#warms my heart of how much of a good person Felix is

[forlix]

‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 (besides myself)・l.f.

— you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

words・5.4k

pairing・lee felix x gn!reader

genres・babysitter!au, girldad!lix, nobody look at me, toothrotting fluff, more angst than originally intended tbh, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending yayyy, non-linear storyline

warnings・cousin has a korean name and experiences one (1) minor head bump, mc is temporarily heartbroken and experiences one (1) breakdown

playlist・house song by searows・glad by tori kelly・let's pretend by del water gap・you were good to me by jeremy zucker

a/n・hiiii my loves, i'm so unbelievably excited to bring u my first contribution to my and @astraystayyh's collaboration, "winter falls" ♡ every time i write for our ray of sunshine i'm reminded of how thankful i am to love him. this fic ruined me. hope it does the same to you (smile)

I. everything

“One day,” you muttered to the toddler sitting on your shoulders, “you’ll experience something deeply, irreversibly humbling, and I’ll be there to witness your downfall.”

Byeol responded to this with an unbothered babble. She then gathered two handfuls of your hair and yanked using far too much force to be biologically possible.

You folded like a lawn chair. “Mother—!”

Oh, that word was not suitable for button-sized ears.

“—oh, my dear mother, why? Why me?”

Technically speaking, your aunt should’ve been the target of your lamentations, but all she did was produce the child presently steering you around the kitchen like you were her own personal bumper car. Your own mother was the one who volunteered you to watch said child during the first weekend of your winter break. Only for an hour until the babysitter arrives, she’d said (raising her voice, so as to be heard over your groaning).

You adored Byeol. She made scarily accurate chipmunk sounds and possessed an immobilizing fear of grapes. She bust out a dance move before she took her first steps. The girl could have you floored with laughter without being able to say more than three words at a time. Still, this was far from how you imagined onsetting your desperately-needed few weeks off. Not to mention it was now half past three; your shift should’ve ended two minutes ago.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Byeol emitted an excited onomatopoeia like a golden retriever detecting the mailman. Your reaction wasn’t too far off; you swiveled your head in the sound’s direction, sang out “coming!” in a delighted vibrato, and twirled into the foyer, your hands around Byeol’s ankles anchoring her in place.

You cracked open the door and found yourself face-to-face with Byeol’s babysitter. The freckles scattered across his high cheekbones and sloping nose seemed to you like they were imprinted by the sun itself. His hair was dark, falling just shy of pitch black, and long, ending an inch or so below pierced ears. A few misbehaving strands rested over his forehead but did little to obstruct your view of his eyes: profoundly brown and pointed at either end, like poinsettia petals.

He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You felt your skin warm, your heart flip. You opened your mouth. 

Then Byeol hit her head against the vertical edge of the front door, loud enough for it to echo.

The panic that seized you in that moment was truly unlike anything you’d experienced before. You caught one glimpse of the stranger’s expression (as mortified as you expected), and then you were seeing your own epitaph on the inside of your eyelids, engraved with the four words “Death by Furious Aunt.”

“Was that—?” The man sputtered, and his voice was rich and full and accented and just as breathtaking as the rest of him and holy fucking shit now was not the time.

“My fucking god,” you whispered, completely forgetting to watch your mouth. In a hurry, you swung Byeol off your shoulders and dropped to a knee. You leaned in close to examine her reddening forehead and cradled the plush of her cheek; she blinked at you a few times, fascinated by the sudden sight of your face again.

“You okay, Byeollie? That hurt a lot, didn’t it? I’m so, so sorr—”

Byeol started to laugh.

Not laugh as in those little chuckles she let out randomly, like there was something inherently amusing about the kitchen cupboard, but laugh as in a boisterous, resounding guffaw, like a great-uncle at a family gathering off one too many martinis.

This rendered you speechless for the second time in under a minute. Then, you lifted your other hand to cradle her other cheek, her face now sandwiched between your palms, and squeezed.

“I broke my cousin,” you whispered, your voice was so deathly serious that the man in the doorway had to stifle a laugh of his own.

His knee brushed against your shin as he sat down to your left, folding his legs into a criss-cross. You could discern notes of lavender and orange blossoms in the delicate cologne that clung to him, perforated the air and your mind both.

“Can I?” He asked.

“Please.”

Carefully, you shifted Byeol’s small frame towards him; the manner in which he accepted her was so smooth and practiced that there was no doubt in your mind you were watching a professional at work. He settled her on his right knee, then dipped his head to look her in the eye.

“Hi, princess,” he cooed with a dulcet smile. He curved his pointer finger, dusted it beneath her chin. “Why are you laughing, silly girl?”

Oh.

Oh.

You might just continue your lineage after all.

“Y/N-ie,” she answered, still tittering.

He looked to you with a slight tilt to his head, and you nodded affirmatively. He murmured a quiet ah. “What about Y/N-ie?”

Somehow you sensed that she was about to embarrass you and pinched the bridge of your nose—in preparation.

“P-pretty.” I knew it!

The man let out the laugh he’d been holding back since earlier and tapped on her button nose, lowered his voice to a whisper that he knew you could hear.

“I agree.” His eye glinted playfully, matching his tone. “And so are you.” The bashful, high-pitched giggle she responded with sounded eerily similar to your inner monologue.

The two of you spent a little longer on the floor of the foyer making sure Byeol was okay, and then the girl upped and made a mad dash for the kitchen while yelling something about a horse, and if that didn’t confirm that she was completely fine (albeit incredibly strange) you didn’t know what would. You found her rolling around the carpet in the room adjacent to the kitchen and left her to her own devices while you and her babysitter fixed up a small fruit plate for her afternoon snack. No grapes, of course.

He told you he usually went by Felix, but that his Korean name was probably easier for Byeol to pronounce, with its easier consonants and whatnot. You asked which name he preferred, and he said either or. He was a recent college graduate, a year older than you, who was determined to spend at least the next two years doing nothing but working out his future. He accepted the part-time babysitting position to pick up some light cash in the process.

“And ‘cause I’m good with kids,” he added, splitting apart a tangerine. “So I’ve been told.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” you said, plating a couple blueberries. “You melted her earlier.”

“She melted me. She’s so cute. And you’re so cute with her—I didn’t realize I was robbing someone of their job.”

You turned your head to regard the tot and let out a helpless laugh. Byeol tired of being a human lint roller a few minutes ago and had since moved on to staring aimlessly out the window.

“She doesn’t take me seriously, and I can’t stay mad at her,” you mused. “I would be a nightmare as her babysitter, trust me. She’s all yours.”

Felix held out two overturned handfuls of tangerine slices, to which you quickly moved the platter across the counter. He didn’t respond to your comments as he placed them on the outermost edge so that they looked like rays of sun emanating from a multicolored core. Adorable.

“Will you be around much, then?”

You made eye contact with him across the counter. On his perfect face was a teasing smirk and a subtle blush. Ah, you’d been mistaken, writing off his silence as concentration—he’d been contemplating how to best flirt with you.

“Y’know. In case I need any help teaching her cuss words,” he appended.

It was then your turn to flush a couple shades darker. “Please don’t tell her mom.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He walked around the perimeter of the counter until he was directly in front of you; the lavender and orange blossoms returned. “On one condition.”

Not even one hour on the job and he was already trying to blackmail you? You respected it. “Which is?”

As he shifted some of his weight onto the counter, something too shifted in his smile, giving it a quality that was every bit as hopeful as it was gentle.

It was then, while Lee Felix was looking at you like that, all dilated pupils and long lashes, when you predicted that he would one day break your heart. You predicted you’d let him.

“Be around,” he said simply.

It wasn’t a question or a demand. In hindsight, you think it was more akin to a birthday wish, ill-fated the moment it hit the air.

II. has changed

Felix pulled Byeol’s hood up and over her ears, and you realized he was right about the winter coat getting too small for her—she looked like a bowling pin. You muffled your snort into your scarf.

“And what was the last rule again?” He asked, his breath puffing into the frigid afternoon in tiny clouds. Byeol sighed like she knew anything of the world’s woes.

“No barking at other kids,” came the sad reply, but a toothy smile spread across her face anyways when Felix nudged the underside of her chin. She loved when he did that.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed. “I believe in you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you said, and the wounded look Felix shot you was like you’d just confessed to hating kittens. “Come on—she doesn’t have a good track record. I’m allowed to have my doubts.”

“I dunno what that means,” Byeol announced with admirable frankness, and then turned around and scurried down the porch stairs, scattering fun-sized footprints across the snowy streets.

As you braced yourself to follow her, Felix stopped you with a slip of his hand into the pocket of your puffer. His fingers first aligned with yours inside the insulated nylon, then chased the spaces in between. He leaned in close, placed a kiss on the apple of your cheek, another on the corner of your mouth. This brought a helpless smile to your face, too. He had a way of melting you and Byeol both.

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed. “A little barking never hurt anybody, baby.”

“Lix, last time somebody called animal control.”

“Ermm—a little barking never hurt most people.”

That winter, Byeol was four, and your relationship with Felix was about to turn two.

Funnily enough, you’d never figured out when your anniversary actually was. Felix wagered it was the day you met, as he knew he loved you the instant he saw you; you insisted it was months later, since it took both of you an entire winter break of open-ended flirting and informal dating to label yourselves for real. Imagine your horror when he showed up outside your college apartment on the last day of your fall semester, arms overflowing with flowers and gift bags brimming with your favorite things, the phrase “happy anniversary” on his lips three months before you perceived it to be. You’ve celebrated both days ever since.

You loved the ocean growing up. You didn’t get to visit it often, but when you did you would run up to the water’s very edge so that your toes dipped into the cold—and just stand there, observing, absorbing, until even the seam of your lips and the ends of your eyelashes were studded with crystals of seasalt. You found endless tranquility in its rhythmic whispers and unspeakable comfort in its oscillating waves, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Your fascination stemmed from the folktale your mother used to read to you before bed, about a sun goddess creating the earth. In the story, every component of nature was one of the sun’s beloved children. She allegedly loved them all, but you suspected the ocean was her favorite; it was obvious, the way she twinkled off its ebbing surface, the way every minuscule spot of light looked to you like a handprint of hers, left behind by eons of endless doting.

Felix reminded you of the ocean. Every day you grew more certain that you wanted to drown in him, to let his resonant voice and kind eyes sweep and keep you inside his depths. It was never salt that he pressed into your skin but warmth, stamped and sealed with caring hands and cautious lips. His deep whispers promised eternal love and temporary ecstasy and everything in between. You knew he would come back to you even if stranded in a different realm. And there was no questioning the goddess’ favoritism, either. The freckles on his face mirrored the sun’s very spots like an homage to his creator.

You didn’t love the ocean growing up, no. You had never loved before Felix.

The park was busy when the three of you arrived. Byeol and Felix recognized a few families as your aunt’s neighbors and hurried over to say hello. Your social butterflies. 

“I’ll be over there,” you called after them.

Felix stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder. It had started snowing lightly on your walk there, and snowflakes now sat atop his sable locks. He looked like a painting. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes.” You shooed them off. “Don’t worry about me. Go have fun.” 

With that, you withdrew to the sidelines, an unoccupied swingset adjacent to a baseball diamond covered in frost. 

Your baby cousin was brawny for her age, which you could’ve seen coming with how she was hauling at your hair two years ago, but even she couldn’t yet terrorize the playground without assistance. Who better to make her partner in crime than her favorite Bokkie? You couldn’t help but giggle as the two revolved around each other for the better part of an hour, Byeol’s smile colossal as she frolicked every which way, Felix’s smile worried but hopelessly endeared as he followed behind. He never let her leave his shadow. She never tried to.

It was there on those icy swings that you experienced a moment of strange clarity, like you’d broken the fourth wall of your own story. You could feel the winds of change blowing your hair across your shoulders. You were aware of time’s trickling from the gaps of your fingers like liquid mercury.

Your laughter dissipated to a bittersweet smile; your smile mellowed to dewy eyes. It seemed like just yesterday when Byeol was small enough to sit on your shoulders and Felix stepped into your kitchen for the first time. Now, she was scaling a rope ladder with the celerity of a crazed monkey while Felix hovered a wary hand by her waist. The muted sunlight caught on the silver rings he wore, particularly the thin, bright one on his middle finger. You had one just like it, adorning the same place. 

The last two years were the happiest of your life. Why couldn’t you remember where they went?

Lavender and orange blossoms announced your boyfriend’s arrival—that, and the sigh of fatigue that he expelled as he dropped into the swing next to you.

“I’m not cut out for this anymore.”

Byeol’s neighbor had temporarily relieved Felix of his post by taking her and his son to test out the seesaw, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town could hear her enthusiastic shrieking.

“You know how people walk their dogs?” You mused. “Some dogs walk their people. She’s one of them.”

For a moment, he could only stare in disbelief at the grin creeping across your face; then, he groaned in a way that could only mean you were right on the money. You gave his thigh a sympathetic pat.

“You’re whipped, my love. It’s okay.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, suddenly perking up. “Hey, no barking though.”

“Are we considering that a win nowadays?”

“Do you see animal control anywhere?”

“Good point.”

Felix monitored your expression during the quiet interval that ensued—saw through the melancholy curve of your lips, the pensive slant of your gaze. There was a red tinge to the whites of your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

You saw him reach for you in your periphery. His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, remained there for three slow heartbeats, and then lifted away.

“Angel,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not.” Not even ten seconds after the last time, he reached for you again, now to take your hand and bring it to his lap. “You know it’s not.”

“It’s just that—”

Felix thumbed over the ridges of your knuckles, his touch so gentle that it could’ve unraveled a chrysalis; it certainly unraveled you. You took a stabilizing breath.

“I wish could recognize my own happiness in the moment,” you sighed, “not just in retrospect. That way, even when it comes to an end, I’d still be able to look back and say with confidence that I was happy once. I’d like that, I think.”

His brows knit together as he processed your words, and, the next thing you knew, he left his swing trembling in his sudden absence and his trenchcoat became a black blur in the cold air.

Felix rested his elbows atop your knees as he knelt in front of you, cradled your face in his hands. He was achingly beautiful always, but you truly felt your breath swiped from your lungs at the new proximity of his ethereal features: petal-shaped eyes, wind-bitten cheeks, coral cupid’s bow. A painting.

“That’s easy enough,” Felix hummed. “How do you feel right now?”

You had zero agency in the smile this brought to your face. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your answer quick, thoughtless. “Happy.”

He pressed his lips to the space between your eyes. “And now?”

“Happier.”

He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw. “What about now?” 

