying in the club, so I thought I’d take a walk around.”

“I can show you around when I’ve got time this week, if you want.” His offer seems to come as a surprise to the both of you, but you nod anyway, grateful for the extended hand.

“That’d be nice,” you say. You’re not sure what’s happening when you two stay there for a few seconds, just smiling shyly at each other, but you don’t hate it.

“Have you ever been on a horse?” he asks, breaking the silence first.

“Well, just a couple times, but it wasn’t lessons or anything, so I don’t know if it counts- wait, wait, what are you doing?”

A sudden mischievous smile has made its way to Sunghoon’s features as he dismounts, bringing the horse next to you. “Wanna try, then?”

“No,” you say with a pointed look. “No way. That horse is taller than me, Sunghoon, I’m not getting on him.”

“Oh c’mon, I promise you it’s not scary, and I’ll be holding onto the reins the whole time. We can just walk back to the club like this.” His eyes are working hard to convince you, and his small pout makes what little resolve you had crumble.

“Fine. But you better not let go of that horse.”

“I won’t,” he says, and something about his tone makes your qualms dissipate.

You walk over to where he’s standing on the left hand side of the horse and hook your left foot in the stirrup. Sunghoon instructs you to place your hands on each end of the saddle and hoist yourself up. It requires a lot more arm strength than you’d have imagined after seeing so many riders do it effortlessly, but Sunghoon is there to help you up as soon as he sees you struggling, two strong hands coming up to hold you at the waist and lift you onto the horse. You tell yourself it’s the physical exertion and not his touch that renders you breathless.

“Wow,” you say when you look around you, almost two meters above ground.

“Pretty cool, isn’t it?”

A small giggle escapes your lips. “Yeah. Pretty cool.”

“How does it feel? Are you sitting okay? Here, I’ll change the stirrup length so they fit you. Or we can just cross them over the saddle, since you won’t really need them, anyway.”

“No, I’d rather wear them, please,” you say, and your slight anxious tone makes Sunghoon chuckle.

When he’s done adjusting the stirrups for you and made sure you’re comfortable, he shows you how to hold the reins properly and tells you how to get the horse to start walking. “We usually teach beginners that you knock your heels against their flanks, but because Flame has only been mounted by more advanced riders, he might not like that. Don’t panic,” he reassures as soon as he sees your eyes go wide, “just press your calves against him instead of using your heels. Here, see? I’m holding him by the front of the reins, so he won’t run off.”

“Right, right,” you breathe out. Sunghoon’s right there, so there’s no reason to stress about this.

“Good. Just a small pressure from your calves, and we’re good to go.”

Flame is very reactive, already started walking when you’ve barely squeezed your legs against him. With Sunghoon practically directing the horse for you, you realize there’s nothing for you to do but enjoy the ride.

“This feels nice,” you say as you try to get used to Flame’s quick but steady rhythm. Sunghoon’s smile is better than any other spoken answer he could’ve given you. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you decide to speak up.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Sunghoon replies, looking up at you.

“Why were you so mean to me the first night I got here?”

He seems slightly taken aback by your question, but you get a glimpse of a guilty expression before he looks back down. “Right, sorry about that. I’ve kind of been feeling bad about it all week, but I was scared to bring it up.”

“It’s okay, I’m just curious about the sudden change is all,” you say.

“I just-” he starts, but then seems to think for a bit. “I’m not the best with strangers, for one. Plus, you were going to stay for the whole summer. I’ve built a routine for myself every summer here, and I don’t like it when something, or someone, disturbs my peace. Also, no offense, but I’m not a huge fan of you city folk. So many people at school have this weird prejudice against me for being from the middle of nowhere, so I’ve kind of got a low tolerance for them. So before I even met you, I didn’t really like you. Sorry, that’s harsh.”

You tell him not to worry about it. His words make you understand him a bit more, and you’re glad it doesn’t seem to be anything too personal against you. You tell him to go on and he sighs. “And you know, I talked with my parents and they told me it’ll be nice to have someone else around to help, and that your grandmother always talks highly of you, and that it was stupid to have decided in advance I wouldn’t like you, and I sort of agreed, but I couldn’t bring myself to be okay with it all. It’s like, we’ve been fine all this time, so why bring in someone new? My parents told me that technically this whole property belongs to your grandmother, and that she could bring anyone she wanted, and I couldn’t really say anything against that. But anyway, I told myself that if I just was cold and pretended you weren’t here, that it’d be fine. But then I- I saw you, and…” his words trail off here and he looks down as if embarrassed to say what comes next.

“And?” you pry, too curious not to.

You really have to focus to hear his words because of how low he mumbles them. “And you were really pretty…”

This confession that seemingly comes out of the blue makes your heart swell with satisfaction and you can’t help but tease him about it. “What was that? I didn’t hear you clearly.”

“Oh c’mon, you heard me. Don’t make me say it again.”

“I want you to say it again, though.”

He sighs and gives in. “Fine. I said you were pretty.”

You laugh, way happier than you should be at his words, and he whines at you to not make fun of him. “So you were mean to me because I was pretty? Doesn’t make much sense,” you taunt.

He sighs again, shaking his head a bit as if in disbelief he’s actually talking about this. “It’s just that… I wanted to be nice, I promise you I did, but I just… I’m not even sure myself. I think it just pissed me off even more, because it wasn’t like having to ignore some rando, it was having to ignore a really pretty girl, which obviously I don’t really want to do,” he says, and you laugh again. “But then you ended up being really nice as well and even funny, and I felt like an asshole for being mean. Which I should never have been in the first place, I know. I’m just… bad with strangers, like I said. Not used to them. It’s not an excuse for my behavior, though, so I’m sorry.”

You look at him with a smile and thank him for apologizing. Sadly, it’s a lot more than most nineteen-year-old boys would do, so you appreciate it. You spend the rest of the ride teasing him about how he thinks you’re pretty and how he was really acting like a tsundere, earning a few embarrassed chuckles from him. Something about getting him flustered just gets you going: his shy smile that reveals a pair of dimples and another of fangs, the blush creeping on his cheeks as he looks down at his feet. Too adorable.

When you reach the entrance to the club, he helps you get off the horse, holding you when your knees almost buckle at the impact of your feet against the ground. For some reason, you weren’t expecting to be so high up, even though you had been on a nearly two-meter horse for the past fifteen minutes.

“You know, I could teach you how to mount, if you’re interested,” he says as you brush some horse hair from your leggings.

That’s the second offer Sunghoon makes you tonight; he’s really showing you his nice side now, you realize with a flip of your stomach. You could just say yes, that sounds fun, but instead, you decide to annoy him some more. “Didn’t know I was so pretty that the Park Sunghoon would offer to give me lessons!”

He rolls his eyes playfully and starts to walk away with Flame. “Forget it then.”

You giggle as you catch up to him and nudge his shoulder with yours. “I’d love to.”

From that day on, it’s a lot easier to be around Sunghoon. He still doesn’t let you complain, and you can tell the walls he’s built around himself have only shrunk by a few bricks, but at least his attitude doesn’t flip around anymore. He reveals a side of himself that’s goofier than you’d have imagined, cracking random dad jokes and making side comments that never fail to make you laugh. He’s also quite sensitive to your teasing, always looking away with a blush, mumbling a small whatever at your words, but his shy smile lets you know that he doesn’t actually mind it.

The riding lessons usually happen in between work breaks or at the end of the day, and after a few of them, you know how to get a horse to start, turn, and stop, and you don’t like a complete fool when the horse’s pace goes up to a trot, having mastered the art of sitting and standing at the right time. Sunghoon had shown you a few horses you could practice on and you’d gone for a piebald horse named Picasso whose garrot reached your chin, because the agglomeration of white hairs at the top of his otherwise black head formed a small heart.

Although you’d noticed from the get-go that Sunghoon was nothing less than gorgeous, it hadn’t hit you in the face until now that you could call him a friend, and every time he smiled or that the light hit his eyes a certain way, your heart skipped a few beats. At first, you told yourself that that was it - you found him pretty. That didn’t mean much more than you being able to recognise beauty, and it certainly didn’t mean you actually liked him as anything else than a friend.

That was until this one day, when he was giving you a lesson after everyone had left the club. In the south of France where temperatures often rise to the high thirties in the summer, heavy storms are bound to break out. This was one of those days - it had been raining the entire day, but it had calmed out a bit at the end of the afternoon which was why you had gone ahead with the lesson. However, twenty minutes into it, the rain got heavier again and thunder suddenly rang, loud and resonating in the emptiness of the fields. Horses are generally skittish creatures, and Picasso was no exception, the sound frightening him so much that he took off in a rapid gallop. In less than a fortnight of lessons you hadn’t developed the strong legs and quick reflexes of an advanced rider, and you were unable to keep up with him, falling off of him with a yelp, everything happening in the fraction of a second.

You fell right on your butt, the pain shooting off from there and spreading to your whole body and taking away your breath for three long seconds. You had barely the time to register what had happened that Sunghoon was already next to you, frantically asking if you were okay and telling you to stay still. He pulled his phone out and called Yeji, telling her to come to the riding hall quickly.

From your peripheral vision you could see Picasso pacing back and forth at the other side of the hall, as if to calm himself down. Sunghoon held you up with one firm hand planted on your back, his other hand resting on your arm as his thumb brushed your skin comfortingly. He helped you regain a normal heart rate by making you mirror his long and controlled breaths, worried eyes never once leaving your face.

Yeji got to the riding hall in no time and immediately spotted you sitting on the floor and Sunghoon crouching over you, but her brother asked her to please take Picasso back to his stall before she could walk over to the two of you. She nevertheless asked if you were okay and you nodded, trying to give her a faint smile that reassured both her and Sunghoon.

“You feeling better?” Sunghoon asked when your tears had finally stopped falling, wiping away the ones that had rained down your cheeks and reached your jawline.

You nodded, taking a deep breath through your nose that turned out to be useless when you opened your eyes and realized how close Sunghoon was, face merely inches away from yours and arms wrapped around you, taking your breath away more than the pain had. “Y-yeah, I’m fine, more shocked than anything.”

He let out a chuckle of relief and brushed the hair away from your face, fully putting your heart and lungs out of order. “I’m glad. Falls always happen when you first start out riding, but they’re still really scary. I was worried you got badly hurt for a second there,” he says simply, and before you can even process his words, he asks, “Are you feeling ready to get up?”

You can only nod, looking up at Sunghoon like he saved you from a near-death experience as he helps you up. If he notices your gawking, he doesn’t say anything, and you’re thankful for it. In your three weeks of knowing each other, you’ve been the one to tease Sunghoon and make him unable to say anything. Even just in general, you’re used to being the flirt that makes boys blush - very rarely were they able to do the same to you, even though they all tried their hardest. Yet Sunghoon, without even realizing it or doing it on purpose, had just made your heart flutter and your brain draw a blank. You wished you could blame it on the shock you just had and the pain still making your legs weak, but you’re reminded of all the times a simple smile or passing touch had put you in the same state, and you know you’d be a fool to continue on ignoring them.

It takes you literally falling flat on your ass to realize you have feelings for Park Sunghoon.

Unsure what to do with this newfound information, you decide to keep things between you and Sunghoon as they were. You’ll be leaving at the end of August anyway, no need to make things awkward for the remainder of your stay. Although some moments make you wonder if he might feel some kind of way for you too, you try not to think too much of them and enjoy your friendship as is.

When you’ve reached a level where you being on a horse isn’t a danger to yourself or those around you, Sunghoon keeps his promise of showing you more of the premises and you go on horse rides together, allowing you to discover random creeks and benches that were placed in the middle of nowhere. You go on these a few times a week when you’re all done with your tasks of the day and the raging heat of the sun has somewhat calmed, and to your surprise, you actually really enjoy being out in nature, even though bugs are still a very much unwelcome part of it.

One day he mentions vet school and you’re reminded of your grandmother’s words on your first night here about how it wasn’t particularly what he wanted to do, so you ask him about it. He turns to you with a stunned look on his face. “I didn’t know she knew about that.”

“She told me she noticed a lot of things like that.”

He turns his head again and gazes up at the sky. “Well, she’s not wrong. It’s my parents that wanted me to go to vet school. I’d be happy just taking care of the club and making a living that way, but they say they don’t need my help year round and that it’s better for me to take up a better job.”

“For someone who doesn’t want to do it, it’s very impressive that you’re top of your class.”

He chuckles shyly and a blush appears on his cheeks. “Did Yeji say that? I only got the top grade for a couple of subjects, not all of them,” he says, making you scoff as if to say ‘still, very impressive.’ “And you know, I still like it and find it interesting, and if I’m doing it, might as well give it my best and make my parents proud.”

“Yeah, I get that. My parents are both doctors so there was never any doubt in either their or my mind that I’d become one too, until I started my first year and realized that maybe I could’ve done something else.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

You turn your head to look at him and he mirrors you. “Cause if I’m doing it, might as well give it my best and make my parents proud.”

You both look away with a chuckle. “Guess we’re more similar than I thought we were,” he says, taking you aback, but you’re very glad he thinks that way. You turn to your side, leaning against your elbow as you peer down at him.

“What about a riding career? Had you ever thought about that?”

“God, yeah,” he answers without any hesitation. “My parents signed me up for a few competitions when I was younger, and I won a couple. It made them happy, so I was happy, but I also actually really liked it. My parents never really asked how seriously I wanted to take it, though, and I didn’t say anything, so when Yeji started showing a lot of interest in competitions and becoming a professional rider they focused their attention on her and assumed I didn’t really mind, I guess. I never tried to prove them wrong. As I said, I’d be fine just taking care of the club.” He sighs and pauses for a second. “She was really young when she said she wanted to have a horse riding career, and my parents just ran with it. Now that she’s older and it takes up basically ninety percent of her life, I can tell it’s a lot of pressure on her. But it’s too late to switch places and she’s the same as me, doesn’t want to let down our parents. I just hope she won’t push herself too much, you know.”

You nod, listening intently to his words. “I’m sure you’ll be there to watch over her if she ever does. You seem like a good older brother.”

He smiles and looks up at you. “I try to be.” He reaches a hand up to your face and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The sudden, unfamiliar and intimate gesture takes you by surprise and as soon as he registers your wide eyes and agape lips he retracts his hand, apologizing. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird, I just- I don’t- I’m sorry,” he stammers, looking away with a blush.

You don’t say anything for a few seconds, too stunned by what just happened, and he looks back at you, calling out your name in a small voice. His worried expression immediately crumbles when you start laughing. “It’s fine,” you say between giggles. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief and smiles again. “Sorry, I just did it without thinking. My friends and family are always super touchy so I’m just used to that sort of thing.”

“I’m the opposite,” you say, and Sunghoon raises his eyebrows. “My parents aren’t very affectionate. I mean, they tell me they’re proud of me, and buy me gifts and stuff like that, but we never hug, or say we love each other. You’ve seen my grandma, right? The only time she’s hugged me in the almost three weeks I’ve been here was the very first day, and that’s because we hadn’t seen each other in six months.”

Sunghoon nods and hums at your words. “Yeah, now that you say that, your grandma isn’t the type to hug, or, I don’t know, pet your hair or anything, even though I’ve known her basically my whole life. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says, and you shake your head.

“No, don’t worry, you didn’t. It was actually… kinda nice,” you admit, looking away from him quickly.

“Really?” he asks with one of the widest grins you’ve ever seen on him, and you can’t believe this is the same boy that glared at you as he opened the door just a few weeks ago. You look at him from the corner of your eyes for a few seconds, trying to hide your smile, but give in and nod.