“Even happier.”

His gaze flickered to his final destination, but you beat him to it, sealing your mouth against his with urgency. The kiss that followed was so intensely loving that your head went fuzzy. How was it that you felt his adoration for you even in his pliant lips, his velvet tongue? You ran your fingers through the part of his hair. You loved when you could feel the locks flutter back into place afterwards.

“GET A ROOM!”

You and Felix pulled away from one another, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Byeol was approximately five Newtons away from soaring off into the stratosphere, her legs jostling around as she clung to her seat for dear life. It seemed your neighbor had a very aggressive way of seesaw-maneuvering. It seemed your cousin had a very aggressive vocabulary.

“Where did she learn—?” The two of you began in unison, then shot your heads back towards each other.

“It had to be you.”

“Outrageous—you’re the Australian here!”

“You cuss like one too!”

“Because of you!”

“So we’re just lying now?”

“Well, yes.”

Felix cracked a smile—and then the two of you were dying of laughter, his right eye squinting closed and your forehead thudding onto his shoulder. You hardly managed to get out your next words. “We have to do something about her vernacular, don’t we?”

“Oh, badly,” he replied. “Badly.”

After you expended your giggles, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, blissful, glowing. “Thank you, baby.”

“What for?”

“Being my happiness.”

He angled your face back to his and kissed you once more, whispering I love you like it wasn’t enough that it graced your ears; he needed it embossed upon your flesh in permanent ink.

Your intermingled breaths floated up into the air like flare signals over a capsizing boat. Here marks the time we were happiest.

III. (besides myself)

He’s blonde.

That’s the first thing you notice when you see your ex-boyfriend on your aunt’s porch: the slightly off-white color of his silky tresses, grown out longer than you’ve ever seen, pushed off his forehead and tucked behind his ears.

It’s not the only thing you notice, of course. His face has thinned ever so slightly, the shadows thrown over his features by the streetlights behind him particularly opaque. His outfit is glorious, expensive, with the black blazer and white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, the pendant of a silver necklace resting between toned collarbones. His hands are almost overflowing with what must be gifts for your family. It’s impossible to discern all of them from this distance, but you know the bouquet of white poinsettias is for your mom, the batch of brownies doused in sprinkles and icing for Byeol.

But the hair is where your gaze returns, because tucked among the platinum strands are black roots: millimeters of the color you grew to adore, peeking out as if trying to catch a glimpse of you, too.

You’re so occupied with this game of “I spy” that you don’t notice the rampant footsteps coming up behind you. Your six-year-old cousin collides with the back of your leg head-on and nearly topples you like a bowling pin.

“Is it him?” She asks breathlessly.

You come this close to berating her as you steady yourself against the wall—what did I say about treating human beings like couch cushions? But you look down to see her chin resting on the side of your thigh, her eager eyes shining so brightly that she puts her own namesake to shame. Your scolding tirade dissolves on your tongue like popping candy.

You simply sigh instead. “Yes, but—”

“BOKKIE!” She shrieks, and Felix’s head snap upwards at the sound of her voice. His tender smile melts some of the frost laminating your heart.

You crack open the door, making eye contact with Felix for the first time in six months.

“Put everything down. Quickly,” you whisper, and he obeys right away, alarmed by the urgency in your voice. A wise choice.

The last present has hardly touched down upon the wooden planks when Byeol wriggles through the doorway and charges towards Felix like an angered toro. He swivels at her bright holler of his name, lowers himself to a squat just barely in time to catch her in his embrace. The delighted laugh that leaves his mouth as he staggers backwards sounds like the sun itself; you feel lost in orbit hearing it again.

“Bokkie,” Byeol murmurs, her voice muffled in the dip of his shoulder, by the tightening of her arms around his neck.

“Hi, princess.” He kisses her temple, presses his nose against her hair. “Whoa, you’ve grown strong, haven’t you?”

“She takes taekwondo classes now,” you hum from above, and the shock in his face asks the very question that your poignant smile confirms. Yes, because of you.

Felix pulls away, cocoons her cheeks with cherishing hands. “Is that true?”

She bobs her head. “I want to be like Bokkie.”

And his eyes go impossibly, terribly soft, like he’s gazing at the horizon itself. The sight twists the knife in your gut and yanks on your tangled heartstrings. It’s all because of you.

“And kick some ass!” Byeol adds, knocking you out of your sentimental spiral. You clap a defeated hand to your forehead. Felix falls over himself. So much for fixing her vernacular.

A few minutes later, Byeol is pirouetting towards the kitchen with a couple of Felix’s smaller presents in her arms, all too happy to be of help. You linger behind as Felix takes off his shoes, your cousin’s departure leaving the two of you alone in the dim foyer.

Felix straightens. The two of you come face to face. The air hangs so heavily with unspoken words that you half expect it to start dripping.

“Hi,” he says.

You nearly laugh at the cruelty of it. The man you were certain you’d grow old with greeting you like you’ve been forced to sit next to each other on the first day of school.

“Hi,” you answer. “You look—”

The two of you say this last part in unison; old habits die hard.

“—nice,” you finish.

“—beautiful,” Felix breathes, his eyes flicking off to the side abashedly.

Your throat constricts, pulse quickens. Says you. If he was a painting before, you think he’s a sculpture now, his perfection as tangible as if hand-chiseled by the greatest artists of old. As clear as the sun’s beloved sea. You can’t tell if it’s his stylist’s doing or simply a product of him growing into himself.

“Thank you,” you reply quietly. “And thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think you would.”

“I didn’t do it for me.”

No part of you wants to see the subtle wince that crosses his face at your statement, so you turn your gaze to his jewelry-laden hands instead. 

For a split second, you swear you see the same promise ring settled in the same place on his middle finger. You realize what you’re really looking at only after blinking the phosphenes from your eyes: the thin tanline that it left behind. The realization fixes and destroys you all at once.

Then, Byeol starts wailing about Felix’s whereabouts like an actress hired to spare you from this very interaction.

“Her Highness beckons.” The smile you manage feels like drying cement. “Shall we?”

On your way to the kitchen, you notice the cologne emanating from his person smells only of citrus—no lavender. Its absence steadies you, deludes you into believing that it’s a stranger you’ve just let inside.

That illusion lasts for exactly three hours and forty-eight minutes.

It’s clear that the breakup has your family walking on eggshells, but it’s even clearer that their adoration for Felix has never wavered. You’ve never resigned yourself to the restroom so many times in one night, only to stand with your back against the door, unmoving, unfeeling, listening to the low thrum of his voice through the mahogany. Chatting comfortably with your aunt, bursting into laughter with Byeol, reminding you of the time you considered him family too. 

With every glance you toss your reflection, you discover new cracks in your composure. Has he noticed them yet?

After you come out of the restroom for the sixth time, you notice a light spilling from Byeol’s bedroom into the hallway. A low Australian accent graces your ears, followed closely by a tinkling giggle, and your body nudges you towards the sounds before your head can intervene.

You give your cousin’s door a feather-light nudge. It opens a few centimeters more and grants you vision of Byeol tucked into bed, Felix knelt at her side. Both of their faces are illuminated by the flaxen light of the nearby lamp.

Felix brushes her choppy bangs out of her eyes, a teasing smile on his lips. “Can I tell you a secret, princess?”

This wrests from her another fluttering laugh; you swear he’s the only person in the whole world who makes her shy. “Sure!”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.”

“Not even Snernard.”

“M’kay.”

“Or Bong.”

“M’kay.”

“Especially not Trash the chicken. I don’t trust him.”

“I know, I know, I won’t!” Byeol huffs, and Felix laughs at her outburst. You also snort into your sleeve, amused (and deeply perplexed) by your cousin’s plushie-naming conventions.

“Thank you,” he hums, and he lowers his voice enough that you don’t catch the next thing he says.

All you perceive is the way that Byeol reacts. She sits up straight in bed, resting her back against her pillow. Her features rearrange themselves slowly, awfully, like the spread of cherry-flavored cough syrup over one’s sore throat, into the furthest thing from her trademark too-big-for-her-face smile.

Your stomach plummets to your fucking ankle.

“Why?” Her voice sounds microscopic.

“Well, do you remember what Bokkie’s dream job is?”

Byeol considers for a moment. “Being a singer?”

“That’s right.” He runs a knuckle over the hill of her cheek, the action achingly familiar, immensely fond. “And I found a place where I can do that, but it’s very, very far away. I won’t be able to come home very often.”

The telltale signs appear as he speaks; the final word sets them into motion. A tear streaks down the side of Byeol’s face. It hardly leaves the corner of her eye before it’s being intercepted by a doting swipe of his thumb.

“No,” she replies.

“You've grown so much.” Another tear falls. He wipes away that one, too. “You’re growing so well.”

“No,” she repeats.

“You’ve stolen the light of every star in the sky already. The whole galaxy will be yours someday, sweetheart. I know it.”

“I don’t want it,” she whispers. “I want my Bokkie.”

His vision starts to blur also. “But you don’t need me anymore.”

“We do.”

You know the precise moment Felix’s heart pauses in his chest because it is when yours does too.

“We?” He repeats, and she nods.

“Your dream job is being a singer.” Now Byeol is the one to reach for Felix, her delicate hand cupping the curve of his cheek. Her fingers are too small to catch his tears, she tries anyways—

“But what is your dream?”

It becomes too much for you.

You turn around. A choked sob escapes from behind the hand you have sealed to your mouth, causing both heads inside Byeol’s room to whirl in your direction. You don’t care that you nearly break both of your ankles beelining up the stairs; you only care to get the fuck out of that hallway.

You topple into your room, close the door behind you, and crumble.

Your quivering hands find purchase around your folded legs; your eyes squeeze shut against your knees. Rivulets of tears cascade over your shuddering lips like ruptured barrels of wine, left in the cellars of your soul to age, to spoil.

You never wanted your grief to see the light of day. Pouring your regret over every sidewalk wouldn’t change the past. Splashing your heartache across every wall like the world’s most fucked-up mural wouldn’t alleviate the pain of losing him. He was the one who left, but you were the one who’d asked him to. Feeling, yearning, mourning. Those always seemed so futile.

But you’re not just crying in this moment, rocking back and forth on your bedroom floor; you’re bleeding, the wounds you never treated igniting all at once as if exposed to vinegar, leaving you writhing and gasping in their wake. How you wish they’d been able to heal sooner. Maybe then seeing Felix tonight wouldn’t have splintered your soul like dropped porcelain.

Your door clicks open. Your breath hitches in your throat with a quiet scratch. The gulp of oxygen you intake tastes of oranges.

Every night before you fall asleep, you still think of the last time you visited the sea. The cool sand chafing against your toes, the coarse winds slapping your hair against your face hard enough to sting. The weather was terrible (you neglected to check the forecast before making the drive), but when you stepped onto the embittered coastline, you took what felt like the first real breath of your young adulthood. The fog melded to your skin as if melting a blindfold away, showing you the world in its entirety.

You return to that beach when Felix pulls you into his chest, and there’s no fog this time. Just the faint smell of lavender and your ocean, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Feverishly, Felix presses his lips to your temple, the apple of your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. Brokenly, he utters, “it’s you.”

You can feel his shaking in every part of him: the tickling breath, the fluttering eyelashes, the unsteady hand that reaches into the pocket of his blazer. You graze your fingers over his jaw, an attempt to steady his careening heart, only to lose yours in the fray also when he produces a small red box of unmistakable dimensions.

“God, it’s you. It always has been, always will be. Anything can change except for this.” His voice disintegrates as he speaks. You disintegrate as you listen. “Everything has changed besides myself.”

Felix leans back in to pepper kisses across the expanse of your wet features, then brings himself to one fated knee. He flicks open the lid. You don’t even spare the ring a glance; you don’t doubt its perfection. All you care to look at is the love of your life, deliquesced to adoration and tearwater.

“Thank you for being around, my dream.” His soft smile tends to your scars like ambrosia. “Will you let me do the same?”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

[nyursi]

𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐘!

꒰ † ੭‎ㅤNSFW 18+ㅤ(MDNI)...  oliver never thought that arriving at saltburn would leave a much more deep and sinister ache in his bones. and it's all because of you. felix is no better.ㅤノㅤnot proofread.

ᡴꪫ‎ TODAY'S SPECIAL!ㅤfelix catton, oliver quick.

WOULD YOU LIKE SPRINKLES? (っω=`)ㅤm!rdr, no spoilers surprisingly, weird stuff cause its oliver (but felix is weird too), wet dreams, stealing underwear, drugging, groping, somnophilia.

                 ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

It was alluring, really. Who could say no to the gorgeous stone walls of the castle? With its very own glamorous inhabitants to match as well. Saltburn practically begged Oliver to come and take it all for himself.

And who was he to deny that call?

Felix Catton too, bore the same charisma. The boy always had everyones eyes on him, no matter the place or time. There was just something about him that grabbed all the attention.

Like a magnet, attracting all the girls and boys to present themselves just to gain a spot in Felix's long list of night stands.

So when Felix so graciously offered for Oliver to spend the summer with him, how could he say no?

He felt so fulfilled, seeing the extravagant hallways, walls lined with all the odd things they had, and the majestic carpets complementing the floor. But nothing ever compared to the feeling that hit him like a truck when he met you.

It was unexpected. There was a quick panic that you, of all people, would ruin his plans, to conquer the estate and banish all the Catton's from existence. I mean, who were you? A relative? Close friend? Surely someone important enough for Elspeth and Sir James to let you stay.

"This is my friend," Felix introduced, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, having noticed the tension between you two. Despite the awkwardness filling the air; you excitedly held out your hand for Oliver to shake. "How come I've never seen you around?" He asked.

You shrugged, "I don't go to Oxford."

Oliver must've not realized how tight his grip had been on your hand, not until you struggled to pull away. Felix smirked in amusement. "Now now, play nice Oliver. He's fragile, and I'd prefer my little friend to be in good condition at all times."

"Felix!" You groaned, nudging against his chest. Rolling your eyes playfully, you shook your head and looked to Oliver. "Don't listen to him, roughhouse all you want." The sweet smile reached your eyes, but the words that accompanied it were venomous. "He did it all the time when we were little. Actually, he still does."

Oh. So you two were close.

He didn't know why, but it left a rather bitter taste in his mouth. Was it because you were close with Felix? Or because Felix was close with you?

Either way, Oliver quickly realized that it just made sense for both of you to be friends. You were a warm light that drew everyone closer, huddling for the warmth you gave so generously. With your attractive physique to accompany such a bright personality made Oliver's heart flutter in a way that made him unsure. (Not to mention that cute boyish smile you had on your face nearly 24/7.)

Had you attended Oxford too— he was sure you and Felix would be a duo no one could forget. A package deal, he'd say.

Oliver found it uncomfortable how quick you were able to get on his good side. You were just so... likeable. In a way that whenever you and Felix would mess around, he found it endearing.

Two utterly perfect boys with the most perfect relationship. Everyone in Oxford would kill to be you.

But Oliver would kill to take Felix's place.

And that thought shocked him; Oliver never thought there would ever be someone else to hold on pedestal, higher than the throne Felix sat on. Because he wanted that closeness, the intimacy of your so called friendship, your very being down to your bones.

He was desperate to have your attention, to join in your silly little inside jokes that Oliver could never understand, to be the reason of your giggles and reddened cheeks from laughter, how your chest heaved with every intense howl deep from your chest, not Felix.

It's not like he didn't notice Felix's unwavering affection towards you. It almost made Oliver chuckle out loud, the first time he found out how enamored Felix was with the boy he wanted to get rid of.

He didn't know he'd too, join the bandwagon of steadfast interest towards Felix's friend. (Boy toy, Oliver wanted to say. But with how platonic you are with him, he doubts the godsend Felix ever had a chance to devour you.)

No worries, Oliver will just take things in his own hands. He'll handle these pressing matters, like how he always has and always will. It's just in his nature. He may never be the strongest, or most attractive in the room, but he sure is the smartest.

Hell— he's definitely the most intelligent amongst those in Saltburn. That's for sure.

You were just incredibly dumb. Gullible, naive— too trusting. Too ready to welcome the outsider Oliver Quick within the estate, who looked like he was attempting to take and seal away Felix from ever seeing you again.

Did you really not feel their burning gazes on your body? Whenever you donned the awfully tight swim shorts at the pond; neither could pull away their eyes because of how it hugged your frame. Showing off the curve of your hips and your behind, displaying a waist that they wanted to grab so badly, and thighs that could be stared at for days.

The exposed skin glistening with water under the burning sun, messy wet hair that clung to your forehead. Plump red lips that encased a popsicle, suckling and even poking your tongue out to lick your fingers when the melted treat slowly dribbled down them.

Perhaps you did know, and this was your own way of teasing them for a stunt they pulled a few nights before. Revenge.

That night, when you wore such careless attire, one that consisted of a large shirt that practically engulfed your frame (one that Oliver knew to be Felix's), and the sinful boxers that held your prick just behind the fabric, Oliver took a trip to the laundry room.

Imagine his shock when he found Felix Catton digging through your laundry basket that held the same boxers from the night before.

A solidarity formed between them that night. A relationship deeper than before. Oliver was just as in love with you as Felix was.

But it killed them to see how oblivious you were with their intentions.

Weren't they trying hard enough?

It came to the point where they were desperate enough to consider drugs. Of all things. The family would all have dinner as usual, but a simple slip of an extra ingredient would be placed into your food.

"Are you alright, dear?" Elspeth asked, concerned from the other side of the table.

Felix quickly came to your rescue, standing up and dragging you to your bedroom. "He might be ill, we'll take care of him." He met eyes with Oliver, who didn't hesitate to join his side. "I'll see to it that he recovers smoothly." And without a second thought, they both left to carry you to Felix's bedroom.

You groaned, the pounding in your skull too much to handle. But Felix talked you through it all the way. Legs too weak to get up the stairs? No worries, they've got that covered. Neither complained when they're able to get this close to your warm body.

"Atta boy," Felix praised, slowly lowering you on his bed. Oliver placed the back of his hand to your forehead, wincing at its temperature.

"That's not a side effect, is it?" Their motives were ultimately changed when you kept writhing on the bed, uncomfortable at the heat and ache throughout your body. You felt sick. This was not part of the plan.

Felix scoffed. "Of course not." He turned to you, frowning when you sobbed. "We'll just... change plans."

There was no doubt to it. Your current state was not to their liking to continue their original ideas, and its not like it was helping with their... guilt. Thinking back on it, they've realized that their original plan was rather unsavory.

It made them look like hypocrites.

After all, they've been wanting and needing you to dream of them as well. Countless nights spent under the sheets behind the safety of their doors, jacking off and wishing it was your hole around their cocks, not their fists.

The wet dreams of you being so good for them, taking them all at once— or the times when they peaked through the bathroom door to watch you showering, and purposefully breaking your doorknob so they can barge in your room whilst you were getting dressed, those they could play off.

But to take you, unsolicited whilst your mind was hazy, was against all their fantasies. They wanted you to want them the same way. With the same desperation, the same debauchery.

So they let you be for now.

The late night fantasies that constantly replayed in their head would be enough. For your sake. Because if they allowed the strong, primal urge to pounce and take you as you were; the bed is where you'd live.

But it doesn't mean the urge was gone.

Oh no, it was very much still there.

So when your soft snores reached their ears, they wasted no time to climb under the sheets, with you between their aching bodies. And no matter how hard they tried to shoo away the dark thoughts nagging at the back of their heads, it still found a way to hypontize them.

It was a golden opportunity. You were sick, yes. But you were still drugged. Fast asleep. Deep into dreamland. How could they pass it up?

Oliver bit his lip and maintained eye contact with Felix. What were they to do? Felix stayed in deep contemplation, but was quickly surprised when Oliver made the first move.

He quickly raised your shirt up to your collarbone, breath stuck in his throat when he was met with your nipples. Oliver traced your chest with his finger, featherlight as he felt your soft skin for the first time.

And shit, did it feel great.

Felix on the other hand, took a more bold approach. Kissing at your nape while massaging his hand down your spine, towards your waistband. He tugged at first, but eventually settled on sneaking his palm beneath your boxers to feel the sweet mounds of flesh he's been dreaming of.

They groped and touched, feeling up every inch of you. No nook or cranny was left un-corrupted by their sinful hands. Slowly, their cocks hardened and they threw away all rational thoughts (Though there were none to begin with, really. Did anyone think rationally when they were in your presence?) Beginning to hump and palm at your own crotch.

Your drowsy whines and hums brought them closer to release. Even in your sleep you managed to be oblivious, unknowing to the dirty acts they commit. Hips bucking and stuttering, breath hitching, the creaking of the bed.

Whispered cussing and lip biting, red marks littered across your skin with their harsh grabbing. It was only after they reached their peak had all your breaths labored, you probably just thought it was a really good dream.

Oliver and Felix began to feel their eyelids get heavy. Even if they didn't get what they originally wanted, at least they got a taste of it. And fuck did they want more.

But no matter, there was always next time.

vanillaclaws 2024.ㅤdo not repost.

[y4z1]

Black, Stained White. | MDNI

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Synopsis: You and Bang Chan get into a playful fight when he finds out he isn't your bias, but what unrolls after your fight with Chan is a very not-so-bestfriend like situation.

Warnings: making out, sex, choking-ish, reader is called babygirl (duh, it's chan), fingering, Daddy kink, choking kink, spanking, basically just MDNI

WC: 1.5k

Chan was sitting across you, on the bean bag in the corner of the room, while you were sitting on your bed. His cute dimples and crescent-shaped eyes were staring back at you—cute. You were sharing a hilarious memory of you and Felix's disastrous moment of baking, and how you had accidentally slipped over a banana peel on the floor. His giggles filling the entire room, it was like heaven to your ears. You loved nothing more than hearing Chan happy.

Out of all the people you'd met, you loved Chan the most. You appreciated that he loved you for who you are, unlike others. Throughout your relationship of several years, Chan had always been the one putting a smile on your face. And so, you did the same for him. You really can't recall a single memory where you guys aren't dying of laughter on the floor.

After recollecting yourself and taking a few deep breaths, you finally looked back at him—and bursted out laughing, again. "I'm so sorry, I'm actually so sorry I'll stop"

5 minutes pass and you finally stopped laughing. Chan got up and stretched his arms out, he was wearing a full black outfit. He slipped his beanie off and his orange curly hair poofed out which looked, not to mention, so damn attractive.

He'd dyed his hair plenty of times, but I guess since it's been a while you'd never realized how much you'd craved seeing orange-haired Chan.

His eyes perked up at your and his body facing you. His eyebrows furrowed and head tilted. "Hey, I've never asked you, who's your bias?"

You smiled and blushed at the thought of your bias—or seungmin, specifically. But you couldn't tell him that, what if he tells the other members and then they feel like they're not good enough or just not loved.

"I like all the members", you'd thought you'd gotten away with it but deep down you knew your lies were pretty obvious, and the guilt was plastered on your face.

"Stop lying, I know you have a bias". He was smiling at you again, inching closer by the second. His sexy, deep, Australian accent making your heart beat even faster as if it's not about to already jump out of your body.

You were scared, guilty, and flustered all at the same time. And he could clearly tell. "I won't tell anyone" he said with a warm smile to calm you down a little. And he kept his promises, he really did, he kept all of them in fact.

Without a second thought, you looked at him in the eyes. "It's seungmin...", you fidgeted with your hands. A shocked look on his face, "SEUNGMIN?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE LEE KNOW BIASED", now you were the one with the shocked face. "Lee know?! What makes you think that?!" You replied. He widened his eyes and his signature dimpled smile on his face, "your murderous personality"

You chuckled "wow. Okay but listen, by bias I just mean that seungmin is the one who catches my eye the most. I don't have a real bias because it just changes every 3 days. These days its been you in my mind all day" you covered your mouth and your eyes widened realizing what you'd just said.

He smirked at you, from what you could tell from the corner of your eye. He ruffled your hair, "awwwww that's cute, you love me that much". He was teasing you. In response you smacked his hand away. But, it just made the situation worse, he pushed you onto your back and hovered over you.

It turned into a fight of him trying to get his hands on your body as a way of teasing and you just yanking his hands away, though eventually it stopped when he stared at you with dark, lustful eyes.

His deep brown eyes stared back at you. Everything around you, erased. All you could see was him, and you. His veiny arms were around your head, pinning your body into the mattress.

Your eyes travelled down to his lips. It was as if his lips were pulling you in and you couldn't escape them. They were a soft shade of cherry red, and heart shaped. His bottom lip was tucked under his teeth.

Without even realizing how or when, you were centimeters close. His lips, still bringing you in, until both your lips finally touched and brought each other in for a slow, savory kiss.

He pulled back, getting confirmation that it was okay to go on further. You gave him an approval nod and smile, going in for another kiss. This time a more intimate and longing one.

Eventually, it turned into a full-on make out session. Your hands roaming eachothers body.

You both pulled away from lack of oxygen, and his left hand snaked around your thigh while he brought his lips closer to your inner thigh, gliding his soft lips up and down.

He left one or two hickeys along the process, making sure to mark his territory.

He inched closer and closer, until his face was less than a centimeter away from your heat. In a teasing motion, he lifted his long, slender fingers and traced your folds up and down through your soaked panties.

"so soaked for me, huh babygirl?" He said in a deep, raspy voice, making you even wetter than you already were. He knew the effect he had on you, and he used it to an advantage. He knew every single one of your kinks, every one of your turn-on's.

He eyes were on you the whole time, making sure you were okay with going further.

He teased you over and over again, you were starting to lose patience and he knew that. Nonetheless, you stared at him with doe eyes, knowing that'd drive him crazy.

Your panties to the side in seconds, while he slipped two fingers in, receiving a satisfied moan in return. Three thrusts and he pulled out, smirking at you. You whined and tried other devious tricks on him that you were sure would drive him insane. But damn did he have self control.

There was one trick you hadn't tried though. You'd always known he had a daddy kink, well who didn't—it's literally Chan we're talking about.

You put on a little pout and doe eyes for him, tilting your head. "Please, daddy?" You know that did it for him when he bit his lip and smirked even harder.

An unexpected slap to your ass caught you off guard. You gasped at the stinging pain. "Say it again, babygirl "

"p-please daddy?" A tear making its way down the side of your face.

Though he'd put up a cold persona, he'd made sure to not hurt you in anyway by slowly entering into your heat.

Your walls clenched around him and you wanted more. Patience long forgotten, all you wanted was his massive dick thrusting in and out of you at a godly pace.

And he fulfilled your desires, thrusting in and out of you, right as you adjusted to his length. His left hand wrapped around your neck tightly. You could barely breathe but he knew you so well, he knew it was one of your kinks.

You could feel the similar knot tie itself in your stomach, and within seconds that knot untied itself. You came together at the same time, staining the black sheets white.

He collapsed on top of you, while you ran your hand through his curls. You both laid in bed for a while until you regained your energy to go and shower.

Chan got up first, walking over to the bathtub and turning on the hot water. He made sure the water was the right temperature, and made his way towards you, carrying you bridal style. You giggled to yourself. "What's so funny" he asked with a small smile on his face. "Nothing, don't worry."

He laid you into the bathtub gently. He was walking back towards your bedroom, and damn did bro have a whole bakery back there (bet his back hurts from carrying the whole kpop industry and that humongous a-). Your eyes perked up at him and you asked "you're not getting in?". He stopped and looked back at you, "no, haha you can wash up first"

You got up and took one leg out of the bathtub, reaching for his hand. You pulled him down into the bathtub with you, water splashing everywhere.

He looked at you with wide eyes and an open mouth, "did you just try to drown me?". You giggled and responded, "hey I thought you could swim"

He put on a bland expression, trying to hide that smile that wanted to take over his face "yeah I'm gonna swim in like, half a foot of water"

Whether you were taking a bath, cuddling, or even at work, your bickering never stopped.

A/N: Wrote this at like 2 AM only cuz if I were to continue it later, it would be chilling in my drafts for years.