He opens his arms wide and says, “Come here,” and you look at him in disbelief.

“As in…” you say, pointing with your index finger to his chest, and he nods, blinking slowly. You scoff but do it anyway, resting your head on his chest, and a weird but warm bubble envelops your insides as he circles your waist with an arm and caresses your hair with his other hand.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, sending shivers down your spine.

“Yeah,” you whisper back. “This is okay.”

One Friday morning when he’s grooming Nellie and you’re braiding Picasso’s mane, he tells you he’s driving to the city tonight to meet up with his friends. “We’re just going to McDonald’s and then the cinema… and they’re kinda losers, you know, but it’d be fun if you came too. If you want to, I mean,” he offers, his shyness preventing him from looking you in the eyes. When you say you’d love to, his whole face lights up.

The day passes and when the clock strikes six p.m., you walk out of your grandmother’s house and find Sunghoon who’s waiting for you, back resting against his parents’ car. Hands in his pockets and sunglasses on, you can tell he’s trying to look cool and it makes him all that much more endearing to you. He fixes his posture and takes his sunglasses off when he sees you approaching, as if trying to get a better look; he’s seen you wear cuter outfits than tank tops and denim shorts for the dinners with his family but you’ve never worn such a pretty dress, and his heart speeds up at the mere sight of you.

“Like what you see?,” you say when you’re closer to him, twirling around in your dress.

“You look beautiful,” he says, and the look on his face must not be far from the one you wore when you saw him with Flame in that clearing a couple weeks ago.

His honesty makes you a bit shy, and you thank him as you ruffle his hair on your way to the passenger seat of the car. He stands there dumbfounded for a second until you call out his name, getting him back down to reality.

On your way to Perpignan, he tells you about his friends Heeseung, Jay and Jake, and how they all met two years ago. He shared a dorm with Jay and Jake in their first year of preparatory classes, and Heeseung, in the year above, was assigned as his mentor. They all clicked instantly and have been practically inseparable ever since, although they all live quite far away from each other, which is why it’s easiest to meet up in Perpignan when they’re on break from their studies.

“Heeseung’s girlfriend will also be there. Her name is Yunjin, she’s really nice, so if the guys get annoying you two can just talk together.”

“Why, do you guys have a tendency to get annoying when you’re together?,” you ask lightheartedly, making Sunghoon chuckle.

“Not always, but it’s a possibility. They’re nice though, so don’t worry. Jay and Jake especially are outgoing, even though Jay kinda ruins the mood sometimes cause his jokes are just awful. Heeseung is a bit shy though, just don’t take it personal if he like, doesn’t really talk to you or anything.”

“That’s funny, that reminds me of someone,” you say with a smile, unable to stop yourself. Sunghoon just replies with one of his famous whatevers.

It takes you about an hour to get to Perpignan. When you arrive, his friends are waiting outside of the McDonald’s, the boys waving with their whole arms in your direction while Yunjin watches them cross-armed, a smile on her face. “Oh, God,” Sunghoon murmurs, already embarrassed by his friends. “They’re not always like that, I promise,” he says as you walk over to them.

“Really,” you deadpan when they’ve started chanting Sunghoon’s name, watching as his face turns a deeper shade of red.

“Hi guys,” he greets them, bro-hugging Heeseung, Jay and Jake and kissing Yunjin on each cheek. You remind yourself once again to start from the right and not the left, and greet the boys first. They all say “hi, Y/N” and give you their names, and you’re quite flustered that you don’t need to tell them your name.

“Sunghoon’s told us a lot about you,” Jake says with a knowing expression, and you all chuckle when Sunghoon mutters “shut up, Jake.”

You go to greet Yunjin next and you’re surprised when, rather than simply pressing the corner of her lips against your cheek like most people do when they greet someone they’re not particularly close to, she actually kisses your cheek, an extra-friendly gesture. “I was so relieved when Sunghoon said he was bringing a girl,” she confesses, reminding you of Yeji, “I can’t deal with having to babysit these four all the time. Look at them,” she says, gesturing towards the quartet with a nudge of her head. They’re sizing Sunghoon up, ruffling his hair, pinching his cheeks and brushing away invisible creases in his t-shirt as he tries to swat their hands away, to no avail, and you can’t help but laugh at them along with Yunjin.

You all head inside the McDonald’s, getting into pairs of two to pick your order on the giant touch screens. You choose a McChicken, potato wedges and ice tea, and Sunghoon chides you for getting wedges instead of fries.

“People who get those think they’re better than everyone else,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Because we are,” you say with a smile. You touch the screen to get to the payment page but Sunghoon goes back, saying he’ll order too.

“But I need to pay?” you say, looking up at him questioningly.

“I can pay for the two of us,” he says nonchalantly, and you tease him with an ‘ooh.’ “Shut up,” he mutters, already blushing, “just let me do something nice for you.”

“Fine,” you smile, nudging his shoulder with yours a bit. “Thanks. I’ll get the cinema tickets then.”

He turns to you abruptly, his eyebrows drawn in together. “But then that cancels out me paying for this…” he whines, and you give him a look as if to say, “yeah, exactly.”

“I don’t mind getting the tickets,” he says. “I get paid for my work at the club but I never spend any money, so, you know, I can get this for you. It makes me happy,” he mumbles, avoiding your teasing gaze.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you say, the nickname escaping your lips before you can stop it. He doesn’t seem to mind it; if anything, his blush gets deeper. You think he might end up eternally red at this rate.

“Of course.” He orders a double Big Mac, fries and a coke, and you tease him for getting such a boring meal. “They’re classics for a reason,” he defends himself.

You swear you’ve never seen him so red and so stuttery as when you get on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek as a thank you for paying, and you think there’s no way he could get any cuter than this. His friends don’t miss it and Jake punches him very obnoxiously in the shoulder as what you can only assume is a weird congratulatory gesture.

His friends are a bit annoying, but in a funny way, so it’s okay. You’re so unaccustomed to their very unique sense of humor that everything they say and do makes you laugh, whereas they’re used to behaving like that and don’t even question their weirdness anymore. Contrary to what Sunghoon told you, Jay’s jokes land with you every time, even when the whole table grunts.

Most of the conversation, to Sunghoon’s dismay, is spent telling embarrassing stories about him, which his friends have a lot of after having seen him drunk so many times. Heeseung asks you about how it’s been being with Sunghoon at the club, and you don’t really notice the sly smirk on his and Jake’s faces until you’re done answering. You tell them about all the things he’s made you do, but when you notice him about to complain, you add that it’s also been nice, learning how to ride a horse and spending time in the countryside.

“So you’ve seen Sunghoon ride, then?” Jake asks, and Heeseung’s snort tells you it’s not an innocent question.

“Yeah, I have,” you say, but it comes out more a question because their behavior confuses you.

Jake gives you a pointed look. “And, what did you think? I mean, it’s not the coolest sport out there, is it?” he asks, and the way Sunghoon looks down at his half-eaten burger is enough for you to put the puzzle pieces together.

You frown slightly. “Well, I think it’s a lot cooler than running after a ball and pretending like you’re gonna die when you twist your ankle,” you reply, remembering Jake’s mention of him playing soccer. Jay is quick to diffuse the tension when he sees Jake about to bite something back, saying to just talk about something else. You back off and look at Sunghoon, who seems to have completely spaced out and left the conversation. You rest your hand at the top of his knee, his attention snapping back towards you and he gives you a small smile, then turns to his friends and the conversation starts again as if nothing had happened. You’re thankful for it, because you don’t wanna create trouble the first time you meet them and make it awkward, but you really don’t appreciate his friends making him feel like he’s not “cool” because he’s a horse rider; there’s already enough stigma about it being a girls’ sport, he doesn’t need any added pressure from them.

The rest of the meal goes well, Heeseung and Yunjin throwing fries at each other, and the table making fun of Jay for eating his McFlurry so messily. Apart from the horse riding comment and the fact that they love teasing him (which you do too, to be fair), Sunghoon’s friends are nice and make him laugh, so you relax around them once again, although you and Jake exchange a few tense eye contacts. You won’t feel sorry for defending Sunghoon, even if you’ve known him for three weeks and Jake has for two years.

When you’re done eating, you walk to the movie theater that’s just two minutes away, the boys ahead and you and Yunjin in tow. “I’m really glad you spoke up for Sunghoon earlier, and I’m sure he appreciated it too,” she says, just loud enough for you to hear. “I’ve tried speaking about it with Heeseung, but he and Jake just don’t seem to get that it actually annoys Sunghoon and they say it’s just for fun. I did horse riding when I was a kid, so I know how hard it actually is, and Jay is just a bit more mature than them, so we try to get them to stop, but they still do it a bit. Their humor is basically just making fun of everyone in their group, so sometimes they don’t know when to stop.”

You nod at her words, the situation a bit clearer now. “He should bring them to the club and show them how good he is,” you say. “Or better yet, make them get on a horse so they can see firsthand that it’s not the horse doing all the work like everyone says.” Yunjin laughs and agrees, saying she’d pay to see those boys on a horse.

You reach the cinema as you make a note to talk to Sunghoon about this later before you can forget. You ask Yunjin what movie you’re seeing, realizing you had no idea, and she rolls her eyes. “I wanted to go see the new Marion Cotillard movie, but the boys said it looked boring, so we’re going to watch some horror movie. I don’t even know the name, but I’m sure it’s just a rehash of the same tired haunted house plot.”

While Sunghoon gets the tickets, you sneak to the food counter and get two bottles of coke and a large popcorn to share with him. He complains that he could’ve gotten that but you shut him up with a tut.

“Are you good at watching horror movies?” you lean in and whisper when you’re seated and waiting for the movie to start while ads play, and you see him shiver slightly, but that might just be because of the aircon in the theater and not your proximity.

“What do you mean, am I good at watching them? Do you mean if I like them?” he asks, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he looks at you.

“No, I mean if you get scared easily. You can like them and watch them a lot but still get scared. I feel like you’d scream at all the jumpscares,” you add that later part just to tease him, and you know you hit bullseye when he looks away with a scoff, straightening in his seat.

“I guess they’re fun to watch, but no, I don’t get scared. And I’m definitely not going to scream.” He looks down at you with a smirk, his confidence hitting him out of nowhere as it sometimes does. “But I know you will, so feel free to hold onto my arm when you get scared,” he says, and it’s your turn to scoff and look away.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be alright,” you say just as the lights start to dim and the movie starts playing.

It takes a while for the movie to pick up, so the first half hour, you’re not really into it, paying more attention to the way your hand brushes against Sunghoon’s whenever you reach for the popcorn at the same time rather than to what is happening on screen. However, when a ghost with a very unpleasant face suddenly pops out, you can’t keep yourself from jumping in your seat and letting out a small gasp which Sunghoon would’ve made fun of, had he not been twice spooked as you were, the pieces of popcorn he was about to eat discarded somewhere at his feet because of the jumpscare.

You share a look with Sunghoon and when the both of you realize the other was completely bluffing, you burst into quiet giggles. He offers you his arm to hold onto again and you roll your eyes but take it anyway, glad for the reassurance his warmth brings you. You wrap one hand around his bicep and place the other in his hand, interlacing your fingers together, and for once you’re the shy one and can’t look him in the eye, keeping your gaze on the screen when you feel his eyes on you, surprised but pleased by your cute action.

You spend the rest of the movie like this, bodies turning towards each other every time something scary happens on screen as if instinctively going to the other to find comfort. If you weren’t in a public place, you probably would’ve ended up in his lap. Or he in yours, perhaps.

The loss of his warmth when the movie ends and the lights turn back on makes your heart a bit sad, and you already find yourself waiting for the time you’ll get to feel him next to you again. When you walk out of the theater, the sun’s finally set and the sky is starting to get dark. You all walk back to the parking lot, Heeseung, Jay, Jake and Yunjin ahead, talking about the movie excitedly and recalling their favorite scenes, but you and Sunghoon hang back a bit. He’s silent and for a second you’re worried all the hand-holding has made him awkward but when you look up at him, he gives you a smile that calms all your nerves in an instant.

Jake suddenly turns around to face you, walking backwards. “What did you two lovebirds think?” he asks.

“It was alright,” Sunghoon answers. “It had some scary scenes but I couldn’t really get into it.”

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause you two were too busy being all- ow!” Jake starts but is interrupted by a kick in the shins, courtesy of Jay.

“Can you read the room, just once in your life, bro?” he says, and Jake rolls his eyes but turns back around anyway, leaving you and Sunghoon to laugh at his friends’ antics.

When you reach the parking lot, you say goodbye to everyone, saying it was nice meeting them and you hoped to see them again soon. “If you can, you should try and visit the club at some point, it’d be nice seeing you there,” you tell Yunjin as you hug her goodbye.

The car ride home is silent at first, betraying both your and Sunghoon’s shyness. “Tonight was nice,” you start, wanting to start a conversation after a few minutes of just looking out the window.

Sunghoon responds immediately as if he’d been waiting for you to say something. “Yeah? I’m glad. I was scared you weren’t going to like my friends or something…” he says, glancing at you with a worried expression on his face.

“Well, I really liked Yunjin and Jay…” you trail.

“But?”

“But…” you sigh, too late to turn back, but unsure whether it’s your place to bring this up. “Heeseung and Jake were nice, you know, but that comment they made about you horse riding really brushed me the wrong way.”

“Aww,” Sunghoon coos, and you roll your eyes at his fake saccharine tone. “Did it make you upset for me?”

“It did!” you say, wanting Sunghoon to know you were serious. “Friends shouldn’t make fun of your passions. Plus you’re really good at it, and I’m sure they’d be impressed by you. I talked about it with Yunjin, you know,” you add before he can cut in. “She said it happens all the time and you’re used to it, but it’s not something you should have to put up with. You should have them over at the club some day.”

Sunghoon hums, pouting his lips a bit. “I don’t know… It’s not that big of a deal. It’s how we mess with each other.”

“You looked really down when they were saying those things, Hoon. You’re allowed to say when something bothers you. And if they don’t listen, then they’re assholes. I know you’ve been friends for a while now, and I’m not trying to make you cut them off by any means, but I think you should talk to them. If they’re good friends, they’ll understand and not want to say something that hurts you. At least I hope so,” you say, looking out the window again to hide how upset this truly makes you. Sunghoon’s next words come as a surprise to you.

“Thanks, Y/N.” You look back at him with a questioning look, wordlessly asking him to go on, and he sighs. “I’m sort of used to keeping everything for myself. Taking a step back so I don’t take things personally, not complaining and just doing what I’m told even if it’s not what I want to do, stuff like that, I’m used to it. I just- I don’t wanna bother anyone, you know. I think you’re the first person who’s ever told me I’m allowed to voice things out.”

You don’t know what to say for a few seconds, shocked by this revelation. It’s very fitting of him - sacrificing his potential career for his sister, going to vet school to please his parents but taking care of the center whenever he’s on break. You didn’t know this behavior went deeper than that, and it was ingrained in him to just take it all and never put up a fight.

You say, “You’re allowed to put yourself first, you know. Sometimes, you even need to,” and it’s an unfamiliar breath of fresh air that blows away some of the weight on his shoulders, hearing those words. He chuckles a bit, hoping that the tears pooling in his eyes don’t accidentally overflow.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to do that, but it’s nice knowing I have the option. Thank you, Y/N,” he repeats, and you smile at him, relieved when he smiles back.