[milkistay]

getting STRAY KIDS a gift they only mentioned once

pairing. skz x gn!reader

format. headcanons

request. Hii 👋 I was wondering if you could do skz ot8 when you buy them a present they’ve been wanting really bad, but only mentioned it once 🙏 No rush <3

chan

- chan is the MASTER at this - he’s always remembering every single detail about you - so almost every gift he gives you is something you mentioned in passing like 4 months ago - but he always remember - so when you do the same thing back, he melts - he knows firsthand how much love goes into remembering the small things - so he feels very very loved

minho

- i think he’d decide to marry you - his partner cares enough about him to do this?? wedding bells - minho is a quiet affectionate - acts of service 100% always - so doing something like this that’s not a huge deal but carries a lot of meaning - he’d appreciate it a lot

changbin

changbin

- turns him into the biggest mushy lovey dovey person ever - thinks it’s the cutest and sweetest thing in the whole world - so he’s clinging to you for the rest of the week and showering you with affection - he also shows the gift off to every single person ever and won’t stop flexing it - “oh this? oh you know, just something my amazing perfect partner got for me. no big deal, they’re just the best person in the universe and i’m the luckiest guy alive. you WISH your partner could be this extraordinary-” - definitely giggling and kicking his feet whenever he looks at the gift

hyunjin 

- our favorite hopeless romantic - he’s living in a kdrama suddenly - feels very doted on and loves it - cherishes the gift with his whole heart like you have no idea - definitely teared up a bit when he was alone because it was so sweet - just having a reminder that his partner loves him this much makes him feel so warm

jisung

- i feel like it would catch him off guard - like he’d open the gift and be like “can you read my mind oh my god are you telepathic” - “no you literally mentioned it to me” - then he’s extremely touched - sometimes he just rambles and feels like no one listens to him - so the fact that you listen AND remember just makes him feel immensely appreciated - falls in love with you all over again

felix

- finds it so cute honestly - not one to place much worth on material things - so it’s the love behind it that’s so meaningful - you didn’t have to and he’d never expect you to but you DID - very affectionate with you after - committed to using the gift every possible second - like look! i love it! i use it! - might show it off just a tiny itty bit because his ego gets bigger - what do you expect? he has the sweetest partner, of course it’s going to his head - out of love <3

seungmin

- this is right up seungmin’s alley - one way path straight to his heart - shows his thanks by doing the exact same thing for you later - and then the two of you start some back and forth and become the best gift givers in the whole world - he might not be very outwardly appreciative at first - but you know he loves the gift when you see him use it constantly - he likes that it’s a little reminder of you

jeongin

- “that’s not fair” - “???” - you shouldn’t be this good at gift giving” - blushes real hard and gets all shy all of a sudden - twirling his hair being all “omg how did you know” - he’s at the receiving end of affection from the members 24/7 but that doesn’t make him more immune to love at all - no matter what, little acts of love make him giddy - also one to put in 10x more effort into your next gift just to one up you

[manicpixiefelix]

love the hand that feeds you {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

One-Shot for head, heart, hand. but can be read as a stand-alone.

Summary: Everyone's always called you Felix's Dog. Felix has always had a problem with this. You've always wished that he didn't. Oliver's never been much of a cat person anyways.

Need to Know: They/Them. NB!Reader. Oliver's POV. Set after the Summer at Saltburn but with a happy, poly ending. Established Felix/Reader/Oliver. Reader's AGAB/sex is never made explicitly clear so hopefully all of y'all can enjoy.

Warnings: SMUT. Porn with plot. Pet play, obviously. Demeaning language (dog is the main one, obviously), oral, threesome, unprotected sex, d/s dynamics (all three of you go back and forth but there's mostly Dominant!Oliver), teasing, praise kink (and praise kink by proxy), pet names (ha). Felix & Reader being horny puppies who love Oliver Quick (and each other) very much.

A/N: 9494 words. i told my girlfriend about this fic and how long it is and she said 'at that point is it a oneshot or a cry for help' and idk man it's definitely a cry for something 👀

----

It starts because Felix likes having his hair played with.

Actually, it starts the week before with you, drunk and giggling at a house party, playing with the chain Oliver's always wearing with more fascination than usual, when you admit that Venetia once bought you a collar. Of course you provide the caveat that it was more to piss Felix off, which it had, and that it had been thrown into the fire before you ever got to wear it. Oliver, who'd been watching Felix playing beer pong across the room, has to take a moment to process what you'd said.

"Wish she didn't make it all weird," you sighed a little forlornly, and you give the chain a faint tug, "I'm such a good dog, everyone says so," then you huffed a faint, flustered laugh, "not everyone. Not you and Fi, you guys are lovely, but sometimes I am a bit like a dog; I'm okay with that."

In the next moment you're humming along to whatever trashy pop is playing, and Oliver's pretty sure you've already forgotten what you'd just said, but even in his own state of inebriation, he can't.

The next day, on one of the many lawns across Oxford's beautiful campus, Oliver's sitting with Felix's head in his lap, fingers running through his hair as you and Felix are brainstorming gifts for Venetia's upcoming birthday. Felix has his eyes closed, enjoying the warm afternoon and the sensation of Oliver's gentle petting, while you're splayed out on the grass beside them both, focusing on your notebook.

Yes, you've always been a good dog, but you'd been well trained; the more Oliver thinks about it, the more he finds himself also drawing comparisons between Felix and an excitable, affectionate, pampered pup himself. But there was potential there, Oliver could see it clear as day.

So he'd started to come up with a plan. A simple plan, thankfully; knowing you both it wouldn't require anything too complicated, it wouldn't be particularly manipulative. At least not maliciously.

A simple, two step plan to show the impossibly beautiful, rich, loving heirs how much he loved and appreciated them for all their qualities, especially the dog-like ones, in certain circumstances. Really it's not even his idea; Felix's whole family had drawn the comparison with you before it had even really occurred to him. He couldn't be blamed for being intrigued about following it to its logical end, and showing you both it's not the negative it usually comes across as. At least, that's how he phrases it in his mind when he's justifying it to himself.

And if he thinks you and Felix would both look pretty in a collar, well that's just a perk he keeps to himself.

The first step is submission.

All three of you fluctuated between dominance and submission on any given day, an enthusiastic ebb and flow of control amongst the three of you, in every combination imaginable. Except Felix seems unable to fully commit himself to submitting to Oliver alone; oh he plays along without hesitation, will get on his knees for Oliver at the slightest firm tone, but he always seems more thrilled knowing your hand is on his metaphorical leash.

So Oliver takes his time figuring out what exactly will make Felix long for Oliver's hand on his throat. The solution is shockingly simple.

Praise.

It couldn't be just any praise. He'd lived his life hearing sweet words about how good he looks, or how lovely he was, it had to be deeper than that. Praise only you or Oliver could give, praise that he craved to hear, praise for the parts of himself he quietly put effort into.

Praise for being helpful, for being diligent, for being caring and genuinely thoughtful to the two of you, for being good.

"God, you're so good to me, Felix," Oliver groans in the bathroom of a house party, back pressed against the door while Felix was on his knees, Oliver's cock in his mouth. When Oliver looks down, sees Felix with a faint blush on his cheeks that's far sweeter than the rest of the debauchery of their situation, Oliver cards a hand through his hair, giving him a look that radiated just as much love as he felt for the man himself, "always so fuckin' good to me," he murmurs this time.

Felix, now bright red, all kinds of flustered, pulls back for half a second, unable to fight back a smile as he swears under his breath, but Oliver's hand in his hair tightens. Felix eyes flutter closed as Oliver, tone on his voice like a warning, tells Felix that he didn't say stop.

And Felix seems more than delighted to obey, to be as good to Oliver as he'd just been deemed.

Praise like this always made Felix all smitten and obedient and eager to please. Of course Oliver had always been quick to praise Felix, but this was different, was concentrated and specific. Once Oliver had started with these efforts, Felix seemed to grow more relaxed and eager to let Oliver become dominant over him when the mood struck him, even without the specific praise. Though the praise always helped.

The second step is acceptance.

Considering everything that had happened at Saltburn - the voyeuristic games you'd played with Oliver, the adventurous ways and places in which you and Felix would fuck, the handjob you'd given him after you caught him drinking the bath water that Felix had gotten off into that ended with you also managing to come untouched while Oliver moaned Felix's name in your ear, just to name a few - Oliver knew your sex lives would be more than a little kinky before he even officially joined this relationship. He was not disappointed.

Both you and Felix seemed more than willing to try anything, though Oliver was delighted to discover just how much you'd both already done, and were more than eager to do again.

All this to say that pet play was barely a step removed from roleplay, so he shouldn't have been surprised that you jump at the chance. At first it stays between you and Oliver, for obvious reasons that have everything to do with Felix's hangups about the derogatory way other people had often called you a dog. But when Oliver calls you 'pretty pup' for the first time, you react just the same way Felix does when praised.

Flustered. Bashful. Obedient.

Except Oliver quickly learns that you react far stronger than Felix. It seems not only were you telling the truth about being okay with the title, simply hearing it said so lovingly by Oliver, even in the most innocent situations, was enough to turn you on. It was validation you so desperately wanted, craved, your efforts and constant place by their side acknowledged and appreciated. There are times even when you're in control where you demand praise, and the words slip out.

"You're a good dog," Oliver gasps out, your legs over his shoulders, his head between your thighs. A pleased noises rumbles from somewhere in your chest and you laugh low and heady.

"You're fucking lucky to have a dog like me, Oliver Quick," comes out all lazy and confident, but his nose of agreement isn't enough for you, clearly, as your thighs momentarily tighten around him, trapping him, and he feels one of your heels press insistently against his back, "aren't you lucky," you say pointedly, warning in your voice, "to have such a good dog?" Echoing your words in agreement, they come out sounding like a breathless prayer, one he's eager to chant to see the heady, powerful smile you wear when you hear it.

Fuck he feels dizzy with lust in this moment, desperate to devour you, have his mouth on you, like his life depends on it, hoping you'll grant him the chance to fuck you - there's something about you in control that will always drive Oliver utterly mad. Actually, no matter the situation or who's in control, knowing you and Felix continue to want him, love him, choose him to share these moments with... sometimes he still can't believe he got here in the end.

He never thought he'd hear you beg, let alone for him. It's like fucking music.

When he's got you like this, under him, desperate, eager to please, mind a messy haze caught up in this fantasy being played out with you as his perfect pup - so good, so loyal, fuck you're precious, pet - where he can do or say practically anything to you, where you want him to.

"Fuck I love how pathetic you sound, pet," he mumbled into your ear, pressed against you, thrusting slow and deep, "can't even form a proper thought, can you?" He teases. Your hips stutter up into his in an inconsistent rhythm, desperate. Chiding you for it, he sits back, even as a disappointed mewl escapes you. As if moving out of instinct, you reach out, as if to try and pull him back in, and your fingers catch on the chain he still wears around his neck.

"Drop it," he orders immediately, to which you let go as if the metal had burned you. However, Oliver can feel you clench around his cock, hips rolling, pressing close to him, instinctively, "good dog," he purred, pleased, deciding to reward you by finally fucking you with intent.

So it's not you who still has to come to accept this concept. But Oliver's fairly confident you will be the main reason when Felix does come to accept it. In fact, he doesn't even bring the concept up to Felix himself; he knows you well enough that it will only be a matter of time.

It doesn't take long.

One night at the club, all three of you drunk and feeling indulgent under the lights and haze, you hear a resentful -

"Felix really can't go anywhere without his dog -"

You have to hold Felix back from searching for the girl who said it to start shouting at her, assuring him it's fine, but Oliver then has to drag you both of the dancefloor when you start unexpectedly arguing with each other. He actually genuinely can't pick exactly what the argument is about until he's got you both in one of the marginally quieter side rooms, you and Felix still arguing animatedly -

"- shouldn't even be talking about you like that, they don't even know you -" Felix snapped, while you stepped up into his space, having him in the chest.

"When the fuck have I ever cared what anyone but you thinks of me?!"

"I don't think of you as my dog!"

"How many times do I have to say that I don't mind being called your dog before you figure out that maybe I want you to call me that?!" You glare up at him, watching the confusion and mixed emotions about the idea pass over his face in rapid succession, "I'm getting sick of you taking issue with the title, and refusing to understand why I don't; am I not every fucking thing the perfect dog is to you? I am loyal," with each descriptor you gave an instant push against his chest, as if to punctuate each point, "diligent, protective, you know I'd follow you to hell and back, it makes me happy to make you happy, and yes, Felix, just like a dog, I can be obedient," Felix's gaze is shocked as you lay it all out before him. Your voice lowers, Oliver can barely hear you over the music in the next room, "but unlike a dog, I was not trained to love you, to stick by you like I do; that is a choice I made. That is a choice I continue to make happily every single day of my life. Every other asshole who calls me a dog can see it, most of them are fucking jealous because I am the one you choose to keep by your side. Why would I ever take issue with being called that? What do I have to be jealous of? I am the dog, Felix Catton, and I am yours."

It's... reductive, Oliver thinks, but it has to be to get your point across, so he keeps that to himself. He knows all too well how old this sore spot is between you two, far older than his place in your relationship. Perhaps if things hadn't worked out quite so well for him, or if he weren't so secure in his relationship with you both, perhaps he'd worry, be jealous of how you're speaking once more like you and Felix only have each other. But her knows you're not, knows that you're speaking to the version of Felix who can't let go of his discomfort at the title's implications. Part of Felix would always listen to you above all others, even Oliver, but Oliver himself had in part fallen for the way you two loved each other, he lives seeing that connection still strong, bright and alive, and knowing that you've both still chosen to love him too.

Felix, a few feet away, looks suddenly conflicted, almost upset as he tries to process and reconcile your words. However, when Felix can't seem to give a proper reaction, a look of disappointment crosses over your face, and you turn sharply, stalking from the room, from the club entirely.

"It still feels demeaning to them," Felix has been sulking the entire walk back to campus, he and Oliver having left not too long after you. Oliver bites his tongue on the fact that he knows you get off on being demeaned in the right circumstances; Felix is off course aware of this, but not the true extent. Instead, all Oliver offers is a non-committal hum. Felix pouts, still mostly talking to himself, "'s rude," he mumbled, "'s a mean thing to call someone; dog..." Though it sounds almost like a question.

"So you'd be mad if someone called you Y/N's dog?" Oliver says with a surprising amount of casualness considering he has no idea where his boldness came from. Beside him, Felix goes very quiet. Oliver pointedly doesn't look at him.

"That's different," Felix finally managed after several long, strained moments in which he'd thoroughly considered Oliver's words. Except Felix hasn't managed to sound nearly as casual as Oliver, the poor boy sounds rather abashed at the thought, though he still tries to play it off, albeit unsuccessfully, "Ollie, that's- that's completely different."

"How's it different?" Oliver needles him subtly, still giving Felix a modicum of privacy from his ever watchful eyes.

"Because it is," Felix insists, before blurring out - "because it's never happened!"

When Oliver finally looks over at Felix, he keeps his expression just on the positive side of neutral, only to be met with the sight of Felix, wide eyed, and faintly flush. Oliver blinks.

"But you are," he says easily. Felix's lips press into a thin line, face turning steadily darker with his blush as he finally stops walking. Oliver can read the 'the fuck do you mean by that?' all across Felix's flustered, intoxicated features before the man can even open his mouth to ask, so Oliver stops walking too, elaborating without hesitation, "if we're going by Y/N's metrics for what a good dog is, aren't you one too?"