The rest of the car ride goes by in a flash as you make fun of each other for being so scared of the film and jump from topic to topic like frogs bouncing around lily pads, somehow neither of you ever losing track of the conversation. You tell him someone with such a boring McDonald’s order doesn’t deserve to have opinions and he says that of course you’d think that since you chose potato wedges instead of french fries.

Without noticing it, you soon reach the center, and Sunghoon walks you to your doorstep after parking the car. You stand in front of each other at the door, and you seriously feel like the main lead in a teen rom-com, butterflies in your stomach and all the works as you look up at him, expecting a little something.

“So…” he starts, pressing his lips into a flat line to hide his smile.

“So…” you repeat, nudging your foot with his as you both look down.

“Tonight was nice,” he says sheepishly and you can’t help but laugh, him soon imitating you.

“It was. But we’ve already established that, I think.”

“Right.” His gaze finds yours, and the look in his eyes makes your heart feel like it’s on an acid trip. You stare at each other for a few seconds, unable to look away, and you’re about to run off into the house, the tension too much to handle, when his eyes finally drop to your lips. Knowing him, he probably won’t do much more, so you take a small step towards him and raise your lips towards his, closing the distance between the two of you inch by inch, getting closer, closer, closer, until-

“Sunghoon!” Yeji’s voice rings out in the night, taking you aback as you gasp and stumble a few steps back, not wanting her to see you almost devour her brother’s face. Sunghoon closes his eyes and shakes his head, then lets out an exasperated “what.”

“I can’t believe you went to see that new movie without me. I saw it in Jay's story. I told you I wanted to go see it!”

He sighs and looks at you, mouthing a “sorry” before walking towards her, hooking his arm over her shoulders as he walks her back to their house.

“Sorry, lil sis. We can go watch it together, I don’t mind seeing it again. Also, why do you follow Jay? Unfollow him,” he commands, and after that you can’t hear anything because they’re too far away. You watch them walk with a smile on your face, appreciating their little moment together, and your heart does a little somersault of joy when Sunghoon turns around to wave at you from his door.

After that night, you’re more determined than ever to turn that almost-kiss into a actually-happened-kiss. However, your resolve soon seems to have been for nothing when Sunghoon tells you about how he wishes he didn’t have to leave with his parents, but they won’t let him stay, and you’re reminded of the Parks yearly vacation that starts the next day, exactly three days after the night out.

It’s a late Sunday afternoon and you’ve done everything you needed to for that day, so you and Sunghoon went off on a horse ride as you often do, deciding to take a break when you reach a field in which a bunch of haystacks rest. You only had to exchange a look to understand the other immediately, so you tied your horses to a tree and raced over to the closest stack, helping each other get to the top and laying there.

“I wish you didn’t have to go either,” you say, playing with a loose strand of hay peeking out from the stack in the small space between you and Sunghoon.

“You gonna miss me?” Sunghoon teases, grinning as he lightly nudges your shoulder.

“As surprising as it sounds, I think I might,” you say, and from the corner of your eye you see his grin get wider.

“I think I will too,” he replies, and he giggles when he sees you try and fail to suppress a smile. “Actually, I definitely will,” he adds just to see you smile bigger, and it works.

“When are you leaving again exactly?” you ask to change the subject.

“Early tomorrow morning. I still haven’t packed,” he says and sighs.

“We should head back so you can pack,” you say even though you don’t want to do that at all.

“Yeah, we should, but I don’t want to,” he replies, practically reading your mind. “I wanna stay here for a while.”

A small silence settles between the two of you, but it says more than a thousand words. The tension that has been hanging over your heads for a while now but only thickened after Friday night is almost palpable now. You’re laying so close that your arms are almost touching, occasionally brushing when one of you shifts, and if you turned your head, his face would be right there, which means his lips would be right there. Well, one of you is going to have to do something about this tension, you think, and it’s definitely not going to be him.

“Sunghoon?” you call out, turning your head towards the boy next to you. He does the same and your eyes meet. In this late afternoon hour, the sun is right behind you and he has to squint a little bit and use his hand as a shield to look at you properly. He looks a bit stupid like that, but you think he’s cute.

“Yeah?”

The warm feeling that spreads over your whole body at the sound of his voice is what gives you the confirmation that you want to say what you say next, and the courage to do it.

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyebrows raise slightly but he’s quick to hide his surprise and starts grinning instead, revealing those fangs of his you love so much. You have a feeling they’d leave the cutest marks on your skin. “Sure,” he says, letting his eyes drift down to your lips just like that other night.

So you do.

You lean in close enough to press your lips onto his, letting them touch for a brief second before leaning back again. A small pout forms on his lips at the fleeting contact. “That’s it?”

You could just eat him whole, you think. A kiss will have to do. “What did you want?” you ask, trying and failing to hide a smirk.

“That wasn’t a proper kiss.”

“Yeah? What’s a proper kiss then?”

He looks away with a huff. “I’m sure you know what a proper kiss is. Why would you ask to kiss me if you’re not even gonna do it properly…”

“How about you show me then?”

This makes him look promptly back at you, his eyes a bit wider. When he just gulps without saying anything, you add: “Or should I try again? Properly this time?”

He nods, eyes set on your lips. He’d always found them pretty and inviting, and he’d caught himself daydreaming about this exact moment a few times, but now that it was right in front of him, his brain was short-circuiting. All he could do was close his eyes and wait for you.

You find it cute how he screws his eyes shut before you’re even kissing him, making him look like a k-drama female lead during the first kiss scene. You can’t help but smile a little even as you bring your lips to his once again, this time a bit firmer, a bit deeper. He waits for you to move your lips against his before he does so too, but once he’s started, he’s unstoppable.

In fleeting conversations and off-hand comments, you’d learned that Sunghoon had had a couple girlfriends but that it always ended after a few months. When you’d accused him of “virgin behavior” after he did something embarrassing for an almost twenty-year-old, he’d fervently defended himself of very much not being virgin and very much having had sex before, which you’d said was what a virgin would say, but you knew he was saying the truth because he wasn’t the type to lie, especially about this sort of thing.

What was sure was that he kissed you like he knew what he was doing, and he was doing it well. His shy demeanor from a minute ago is completely gone as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, holding you tight against him. His hands were shy at first, but when yours made their way to his hair so you could gently tug at the strands there, he understood he didn’t need to be so polite. One of his hands found your waist while the other cupped your cheek, his thumb coming under your chin to tilt it up towards him.

Your lips move against the others’ like you’d done this your whole life, and you’re unable to keep it Disney-friendly for long as your feelings and the fact that you were finally touching each other like you’d been wanting to take over any reason you had left. The kiss turns hungrier, needier, hotter, as if catching up on all that time you lost to dilly-dallying around each other. It’s easy to slip your tongue inside his mouth and you swear you hear him moan when your tongues come into contact, the small sound making your brain turn into mush and giving you one goal, and one goal only: hear him again.

You pull away and press a palm to his shoulder, and he lets you push him down on his back as you straddle his lips, positioning your core right over his growing erection and watching with a smirk as he bites his lips and furrows his eyebrows, humming at the feeling of you against him. You press your lips back against his and note with satisfaction that his movements are messier than before, kissing you mouth open and letting you take full control of the kiss, almost unable to focus on kissing you and on feeling you grind very lightly, almost teasingly against him. Slick pools in your underwear at the angelic sounds he’s making, and you’re very happy he doesn’t seem to be shy about being vocal because his moans are the prettiest sound you've ever heard.

You move away from his lips and trail wet kisses on his cheeks and jawline, moving down to his neck and his Adam’s apple, gently biting and sucking the skin at the base of his throat, enough to make him squirm underneath you but not enough to leave a mark, even though you’d love to, the thought of other girls seeing him all marked up because of you filling you with a sense of pride you didn’t know you could have.

You find his sweet spot at the juncture of his neck and his shoulder, so you kiss him more there, tracing the other side of his neck with your fingernails. He’s so sensitive and those actions alone are enough to have him whine a small “fuck, Y/N, that feels so good,” and you think you might actually go insane with lust for him.

You’ve just started kissing him on the lips again, his hands holding your hips so tightly you think they might almost bruise your skin and his kisses desperate and needy, when his phone buzzes. Taken aback, you pull away quickly, and he whines at the loss of contact. He goes in to kiss you again but you tut and tell him to check his phone in case it’s important. You note that he does what you say, and you wonder whether that’ll hold up for other situations. You observe him as he unlocks his phone and reads the text, and you curse yourself for waiting until he leaves to do this. You could’ve had him heaving, cheeks rosy, lips slightly swollen and eyes blown out for some weeks now, but your hesitation prevented you from doing anything, and now you’ll have to wait ten more days to see him like this again - that is, if he wants to do it again.

“It’s my mom,” he says with a sigh, snapping you out of your reverie. “She says I need to come home and pack my bag and have dinner.”

You pout at each other and he sits up, wrapping his arms around your middle and nuzzling his face in your neck. The rather intimate action surprises you a bit, but mostly you find it endearing, and it was pretty obvious Sunghoon would be the clingy type. You’re happy he feels comfortable enough around you to show this side of him - plus, it makes him ten times more adorable than he already was in your eyes.

“I want to go even less now,” he murmurs, voice muffled and you giggle at him as you caress his head.

“Same. But ten days will go by quickly, right? And I’ll be right here when you come back,” you say, leaning back so you can cup his face in your palms and look at him, his cheeks a bit squished. “You’re so cute,” you whisper with a smile, and the compliment makes his cheeks heat up but for once he doesn’t look away and keeps your gaze locked in his.

You peck his lips quickly and get off of his lap. “Right, we should go then,” and when he whines in protest, you add, “your mom will be mad, Hoon,” which is enough to convince him.

You head slowly back to the center and walk the horses to their stalls, talking about this and that as you often do, but you grow silent as you near his house, dreading having to say goodbye. The only difference with Friday night is that you’re standing at his door and not yours; the tension and heart-fluttering awkwardness are the same. Well, maybe not exactly the same, because you had your tongue down his throat just fifteen minutes ago.

“You’ll be alright when I’m gone, right?” he asks, taking your hands in his and letting them hang between you two.

“Yeah, I will. Plus, your parents’ friend is coming to take care of the club, right? I’ll help her, and I’ll hang out with my grandma while you’re on vacation and the ten days will be over before we know it,” you say, more trying to reassure yourself than him.

Sunghoon sighs but nods as if trying to convince himself too. “Right.”

“Right,” you repeat, and look up at him with a smile. The thought that this might look completely dramatic to any outsider crosses your mind, but you ignore it because you’re really not looking forward to spending ten days without Sunghoon here. When he comes back, you’ll only have three weeks left, and that simple fact already makes your heart ache.

He takes you in his arms and holds you close to him for a few moments. “Okay. I’ll see you soon, Y/N,” he whispers in your hair. “Don’t miss me too much. But not too little either. Just the right amount,” he jokes, and usually you’d have punched his chest or something but right now all you can do is chuckle. He pulls away and pecks you on the lips, and when you take a step back, he opens the door and waves at you goodbye, then disappears inside the house.

Not to be dramatic, but those ten days are probably the longest of your life. The Parks’ friend, Madame Rasson, is nice enough, and you enjoy helping her out and having dinner with her and your grandmother every night, but she’s no Park Sunghoon. You don’t really have the urge to gallop away with her and kiss at the top of a haystack as the sun sets behind you, nor do you feel like a small part of your heart stays with her when you’re not together.

Sunghoon calls you every night under the pretext of wanting to know how the horses are doing, but you know Mrs Park and Mme Rasson are keeping in touch and that he just wants to talk to you. You don’t call him out on it though and let him tell you about his day when he’s done pretending he cares about who did what and who went where. After a few days, as you’re nearing the end of a call, he tells you he misses you then hangs up right after as if he hadn’t been basically crying into your shirt about how much he didn’t want to leave and how much he’d miss you just a few days prior, but you just giggle and text him that you miss him too, which he texts a heart back to.

Yunjin also comes around one day, saying she missed horse riding and wanted to hang out again, so you show her around the club and go on a horse ride together, taking her to all the spots Sunghoon took you to, pointing with a giggle to the spot where you made out. She gasps when she hears that and lightly slaps your shoulder. “You two made out?” she says, surprise and excitement all over her face. You only giggle some more and nod, face heating up.

“I mean, it was obvious it would happen at some point. You guys were giving each other major heart eyes the other day.” You roll your eyes and say you weren’t even though you know you very much were. “Plus, the guys send a lot of voice messages on their group chat and I sometimes listen to them with Heeseung. The way Sunghoon talks about you is so cute it makes me want to throw up sometimes.”

The thought of Sunghoon talking about you to his friends makes your heart jump and swell with pride a bit. “Really? What does he say?” you ask, not looking at Yunjin to hide the stupid smile you’re wearing.

“He just talks about your day and what you guys did, but he’ll focus on a random thing like the way you said hi to the horses or how you ate your food and he��ll be like, it was the cutest thing ever. He doesn’t go into too much detail cause he knows the guys will make fun of him but it’s still really sweet. Heeseung told me he’s never talked about any other girl like that, you know,” she says, looking at you pointedly. “And you probably also know Sunghoon isn’t the easiest to get to know. But he’s clearly let you in, and he really wanted you to meet the boys, so I think he really, really likes you.”

You give yourself a few moments to process Yunjin’s words, but all you can say in the end is “Well, I really, really like him too,” and Yunjin laughs at you.

She stays over for dinner, charming your grandmother with her jokes and willingness to help, and spends the night as well. You two stay up until late talking about your families, school, how she met Heeseung and how cute you and Sunghoon are, and the fact that you have to stay quiet so as not to wake your grandma up makes you want to laugh even harder. When she leaves the next morning, she mentions that she saw the sea was really nearby and asked if you’d been.

“I haven’t yet, but Sunghoon did say he knew a spot and would take me sometime… I’ll ask him about it again,” you say, and she nods fervently, saying she hasn’t been to the beach forever. You hug each other goodbye and you wave at her until you can’t see her car anymore, and you get that empty feeling of being alone again, so you go find your grandmother and bother her with tons of questions which she answers patiently. Five days to go until Sunghoon comes back.

And then these five days are over, and Sunghoon finds you in the middle of the afternoon, taking a nap in your grandmother’s backyard and oblivious to the fact that the boy you like the most is back. He wakes you up by taking your sunglasses delicately off of your eyes and pressing his lips to the top of your head. You frown and open your eyes bit by bit until you recognise the boy hunching over you and then open your eyes all at once, sitting up in your lounge chair and wrapping your arms around Sunghoon’s neck, pulling him down towards you.

“Hi,” he giggles, chin hooked over your shoulder.

“You’re back!”

“I am.” He pulls away to peck your lips, and it’s like he hasn’t even left a day. “I’ll go get changed and check on Nellie and then we can go for a horse ride, if you want?”

You nod excitedly. “Sure. I’ll go get the horses ready.” You both rush to your respective destinations and meet again fifteen minutes later in the grooming hall just as you finish buckling Picasso’s saddle. Sunghoon pecks your lips once more just because he can, and then you’re off.

Sunghoon’s prepared a blanket so you could lie in the grass in the clearing. On your way there, you ask him about his vacation and he admits it was actually really fun. They drove down to Spain, spending a couple days in Barcelona and then a week in a smaller seaside town. In terms of weather and landscape, it wasn’t very different from their hometown, but the food was amazing and the people very welcoming, and Sunghoon and Yeji could finally put their years of learning Spanish in school to the test.

“I took a lot of pictures because there were so many things that reminded me of you or that I thought you’d like,” he admits bashfully, taking out his phone from his bag once you’re settled on the blanket. You rest your head on his chest and rest your hand on the side of his stomach, feeling the vibrations of his laughter against your ear and commenting on the pictures he shows you, giggling when he starts rapidly scrolling through fifteen consecutive selfies.

You try to keep up a conversation but it’s a bit hard to do when his neck is right there, close enough for you to press kisses on or to nuzzle your face in if you just lifted your head a bit, and his skin is soft and warm and you want to feel all of it under your palms. Even Sunghoon, who usually never shuts up when he’s with someone he’s comfortable around, is quiet. His sigh when you trail your hand up from his waist to his shoulder tells you he’s probably thinking the same as you, and as soon as you graze your fingers through his hair, he’s rolled you onto your back and his lips are on yours, kissing you with all the need that’s built up over the past ten days. You have a feeling just kissing won’t be enough to satisfy either of you today.

There’s a sense of urgency to all of your movements, the way all four hands are restless and travel each other’s body tirelessly, pulling on the other’s hair, kneading the skin here, caressing it here. Sunghoon bites down on your lower lip and the action makes you moan, so he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your kisses are open-mouthed and wet and messy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way because they translate all the desire you have for him and you want him to know exactly just how he’s making you feel.

You remember how much Sunghoon likes it when you compliment him, or tease him using your words, so you decide to do just that. When he starts trailing kisses your jaw, then sucking and biting at your neck, leaving tiny marks there, you whisper his name, making him hum.

“Hoon. I want you so fucking bad.”

You feel him trembling at your words and he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, whining as he continues pressing wet kisses there. He ruts his hips into yours, seemingly more by reaction than deliberately. “Want you too,” he murmurs, and slips his hands underneath your t-shirt, the flesh on your stomach burning everywhere his hands touch it. You lift your arms so he can take the piece of fabric off, and he’s quick to find the back of your bra as well, unclasping it and revealing your breasts to him.

In no time he’s already delving into your body, pretty pink lips circling and sucking on one of your nipples and deft fingers playing with the other, warmth spreading all over you at the intense pleasure he’s finally giving you, wetness already starting to make your underwear stick to your core.

Your fingers find purchase in his hair, pulling whenever it feels particularly good, and he seems to like the pain that comes with it because it’s enough to have him moaning around your nipple. “Fuck, Hoon, that feels so good,” you breathe out. Despite your praise and to your confusion, he pulls away, trailing kisses down your stomach until he reaches your shorts and looks up at you when his fingers are around the button, asking for confirmation to go further. He whispers “thank God” when you nod your head yes.

“Wanna make you feel good,” he says as he drags your shorts and underwear down at the same time, eyes fixated on your glistening folds.

You hold yourself up on your elbows, admiring him and his blown-out pupils and disheveled hair - he’s never looked hotter. “You already were, baby.”

“Wanna make you feel even better,” he says before diving right into your pussy, giving you no time to get used to the feeling as his tongue licks up a long stripe up your folds before finding your clit, alternating between giving it kitty-licks and sucking it. You’re a moaning mess in an instant, pulling even harder at his hair and sometimes holding onto his shoulders as if your body might start levitating at any moment. As if that didn’t already feel good enough, he then adds a finger, and quickly a second one into your hole, his thin and long digits feeling better than yours ever have. He must be some kind of fingering expert because he finds your g-spot in thirty seconds, pressing the sensitive spot again and again until you come apart for him in an embarrassingly quick orgasm, moaning his name and how good it feels like a broken record.

That doesn’t seem to be enough for Sunghoon, however, who doesn’t relent and sends your body into overstimulation until you find the energy to tell him to stop. “Was that good?” he asks innocently when his lips find yours again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Was it good?” you repeat, almost scoffing. “Baby, it was amazing.”

“Really?” he asks, a childlike grin on his face that is worlds away from the things he just did to your body.

“Really. Let me show you how good it felt,” you say with a mischievous smile, pushing his shoulder down so you switch positions and he’s the one laying, back against the blanket. “Let’s get this all off, yeah?” you say, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt, and when that’s gone, with the band of his sweatpants and underwear. He gulps when he’s fully naked under your curious gaze, but he’s brave and his eyes don't leave your face, patiently waiting for what you’ll say or do next.

“So pretty, Hoon,” you purr as your hands trail from his thighs up to his neck, applying some pressure there, not enough to cut off any oxygen but enough for him to feel it. “And all for me,” you add as you mark his neck just like he did yours, before pushing yourself down his body until your face is level with his now fully hard cock. You press wet kisses to his thighs and hear his breaths get shakier when your kisses get dangerously close to his crotch. “Haven’t even touched you, and you’re already this hard, baby?” you tease, and chuckle when his cock twitches at your words.

“Please,” he implores, voice small.

“Just a second, baby. Be good for me, yeah?” you ask and he nods, eyes screwed shut as if in pain. You had a feeling that Sunghoon might like to give control rather than have it, but you hadn’t thought he’d let you have full power over him like that. You can’t say you dislike it, though.

You don’t want to make him wait for too long, and the sigh of relief he lets out when you finally place your tongue on the base of his shaft and lick a stripe up is worth it. Your baby is loud and lets you know exactly what he likes, and what he likes is when you pay attention to his tip and his sensitive balls at the same time. You alternate between having your lips around his tip, hands massaging him, and your palm circling his tip, taking his balls in your mouth and letting them out with a pop. In just a few minutes, his whole body is shaking under your touch and his moans are getting louder and louder, almost shout-like. He calls out your name and pleads with you to stop, and you look up at him with a worried expression. Before you can ask if he’s okay, he says, “Wanna cum inside you,” and how can you refuse him when his blush has spread to his whole face and his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and pleasure, trying his best not to cum?

“Of course, baby.”

He sits up and you straddle his lap, telling him you’re on the pill when he’s about to pull out a condom he’d sneakily brought from his bag. “Fuck, okay,” he says, voice shaky at the idea of feeling your bare walls around him.

You raise yourself over him, your arms wrapping themselves around his neck and his around your waist, you line your entrance up with his dick and then sit back down onto his lap, his cock stretching you out in the best way possible as it slips right in, your wetness serving as natural lube. You waste no time before moving your hips against his, first rocking them back and forth and then raising them up and down, the both of you letting out loud moans and breaths at the pleasure taking over your bodies.

“Y/N, feels so good, gonna cum quick,” he breathes out into the crook of your neck, biting the flesh there which feels surprisingly good.

“That’s okay baby, you’ve done so well, cum whenever you want.”

“Want you to cum too, though,” he whines, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“You already made me- fuck!” you scream out of surprise when Sunghoon’s hands suddenly grip your thighs tightly and he holds you steady like this as he ruts his hips up into yours, the angle hitting right where it needs to. Your brain can’t form sentences that make any sort of sense so you’re left blabbering praises and curses at the same time, feeling your second orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Fuck, baby, just like that, fuck- so close, Hoon…”

The feeling of your walls clenching as your high washes over you is enough for Sunghoon to tip over the edge as well, your releases mixing together in a loud and sticky mess. You’ve never felt closer to heaven as you do now.

The seriousness of it all soon starts to fade as you and Sunghoon lock eyes and burst into giggles, breathing still heavy and irregular. You help clean each other up and put your clothes back on, but you don’t head home until the sun has long set, feasting on the snacks and water he’d brought along.

You check the time before you go to bed that night. 00:57, Thursday 11th August 2022. Twenty days left with Sunghoon.

Eighteen days left with Sunghoon. Your last days together feel like a montage, like you’re watching a movie in which you play the lead role and you know the ending credits will have to start rolling at some point. You hate to be thinking that way, but the first thing you do when you wake up every morning is check the date and tell yourself how many days you’ve got left with your summer love. 19 days, 18 days. If Sunghoon feels a change in your attitude, how your gaze lingers more, how your touch softens, he doesn’t say anything.

You mentioned how you and Yunjin would like to go to the beach, so he called up his friends and got them to drive all the way over here. He said another time when you told him this is the perfect opportunity to show them his horse riding, and you didn’t push it.

He drives you all to what he calls ‘his’ beach spot, and indeed, it feels like it’s yours and yours only. It’s a bit of a trek getting there, having to walk up a dirt road and climbing some rocks before heading down to a small sandy beach where the sand is so hot it burns and the water only feels refreshing for two minutes, but you love it. He side-eyes Jake and Jay when you take off your dress and reveal your bikini-clad body, and barks at them to stop salivating even though they weren’t looking at you.

Yunjin on Heeseung’s shoulders, Jake on Jay’s and you on Sunghoon’s, the six of you play a tournament of who can make the others fall faster. Your boy has amazing balance, robust legs, a strong core, and decent (surprisingly impressive) arm muscles, so you win, a victory peck turning into a makeout session that everybody groans at, except for Jake who whoops.

You apply sunscreen on each other’s backs and complain that evening when you’ve got weirdly-shaped sunburns anyway, you along the lines of your swimsuit and him on the back of his knees. You eat the watermelon Jay brought and the boys spit black seeds at each other, not daring to do it to you or Yunjin after the stank look you gave them.

When you get home and everyone has driven off, neither of you is quite ready to call it a night yet. Sunghoon eyes the backseat of his car and you understand what he wants immediately. His skin smells like sun, sweat, sunscreen and sea water, and it’s all so him. It smells so good, it’s almost intoxicating, and you think you’ll never be able to get enough of his scent, of him. You won’t be able to look up at the bright star in the day sky or at an orange bottle of sticky sunscreen the same way ever again.

You’ve had many things in your life. You’ve had dolls, and you’ve had books and CDs. You’ve also had and still have friends, sometimes even boyfriends. You’ve had fun, and times that were not as fun. You’ve had sex. But you’ve not had anything like what you have with Sunghoon. He’s the one who gave you the intense feeling of truly loving and being loved, the insatiable craving of wanting more, the overwhelming need to see and talk to and feel and smell.

He’s the one who gave you the best summer of your life, and it’s the best thing you’ve ever had. It overpowers everything you’ve ever had to the point that it feels like it’s the first thing you’ve ever had; it might be the only thing you ever have, because you don’t understand how you could want anything else now that you’ve had him. He’s all you need.

Seventeen days left with Sunghoon. You’re having your joyful weekly dinner with your grandmother and the Parks when you feel something hit your foot gently. You feel it again, and when you look up at the boy sitting right across the table from you he’s trying to hide a small smile, but you know him too well to miss it. His clothed foot caresses the ridge of your own and you suppress a giggle at the ticklish feelings. You tease him back, and you realize you’re playing footsies at the ripe age of twenty years old, but it doesn’t bother you. You both end up failing at not laughing and when innocently, his mother asks, “what are you two laughing at?”, he coughs and says it’s an inside joke.

Fourteen days left with Sunghoon. The last two weeks of summer lessons have started again and Sunghoon and you can’t run around and lay in random fields at any time of the day anymore, but you still try your best to spend every waking second of the day together, to the despair of his fangirls. However, you still find moments where it’s the two of you in an empty stall and one exchanged look is enough for you to push him against the walls, your lips finding his in the fraction of a second. Sadly, before it can get too heated, a nearby horse always neighs or huffs as if telling you to get a room.

Twelve days left with Sunghoon. Conveniently, Sunghoon’s sister and their parents are out for the night at a party in celebration of the competition season that’s about to end, so you finally get to spend the night in his room. You technically could’ve done it before, but the house is old and the walls are thin, and you didn’t need that kind of humiliation.

Maybe Sunghoon feels that your time is slowly running to its end too, because as the days pass, he melts under your touch like a candle to a flame even more than before, he kisses your lips with more desperation and he holds your hips tighter as if you were going to disappear from between his hands at any moment. He always asks to please, please let’s cum at the same time and please, please say my name and you do it because you’d do anything for him.

You do it three times in a row, both of your bodies weak and sensitive with overstimulation yet unending desire, and you feel tears pouring down your cheeks as your third orgasm of the night hits you. There’s no way anything will ever feel as good as this. You tell him this, and he says, “I know.”

Seven days left with Sunghoon. He asks you what you’ll do when you go home, and you reply that you don’t know, because even though you’ve been thinking about what little time you have left together, you haven’t been thinking about the time after that, simply because it puts a bland feeling in your mouth whenever it crosses your mind. “I’ll start studying again and I’ll start my internship. I’ll get black out drunk at least once a month to forget all the stress and pressure of being a med student. I’ll think about you. That’s probably about it. What about you?”

“I’ll study too and I’ll have an assistantship at some point too. I’ll get drunk on Thursday nights and take care of the club during the weekends. I’ll think about you, too. More than you, I’m sure.”

“That’s not possible. You won’t ever leave my mind.”

“You won’t either,” he whispers.

Two days left with Sunghoon. He tells you you’re going camping for your last night together, not wanting to leave your side for even a second. “We’ve only got so much time left, we need to make the most of it,” he says, and you wished he knew that that had been your exact thought for the past twenty days.

That night, everything goes much slower than it usually does. You take your sweet time taking the clothes off of each other, reveling in discovering the smooth skin underneath the fabric as if you hadn’t seen it dozens of times by now. You find all of his moles and kiss them one by one, and he takes a full minute kissing down from your lips to your core. His thrusts are slow but deep, and your lips don’t leave the other’s the whole time.

Ten hours left with Sunghoon. You wake up the next morning when the sunlight the thin walls of the tent are unable to keep away gets too bright for your eyes’ liking. The warmth of this late August night has made you two drift apart while you slept, but you quickly find his body again and you wrap your arms around him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. He smells like sleep and like himself, which is comforting.

He calls out your name and you lift your head to look at him. When he doesn’t turn his head as well and only gives you his chin and jawline to look at, you know he’s about to say something important. Something he doesn’t dare to say while looking in your eyes.

Your mind goes back to all the times you’ve laid down next to each other and you hope that those will be what you see whenever you think of Sunghoon in the future. The sun not quite ready to call it a day, a slight breeze picking up, the hay a semi-comfortable mattress that sometimes poked you at the back of your neck and arms. Sunghoon right next to you. You were always happy then, hoping you wouldn’t regret anything later. You wouldn’t have known what to do to prevent that anyway.

All you know is you don't want your memory of Sunghoon to be tainted by this moment right now, this moment in which he avoids your gaze and your heart feels heavy because you’re leaving soon and you won’t get to have him in your embrace like this. You want to be happy when you think of him; you don’t want to feel his absence.

“Yeah?” you answer. He still doesn’t look at you, and you get a bit nervous.

He sighs a deep breath like you’ve never seen him do before. “Is it okay if I say something a bit selfish?”

You love him so much. You realize that maybe that’s what you’ll end up regretting. “Go ahead.”

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” he says, and you almost laugh out of relief.

“That’s not selfish, Hoon. I don’t want to leave, either.” You reach for his hand and he lets you take it, your fingers intertwining immediately as if made to hold each other. To hold onto each other. He still doesn’t look at you, and you know there’s something more there.

“It’s selfish because I’m scared I’ll resent you for leaving,” he says, voice a whisper.

Ah. There it is.

You squeeze his hand, wordlessly asking him to go on. He takes another breath, a shakier one this time, and he chuckles at the tears he feels pooling in his eyes. “You showed up here out of nowhere and you made me so, so happy. You listened to me and got me to open up, which I usually hate doing. You told me that I was good, that you were proud of me. And now you’re leaving and no one will tell me those things anymore.” The first crack in your heart happens when you hear his voice quiver at the end of his sentence.

“You don’t need me to tell you those things. You know them now, and you have yourself,” you try to reassure him.