This conversation was completely unexpected for Oliver too, despite how he was the one who pushed it in this direction. Beautiful, expressive Felix is already growing less tense as he turns the thoughts over in his mind. Oliver, eager to help him along on his path to acceptance, reiterates the values you'd laid out in the club -

"Loyal, diligent, protective," he lists easily, "you know you'd follow them anywhere, and do anything to make them happy," he doesn't have to say that Felix can be obedient to you to know they're both thinking it. Instead, Oliver shrugs, "but you're Felix Catton, of course no-ones going to call you a dog."

"What?" Felix's deliberation finally gives way in the face of confusion.

"Everyone knows Y/N loves you, but they don't want to think about you loving Y/N back."

"But I do," Felix's soft voice sounds so hurt by the very idea, "everyone knows I do." Oliver's own expression softens as he steps forward. Felix's brow creases in what can only be described as disappointed confusion.

"I know," he assures smoothly, "that's other people's problem, its not fair on either of you." Oliver's hand is gentle on Felix's shoulder, but Felix is still clearly bothered, even as they start walking again.

"Maybe that's why it bothered you so much," Oliver finally speaks again when they're back on campus. Felix doesn't speak, but does look to Oliver with an expression of clear confusion, "because you didn't like the idea of people thinking Y/N loved you more than you loved them." After a moment, Felix sighs, making a faint, disappointed hum of agreement.

"Did you think that?" Felix asked softly after a moment, "before you really knew us, is that what you thought of us too?" He sounds almost disappointed at the thought. Oliver, however, has to fight back a smile.

"Not even for a fuckin' second," he admits with a sharp laugh, and Felix immediately perks up with intrigue and something almost like relief, though Oliver's tone is amused as he continues, "I honestly couldn't believe no-one else could see it; never seen anyone quite so dedicated to taking care of their dog as Y/N was to looking out for you."

Felix turns bright red once more, but he's wearing that big, bashful grin Oliver's always loved.

"I am, aren't I?" Felix sounds almost giddy at the thought. Oliver feels like there's fireworks going off in his chest.

"Y/N really can't go anywhere without their dog either," Oliver teases, lovingly parroting the words that had been so cruelly overheard at the club. If Felix were any drunker or happier, he probably would have started actually skipping. As it was, however, the two of them approaching Felix's dorm building, he wraps an arm around Oliver's shoulders.

"You know all that stuff they said, all that stuff about being a good dog, you know that's how we feel about you too, Ollie," Felix can clearly tell the minute Oliver's brain short circuits, because he laughs and plants a kiss on Oliver's cheek, "sorry if you're more of a cat person, mate," he teases, as if he hadn't just suddenly rewired something in his boyfriend's brain.

You and Felix. YouAndFelix. Both love him the way a dog loves their owner. It goes beyond even any lewd fantasies he'd had; a year ago he was watching you both through his window, talking and laughing in the afternoon sun, wishing desperately that he could work up the courage to talk to either of you, befriend you.

But you and Felix - YouAndFelix, together, individually, in every single way Oliver can conceive the idea of you - both love him. Our Ollie, the way he's heard spoken so lovingly, sounds so much sweeter than he'd ever even imagined.

"You're both very sweet to me," Oliver hears himself mumble as he and Felix finally find themselves outside of Felix's door. Everything feels like it's spinning, in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol, and everything to do with the way Felix is smiling at him. Instead of answering, though Oliver's sure there's half a dozen teasing or sappy comments trapped in the tip of Felix's tongue, he kisses him instead. Felix always seemed to know exactly when Oliver was overwhelmed with their shared reality, and always took his time to admire that look in Oliver's eyes. Now was no different.

He's always thought Oliver was so strange, so queer, so different from everyone else in his life, and so clearly loved him for it.

Felix finally is the one to break the moment, knocking lightly on the door, knowing you well enough to anticipate where you'd be despite your earlier anger. As if on cue, you sighed heavily on the other side of the door, before inviting them in.

While Felix barely gives you time to react where you're in your pyjamas, sitting in his bed in the lamp light, not even kicking off his shoes before he throws himself into your lap, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pressed his face against your thigh, Oliver hovers by the door.

"Hi, sorry, hi, love you," escapes Felix in a rush. Despite your conflicted expression, the way your hand comes to rest on his head, carding through his hair is automatic. It's an endearing, amusing sight to Oliver, considering the night that had just passed. He knows you're looking at him, questioning gaze searching for some kind of explanation for Felix's change of behaviour, but Oliver lets himself linger a few moments longer on watching Felix's almost childishly clingy behaviour.

He struggles to kick off his shoes for a moment before he finally managed, and hitch a leg up, over both of yours, still in his jeans and jacket but refusing to be anything but wrapped up in you.

"I'm not staying," is what Oliver finally says, despite the gentle affection in his voice. You frown faintly, but still seem more confused than upset, "I think you two need to talk," he explains. Despite the way your mouth flattens into a thin line, you're still gently petting Felix's hair. Still, Oliver steels himself, giving you a strange little smile, "you're a good dog, Y/N," he says pointedly. This seems to surprise you, but not as much as Felix's sitting echo.

"Such a good dog," he agrees with a fond sigh, half muffled against you. Immediately your confusion, your concern drops in favour of sweet, hopeful shock. But Oliver continues before he shuts the door, smile growing into a grin.

"So are you, Felix," and Felix's head shoots up so he can level a bright, sunny smile over his shoulder at Oliver. Christ, Oliver can practically see his tail wagging.

"Love you, Ollie," Felix beams cheerfully. While Oliver echoes the sentiment back at you both as he closes the door, you can't seem to look away from Felix.

Something warm and pleased and satisfied curls itself comfortably in Oliver's chest on the brief walk back to his own room. It goes beyond any selfish, sexual desires he's had, not that there wasn't an element of that, of course, but he can't stop thinking about the joy in Felix's expression, or the way you'd disbelieving smile you'd been wearing when Oliver had closed the door. An old ache beginning to heal.

The change is subtle at first. At least, from the outside.

After that fateful summer, the three of you had made no secret of your relationship. Felix had always been tactile and clingy and prone to shows of affection, you had always made a point to make Oliver feel included and welcome and like you craved his company, while Oliver himself had never made any secret of whose attention and contact he preferred in any group setting. So he's sure, to their friends, the three of you seem to be the same as you've always been.

Farleigh had once scoffed at the pub that the three of you were insufferably gross, and while the rest of the group at the table had agreed, it had been more teasing than malicious; on one side of Oliver, you'd pressed your laughter into his shoulder, while Felix had throw his arm around Oliver and chided Farleigh not to be jealous, wearing a wide, easy smile.

Oliver and Farleigh still may not exactly see eye to eye, but things had gotten easier between them. Across the table, Farleigh met Oliver's bashful gaze and though he'd rolled his eyes, though he seemed exasperated by all three of you, there was warmth in his eyes. He may not love Oliver, but he still loved you and Felix; baby steps.

So all that to say that at first the change is so subtle that even the ever-watchful Farleigh, who knows you and Felix better than any of your other friends, doesn't even notice.

But oh, Oliver feels the change right away.

He honestly thought the three of you weren't able to get closer, but he's never been more thrilled to be wrong. Never afraid or jealous of each other living your own lives, it just seemed that when you're around each other, you weren't interested in being seen as an individual. More possessive in the most affectionate way. Always in some kind of obvious contact, arguably too close for the comfort of others, not that any of you cared. Oliver, always shadowed by his beautiful guard dogs.

"Can I wear this?" You ask casually one evening, drinking cheap vodka and juice as you waited for Oliver to get ready to go out. When Oliver turns, half dressed after a shower, he sees you holding one of the chains he always found himself wearing. He doesn't think twice before agreeing, doesn't even think much of the request at the time. The significance is missed on him until the two of you meet up with Felix in the line for the club and he pulls you by the chain, in for a kiss. You're still holding Oliver's hand, fingers linked with his. Reading Felix's kiss for the compliment it is, you grin sharply as you pull back, stepping up beside him in line.

"Thanks, it's Ollie's."

"I know," Felix snorts a laugh, throwing an arm around you as he gives Oliver himself a sly smile, "you look good too, mate, how're you going?" You squeeze Oliver's hand, leaning into him for a moment with a coy smile. Your free hand is playing with his chain around your throat. Like you know exactly where his mind has suddenly gone.

Oliver already knows how this night will end, and it doesn't disappoint.

Neither he nor Felix can seem to leave you or the chain around your neck well enough alone, and you're clearly love it. You let yourself be lead around, let them lavish you with affection in dark corners, wearing a smile that's all teeth when you meet the surprised, scandalised gazes of those who gawked rather than averted their gaze.

In the back of the taxi on the way to campus, you're impossibly affectionate, like an excited puppy as you try and split your attention to your boyfriends either side of you.

"Settle down, love," Felix takes your hand in his, keeping you momentarily still, even as you pout.

"We'll be home soon," Oliver murmurs quietly, trying to act casual as he looks out the window, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. A faint, impatient whine escapes you, but you acquiesce, leaning your head on Felix's shoulder even as a fond laugh rumbles from his chest.

The cabbie has the radio on in the front, pointedly ignoring the three of you. But the music is loud enough that he doesn't hear the soft, approving way Felix mutters in your ear -

"Good dog."

But Oliver hears, feels the way your thighs momentarily clench together, hears the breathless, needy 'fucking hell, Fi' that escapes you. His grin grows wider.

On the walk back to your room - always cleaner than Felix's, and with a bigger, nicer bed than Oliver's - you're quiet, seemingly focusing very hard on staying that way, even as Oliver and Felix are bantering easily either side of you. Hands to yourself - well, metaphorically, Oliver and Felix are both holding one of your hands, Felix, feeling particularly joyful swings your linked hands in wide arcs between you - you listen diligently, and chime in whenever you felt your input was needed. Oliver thinks you're being incredibly endearing, but once the door is closed and the rest of the world is cut off from the three of you, Felix softly asks if you're okay.

Surprise lights up across your face the minute the question is spoken. It hadn't even occurred to you that Felix wouldn't understand your behaviour in this moment; this is far newer to him than it is to you. But then you look to Oliver, almost like you're afraid that he wouldn't understand either.

But he does, of course.

There's a faint thrill that courses through him realising that for what is perhaps the first time since he'd met you, he can read you better than Felix. That Felix was yet to understand how far from reluctant or uncomfortable you were in that moment.

Felix had told you to settle, called you a good dog when you had. So now you were trying your hardest to remain settled, to remain good. How delightfully obedient you were in these moments, in this headspace.

Oliver finally gave you a warm smile, shrugging off his jacket.

"They're being good is all," he says casually, drawing Felix's confused attention as you broke out into a wide smile at the praise. Again, Oliver has a flash, a mental image of a tail wagging with joy behind you.

"I'm being good, I'm being settled," you reiterated pointedly, standing carefully by the foot of the bed. Once more, however, you've started fussing with the chain around your neck. Felix looks back to you, as if he still can't quite grasp the full scope of what's happening, and laughs lightly.

"You're so fucking cute," he grinned, "love, you didn't have to stay settled all the way back here."

"I didn't?" Your eyes go wide with confusion, and you look again to Oliver, as if for confirmation, "but I..."

Oliver can feel his heart beating in his throat. Oh, right, he's the one who's done this before, he's the one who started this all, at least this version of this dynamic. You aren't Felix's dog in this moment, you are his.

"You did good, pet, don't worry" Oliver assures you, soothing you with a gentle tone as he steps towards you and takes your face in his hands, kissing you on the forehead. Wearing a grateful little smile, you regard him lovingly for a few moments, before he steps away and you turn your focus back to Felix. There's a hungry kind of intrigue in his big, brown eyes now as he takes the scene in with newfound understanding.

"You really are a good dog," Felix marvels approvingly. Your whole face lights up at that, stumbling a few steps forwards, as if you hadn't meant to move but needed to be close to him. Nodding furiously in agreement, your fingers fidget like you're trying desperately not to reach for him. Felix steps towards you, his smile growing wider as he does so, "mine- ours?" He corrects, wrapping his arms around you, and finally your resolve breaks.

"Both," you assure in a rushed breath before you're pulling him in, kissing him frantically, as all the longing you'd held back since you'd been told to settle floods through you. Once fidgeting hands now start frantically tugging at clothing, both yours and his, but Felix is matching your energy entirely. Oliver gets hit in the face with your jacket as it's flung across the room but neither you nor Felix notices. In his enthusiastic haste several of the buttons on your nice, expensive shirt are ripped off, pinging around the room.

Not that Oliver actually minds.

Still in his jeans, he leans his hip against your desk and watches for a few long moments with both a lewd appreciation, and amusement. Perhaps another day, or when it was just the two of you, Felix would invest himself properly in a version of this fantasy where you truly are his dog. Tonight, however, Oliver sees opportunity in the obvious, messy, needy way Felix is pawing at you. An opportunity for his plan to finally be realised, and he's not letting it pass him by.

When you fall back on the bed, Felix braced over you, your hand finding his fly while the two of you still haven't stopped to really breathe, Oliver sticks two fingers in his mouth to let out a sharp whistle.

Immediately there's silence, the attention of both of you having immediately snapped to Oliver. Shaking his head with faux exasperation, Oliver sighs loudly, as if terribly put upon.

"Can't take you two anywhere," he tsked, crossing his arms over his chest, "pair of naughty fuckin' puppies, you can't leave each other alone."

Felix blinks quickly, as if caught of guard by the shift in tension, the dynamic.

"Ollie, what are you -"

"Ollie, don't be mean, Fi's the best dog, take that back!" You chided despite your wide grin.

"Is he now?" Oliver asks archly, smirking at you both. Felix isn't quite looking at him, expression drawn and thoughtful as he processed this change, turned it over in his mind. Slowly, he looks down at you, at your soft, warm smile. A silent conversation between you both, one of many that Oliver will only ever be able to guess at, and you close your eyes as you sit up enough to press your forehead to Felix's.

Felix visibly relaxed, which you must feel judging by the way you grin.

"It's fun, I promise," your whisper, though in the cool, quiet night, Oliver can still hear it clearly.

"But he called me naughty, I can't believe it," Felix whined playfully, causing you to laugh as the two of you sank back down on the bed. Felix tucked himself up beside you, face half hidden where he was pressing his lips to your shoulder to hide his little smile, "you're so mean to me, Ollie." It sounded as though he was pouting, but his eyes betrayed him, nervous and tentative to be adapting and playing along with the bit, but clearly more than a little excited too. There's also something tearing, almost challenging about the way Felix was running his fingertips up and down the side of your chest.