The second crack happens when he finally turns to look at you, lips trembling and eyes full of tears. “But I want you to tell me those things.” It takes everything in you to not burst into tears, but you want to be strong for him. For the both of you.

“I can still tell you those things. Phones exist, you know.” A small smile appears on your lips as you try to alleviate the tension. Sunghoon’s eyebrows crease and he pouts his lips; you can tell he doesn’t want to laugh in this moment, but the nudge you give him and your smile make his facade break.

You laugh as he whines, telling you this is a serious moment and to not make him laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say between chuckles and you wrap your arms around him, bringing him to lay his head on your chest. You kiss the top of his head and graze your fingers through his hair. “Laughing is all I can do to stop myself from crying, baby,” you whisper. When you feel a tear roll down your cheek, you add, “And it’s not even working that well.”

Sunghoon buries his face deeper between your breasts and sobs. No more, no less, he sobs, loud, choked sobs that make his whole body shake against yours, and you hold him as tight as you can so that they don’t break him in two. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” he manages to say, and that’s when the third and final crack happens and your heart shatters. It breaks into a million tiny pieces that fall all over your body; some of them make their way to your throat while others travel to the tips of your fingers and others lodge themselves behind your knees or in the pits of your stomach. Your heart breaks into sharp pieces and you feel them piercing under your skin everywhere. You feel like you’re gonna throw up.

You and Sunghoon aren’t even technically dating. You’ve known each for two months. You live far, but not halfway across the world; you can see each other again. You will see each other again. It’s not supposed to hurt that much, yet it hurts even more than that.

“I know, baby, I know,” you whisper into his hair. “I’ll miss you so much too. But we’ll see each other again, right? Paris isn’t that far away.”

His sobs calm down and you hear him sniffle as he catches his breath. “Paris isn’t far away, but we’ll be worlds apart. You’re going to study and become a doctor, and I’ll stay here. You know what medical school is like, you’re going to be flooded with work for at least four more years. I can’t expect you to stay in touch all the time.”

“Well, it doesn’t need to be all the time, does it? I’d annoy you if it was.”

“You could never annoy me,” he says, and it makes you laugh. He’d never have said this two months ago.

“Plus, I’ll still get time off. I can come back next summer.”

He raises his head to look at you and you can see all the hope and sadness in his puffy eyes. You want to kiss away the tear stains on his cheeks. You want to right everything wrong just to see him smile again. “Next summer?” he echoes in a small voice.

“Next summer,” you promise, a smile you hope is comforting on your lips.

Next summer doesn’t work out. The one after that either. Your internship is going swimmingly, and so is his assistantship, and you simply don’t have the time to make a trip all the way down there. A part of you is also worried that if you see him again, you won’t have the force to leave.

Those years you don’t see him, you’re reminded of the ten days you were apart during that summer, and how you’d felt like he’d kept a small piece of your heart with him, because it still feels that way. There’s something that’s keeping you tethered to that summer, something that the strongest scissors or the sharpest knife in the world couldn’t break.

For a short period of time, he was all you needed. But reality quickly seeped back in, and now you needed good grades and then a good job, a decent flat, a decent income. You didn’t need anyone like you needed him, but you still wanted them because even if they weren’t as pretty, or as patient, or as kind as your Sunghoon, they were still good, and sometimes that was all you could ask for. You were always sorry that you couldn’t give them your whole heart, because a piece of it had stayed in the south of France and you didn’t have the courage to march down there and demand it back. Selfishly, you hoped you also kept a piece of Sunghoon’s heart in yours.

You did call once in a while, but those calls made both of you more sad than happy, and after a couple years the calls were so spaced out that they only happened on birthdays and special events. The next time you see him, it’s five years later, at your grandmother’s funeral. You can only stay for three nights and you spend most of your time there with relatives, celebrating your grandmother’s life, so you don’t see him much. When you do, you get to catch up for a few hours. He’s almost done with vet school and he’s specialized in equine studies. He’s an intern at the horse vet in Laroque which means he gets to stay in the center and help his parents out. Yeji is on her way to becoming one of the best in the country, he adds with a proud smile. You’re finishing up your last years as an intern in a Paris hospital, but you haven’t changed your mind about becoming a general practitioner, which you need just a few more years of experience for. You don’t miss how his face falls slightly when you tell him you have a boyfriend and that you’re thinking of getting engaged to him. He tells you he’s happy for you with the saddest eyes. The hug he gives you when you have to leave brings back so many feelings and memories, and even after all these years there’s nothing more that you want to do than stay in his arms and never move again.

You break up with your boyfriend as soon as you get home.

On a random Thursday, you’re done with your decade-long studies, and you’re free to go out into the world, a medical diploma in hand. You get a job in a cabinet owned by a friend of your parents, and you like the job, but you know you’re just passing the time until the opportunity you’ve been waiting for comes around.

Every week, you check whether a spot opens up for a general practitioner in the small town of Laroque-des-Albères. It doesn’t for about eighteen months, until suddenly it does, and in a week you’re packing your bags and taking that trip you took twelve years ago.

Sunghoon doesn’t even know. He could be married with a wife and three kids, for all you know, and it’s foolish but you hope he’s been waiting for you. He’s just finishing up a health check on some of the older horses when you get out of your car, eyes finding him immediately. From the other side of the courtyard, he smiles at you, and it’s like the summer you first fell in love all over again.

permanent taglist: @ozymandia-s @bbujiikseu @sd211 @lalalalawon @sunghoonmybeloved @w3bqrl

#sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #sunghoon angst #enhypen angst #sunghoon au #enhypen au #sunghoon fanfiction #enhypen fanfiction

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k-hotchoisan · 3 months

Note

(Updated version because I forgot to add one more detail!) Hello! Can I request an ATEEZ smut based on the song I Want You by SB19? Any member will do please?

Here's the Music Video: https://youtu.be/s25Yi6pZnMs?si= ZpzmmV6Yvy1Wa4bZ

And the sound Audio:

https://open.spotify.com/track /16GGH8OF6LISUTTbm8421f?si= 2zklm5olQIKxp2yodrwv1Q

Note: SB19 is a boy group from the Philippines (Which is my country (I'm born from the Philippines by the way haha))), which they became super popular because of the song "GENTO" (Which the song became super popular they did the dance challenge.) (San did that dance challenge! (https://youtu.be/zn8GzEhPqkl?si= qrHRBKWcasrAW2HC))

Thabk you and have a great time. 🌹

~Queennie

Hey Queennie (and also to my fellow readers) Thank you for waiting for this. I was in a rut and not mentally doing well. I hope you haven’t forgotten about me 😭🩷

Also note: YES IVE HEARD ABOUT SB19!! The song got me side eyeing in the best ways possible HAHAHA

The girl in front of him is stunning, but even when he’s all over her, he can’t seem to get you out of his head. So when his phone buzzes and it’s you, he finds himself standing before you with another chance he’s willing to gamble.

Genres/warnings: smut, angst(?) cream pies, orgasms, unprotected sex, fwb to exes to lovers?, Mingi is actually so hung up on you, reconciliation

🩷 Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs

10 months.

10 months since you both stopped talking.

Mingi thought he’d move on by then. The girl in front of him was absolutely stunning, her hands hanging loosely around his neck. She smells like vanilla, but he feels that it’s overpowering. He can’t really see her under the dim flashing lights of the club, but he doesn’t pull away when her hands pull his neck closer to kiss her.

He tastes the fruity cocktail in between her lips, and he can think about is the taste of yours, the feeling of your lips pressed against his. The mere thought of it quickly turns into something he craves. Something he was deprived of for 10 months. Mingi’s hands that were on her waist shift lower down her sides, while she pulls him closer and deeper into the kiss. She thinks they’re getting lost in it. Mingi is definitely lost, though, not in the kiss.

All he thinks about is how your waist feels when he slowly touches her up, and his cock strains against his jeans when he thinks of the way you would moan in his mouth, while your hands run all over him, and how you’d edge him slowly with your hands around his cock while you make him melt against your lips. He’d always pull back breathless and desperate. Always.

His eyes slowly open when she pulls back.

Fuck.

Mingi feels guilty. It’s as if he’s doing something wrong to you. It’s driving him fucking nuts that he can’t see you, and the worst part of it all is that it was his fault. So damn fucked up that he was the one who initiated to stop whatever the two of you had.

“Mingi”, she calls out and his attention snaps back to her. This is his third date with this chick he met online, but for some reason, she simply looks like a stranger. Her fingers tap along his jaw.

“Should we go your place or mine?” She asks as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

Mingi doesn’t even realise he’s half hard. But she probably did. He weighs his decisions. And then he realises he really wants to fuck.

But fuck her? He’s hesitant. He obviously has someone else in mind.

“Not today. I have plans early tomorrow”, he lies. She’s about to pout and try to convince him, until she’s interrupted by Mingi’s phone buzzing in his pants.

“Sorry, give me a moment”, he pauses to take the call. He puts his cell to his ear and his breath is stuck in his throat when he hears who’s at the other end of the line.

“Yunho…? Could you pick me up?”

Mingi blinks. The fact that you broke the no contact meant that you never blocked him even though you said you would. His heart is racing in his ears.

“Hello? Yunho? Are you there?”

It makes him snap out his trance a little.

“Yeah. Where are you at?”

“Uhh, the family mart near xxx club. I’m tryna sober up.”

You’re near. It’s not too far away.

“Okay. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thanks. Oh, and don’t tell Mingi.”

That’s all you say before you hang up on him. He’s still in disbelief. No, wait, maybe it’s a chance. He glances down at the girl, who’s starting to look impatient.

“Uh. Something just came up. I’m sorry we had to cut this short but it’s kind of an emergency.”

That’s when Mingi realises he’s a fucking terrible liar.

She rolls her eyes, evidently annoyed at the interference. Mingi doesn’t even let her respond before he nods quickly and disappears into the crowd and out of the club. He knows that this will have repercussions, but it’s one he’s willing to risk.

There you are. Still looking absolutely breathtaking even when you’re trying to keep yourself together despite the alcohol. It was as if the 10 months never happened. He’s breathless from almost sprinting to where you were at.

He stands before you, watching the way you’re scrolling through your phone mindlessly, the light from the screen illuminating the tear stains on your cheeks. Were you crying? He takes a breath, wondering how you’d react to seeing him after 10, long, agonising months.

“Y/n.”

Your eyebrows scrunch for a second at the familiar husky voice. You look up, and your mind blanks out when you see Mingi standing right before you.

“Mingi? What the fuck are you doing here? Did Yuyu send you here? Fucking son of a-“

“It wasn’t Yunho,” Mingi cuts you off. “It was me who you called.”

You blink slowly at him, processing what he just said before narrowing your eyes at him.

“There’s no fucking way. I’m pretty sure I blocked you”, you reply with a frown, before opening your call logs, scrolling through and your frown is replaced quickly with wide eyes and disbelief.

Goddamn, did you sober up quick after that. You glance back at Mingi, who has an unreadable expression on his face. You cover your face with your hands, feeling your face flush, but definitely not from the alcohol this time.

Mingi takes a seat beside you, leaning forward towards you. His heart is racing as fast as a race car right now. It’s been forever since he’s this close to you.

“Ugh. This is so embarrassing”, you mutter in your hands before you drop them to your lap.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about”, he assures, which only makes you more flustered and borderline irritated.

“You could have called Yunho. You didn’t have to come”, you jab, not wanting to look at him, because he’s staring at you so intently. To Mingi, at least, you’re like home. The relationship you both had no label, all because he was so fucking foolish for thinking it would never be more than what it was.

He was wrong, clearly, because now he’s here beside you, and he wouldn’t ask for anything else.

He’s determined.

Determined to make things right, at least.

“I was the one who you called, not Yunho,” Mingi replies, unwavering.

“It was a mistake”, you sigh, feeling the tears pool around your eyes. Even though Mingi is the last person on earth you wanted to see now, you can’t help but crave for him.

“No it wasn’t. Do you know what’s an actual mistake?” Mingi retorts back. His back is straightened, and he wears a frown.

Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears. Probably coming over? Probably seeing you again? Probably you? You remember how it started like it was fresh from yesterday—it started when he had trapped you on the couch, his tall frame looming over yours when he was trying to get back at you for teasing him.

Like a spark, it ignited bright and burned like a forest fire. So intense that you couldn’t get him out of your system. You pretended you were okay with the arrangement even though the flames were burning through your feelings too. Everything about it was so addicting. If this was forest fire, you were the moth. Until three months later, he suddenly called it off.

“We should stop. I’m not sure what I want right now.”

You shut your eyes and your head spins. “What?”

Mingi swallows hard before his words leave his mouth, “whatever I said 10 months ago. That was a mistake.”

You scrunch your eyebrows, staring at Mingi. And it was a fucking mistake. He’s looking at you with those fucking puppy eyes he knows you’re weak for. Well, now you’re completely sober. But you don’t follow. Why the fuck is he telling you all of this now?

“Elaborate”, you challenge, facing the male.

Mingi covers it up very well but you can tell that he’s getting nervous and flustered.

“Calling it off. It was a mistake,” he answers, his fists balling.

You scoff, even though your heart is bursting. No, you’re not surrendering to him. Not yet. “You’re telling me this now? Weren’t you seeing someone?”

“Was”, he replies a little too quickly, a little too enthusiastically. “Then you called.”

There is a drawn out silence between the both of you momentarily.

“Let’s go. I’ll bring you home, y/n.”

You stare at him for a moment as another load of silence follows. You know it’s a bad idea. You know you shouldn’t let him in again.

Mingi seems to pick up on your concern and distance, and especially your coldness. “I won’t do anything to you. I promise. I’ll leave if you want me to. But it’s not safe for you to just be alone here.”

You know he’s right. He may be an asshole for doing what he did but at least you know Mingi is a man of his word.

His hand is outstretched towards you, and you hesitantly let your fingers graze against his palm. Mingi swears he feels electricity shoot down his spine just from your touch, and a simple one—just a soft brush of your fingers has him ready to be on his knees for you.

You let go quickly when you regain composure and follow Mingi to his car.

The ride back is quiet, much to your relief, letting you sober up as you let the cold night wind brush along your cheeks. What you don’t realise is the amount of glances Mingi casts you when he stops at the red light, and he sees the soft glow of your tear stains.

Mingi pulls over, and as before you could unbuckle the seatbelt with your own two hands, Mingi’s big frame looks over you, his face inches away from you. His gaze catches yours and you hold a breath, expecting him to do something.

Which he does—unbuckle your seat.

In truth, Mingi really wants to kiss you. So bad. To feel you up. He’s so starved it’s insane how he survived ten whole months after foolishly breaking off something that shouldn’t even mean anything. Something that was just simply casual.

“I won’t lay a finger on you if you don’t want me to”, Mingi reminds you as he pulls the car door open for you to leave.

At your doorstep, he doesn’t leave just yet though. He haphazardly dumps his keys onto the little tray you have to hold yours. You don’t say anything. After all, this place was once where he resided with you. He knew it like the back of his hand.

Just like you.

It’s a hard feeling to shake, you think. The familiarity rushes back to you, as if the 10 months never happened. You wish it didn’t.

You push past him and he watches you (thankfully) walk a straight line towards your bathroom. He lets you freshen up, and tells himself he won’t stay for too long—just long enough to make sure you’re alright and going to sleep in peace. He shuts his eyes for a while, letting the soft, cold blows of the air conditioner prick his cheeks.

You step out of the shower, and you see him sprawled on the couch, his slow breaths heavy and steady. Despite every bone in your body telling you not to, you take a seat beside him. He stirs slightly before his sleepy eyes meet yours, barely open before he turns away, combing back his hair.

“You shouldn’t drive if you’re tired, Mingi”, you say. “Go take a shower. I’ll pass you your clothes.”

A prick blooms at the corner of your heart when you say that. You never had the courage to contact Mingi to return his clothes when he was staying over. You were sure you had your clothes kept at his place too. Mingi nods as he leaves for the bathroom, leaving you with your web of thoughts. The resentment was boiling whenever you thought about it, and especially when you are in your room, pulling out the lowest drawer and reluctantly reaching out to feel the fabric that Song Mingi wore, some you wore too and you knew he loved it when you did that.

How did you let him lure you into a situation ship like this?

You dump his clothes onto the counter and climb onto your bed. There was no awkwardness, just tension, and a lot of unspoken words. Words that you were determined to pull out of him so you could finally move on in peace.

There he was, leaving the shower looking like a whole new person. His eyes look a lot softer now, accompanying his damp hair when he has his make up removed. He doesn’t get on the bed.

“What are you trying to get at, Song Mingi?” You question, your eyes darting to him, your fingers tugging each other in anxiety. “We weren’t anything to begin with.”

Mingi presses his lips before he speaks, making sure he doesn’t say it wrongly. “I’m not over you.”

He says it with such distinction that you’re almost taken aback. He catches your confused gaze. But he continues.

“I can’t move on.”

You only scoff. “And that’s my problem, because?”

It’s only then he slowly inches towards you, and you’ve never seen it before in his eyes—desperation?

But you hate that you’re feeling the exact same way. Deep inside you wonder if things could go back to the way they were.

“No. That’s my problem, y/n.” Mingi responds, his finger nervously pinching against the bedsheets. “I’m still hung up over you even after all of this.”

It’s a trap. A trap so big and obvious that a bear could fucking see it from a mile away.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said. I was immature and confused about where that would have gone”, he sighs. “Especially during all the days you’d spend with me. And before I realised what I had done, I had already fallen for you, so hard.”

Your eyes narrow.

“Coward”, you spit, knowing you were in the exact predicament, for a spilt second, on the end of being foolish—thinking that it had meant something to him.

His fingers brushed against yours, his eyes wandering to your figure as more tears stream down your face. Why were you even crying again? He’s obviously playing around with you.

Mingi is on the bed now, inches away from you, his hands gently lifting your face, his thumbs brushing away the burning tears.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you. Out of every mistake I’ve made with you, this was the worst.”

You’re lured into his pretty eyes again, like a puppy begging for forgiveness. You grow so weak every time. You press the side of your cheek onto Mingi’s large and warm hands, the comfort of it never once foreign to you. He brushes his thumb against your cheek.

And Mingi then decides to just throw all of his cards in, his heart like sledgehammer as he lets those words slip from his lips.

“Tell me you want me”, Mingi whispers, his fingertips brushing against your neck to hold your gaze with his—so intense, so overwhelming. “And I’ll be yours.”

Such an obvious trap.

“I want you”, you whisper back, looking at him through your wet lashes.

Mingi feels his heart pounding and fireworks explode in his head. He was ready for you to push his hands away, chase him out, tell him you never want to see him again.

Mingi glances down at your lips and then back into your eyes, before you shut yours and let him completely trap you. Rash decision, stupid decision — your mind is screaming at you while you’re tasting the memories Mingi left you in his kiss. His hands slide down your back, letting lie down properly onto the bed. He pauses in to take in the sight of you—so endearing and gentle. He feels that he should be jailed for wanting to ruin it all and keep it for himself. The thought that no other men could have you like this comforts him, for now, at least.

Mingi tugs against your nightwear, lifting it over your head in one swift gesture before he’s back to kissing you with much desperation. There it is. Your taste. The only one that matters for the rest of his life. His cravings will never be satisfied. If it’s you, he wants more, more, more.

He pulls back, watching the way you’re so flushed and gorgeous. He turns you around, letting your shoulder hit his chest and he presses against you, his erection enough to convey how he feels, that’s for sure.

His fingers brush so lightly against your shoulders, the electric running down your back until he reaches your waist.

“I love you. I adore you”, he hums into your ear, melting every and any sense of rationale that remained in you, no answer but soft whimpers escape your lips as he kisses the nape of your neck to your shoulders, his fingers wet with spit, rolling your nipples in between them. Jagged breaths are the only thing that barely keep you intact for now, before your head is on his shoulder, begging for him.

“It’s been awhile. Don’t you think that’ll be a tight fit, baby?” Mingi questions, his boxers now off and his cock pressing hard against your ass.

You squeeze your thighs in response at the thought of his cock just splitting you open like before. It’s so tempting.

You feel something press against your wet folds, and it’s his fingers. Mingi’s free hand coaxes your thighs to open up and relax for him as his fingers slip right into your sopping cunt, and you gasp. Mingi’s arm snakes around your waist, and one of your opened leg is trapped by Mingi—he’s making sure you don’t close, not until he makes you cream and scream everywhere. You palm against his bare erection, pumping him so painfully slow for the sake of listening to his low, breathy groans right in your ear. He never fails to tell you how much he loves it—when you flick your wrist teasingly at make sure he hears the wet squelching sounds. But for now, your concentration is everywhere, especially when Mingi is stuffing you full with two of his fingers, brushing teasingly against the spongy spot he knows that drives you up the wall.

Your eyes flutter open, completely letting go of his cock. “M-Mingi”, you squeal when his fingers not only curl against the spongy area, but also repetitively fucks your pretty hole stupid, cream completely staining his fingers as it only lubes your clit for him to rub his finger on. Your mind is in a haze, only the thought of letting Mingi finger fuck an orgasm out of you prominent.

So good that you try to wipe the drool seeping past your lips. The feeling builds up so quickly, Mingi notices the way you’re clenching around your fingers. The way you’re grabbing onto his arm and pressing your face into his neck, telling him, “cumming. I’m cumming, Mingi. Fuck me”, was enough for him to pull his fingers out, and stuff his cock in—while you were still mid orgasm, clenching and fluttering with his cock in you. Mingi has his eyes rolled back at the sensation of you just clenching around him, giving your clit wet circular movements to send you over the fucking moon. You’re barely down from your high, panting when you realise that Mingi is inching himself inside you.

Your breath is stuck in your throat when his cock is fully in you, all the way to the brim. Mingi sighs in pleasure—this is what he loves. This is the familiarity he could never get tired of—or rather—crave so fucking badly.

Your mind had completely been melted. Sex with Mingi was always so mind blowing. You hate to swear that you would never get enough. His cock is so big and you love how well he fits into you, and his comments of, “fit me so fucking good, baby. I think if I move I’ll just cum”, as he hisses and forces himself to hold back for bursting.

Mingi’s fingers press against your jaw, your attention seeping back to him. He looks at you lovingly before he watches your face contort with pleasure the moment he pulls back, then fucks you with a thrust.

“You don’t know how much I want you”, he whines, even with his cock just pounding into you from below. “I promise I’ll treat you better. Love you better. Fuck you better.”

You’d let Mingi do whatever he wanted with you. That’s the honest fucking truth. You know you were gonna regret this. Everything is screaming at you at one moment and then completely muted when Mingi’s husky voice lulls you over.

“That’s my good girl. Oh god. You’re good at taking my cock.”

Heaven would jealous at how good you’re feeling being fucked by Song Mingi.

You tremble slightly, more tears pooling at the corner of eyes. Not from sadness or melancholy. The only kind that Mingi is able to pull out from you when his cock is deep inside you.

“It’s okay. That’s a good girl. Let it go for me”, he hums into your ear, his arms holding you down despite the fact that your orgasm is hitting you in waves, spots of white bursting into your eyelids as you feel tour cunt convulse against Mingi’s cock, cream just gathering at the base of his dick as he still continues to jut his cock right into you, sending your legs shaking with pleasure. He swears he wants to record your orgasms and seal it somewhere where only he can access it. He could get addicted.

His thrusts turn more desperate. The loud sounds of wet cock fucking a wet pussy echoing around the walls while you’re crying Mingi’s name.

“That’s a good princess”, he assures, rubbing your thighs, even though sticky with fluids before he thrusts himself right into you for the final time, your legs trembling.

“So much. Mingi, that’s so much”, you swallow hard as you feel him pump his cum right into you. Even that feels so fucking heavenly.

“It’s all for you, princess. We can keep going. I’ll always have more for you. So much that it’ll leak out of your pretty hole for days on end”, he utters so softly in your ear. Your eyes are still glazed from the mind-numbing pleasure. The last thing you could remember was a kiss planted on your forehead before a muffled “Goodnight”, before you completely doze off, your worries saved for the next day.

Morning kicks in, and your eyes are barely able to open, the exhaustion weighing on you from the previous night, so does the realisation. Fuck. You rise up, your hand on your forehead. Then you realise another thing—the other half of your bed is empty. You reach out to your phone on the nightstand—no messages either. Frustration builds in your body. But this time, it was your own foolishness to blame you think to yourself, as you slide off the bed, the soreness of your lower body a burning reminder of what transpired the night before. Instead of the bitterness that lingers in your mouth, you wonder if that should have been your closure.

Freshened up, you walk to your kitchen area to grab a meal, and your eyes widen.

Mingi stands there, pulling the plastic cover off. He pauses briefly when his eyes meet yours.

“Hey. Good morning”, Mingi greets, his morning voice dropping an octave lower. He seems completely fine, as long as you aren’t able to hear his heartbeat going at miles per hour. Would you just chase him out? Would you promise to never see him again? His mouth is dry again, even though he’s had a couple of glasses of water thinking about what to say to you.

“I bought takeout. Come and have some”, he gestures. You don’t question it, taking the seat across him. You follow his movements—the way he settles the utensils—handing you yours first, before he pours you a cup of water. Then he sits himself comfortably.

There is another moment of silence before you speak up.

“About last night…”

You see the grip on his chopsticks tighten.

“Wasn’t a mistake either”, he says, his gaze trailing the food before he meets yours.

“Is it?” You reply, shoving a couple of egg rolls into your mouth. You didn’t expect that answer from him.

“I thought I could move on. But no matter how many girls I came across, it was always you. No one felt as right as you did. I was scared before, but I’m not now.”

You can’t meet his eyes. You’re unsure if it’s because of swirl of emotions that have started bubbling, or because you’ve denied it for so long, that it’s beginning to slowly bleed out.

“Let me make it up to you. For the 10 months”, Mingi professes. “If you’ll have me.”

You finally are able to hold his gaze. Your mind is swimming is dopamine, but you’re not about to let him have the satisfaction, just yet. A small smile curls at the corner of your lips.

“Then you better do a good job.”

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #song mingi #mingi x y/n #song mingi smut #ateez mingi #mingi ateez #mingi x reader #mingi smut #mingi

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0cta9on · 2 months

Text

Unlikely Duet - 6

length: +7k words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

(Author's Note: I could've taken another day to edit this, but I wanted to upload it asap so here it is :^) Hopefully my writing isn't too garbage and I hope y'all enjoy <3)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Minji’s POV

I could do nothing but pace around my room, anxiety fueling every step. Danielle was supposed to be here 20 minutes ago to drive us to the fair, but on this particular day of all days, she decides to be late. My vice president, the one who I can lean on when I’m overwhelmed with responsibilities and even more of a stickler for rules and punctuality compared to me, is late.

The brunt of my morning was spent avoiding my parents like the plague, staying cooped up in my room and eating my meals as quickly as possible. To them, it probably seems like I’m giving them the silent treatment for what they said last night (which I’m still upset about), but in reality, I was riddled with anxious thoughts and simply avoided speaking in case I accidentally let it slip that I was planning on lying to them. I’ve done it tons of times before, but every single time is nerve wracking. While I hate that it’s gotten to this point, I owe a lot of my sanity to what I’ve been able to get away with by lying. Besides, it’s probably better this way - my parents still believe that I’m their perfect daughter and I still get to have some semblance of a social life.

Like the sonorous tones of a church bell, a resounding ding emits from my phone. They’re here. With shaky hands, I grab my tote bag from my bed and carefully tiptoe down the stairs. Right as I reach the front door, my father calls out to me from the living room.

“Minji? Where are you going?” He asks, a look of curiosity on his face.

“O-oh, uhh, I guess I forgot to tell you this but I was actually planning on going to the library to study with Danielle today.” I grin at him, trying my best to sound convincing. Our eyes lock as he studies my expression for what feels like an eternity. It might just be my stress causing my eyes to play tricks on me, but there seems to be a hint of sadness in his expression, as if he doesn’t want me to go. I shake it off and refocus on the task at hand.

“Well, I better get going-”

“Wait,” he interrupts before leaving the room for a moment. He comes back with a $20 bill in his hands and offers it to me. “Here.”

Panic began to set in. Did he find out I was actually going to the fair? If he did, why would he be giving me money? Shouldn’t he be angry at me for lying to him?

“Um, what’s this for? We’re just going to the library,” I reiterate in hopes that my initial worries were wrong.

“In case you two get hungry after, you should get some snacks. Food fuels the brain.” The relief I felt after he said those words is better than any award I got in my entire academic career up to this point. Normally it would raise red flags for my father to be doing something uncharacteristic like this, but I didn’t care. I’m just glad to almost be free.

“Thanks,” I say as I take the cash. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Don’t stay out too late. Don’t be messing around while studying. And-”

I shut the door behind me before I could hear the rest of his sentence. It was probably some other generic dad advice, like “Don’t talk to strange boys at night” or something like that. The sight of Danielle’s mom’s car parked on the other side of the street was like seeing a boat heading your direction after being stranded on an island for 15 years. Hanni beckoned me from the passenger’s side window, an excited grin painted on her face.

“Hurry up girl, let’s go!!” She shouted. As I open the door to the backseat, Hyein and Haerin wave back at me.

“Hi Minji!”

“Yo.”

“Hi guys, sorry, my dad wanted to talk to me before I left,” I replied as I got in the car. “Danielle, what took you so long, I was pacing around my room for the past 20 minutes anxious out of my mind!”

“I’m sorry, there was something I had to take care of before I could take my mom’s car,” she apologizes as she tampers with the rearview mirror, clearly annoyed with its inability to swivel properly.

Hanni pops her head from the front seat. “Okay y’all, we just need to take a deep breath and calm down. We’re going to the fair to chill out and have fun, let’s not let petty things like this ruin the day before it’s even started, alright?” Haerin and Hyein nod enthusiastically, peering over at me to gauge my reaction. I close my eyes and take a deep breath in order to allow my mind to forget about the stress from my morning. Today is the day that I get to let loose and forget about all the pressures I face in my regular life. Nothing else matters but having fun. As I open my eyes again, I am welcomed by the smiling faces of my four dearest friends (Danielle was especially happy about finally fixing the rearview mirror). My lips curl into a smile as I look back at them.

“Yeah, you’re right, Hanni,” I admit. “Okay, let’s go!!” We all cheer as Danielle steps on the gas. Hanni turns up the radio, blasting a loud pop song that blares out of the windows as we cruise through the neighborhood.

______________________________________________________________

The lights, the sounds, the smells, everything about the fair was overwhelming in the best way possible. Large groups of friends and families meandered along the concrete pathways, talking and laughing as they try their hand at classic carnival games or satiate their hunger with fried food and extravagant sweets. A giant ferris wheel sat in the background, the sunlight peeking through its rotors. A wave of nostalgia washes over me as I’m reminded of old family memories. Before they pressured me into trying to obtain some kind of impossible perfection, I used to be able to exist simply as their daughter, who they loved and played with like any other child.