"You are being naughty," Oliver finally pushes off of the desk, sauntering over to the bed, "both of you acting like I didn't exist."

"Can you blame me?" You actually giggled, sounding downright gleeful, "look at who we get to play with!" Felix flushed at that, pressing his bashful smile against your shoulder. Oliver finds himself really quite taken with how you've chosen to adapt to having Felix by your side in this fantasy.

"If I can't blame you," Oliver says with faint notes of faux warning in his voice as he sits by you both on the bed, "are you saying I should blame Felix? Is our new pet a bad influence." You stumble over your words for moment, searching for a denial, but Felix's head shoots up at that, his eyes wide as he props himself up on the bed beside you.

"Hey, I'm a good influence! I'm good!" He insists, the words coming to him so automatically that it seems to startle even him before he properly focuses back on Oliver's fond amusement. Felix grins sheepishly at his own enthusiasm, ducking his head to look instead at you as he reiterated with a soft giggle, "I'm good."

"I think you're very good," there's love on your tongue, in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Then, in the next moment, you wriggle yourself over to rest your head against Oliver's thighs, gazing up at him with a pout, "come on, Ollie, don't be mean," you practically whined, while Felix himself half draped himself across your middle, his head resting on your belly as he turned his full attention and hopeful brown eyes upon your boyfriend. It was far more convincing than Oliver had been expecting, and he actually feels his hard resolve beginning to falter under the combined force of both your longing gazes.

"We're sorry for neglecting you," you add sweetly, expression earnest as your fingers begin to card through Felix's hair. For a moment, Oliver watches the way Felix's eyes fall closed, leaning into the sensation.

"Can we make it up to you?" Despite Felix's soft voice, his smile was already all kinds of pleased and contented, "we're good at that," he insists. God, Oliver knows all too well that you both are; fucking hell, part of him may never believe this isn't a dream. Except he knows his definitely not dreaming when he feels the delicate touch of your free hand on his knee, moving higher - or as high as you're able given the awkward angle your arm is at.

"Play with us, let us make it up to you," giving Oliver thigh a squeeze you grinned up at him. Without giving him a moment to respond, however, you made a tsk noise in the back of your throat, "you're so overdressed. Fi -" you tap Felix's head gently to get his attention once more, and Felix's eyes open, alight and at attention, "he's so overdressed, don't you think?" Immediately Felix is sitting up, agreeing.

"Think we should help him with that," Felix says frankly, wearing a pleased little grin like he's excited to be helpful. All over-eager and enthusiastic, both you and Felix are suddenly all over Oliver, working together to get him out of his jeans before he can even wonder where he'd lost control of the situation.

Playfully victorious, you're peppering Oliver's face with excited kisses as Felix is kneeling by the bed, tugging the now free jeans down his thighs. Despite the chaos of it all, Oliver's laughing loud and bright, trying his best to get his arms around you to still some of the kinetic love you're showering him with.

"Come on, Ollie," Felix, however, gets caught up halfway through his own job, and presses a kiss to his knee, hands coming to rest, flat and warm on Oliver's thighs, "how'd you expect to get off with those on?" But he sounds so light and joyful; Oliver's heart is fucking singing in this moment.

"Oi, sit," Oliver tries to order between his own laughter and your lips on his every few moments. It takes him another second to claw back some of his composure, "both of you, sit," at least this time you both listen, despite him still radiating breathless amusement.

Felix looks to you for a moment, watches the way you settle yourself, cross-legged and hands in your lap as you fought back a smile, and sits back on his heels, wearing a sheepish grin of his own as he looks back to Oliver. Oliver has to take a moment to compose himself, barely restraining his own laughter, before he kick his pants off from around his ankles. Felix takes the opportunity to then lean in and rest his chin on Oliver's knee, wide, affectionate grin on his face that Oliver practically melts at. He can't help himself -

"Who's a good boy?" He teases Felix, reaching over to scratch at Felix's scalp lightly. Again, Felix eyes close at his nose scrunches with a strange little smile.

"If it's not me I'm actually going to be so upset," he mutters, sounding almost embarrassed by the thought. It takes a moment for his words to sink, and he followed it with a snort of amusement, before all three of you are laughing in the warm privacy of your bedroom, and this moment.

"Of course it's you," Oliver reassures him, coaxing him up onto the bed, shifting to sit back against the headboard with room for you both on either side. Felix looks far less embarrassed and far more pleased now, leaning in when Oliver coaxes him in for a kiss, "my helpful, good boy," Oliver murmurs against his lips, and Felix lets out a breathless, pleased noise as he wraps an arm around Oliver's neck, kissing him back almost desperately. Oliver would always love how Felix was so wonderfully consistent when it came to his praise kink.

Beside him, he can feel you shift on the bed, and in the next moment, your hand is on his thigh. When he and Felix both look to you, breaking their focus on one another, you've settled yourself by Oliver's thighs. Leaning in, you gently nudge at his cock where it's staining against the material of his boxers with your nose, before proceeding to kiss softly up his shaft through the material. Sing when you reach the head, you sit back a little, giving pause as two of your fingers hooked into the elastic of his waistband. Finally met his gaze, looking up at him through your lashes expectantly, want in your eyes that has Oliver's already quick heartrate thundering in his chest.

"Thought I told you to sit," he says wryly. You wet your lips, hips shifting a little.

"I am sitting," you pointed out, which set Felix off, had him pressing his amused chuckle against Oliver's shoulder. You did, however, remain obediently still. Except for the challenging smile that graced your lips, "wanted to make up for ignoring you."

Felix's laughter, however, had died down at that, and the hand that had been around Oliver was now trailing feather-light down his bare chest, past your own, to wrap around Oliver's aching hard cock, still trapped behind a thin layer of cotton.

"Just gotta say the word," Felix murmurs into his ear. His hand begins to slowly work up and down Oliver's cock. Oliver watches you lean down and press a kiss to the soft skin of his belly, by his hip, just above his waistband, while Felix was pressing languid kisses along his jaw.

"Both so good to me," Oliver groaned, gently pushing at Felix's shoulder, though he takes the hint and joins you by Oliver's thighs.

A moment passes between you both, Felix taking your face in his free hand and pulling you in for an intense kiss that only somehow manages to make Oliver even more painfully turned on than he already was. Both still half dressed, you're both practically overflowing with love for each other and Oliver in this moment. The kiss breaks and youre both grinning foreheads pressed together; Oliver's never been truly able to read the exact things that pass between you in these moments of silent communication, but he thinks he sees 'see, I told you this was fun' in the way you smile.

And as much as he adores this moment, he's pretty sure if someone doesn't actually touch his dick soon he's going to die.

"'s there a reason you're keeping me waiting?" Oliver asks archly; Felix's grin grows wider, while you give him a faintly guilty smile, apologising softly before you pull down his boxers. Finally.

Oliver's hips buck the second your fingers wrap around him, leaning down with intent to -

"Hey!" Felix almost sounds indignant that you'd taken his place, a thought which sends a thrill through Oliver. You look up at this, but the minute you're distracted Felix has bent down to run his tongue along the head of Oliver's cock, tasting the precum beading there before he's taking Oliver into his mouth.

"Fi, that's cheating!" You whined, pouting with your free hand braced against Oliver's thigh - "Ollie, Fi's cheating!" You pouted, to which Felix raised his head to defend himself, gleefully and entirely submersed in this roleplay.

"I'm not cheating," he tried to declare, however you dipped down in an attempt to usurp him. Felix, seemingly anticipating this, refuses to move, instead letting you headbutt him, the two of you in a playful stalemate while you attempted to keep up a consistent rhythm with your hand still on Oliver's cock. Tension, with neither of you backing down, breaks only when one of you - though Oliver's genuinely not sure which - seems to realise the reality of the situation, and how close you both are, and suddenly you're aggressively making out.

Not in Oliver's wildest dreams would he ever have imagined that he could have the two of you fighting over who gets the privilege of going down on him. It's going to take all of his willpower if he wants to last much longer. But he needs to last at least a bit longer, needs to take back control, to make sure this plays out well for both of you too.

So Oliver calls your name, and you and Felix break apart. Your eyes are on Oliver, wide eyed and breathing hard.

"No fighting," he chided, and you wet your lips, sitting back a little as Felix takes this as his victory. Oliver coaxes you up to him, part of him sad to lose the feeling of your talented fingers around him, but Felix is more than capable, and more than makes up for it. Oliver wraps an arm around you, his free hand guiding one of yours to Felix's head as it bobbed up and down between Oliver's thighs, "you're going to help him, you can do that, can't you?" His words are gentle, commanding, and even as you still seem to be playing at sulking, you give a small nod. Felix groans appreciatively as your grip tightens on his hair, which Oliver echoes as he feels it himself.

You're beginning to squirm. Good. He's been utterly thrilled by how tonight has been playing out, but Oliver always enjoys when you finally fall into being desperately obedient. He wants to show Felix how good of a dog you really are.

Oliver pulls you in closer, nose to nose, smirking as the playful fight in you was giving way quickly to pure desire.

"Our good boy, isn't he? Our Felix," Oliver's voice is loud enough for you both to hear; Felix moans around his cock, shifting to get a better angle, to take Oliver deeper, as deep as he can. Your breath catches, pupils blown wide. There was something truly, almost sickeningly fascinating about what he could only describe as your Praise-Kink-By-Proxy; you clearly got off to the way Oliver lusted over Felix, that much was made clear that night in the bathtub at Saltburn, and Oliver could see it in your eyes again now.

"Our Felix," you'd mumbled breathlessly, casting your gaze to him as Oliver lazily trialled kisses down your jaw and throat. Felix doesn't stop, your hand on his head still making sure he keeps a consistent rhythm, but he does look up, does meet your lust-filled gaze, does see how your hips and thigh are shifting. Oliver brings your gaze back to him by tugging at his chain around your throat, and it's all you need to kiss him. He doesn't let it go. Sloppy and passionate, he moans Felix's name into your mouth and you whimper desperately at the sound. His hips are rolling, matching Felix's rhythm as his cockhead presses insistently against the back of his throat, and you're panting and whining and unable to find any real relief -

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" Oliver murmured sharply the minute he feels you reaching for the waistband of your own pants with your free hand. You whimpered, and his grip on the chain around your neck grows tighter. Squeezing your eyes closed as you shook your head, traitorous hand moving to dig your fingernails into your thigh, "are you going to settle down for me?" He whispered, lips brushing yours as you squirmed helplessly.

"This is unfair," you moaned, and Oliver's grip around you grew tighter, "Ollie, please -"

"You fucking love when I'm unfair to you," he hissed with an almost cruel smugness as you gasped, hips beginning to roll and rutt against nothing.

"Ollie, don't be mean," Felix raised his head, hand going still on Oliver's desperately twitching cock, an actual note of warning in his voice. Oliver smirks at him, all lazy, arrogant confidence. He maneuvers you, pulls you back from him to let Felix properly see the way your lip is beginning to tremble with how desperate you were for satisfaction or even just a hint of relief. Still, you tried to press yourself against him, even as your back arched wantonly and your thighs pressed together, shifting in search of friction that was still upsetting absent from where you desired it most.

"You think I'm being too mean right now?" Oliver whispered in your ear; unfortunately for you, Oliver knows all too well how much you love this game. After a moment of hesitation, your gaze locked with Felix's. It's as if you're embarrassed to be seen in this state, the way you'd so willingly let Oliver drive you mad with desire. Averting your gaze from Felix's, you swallow hard.

"No," the single word comes out as a sulky kind of whimper.

"And why's that?" Oliver prompted, adding slyly, "you made Felix worry." He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

"He's -" you tired your head back with a desperate groan as Oliver raked the nails of his free hand up your side, "he's always good to me in the end." You pouted, clearly still thinking it was unfair being denied in the moment.

"You promise?" Felix asks firmly, looking Oliver in the eyes now.

"Promise," Oliver smirks back, whispering against your skin that if you're a good for him, he'll let Felix play with you. The desperate noise that escapes you is incredibly telling, and one Oliver knows all too well as the indication that you were on the edge of being incoherent. Good, he loves getting you to this point, and loves even more the way Felix is looking at you right now.

"You're doing so well, Felix, don't keep them waiting," Oliver insisted. At that you reached out once more, hand coming to rest on Felix's head, petting him gently before he allowed you to guide him back down to Oliver's spit-slicked and waiting cock. Oliver's grip on the chain shifts, the metal loose between his fingers as he carefully, delicately, wraps his hand around your throat. Your pleading expression is so deliciously needy when Oliver pulls you back in against him.

"Good dog," he presses the praise against your trembling lips.

It's like a beautiful symphony, better than any wet dream or fantasy he'd ever had, and he hadn't even fucked either of you yet. He moans Felix's name into your mouth when he finally comes undone, his hand resting on yours atop Felix's hair as he takes it all and swallows every last drop.

"So fucking good, Felix," Oliver's breathing hard as he comes down from the euphoric high he'd just experienced, scratching gently at Felix's scalp as he raised his head, pleased grin on his face. When Felix sits up, out of both of your grips, your hand immediately goes between your thighs, desperate to touch yourself but still fighting the urge, trapping it while still making your intent obvious.

But while Oliver is more than satisfied, you, tucked up against him, are all but a mess as he cradled you close.

"Come on, Ollie," Felix climbs over his legs to be by your side. His smile is warm and fond, and when Felix's hand comes to rest on your hip, your soft, whining noises become more audible, "the poor thing deserves a treat."

Oliver feels the way you shiver and tense with anticipation at Felix's words, nose then bumping insistently against Oliver's jaw, keening noises catching in your throat. You were begging in the only way you have left, now that you'd found yourself deep enough in this headspace.

"Look at him," Oliver murmured, sounding almost proud as you turned your desperate, hopeful gaze upon Felix, "he's even being good to you."

Taking it as a blessing, you're immediately scrambling to your knees by Felix, no longer whining, and clearly overjoyed. One hand pulling him in for a kiss, your other was frantically trying to remove your pants.

"Not ignoring you," Felix insisted to Oliver as you'd broken the kiss if only to pitch yourself back on the bed in an effort to wriggle desperately out of your pants, "just -"

"Settle down," Oliver ordered suddenly, and you suddenly went still, ceasing the way you'd been fighting with your pants around your ankles, "help them, Felix," she sighs with fond exasperation. Of course Felix does, but it's like a switch has flipped; he's back on board, a good dog still, just like you. Once your pants are off, Felix is trailing kisses up your legs, much to your clear glee -

"You puppies are so stupid," Oliver shakes his head, affection in his words, "you're lucky you're cute," but still both of you turn to him with a a sad kind of confusion. Oliver tries not to laugh, he really tries, you're both somehow hot and adorable at the same time, "Felix, you're still wearing pants."

Somehow, this seems to surprise both of you, and again you're up 'I can help, I can help, I can help' radiating enthusiastically from you as you make quick work of finally undoing Felix's fly, as you'd attempted to earlier in the evening. The two of you share soft giggles as Felix's hard cock is freed and his pants are tossed to the side, leaving him standing on the floor at the edge of the bed where you're up on your knees, looking up at him. Like this, he still manages to dwarf you, and Oliver watches with an aroused fascination as this moment plays out.

Felix doesn't speak, it's as if he's matching your energy, understanding your headspace, he's confident and even cocky in a way that Oliver doesn't often see from him. He remembers saying 'if you're good, I'll let Felix play with you' and it seemed some primative part of Felix's mind has taken that to heart as he held tight to the chain around your throat, leaning in with an unmistakable huger in his eyes. It has you practically melting, hands on his hips, not daring to stray further without his approval. He doesn't even kiss you, he holds you at bay with his lips inches from yours and a hand firm on your collar, drinking in your desperation. You begin to whimper again, shifting your weight back and forth, hips rocking in anticipation; Oliver's sure he'll be able to see the marks your nails leave on Felix's hips when you finally let go.

Another silent conversation between you both, but so clear, so loud, so simple Oliver can hear it loud and clear. Felix is telling you, in no uncertain terms, that in this moment you are his, and every part of you agrees. Yet Oliver knows with a smug, self satisfaction, that he with one word you would both be by his side. So he'll let you both have this.

A year ago, he would have paid his entire life savings and then some to get to see you two in a moment like this. Already, he's getting hard again; a familiar, voyeuristic thrill runs through him as he drinks you both in, taking his cock in hand.

Felix barely has to tip his head, letting go of your necklace, before you're moving quickly, a moment vague and indecipherable to anyone else is a clear directive for you to turn. It's a flurry of movement after that, of Felix's hands on you, on your hips to pull you close, your lower back to have you bending, face pressed to the mattress. Your ass in the air, presented to him perfectly, he slides into you, drawing unholy noises from you both after so long spent waiting already that night.

Oliver basks in this moment, can only imagine how good you must feel right now, all tight and warm and completely and utterly desperate to be filled. Felix's groan is its own kind of beautiful, finally finding his voice again as absolutely filthy praise spills from his lips. Hips rocking back to meet each of Felix's slow, deep thrusts, your breathing is shaky amid the low, pleased noises that escape you. Beautiful, a creature of mindless want and desire, you've got one shaking hand between your thighs as the other reaches out, searching blindly for Oliver.

Face pressed into the plush duvet, you link your fingers with Oliver's the moment he reaches out to you. Your grip is tight, and he runs his thumbs in comforting rhythms against your hands, something pleased, loving, and so fucking turned on as Felix was quickly coming to fuck you like an absolute animal. The way you so desperately craved.

"Perfect," Felix moaned, "god you're so fucking perfect for us, pet, aren't you?" Nodding weakly, as much as your able, you clutch at Oliver's hand; his teasing had clearly already worked you up, brought you close. Both of you.

"Our good dog," Oliver murmurs, just to hear you whimper.

Fuck, he can't wait to watch you come undone.

Can't wait to make you both sit, roll over, beg.

[jaehyunsprincesspeach]

Hi! First of all i just wanted to say that i really love your writing style and your works❤️, i always have such a warm feeling inside me when i am reading your works😊 and second i apologize for any mistake cuz English is not my first language and you can ignore this ask.

I was wondering if you could do skz reaction to their idol!crush who is very respected in the industry that never ever does tiktok challenges with any other idols (aside from their members if they are not a soloist) wanting and asking to specifically do idk the s class challenge (i can't think of anything else🥲) with the members.

thank you so much, i'm so happy you enjoy my works !!

sorry this took me so long, but i hope you are doing well !!

all the love ~ lunar

SKZ React to Idol S/O Asking to do a Tiktok Challenge With Them

Chan

Chan knows that you only do Tiktok challenges with your group, so when you ask if you can record the two of you doing their S-Class challenge, he can't hide the shock he has. of course, he is more than willing to do the challenge with you, and honestly he has been wanting to since the challenge was released, but he never thought you would come to him asking, he thought he would have to ask you. when it finally settles in his head, he calmly brings you into the most comforting hug and says "i thought you'd never ask, lets go now!" he's calm, but there's no doubt he's excited to do a challenge with you!

Lee Know

Like Chan, he would be a little shocked that you are asking someone outside of your group to do a challenge with you, but honestly, he's not all that phased. if anything, he's happy that he gets to be the first person outside of your group to record a challenge with you. he knows that it could start dating rumors, but he really doesn't care, he's just happy that you asked him of all people, yet he still wont show how excited he truly is (spoiler, his heart is running in circles around his chest)

Changbin

the excitement this man has omg, you'll have to wait a good 10 minutes for him to calm down before he gives you a verbal answer. he would say something like "no way, my baby wants to do a challenge with me? how could i ever say no? hahaha all the other guys suck, im the first person outside of her group who gets to do a challenge with her!" he is like a child in a candy store, and when he calms down, he makes sure to tell you how special this is to him, knowing that you only ever do challenges with your group. pulls you into the tightest hug, and takes you to the studio (secretly the two of you record more challenges, but only post S-Class)

Hyunjin

thinks absolutely nothing of it, until he remembers that you only ever do challenges with your group, and he would have this realization right in the middle of recording it. like he would stop everything and just stare at you, mid recording, and would have to start all over again. once he does remember, omg he is so over the top happy. picks you up and spins you around telling you how honored he feels to be the first person you are doing a challenge with outside of your group, and tells you how happy you make him. once he finally gets it out, the two of you can finally record the challenge together.

Han

his brain straight stops functioning for a few minutes. the second you ask if the two of you can do the S-Class challenge, he's thinking about all of the conversations where you have told him you only do challenges with your group, or thinking about the potential dating scandal that could come from this, even thinking about the possibility that he messes up his own dance and embarrasses himself... once he comes back to reality, he acts all confident and unfazed, though he's really freaking out on the inside, but he is more than willing to join you, and is really happy that you asked him over anyone else!

Felix

sweet baby angel has no hesitation saying yes to you, like he does with everything else. he would ask if you're sure about recording a challenge with him, knowing that you only do challenges with you group, but once he knows you're all in, he's all in with you. he simply can't say no to you, but if it was something you are not comfortable with, he wouldn't do it. smiling the entire time, cause he finally gets to do a challenge with his baby, and he's over the moon happy that he is the only other person you have ever done a challenge with.

Seungmin

completely unfazed. he knows that you only do challenges with your group, but the fact that you are asking him means that you are okay with it, so he's not going to think too much about it. after recording, he would make sure that this was on your terms, rather than having someone tell you that you have to do this, but once he finds out it was your idea, again he's unfazed (secretly has butterflies fluttering throughout his entire body, but nobody gets to know that...)

I.N

I.N is another one who would be unfazed, though he might ask more questions before recording. he knows you are strong and that you wouldn't do anything that you are not comfortable with, so he will check before hand and make sure it is something you are okay with. after, he shows a little bit of excitement, knowing that he is literally the only person you have done a challenge with outside of your group. feels an overwhelming warmth in his heart for you, and makes sure you know how happy this made him, without showing too much PDA of course.

[moonjxsung]

Not Allowed (pt. 2)

TV GIRL / NOT ALLOWED

Link to part 1 here

⇢ Pairing: Lee Felix x fem reader

⇢ Summary: You and Felix are childhood friends turned fwb, with no strings attached. Felix leaves to pursue his idol dreams, and you begin your life as a college student. When he comes back to visit your town, he’s drawn to you again- but you’re both leading very different lives.

⇢ Warning: smut lol

⇢ W/c: 20k? idk

⇢ A/n: inspired by the TV Girl song “not allowed” <3 this has a lot of smut bc the whole song is abt sex so if ur uncomfortable with that, please don’t interact! 

// MINORS DNI // DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST MY WORK

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are 18+. the actions and story represented in this work do not represent Stray Kids in any way; everything described is purely a work of fiction!

You felt your heart drop in your chest. The conversation was not going to be free of hostility. Unsure of how to answer, you locked eyes with him, letting your expression soften into one of remorse. 

“I like it. The blonde.”

He gave a small nod. “Thank you.”

You looked around nervously, debating whether you should just get up and leave. He wasn’t going to give up without a confrontation or an apology, both of which were off the table for you. 

“I’m gonna go order,” he said, smoothing down his top as he stood up. “Americano?”

You nodded, studying the pattern of the table below you. “Yeah, thanks.”

As he walked down the stairs to the counter, you replayed your thoughts in your head. This was going to be a colossal waste of time if you didn’t drop the cool girl act and just communicate with him like a normal human being. Not even your arguments with Mark were like this, so why were you so averse to doing the right thing? After all, it’s not like you were going to stay at your parents’ place for longer than a week. All of this would be out of sight and out of mind in due time, and you were determined to make it end on a positive note. 

When Felix returned, he held two iced americanos in either hand, clutching a small paper bag of croissants in the crook of his elbow. 

“Thank you,” you said as he carefully set yours in front of you. The rich, warm scent of both calmed your nerves a little as you took a sip of your coffee and nibbled a bite of the pastry.

Felix sat back in his chair and rested a slender hand on his cheek as he looked at you. 

“What?” you asked, worried you’d gotten something on your face. 

He shook his head. “Just looking.”

“You’re staring,” you replied, a bashful smile growing on your face for the first time all morning. 

“I can’t stare?” He inquired. 

“I guess you can if you want to. It’s just a little odd, is all.”

He cocked his head slightly. “I’m catching up on five years of changes. I promise I’m almost done.”

“Okay, okay. I digress.” you said, taking another sip of coffee and staring back at him. 

Felix’s hair was much longer than it was all those years ago, reaching just below the nape of his neck. His face was also much slimmer, and he looked rather intimidating with his carved-out jawline and hollowed cheeks. But his eyes were still soft, his button nose still a focal point of his beauty, and his lips even plumper and more pink than you’d remembered. 

“You look good,” Felix said in a voice barely above a whisper. 

You felt the heat rushing to your cheeks, suddenly more aware of your own appearance, and smiled politely in response. 

“Thanks. You look good, too.”

Felix took a sip of his coffee, and then his face turned serious again. 

“You… never called.”

You furrowed your brows at him, surprised at how quickly the conversation had changed pace. 

“I tried you a couple times. Never heard back.”

You did your best to remain calm, feeling angry at the audacity he had to accuse you of being the one to cut him off. He’d been the one with a time change, phone restrictions, and a whole new life to adjust to. As far as you were concerned, he’d transformed into a completely different person- whether he wanted you to remain in his life was up to him entirely. 

“You did? When?”

You shook your head with a dismissive smile. 

“When? I don’t know- some time and date five years ago?”

“You didn’t try again after that?”

At this point, you could feel yourself getting pissed off. 

“Why would I? I’m not even one to double text- what makes you think I should’ve tried for five years straight? I have a life too, you know.”

He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing down the longer bits and tucking them behind his ears once again. 

“I guess… I just thought we ended on a different note than we actually did.”

You cocked your head. “And what note was that?”

He exhaled sharply through his nose. “I don’t know, every day for a whole summer it’s like you can’t get enough of me and now you want to pretend I don’t exist?”

You scoffed at the absurdity of his words, although he had a point. 

“So I was supposed to keep trying your cell for five years straight because of some fleeting thing that happened half a decade ago? And where were you in all of this? You had a phone, too.”

“I told you it’d be some time after my trainee period. When I didn’t hear from you, I figured you just didn’t care to talk.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing again. “Jesus Christ. Was I supposed to be sending an owl every week? Sorry I didn’t get the memo.”

“I didn’t know you needed a memo to remember who I was.”

“I know who you are!”

“Then why are you acting like it never happened?”

You sat back in your chair, angry thoughts racing around your mind. 

“Because!” You exclaimed, trying to compose yourself as you finally let your thoughts out. 

“Because what we had wasn’t supposed to ruin our friendship!  You left to be some mega-rich celebrity and I had to work my ass off to make a life for myself, only to never hear from you again. And now you’re back and I don’t know what it is that you want from me, but if it’s the same thing you wanted all those years ago then you can forget this little meeting ever happened. I’m not some side piece you have when you’re not filming commercials or singing on stage. Believe it or not, I have a life outside of whatever the hell this is.”

He shook his head in disbelief, and a silence washed over both of you. You glanced around the floor, hoping nobody heard any of that. The other diners seemed to be wrapped up in their own conversations, and you felt a minuscule sense of relief. 

“I can’t believe you think that’s why I came back. Even back then.”

You stayed quiet, feeling defensive and irate. 

“We never should’ve done it in the first place,” you said, lowering your head. 

He swallowed a lump in his throat. 

“You really feel like that?” Felix asked. 

You gave a small nod, holding back frustrated tears. 

“Yeah, I do. I wouldn’t have to spend my adult life running from such a stupid mistake.”

Felix’s lips pulled into that same thin-lipped expression of hurt, and he raised his eyebrows.

“Okay. If that’s how you feel.”

Without another word, he pushed out his chair behind him, and gathered the mostly-full drink and crumbs of his unfinished croissant. 

You remained seated at the table as he gave you a small bow and made his way to the stairs. And then he was out of sight, for the fourth time that week. 

*

You probably cried for hours that night. It was getting old fast, this torturous act of hurting Felix and then feeling guilty for hours on end. But you couldn’t help the way you felt about the whole situation. 

You’d seen the interviews, watched the way he filmed alongside beautiful Korean women and traveled the world to perform in front of thousands of pretty girls. He had the world at his fingertips, and yet he used the brief moment of time you slept with him as a weapon against you- as if he hadn't moved on several times before all this. Moved on to a new place, a new life- probably even several other women.

When you’d finally begun to doze off to sleep, after hours of battling a pounding headache, a startling noise woke you up again. 

Three brisk knocks on your window- just like they’d always occurred.

Your heartbeat quickened, and you looked at the clock while still adjusting to the atmosphere around you. It was just past midnight. You crawled out of the comfort of your bed, fixing your hair briefly and pulling up the blinds to get a good look. 