“Hey Minji, are you okay?” Hyein asks me. I snap out of my thoughts to find the girls looking back at me with concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just thinking about something,” I reassure them. “What do you guys wanna do first?”

“I don’t know Ms. President, what do you wanna do?” Hanni asks with a wide grin.

“Well, I guess we can-”

I freeze as I see a familiar face in the distance, intermingled with the crowd. Yuno is here. With the convenience store girl.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

“Where the hell did he run off to?” I grumble as I struggle to search for Yujin in the crowd. The fair was more overwhelming than I could’ve imagined - it was difficult navigating through the sea of strangers without accidentally rubbing elbows with them, all while trying to find oxygen through the constant stench of fried foods and sugar wafting through the air. At the very least, the lights were pretty to look at and I would be lying if I said the ferris wheel didn’t pique my interest.

Winter chuckles at my annoyance. “Relax, he’s just getting a corndog. See, he’s on his way over here right now,” she says, gesturing through a gap in the crowd. Lo and behold, Yujin skips towards us with a corndog in hand and a stupid grin on his face.

“Look what I got!” He presents his fried snack to us with the excitement of a child presenting a drawing to their parents. An ungodly amount of ketchup and mustard drips off the corndog, creating a gross glob of orange on the ground.

“Is that healthy?” Winter asks, concern laced in her voice. Her words fall on deaf ears as Yujin chomps off a large piece, covering his mouth in sauce. I chuckle in disbelief, both deeply disturbed and quietly impressed, while Winter hands him a pack of napkins from her purse.

I take the opportunity to look around at my surroundings again. As I gazed out amongst the crowd of smiling faces, I suddenly felt out of place in it all, like I wasn’t allowed to be here. Everything felt so foreign to me, I wasn’t sure if I should feel at ease or on edge. Whether it’s paranoia or just a hunch, I couldn’t get rid of this nagging feeling at the back of my head.

“Hey Yuno?” Winter nudges me.

I turn my attention towards her. “What?”

“Isn’t that the student council president?”

My heart stops for a split second as I look down the other end of her finger. In the heart of the crowd is Minji, huddled around her friends. She’s wearing a simple outfit of a gray collegiate sweater and jeans, yet my eyes were naturally drawn to her like a magnet.

“Y-yeah, that’s her,” I stutter, trying to maintain composure.

“Mm, issa Danielle? Les go shay hi!” Yujin exclaims with a mouth full of food, running toward them before I could stop him.

“God dammit…”

“What’s wrong, do you not wanna say hi?” Winter asks as we follow the trail through the crowd Yujin left behind.

“It’s not that, it’s just… Whatever, let’s just go.” With every step I take, my heart rate begins to accelerate as, once again, fate pulls me towards Minji Kim.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

He’s coming this way!! Why is he coming this way?? Did he see me? Should I run? No, why would I run? Pull it together, Minji!! Maybe if I pretend I didn’t see him, he’ll just walk past me. Why would I do that?? Agh!!

“Ketchup… and mustard,” Haerin blurts out, drawing puzzled glances from the group. Suddenly, a boy wearing a white eyepatch emerges from the crowd, carrying a corndog smeared with red and yellow condiments.

“Danielle!!” He calls out, waving excitedly. “Hi!”

“Yujin? What are you doing here?” Danielle questions, a hint of surprise present in her voice.

“I’m with my friends!” The boy, Yujin, exclaims as Yuno and the convenience store girl appear behind him, drawing an impish grin from Hanni. I couldn’t help but feel underdressed when compared to convenience store girl’s flowery sundress and cardigan. “I didn’t expect to see you here too! This is great!”

“Uh yeah, I guess it is,” Danielle responds awkwardly before turning to us. “Um, this is Yujin, I’ve been helping him and his grandma out recently.”

“We’re friends!” He adds enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I suppose we are.”

I couldn’t help but giggle at Danielle’s uncharacteristic awkwardness. Normally, she’s the serious voice of reason that stays calm under pressure, yet here she was, looking like an embarrassed older sister flustered by the antics of her younger sibling.

“It’s nice to meet you, Yujin,” I greet warmly. “I’m Minji, also a friend of Danielle’s.”

“Oh, you must be the student council president!” He replies eagerly. “These are my friends, Yuno and Winter. Yuno might look a little scary, but don’t worry, he only fights bad guys. He helped me and Winter out before! And Winter is really shy, but she’s really nice once you get to know her!”

“H-hello,” Winter stutters with a polite smile, while Yuno offers a simple nod. A flush of warmth colors my cheeks as our eyes briefly meet before we both quickly avert our gazes. Unfortunately, Hanni notices this and stifles a laugh, making my cheeks grow even warmer with embarrassment.

“Hello, I’m Hyein!” Our youngest chimes in. “This is Haerin, and that over there is Hanni! It’s nice to meet you all!”

As the group falls into casual conversation, I can’t help but peer over at Yujin’s eyepatch and be reminded of my conversation with Yuno last night. Despite his injuries, he’s chock full of energy and vibrancy that contrasts with Yuno’s usual solitary and soft-spoken demeanor. The difference in their personalities is cute in a way. Winter, on the other hand, shares many similarities with Yuno. Like him, she’s very soft-spoken and a little awkward, but has an aura of kindness around her despite that. I imagine the two of them got along well because of this - for some reason, this fact irks me.

“Since we’re all here to let loose at the fair, why don’t you guys join us? The more the merrier I always say, isn’t that right, Minj?” Hanni says, nudging my ribs with her elbow. I didn’t even have to look at her to know what kind of face she’s making.

Coincidentally, my eyes meet Yuno’s once again, and I quickly break away as I think of what to say. I would hate to butt into Yuno’s time with his friends, but a voice in the back of my head was telling me otherwise.

“Yeah, you guys can join us if you want to,” I say as I give into the voices. My lips curl into a smile, but inside, I couldn’t shake the feeling of butterflies in my stomach. Yuno appears taken aback at my answer as a slight pinkish hue grows on his cheeks. The group moves through the crowd looking for what to do first with Yujin leading the way and Yuno trailing close behind. I stay in the back, letting my complicated feelings fester.

“H-hello, Minji.” Winter’s soft voice interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to find her trailing behind the group alongside me. Her simple makeup look is subtle, yet it perfectly accentuated her natural beauty. Pair that with her cute outfit and she could have any guys she wants. A shiver went through my spine at the thought.

“What’s up?” I ask, trying my best to act natural.

“I just wanted to ask if you’re doing okay. I never got the chance to after what happened that night.”

My mind flashes back to when Yuno and Winter had saved me from that drunk man a couple days ago. I was too terrified and too weak to protect myself, yet this timid girl jumped in front of him to protect me. And here I am, feeling all weird because I think she looks prettier than me.

“I’m doing fine now. Thanks again for that, I owe you one,” I express.

She quickly shakes her head at my offer. “Y-you don’t have to do that. If you want, I can give you a can of pepper spray. I have a couple more of them at home.”

A chuckle escapes my lips, and Winter seems to loosen up at this. “I might have to take you up on that offer,” I say, half-jokingly. A wave of shame washes over me as I suddenly felt bad for being jealous of her. Maybe the events of this morning still have their effects on me or maybe I ate something bad earlier, but something feels off with me today and I’m not sure why.

“Guys, look over here!” Yujin shouts excitedly from the front of the group, pointing at a giant Spider-man plush sitting on a prize table for a basketball game. Two basketball hoops stood tall before him, much higher than a regular basketball hoop. “I HAVE to get this for my room!” He quickly pays the game attendant, who places three basketballs on the counter in front of him.

“Alright, the game is simple. All you have to do is make at least one basket and you get a prize,” the worker explains. Yujin takes the first ball and psyches himself up, giving the ball a couple dribbles before throwing it… And completely missing the hoop.

“Aw man,” he groans in disappointment. “Yuno, why don’t you try?”

Yuno accepts the challenge, gripping the second ball with steely determination. I watch with bated breath as the ball leaves his hands. It soars high into the sky… and completely misses the hoop. The ball shoots way over the hoop and ends up knocking a corndog out of someone’s hand. The girls and I struggle to stifle our laughter as Yuno’s cheeks turn a bright red.

“A-ah… Shit…” He curses under his breath. “M-maybe Winter should try…”

Winter steps forward, her hands shaking as she grips the final ball. We all freeze with anticipation as she shoots the ball towards the hoop. Miraculously, it arcs perfectly in the air and lands through the hoop with a satisfying swoosh. A scattered array of claps and cheers erupt from some bystanders that witnessed that moment, but none are as ecstatic as Yujin, who jumps and cheers with the excitement of a kid on his birthday.

“Congratulations, ma’am! Which prize would you like?” The worker asks her.

“T-the Spiderman p-please,” Winter stammers, accepting the toy and handing it to Yujin.

“Ahhh!!! Winter, you’re the best!!!” He screams, drawing a variety of reactions from passersby. Yuno flashes her a quick thumbs up while Hyein, Haerin, and Hanni shower her with compliments, which Winter modestly tries to brush away with a bashful smile. Meanwhile, Danielle is occupied with trying to contain Yujin’s overflowing energy.

“M-my dad really likes basketball, so he made me play w-when I was younger. I-it’s nothing really,” Winter explains. She’s kind, pretty, AND athletic? It’s almost as if God himself created the perfect person and placed them in front of me on a day I decided not to dress up. There’s no wonder I felt jealous of her. But why am I jealous of her?

“Are you okay?” Yuno asks me.

I startle slightly at his sudden appearance. “H-huh? Yeah, why?” I awkwardly chuckle. Yuno’s gentle gaze meets mine with genuine concern, momentarily distracting myself from my swirling thoughts. I found myself wanting to draw closer and get lost in his irises.

What?! Minji, what are you even thinking?! Have you gone insane?!

“You look… upset,” he admits shyly. “I just wanted t-”

Suddenly, a basketball bounces off of the other hoop and hurtles towards Winter. In a flash, Yuno turns and catches the ball right before it hits her in the face, his gentle expression replaced with a stern glare at the person who threw the ball.

“Watch it,” he growls in a calm yet menacing tone as he tosses the ball back. His face immediately softens as he turns back to Winter. “You alright?”

“Y-yeah. Thanks, Yuno,” she answers with an appreciative smile. I felt my heart drop from my chest as I watched their interaction, confusion and envy creating a storm in my mind.

“Sooooooo, you gonna make a move or no?” I jump as Hanni startles me from behind.

“W-what??” I sputter.

“I recognize that face anywhere. You’re jealous~.”

Heat creeps up my face as I struggle to find the words to explain myself. “Wha- I am not jealous!” I seethe, trying to keep my voice down. “I’m just… impressed by his reaction timing.”

“Mhm,” she hums, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I’m impressed by how close they look. Don’t you think they would make a cute couple, Minj?”

Her words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. “Y-yeah, I’m sure they would,” I reply, unconvincingly. “W-whatever, like I said I’m not jealous.”

“Oh sweet, sweet Minji,” Hanni sighs, shaking her head as she pats my shoulder. She follows the rest of the group as they move on, leaving me to watch Yuno and Winter as they walk side by side. No matter how hard I try, I can't rationalize this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I see them together. I need to do something, but I don’t know why.

______________________________________________________________

We spent the next hour walking around, playing all the fair games, and filing our stomachs with an array of different snacks the fair offers. I tried to enjoy myself, but the pit in my stomach continued to grow and grow until it became unbearable. I even started to consider Hanni’s words, but no amount of inner turmoil would make me go that insane.

As the sun dipped low, casting an enchanting orange hue over the fairgrounds, it seemed like the perfect time to watch the sunset from atop the ferris wheel. As excited as I am to be able to watch the sunset, I still couldn’t get rid of this weird feeling as I watched Yuno chat with Winter and Yujin at the front of the group. Hanni seemed to notice this too.

“Girl, you look miserable,” she remarks, resting her chin on my shoulder with a sympathetic pout. “You’re supposed to be having fun.”

“I-I am having fun. This is my ‘having fun’ face.” I flash her a forced grin in a feeble attempt to mask my true feelings. Hanni sighs heavily right as we reach the front of the line.

“Each cabin only fits two people, so you’ll have to split into groups of two,” the ride operator explains. Naturally, Hyein and Haerin pair up together, waving excitedly at us as they eagerly step into the first cabin.

“Yuno, do you wanna ride together?” Yujin asks him. Before he could answer, however, Hanni takes matters into her own hands and pushes Danielle into Yujin.

“Hey Yujin, did you know Danielle is really scared of heights? She needs a big strong man protecting her while she’s up there.” Danielle silently curses at her with her eyes as Hanni pushes the duo into the next cabin. My eyes go wide with panic as I suddenly catch onto her plan.

“Winter, I love your dress! Let’s chat about it on the ferris wheel!” Hanni exclaims as she grabs Winter’s hand, pulling her towards the open doors of the cabin. Right before the doors close behind them, I catch a glimpse of Hanni flashing me a thumbs up. My heart threatened to explode from my chest as I found myself left alone with Yuno.

“S-soooooo… U-um, do you wanna, um, I-I gues-”

“Let’s go,” Yuno utters as walks ahead of me into the cabin. I mentally facepalm, cringing at my sudden inability to formulate a coherent sentence. I step into the cabin and sit across from Yuno. As the doors seal shut, the space suddenly felt a lot smaller and more intimate. I gaze out at the orange glow of the sun to distract myself, both mortified and oddly blissful.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

My heart kept chugging like a speeding steam train, I worried that Minji could hear it echo off the walls of the cabin. Throughout the day, I could feel her gaze lingering on me and I don’t know why. Did she wanna talk about yesterday? Was something on her mind? Was there something in my hair? Did I smell? I would’ve showered before I left the house if I knew I was gonna bump into her.

A strange feeling fills my chest as I observe the way the sunlight reflects off of her skin. The same feeling that had been haunting me for the past couple of days. Minji constantly invades my thoughts, stirring emotions I couldn’t comprehend. Everything about her felt new and strange, but I couldn’t deny that being around her made me feel happy. I drop my gaze to the floor as she turns to me, hoping she didn’t catch me staring.

“Sooo…” She began, filling the silence. “Winter seems nice.”

I tilt my head in confusion at her sudden interest in Winter. “Uh, yeah. I guess so.”

“How’d you two meet?” She asks with an odd amount of intrigue

For the most part, Minji is an open book. I never have to guess what she’s thinking or feeling, and unlike her parents, she never seems to be hiding some ulterior motive beneath a gentle exterior - until now. At first, I thought maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me, but being the open book she is, it became clear as day that Minji was hiding something. But why? Maybe it wasn’t my place to pry, but my instincts told me otherwise.

“We have english together, but we didn’t start being… ‘friends’ until a couple days ago. She and Yujin kinda just… inserted themselves into my life. And now we’re here,” I explain. Minji’s brow furrows in response.

“Wait, you only started talking a couple days ago? I thought you two were dating.” She hurriedly clasps her hand over her mouth as if she didn’t mean to let that out. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“We’re not dating,” I say a little too quickly. “Just friends.”

The cabin falls silent as both of our cheeks turn a light crimson. Minji turns back to the window, and my eyes gravitate towards her face once again as if that’s where they’re meant to be. The light and the shadows dance on her skin creating a work of art right in front of me. She’s beautiful in the most impossible way, defying everything I know about the world just by existing. My heart pumps faster and faster as my mind begins to run wild, imagining the two of us together as more than friends. Going on dates and being close. Just like this. Maybe Minji wanted to know if Winter and I were dating because she’s interested in me. I quickly shot that idea down. Those kinds of thoughts only lead down a bad road.

“My parents used to take my brother and I to the fair when we were younger,” Minji says, snapping me out of my daze. “We would go around and play all the games, trying to win the prizes. The games were always rigged, so we never won any. One time, I got so upset that I couldn’t win a bear toy that I started crying. My dad ended up paying extra just so he could get me the bear.” A gentle smile graces her face as she recounts her memory.

“We would always ride the ferris wheel at the end so we could watch the sunset from the top of the ferris wheel, just like this. I was always too short, so my dad had to hoist me up so I could see through the window.” She chuckles lightly before her smile eventually fades from her lips and her gaze falls to the floor. “Sorry, being here must have made me nostalgic. It’s been awhile since I got to watch the sunset from a ferris wheel.”

“Don’t be sorry. I like hearing you talk.” My eyes grow wide with panic as I realize the implication of my words. “I-I meant I like you. I MEAN YOUR STORY!! I liked your story…” My face falls into my palms in an attempt to hide the deepening blush, and I let out a muffled “Fuck” under my breath. I can hear Minji trying to stifle her laughter, which only makes me feel worse. I wanted nothing more than to bury myself six feet under and stay there for eternity.

“I know what you mea- AHHH!!!”

I jolt my head up right as Minji jumps from her seat and into my lap. Bewilderment, accompanied by a million other emotions, runs through my mind as she wraps her arms around my head and hides her face in the crook of my neck.

“M-Minji, uhh w-what are you-”

“There’s a spider on the seat!” She exclaims, her voice tingling with fear. I maneuver my head around her and see the tiniest spider I’ve ever seen scurrying around the spot where Minji once sat. “Ahhh, I really hate spiders!!”

I try to pry her body off of me, but her grip is tighter than an anaconda. A wave of deja vu washes over me as I suddenly start to feel lightheaded.

“M-Minji… Y-you’re choking m-me…” Right before I feel like I’m about to blackout, Minji releases her grip on my neck and slides off of my lap into the space next to me. The seat is a little cramped, but it’s better than dying in such an embarrassing way.

“I-I’M SO SORRY, YUNO!!” She apologizes, her face a bright tomato red. She flinches as the spider continues to move around on the opposite seat, wincing with each movement. “I-I really, really, really, REALLY hate spiders.”

Even after she almost choked me to death, I couldn’t help but find her cute as she shields her eyes with delicate hands, her face nestled into my shoulder. A grin threatens to grow on my lips as I try to comfort her with a few gentle pats on the head.

“I used to be afraid of spiders when I was a kid,” I began in a calming tone. “Whenever I saw one, I always cried to my parents about it. One day, I found one in the bathroom, so I ran to my mom sobbing and told her to kill it. Instead of killing it, she held me in her arms and carried me to the bathroom where it was. I was just like you, hiding my face on her shoulder because I was too scared to even look at it. In a gentle voice, she told me about how it was alone and probably looking for its family. If I killed it, then its family would be sad. She told me that she would be sad if I was suddenly killed when I was out all alone. From that day on, I was never afraid of spiders. Every time I saw one, I would carry it outside so it could find its family.”

I chuckle under my breath. “I don’t think it actually works like that, but I don’t kill spiders because of her. Because of my mom.”

As I finish my story, I notice Minji’s eyes watering and her lip quivering as if she’s about to cry. “Ah shit, are you okay?” I ask with great concern.

“S-Sorry, that was just… really sweet,” she sniffles. I bit my lip, trying to suppress my smile as I simultaneously fought the urge to wipe her tears away. As she calms down, we sit together in silence, watching the tiny spider walk around the cabin.

“He’s just a little guy,” Minji utters, a cute grin on her face. “I wonder why I was so scared of you before.”

Just then, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I open up the notification to see a selfie of Yujin and Danielle with the giant Spiderman plush wedged in between them. Despite Danielle’s awful personality, Yujin seems to like her, so I guess it’s alright. If I didn’t know any better, I could’ve easily mistaken them for siblings.

“Aww, that’s cute. We should send one back,” Minji suggests, her eyes lighting up.

“O-oh, uh, sure. How do I…” After a minute of hopelessly fumbling through the labyrinth of options on the screen, Minji gently takes the phone from me and opens up the camera with a simple tap.

“Do you know how to use a phone, Yuno?” She teases.

“U-uh, no…” I answer, scratching the back of my head in embarrassment. Her eyes widened with surprise at my response. “It’s my first phone, and I just got it today so I haven’t really had a chance to properly look through it.”

“O-okay, well just press on this gray square over here if you wanna open up the camera,” she explains in a kind tone, free of any judgment. She raises her arm and I can see the two of us reflected onto the screen. “Scoot a little closer so we can both be in the frame.”

With a gulp, I scoot closer to her in the already cramped space. The flowery scent of her hair wafts through my nostrils, gentle and clean. Hypnotized by the scent, I don’t realize I’m staring at her until she nudges me with her elbow.

“Look at the camera,” she reminds me, a knowing smile playing on her lips. The phone camera manages to catch the redness of my cheeks as I glance back at my reflection. Minji snaps a few shots before reviewing her work.

“They came out pretty well, don’t you think?” She inquires, and I can only nod in agreement, despite my less-than-stellar appearance in the photos. Minji, on the other hand, looks as pretty as ever. Even when she’s not doing much, the camera seems to pick up on all her good sides. She fiddles with my phone for a little bit before handing it back to me.

“Here, I put my number in so you can send me the photos,” she says. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“N-not at all,” I stutter excitedly, my heart soaring in the air. Minji giggles at my elation and we share a laugh in that cramped ferris wheel cabin. In that moment, as the sunset bathes us in its warm glow, everything falls into place. The weird feelings, the incessant thoughts - they all lead to one undeniable truth. I’m in love with Minji Kim.

______________________________________________________________

As I step out of the cabin, I see the rest of our friends waiting for us at the front of the ferris wheel. Instinctively, I reach my hand out towards Minji as she carefully steps out, which she accepts with a small grin adorning her lips. Though the contact is brief, the memory of her delicate hand in mine etches itself into my memory.

“Soooooo, did you two have fun?” Hanni asks us with an unnerving smirk that could only mean trouble. Before I get a chance to answer however, Minji grabs her wrist and leads her away.

“I-I’m going to the bathroom, Hanni you’re coming with me!” Her voice echoes as she drags Hanni away, trailed by the rest of her friends like ducklings following their mother. Perplexed, Winter, Yujin, and I settle onto a nearby bench to rest in the shade.

“The ferris wheel was fun, I took a lot of pictures of the sunset!” Yujin shares, displaying the photos on his phone. Almost his entire gallery was full of sun from slightly varying angles, along with a few selfies with Danielle. Her gentler side she exclusively shows to Yujin is such a stark contrast from her usual coldness, it’s almost unsettling.

“I feel exhausted.” Winter slumps beside me, her head tilting to the side as if she was too tired to even hold it up. “Hanni is really nice, but I felt so drained after talking to her for five minutes. I don’t know where she gets all that energy from.” I quietly snicker to myself. That seems on brand for Hanni.

My mind wanders back to the epiphany I had earlier. “Um, can I ask you two something… odd?” Their heads perk up, looking at me expectantly. “Have you guys ever… ‘dated’ anyone before?”

“I’ve had crushes before, but I was always too scared to confess,” Yujin admits.

“What about you, Winter? Have you ever had a boyfriend?” I ask.

“Um, not exactly…” With a hint of reluctance, she retrieves her phone from her purse, revealing a polaroid tucked in her phone case - a snapshot of Winter with her arms wrapped around a girl with striking eyes and jet black hair.

Both of our jaws drop, simultaneously shocked and impressed.

“Oh shit…” I mutter before coming to my senses. She’s pretty, but not Minji pretty.

“Wow, that’s your girlfriend, Winter?!” Yujin exclaims. Winter smiles shyly as she puts her phone back in her purse.

“Y-yeah. She’s studying in Japan right now, so I don't get to see her often. I hope she visits soon; I think you guys would get along with her really well.” The look on her face as she thinks of her girlfriend reminds me of my mother’s face in old wedding photos. I don’t understand anything about love or relationships, but that face told me everything I needed to know. “Why did you want to know, Yuno?”

My cheeks suddenly turn warm. “Oh, uh… No reason.”

As if on cue, Minji and the rest of her friends return from the restroom, with Minji looking noticeably flustered and Hanni more excited than ever.

“It’s getting dark, so we were planning on heading back,” Danielle says. “Do you guys need a ride home?”

“O-oh, it’s okay, w-we were gonna take the subway home,” Winter replies.

“WAIT!” Yujin shouts suddenly before turning to her. “Winter, can we ride with them? Pleaseeeeee?” He grabs her sleeve and looks up at her with pleading eyes.

“I-I guess if it’s okay with them.” “WOOHOO!” Yujin cheers. “I call shotgun!” He dashes toward the parking lot, his Spiderman plush bobbing in his arms.

“Hey, that’s my seat!” Hanni exclaims, running after him. In the midst of commotion, I sneak over to Minji.

“H-hi,” I stutter, brimming with nervous excitement.

“H-hey.” Even with the sun completely set, her smile manages to illuminate everything around us. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but the air felt different compared to the times we’ve talked before. That strange yet euphoric feeling still lingers in my chest, this time I finally know what that feeling is - I think. Maybe it’s love, maybe it’s the fumes of fried food decaying my brain. The only thing I know for sure is that I like being around Minji.

“Are you two going to come with us or no?” Hyein calls out to us while Haerin glares suspiciously in our direction. Flustered, we walk side by side towards the parking lot, following distantly behind the rest of the group. The scattered murmurs of the crowd begin to fade behind us, the chirping of crickets and the subtle crunching of rocks underneath our feet taking their place. An ombre of growing indigo looks down at us from a cloudless sky, dotted with specks of starlight thousands of lightyears away. Despite their distance, they shine brightly against the night sky, almost as bright as the girl walking next to me.

“Yuno,” Minji voice breaks through my daydreams, pulling me back to the present. “You’re staring.”

“Ah… Sorry…” I turn my head away to hide the heat creeping up my face, prompting a soft giggle from her.

“You know, you’re not what I expected at all.”

Curious, I turn my gaze back towards her. “What do you mean?”

Her eyebrows furrow as she thinks about her response, and I bite my lower lip to stifle my smile at her cute expression. “Ever since sophomore year, I’ve always heard whispers about this scary guy that goes around fighting people. I never believed it because I thought it was too cliche to be true,” she begins, shooting me a playful glance I scratch the back of my head, suddenly feeling sheepish.

“That is, until two years later, when I come face to face with the ‘scary guy’, all bloody and bruised from a fight that happened two seconds ago. When I first met you, I thought you were some jerk who liked hurting others for the fun of it. I was wrong and I’m sorry.” Minji looks up at me, eyes full of remorse. I’ve seen others use this look on the people I’ve hurt, but never on me. To be on the receiving end of it felt disconcerting.

“You don’t have to apolog-”

“You’re kind and caring and you never hesitate to stand up for what’s right even when no one else will. While I don’t agree with your methods, I think the reason why you fight is very admirable, and if people just stopped being scared of you for two seconds, they could see how cute of a person you are.” Her hand shoots up to her mouth while her eyes go wide with panic.

Did I hear her right? Did she just call me… cute??

“I MEANT GOOD!!” She exclaims, correcting herself. “I meant to say you’re a good person…” We stand there, turned away from each other, too embarrassed to fill the growing silence. The chorus of crickets is quickly drowned out by my heartbeat echoing in my ears. My entire body feels both uncomfortably warm and freezing cold at the same time. The sudden honk of a car horn makes us both jump.

“What are you two still doing? Let’s go!” I turn to see Hanni yell at us from the back seat of an SUV. It seems that Yujin got to the front seat first. Minji and I both trudge towards the car, too embarrassed to even look at each other. Hanni steps out of the car and reclines the seat forward to let us get into the back, where Winter is sitting alone with two empty seats on either side of her.

As we settle in the back seat, I immediately shut my eyes, hoping that falling asleep would make things better. One final thing stays in my mind as I slip into unconsciousness.

She thinks I’m cute.

______________________________________________________________

A gentle shake rouses me from my slumber.

“Yuno, we’re here,” I hear Winter say as my eyes slowly open, finding my bearings. Outside the window, I see the convenience store where Winter works at.

“Winter said you guys live around here, so I hope you don’t mind,” Danielle explains from the front seat. Minji and Hanni step out of the car, allowing for Winter and I to exit.

“See you guys around,” Hanni says, waving goodbye. My eyes meet Minji’s momentarily before we swiftly break away. Not even a second of eye contact and I can already feel my body temperature rising.

“Thanks for the ride! Byeeeeee!” Yujin exclaims as the car disappears down the street. The three of us say our goodbyes to each other before we go our separate ways.

A flurry of emotions fills my stomach as I look back on the oddly eventful day. What started as an excuse to get out of the house turned into my first time at the fair, with Minji no less. I couldn’t help but feel like I’m in some surreal dream and that I’ll wake up one day to find out that none of this ever happened. As odd as all of this feels, I have to admit that I did enjoy it. The ferris wheel especially was… fun.

As I enter my house, I see my dad sitting on the couch, watching some sitcom on the TV. Right. I completely forgot he’s “different” now.

“Hey, Yuno,” he greets, a bright smile on his face. It’s the first time in a while that I’ve seen his smile. “Did you eat? There’s leftover pizza in the fridge if you’re hungry. I tried to cook dinner, but it didn’t turn out right.” A hearty chuckle leaves his lips, a sound that I vaguely remember hearing years ago.

“I’m good. Thanks,” I say as I head towards the stairs. As my foot lands on the first step, a sudden impulse arises within me. “Uh, dad?”

“Hm?” His eyebrows perk up as he looks at me expectantly. I had no idea what I was planning on saying to him. Should I tell him about my day? Should I apologize? Should I tell him about my… “crush”? Is that what that is?

“Uh… Nevermind.” I hurry up the stairs, deciding against saying anything. My head was already filled to the brim with confusing emotions, I didn’t need to add more to the pile. I collapse onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling, the events of today playing in my mind like a broken record. I pull my phone out, fidgeting with the shiny piece of metal in my hand. Minji put her number in my phone. I can talk to her whenever I wanted to. And I do want to. My thumbs freeze right above the keyboard as I figure out what to say to her.

Maybe I should keep it simple with “Hey”. No, that’s too boring. How about “How are you feeling?” What am I, her doctor? Uhhh, maybe “I had fun today.” That’s stupid. Come on, think, Yuno, think. Fuck, I’m shit at this.

Is this what having a crush feels like? This sucks.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

“AGHHHHHHHHH!!!!” I scream into my pillow, hoping I don’t accidentally alert my parents to my “Teenage Angst”.

Minji!!! Why did you call him cute!? I mean, you’re not wrong, the way he got all embarrassed after missing the basketball hoop was kinda cut- WHAT!? WHAT ARE YOU EVEN THINKING RIGHT NOW!? ARGHHHHHH!!!

I hold onto my bear toy for comfort as I wrestle with the conflicting emotions in my head. Maybe this is just a result of all the stress from prom preparation clouding my judgement and sending me into a whirlwind of confusion. A day that was supposed to be full of leisure and enjoyment was instead full of jealousy and confusion. It wasn’t entirely bad though; riding the ferris wheel with Yuno was… nice. I feel my heart flutter in my chest as I recall that memory. Surely, Hanni’s teasing couldn’t be right… could it? Am I… in love with Yuno Lin?

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