Felix stood against the dark night sky, casually dressed in a light gray hoodie and track pants. His hands were shoved in his pockets, head hung in deep remorse. 

When you opened the window and looked at him, his glossy eyes suggested he’d been crying too. 

“Hi,” Felix said quietly. “Can I come in?”

You complied, stepping aside as he hoisted a leg over the sill and climbed into the small space of your room. It felt like old times, only this time it was tainted by tension and your caution so as to not overstep boundaries. 

You sat on the edge of your bed, and Felix found a seat on the desk chair across from you. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I was angry. And I let my emotions get the best of me.”

You chewed on the inside of your lip, an anxious habit that made itself known whenever you had to tear your own walls down. 

“I reached out because I cared about you,” he continued. “Five years ago. And I still do. I had zero intention of sleeping with you. It just happened. And it’s not going to happen again. I never would’ve just used you for sex. Part of me wants to think that you know that, too.”

You began to cry even again, wiping tears with the back of your hand. You knew he was right, and you didn’t actually believe that. His intentions had just gotten blurry with him being so far away. 

“Hey…” he said, finding his way next to you and wrapping you in a warm hug. “I’m really sorry I hurt you. I was just being selfish.”

You gasped through tears at his words. “I could never forget you,” you blurted out, almost pleading for him to unlearn whatever you’d made him think before. “And I don’t think you used me for sex. It’s just… overwhelming having you back. I don’t think you realize how fucking hard it was for me when you left.”

Felix wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “You don’t think it was hard for me, either? I wanted to tell you so much. I wanted to call you up every chance that I got, but I couldn’t. And then when I didn’t hear from you I thought… I thought maybe I just cared more than you did.”

You shook your head. “I cared, too. Don’t ever think I didn’t care.”

Felix nodded, a kind of light in his eyes at your admittance.

“Can I stay for a bit?” Felix asked, hoping he wasn’t overstepping his boundaries by inquiring. “Nothing weird, I’ll even stay on the floor. I just want to catch up. As friends.”

It was your turn to nod, sitting back against the headboard and pulling your blanket up to your waist. He sat cross legged facing you, both of your gazes meeting each other with curious smiles. And for a small moment in time, you were those careless kids all over again. 

*

You don’t remember Felix leaving, but he did. You also weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep. Beams of sunlight shining over your eyelids woke you up, and your room was quiet and vacant except for a small note on the desk. 

Y/n,

Had to leave for a family thing. See you later tonight?

PS- you still snore 

-Felix

You chuckled lightly at the note, remembering the way he’d teased you about that back then. 

You’d thought it to be a dream for a second, gripping the note firmly in your hands to remind you it was in fact, real. Felix had been here last night, and you finally didn’t want to cry at the thought of seeing him again. In fact, it excited you.

At breakfast, you thought over the conversations you had last night. Felix told you about his trainee days, long ones spent studying Korean and practicing dances in small, crowded rooms. He recounted the shows he was on, expressing the premature grief he’d felt at almost getting  completely eliminated. He told you about the members, eyes filling with joy as he described them in great detail and summarized their seven starkly different personalities. 

He told you about how much he’d missed his sisters, how long plane rides finally didn’t make him nauseous anymore, and how he felt much more natural being blonde.

And about how he thought of you every time he stopped at a McDonald’s. He also still used his raspberry chapstick, on his third tube now. And he missed you. 

“I never forgot about you. Not once,” he said honestly. “I stopped getting Oreo mcflurries because they tasted so much like you. It was a flavor I wanted to preserve in that little time and space. I feared I’d… lose it.”

You bit back a smile from across the bed. He always had a way with his words, but hearing the details of your relationship with him so eloquently relayed back to you made your head spin. 

“We’ll I’m sorry for ruining your favorite McDonald’s order,” you’d said back to him in a joking tone. You didn’t want to give him the wrong idea by entertaining the narrative too much. You kept it platonic.

After all, you still had Mark waiting for you back at home. As your mind snapped back to Mark, your eyes shifted around the room in a panic. It’d been days since you heard from him, and he never answered your last text. In a sudden panic, you reached for your phone and began to dial him, before hanging up and thinking it over. You desperately needed a new set of clothes, and it wouldn’t hurt to check on the apartment. 

So after a quick shower and some breakfast, you grabbed your keys and started off toward the apartment again. Not quite ready to return to the place of tedious routine. 

*

As you unlocked the door, an overpowering scent filled the room, making you scrunch your nose in displeasure. 

“Mark?” you called out, scanning the room for him. 

The kitchen was a mess, dishes piled high in the sink with remnants of previous meals all over them. The table was sprawled with unopened mail and- beer bottles. You knew instantly. 

“Mark?” you called again, growing angry at the state of the apartment. 

As you made your way into the living room, you finally saw him. Sprawled on the couch, a beer bottle clutched in his hand as a loud game of baseball echoed from the tv. 

“Mark? Why is the place so messy?”

He said nothing in response, fixated on the screen in front of him, bringing the bottle to his lips to take another swig of beer. 

“Mark?” you said again. 

“Jesus- stop saying my name like that, I have a headache.”

Your heart dropped at his tone. 

“Yeah, because it’s not even noon yet and you’re already piss drunk. What’s going on?”

He waved a hand to dismiss the conversation. 

“No, none of that,” you said. “Tell me what’s going on with you.”

He kept his eyes glued to the game, the commentator’s words drowning out his slurred reply. 

“I dunno. Have the place to myself considering my girlfriend left me. Just wanted a beer.”

“Left you?” you said in sheer disbelief. “I’m staying with my parents for a weekend and you think I left you?”

He shrugged. “You left me a while ago. You never want to sleep together anymore. We’re hardly even in the same bed, and when we are, you don’t tell me anything. You don’t visit me at work anymore. We haven’t gone on a proper date in forever. You’re always… gone. Even when you’re here, it’s like you’re not really here.”

It was the first time he sounded sober so far. Your heartbeat quickened with anxiety, as you weren’t prepared to be put on the spot like this.

You took a seat beside him timidly, folding your hands in your lap. 

“Is that what this is about?”

 “That’s what this has always been about!” he shouted, and you jumped in your seat. “Just say you don’t want this! Any of this,” he said, gesturing to the environment around you. 

You shook your head. “I’m just stressed. I still want this, I want you.” 

“Then why don’t you fucking act like it?” he questioned. You felt your eyes welling up with tears. 

“When have I not acted like it?”

“When you decided your work was more important than us.”

“I have never once put more value into my job than our relationship. You know that. Just because we haven’t had sex or cuddled in a little while doesn’t mean I’m not still here.”

Mark threw his arms up and let out an exasperated sigh, beginning to cry. 

“I lost my fucking job,” he said suddenly, hot tears streaming down his face 

“You- What?” you said, mouth slightly parted in shock. 

He buried his face in the palms of his hands, letting the beer bottle rest on his knee. 

“They let me go.”

“When?” you asked, turning your body to face him more. 

“Couple weeks ago.”

“Weeks?” you repeated. “Mark, why didn’t you tell me?”

He slouched further back into the couch. “I’m a fucking loser.”

“You’re not a loser,” you said. “You’re going through a tough time.” 

You scooted closer to him, enveloping him in a hug and rubbing his knee soothingly. 

“Where have you been if not the lab?” You asked suddenly, remembering he’d been gone for hours each night consistently. 

He rolled his eyes, pulling away from you. “Does it matter?”

You squinted. “I’m just wondering.”

Mark shut his eyes, taking another swig of beer and ignoring your question. “I need a nap.”

You got up from the couch, gathering the garbage that surrounded him and making your way back to the kitchen. 

“I’m gonna clean a little and grab my things. I just came here for a change of clothes.”

Soft snores emitted from the living room. 

You spent the better part of your day cleaning the apartment and organizing Mark’s stuff. You probably threw away dozens of takeout boxes and empty beer bottles, pinching your nose at the stench they left behind. 

When things seemed habitable again, you grabbed a fresh set of clothes and left the apartment, careful not to wake a sleeping Mark on the sofa. 

*

“You don’t know how long I could stare into your picture, and wish that it was me”

After stopping by your favorite ramen place for dinner and running a few errands, you returned to your parents’ amidst the rush of traffic, looking up at the vast navy sky. It was already nearing nighttime, and you knew Felix was visiting tonight. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the only part of your day you were looking forward to. 

You showered again, washing the smell of beer and old takeout off your skin. And you dressed up in a cuter set of pajamas this time, matching your tank top to your shorts and completing it with a silky French braid. 

You were glad you had remembered to grab a few books from your nightstand at the apartment, settling down under your dimly-lit lamp to continue one you had already started. 

And just past midnight, three knocks came from your window. 

Felix climbed in with ease, setting a bag down on your desk and slipping off his sneakers. He looked fancier than you’d ever seen him before, light wash jeans accompanying a fitted black shirt and a leather jacket. You bit back a smile at the sight, wishing he’d owned it back when you were allowed to rip it off him. 

“Hey,” he said with a smile, sounding out of breath. 

“Hi,” you replied gently. “What’s with the fancy outfit?”

He chuckled. “We went to this dinner thing. I dunno, I think I just overdress wherever I go these days.”

You smiled up at him. “It looks good. Maybe overdressing is a good thing.”

“Yeah?” he said. “Maybe.”

You took your seat on the bed, resting against the headboard and crossing your legs. 

“How was your day?” he asked. It reminded you of when he’d catch up on your day between hungry kisses before you got intimate. Part of you wished it was still that way. 

You shrugged. “Not the best.”

“Why?” he said, furrowing his brows and sitting across from you, also cross-legged. 

 “Just… a lot. Back home.”

He cocked his head. “Back home? Wait so you don’t… you don’t live here anymore?”

You audibly laughed. “You thought I stayed in this dingy part of town? In this empty room? Of course not!”

“Where do you live then?”

“I’m on the south side, a little drive out from here. I just came to say hi to my parents for a bit. And to get a break from…” your voice trailed off. 

“From?” he said, urging you to finish.

“From… my boyfriend.”

Felix felt his heart sink.

He knew you agreed to remain friends. He knew he had an obligation to keep things platonic. He knew how you felt about what happened before. But he still held on to a sliver of hope that you’d be single by the time he came back to visit. Wishful thinking indeed. 

“Ah, boyfriend,” he said awkwardly. “That’s cool.”

You nodded. Sensing the awkward tension in the air, you changed the subject.

“What’s in the bag?”

He glanced over at it, shrugging casually. “Baked you a few things. There’s some brownies, lemon tarts and salted caramel cookies. Though I think I needed more caramel on those.”

You grinned at him, shaking your head. “You’re exactly the same. Still got a thing for baking. And spoiling people.”

He smiled back at you, a glint of sadness in his expression. “I never stopped.”

The night was spent catching up once again, you getting more glimpses into his life as an idol, and him learning all about your job and its attributes. Felix was careful not to bring up any topics that might lead back to your boyfriend, still feeling overwhelmed at the mention of one in the first place. Call it immature, but he was undeniably jealous. 

Yet every time the room fell silent, his mind wandered back to that minute detail. What did he look like? What did he do for work? How often did the two of you have sex? Were you in love?

Questions he wished he could pry and get an answer to, but ones he knew would push you away. So he kept silent, engaging in surface-level conversation that hardly satisfied his need to understand you. 

At half past two, you let out a yawn, feeling your eyelids getting heavy. 

“Tired?” he asked, licking a cookie crumb off the tip of his thumb. 

You nodded, stretching out your legs and pulling the blankets over you. You fluffed your pillow before resting a hand below your cheek and laying on it, staring up at Felix who still sat across from you. 

He swallowed nervously, admiring the way your long lashes blinked up at him so innocently. He remembered that from years ago, a little move that always drove him crazy. 

“You want to stay?” you asked quietly.

He swallowed again, feeling his ears get hot. 

“I… don’t want to make it weird. Especially with…” his voice trailed off. He couldn’t bring himself to circle back to the boyfriend topic.

“It’s not weird. We’re friends,” you explained. “You can just take the other side and we won’t cuddle or anything.”

Felix’s heart raced at the suggestion. Though he would have preferred cuddling, even as friends, he couldn’t bring himself to decline your offer. He wanted nothing more than to hear your snores as you drifted off to sleep beside him. 

“Okay,” he finally replied, removing his jacket and running a hand through his hair. 

“You still have a change of clothes in the left drawer,” you said in a sleepy voice. “And your toothbrush is still in the bathroom.”

Felix successfully found the change of clothes, comfortably slipping into them and brushing his teeth with the familiar blue toothbrush you always kept for him. 

When he returned, your lashes fluttered open, smiling up at the sight of him. “Cute,” you said quietly.

He felt his heartbeat quicken. There it was again- that feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he had to remind himself to keep it platonic. Not to smother you with kisses, not to hold you while you slept. But to behave the way a friend did- one with a friend he was wildly attracted to, who also now happened to have a boyfriend. 

“Thanks,” Felix said, trying his best to sound nonchalant. 

He slipped into the bed next to you, pulling the blankets up to his torso and staring up at the ceiling. It was a sight he wasn’t used to, locking eyes with the white canvas above him. Normally he’d lay on his side, arms wrapped tightly around you, legs lazily hoisted over yours as he pressed little kisses to your face and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. 

The feeling felt strange, unnatural, even. Like lying beside a stranger in a foreign place. Not to mention the new addition of clothes- normally, Felix would get himself cleaned up and change into a clean pair of boxers. Sometimes, he wore nothing at all. The white t-shirt and patterned shorts were among the new developments in your friendship with him. 

“Need to charge my phone,” he said suddenly, sitting up and reaching for his phone from beside him. 

“Would you plug mine in, too?” you said, eyes still shut as sleep began to wash over you. 

He reached for yours, balancing the two phones in one hand as he made his way across the room to a spare outlet. First he plugged in his own, the little chime confirming the outlet worked. And then yours- the glow of your lockscreen making him squint against the brightness. He glanced over his shoulder at your sleeping frame, small breaths emitting from your mouth as you dozed. 

A growing curiosity led him to tap the screen as it dimmed again, examining the photo set as your background. 

It was a man, presumably your boyfriend, dressed in a black jacket and a snug black beanie, smiling at the camera as one slender hand gripped a spoonful of ice cream.  

Felix felt his stomach churn. He carefully observed all of his features- big brown eyes, dark slanted brows and a strong, masculine jawline. He was handsome- hell, he was hot. 

Felix painfully imagined the scenario that preceded the photo. First date? Second date? Hundredth date? Did he kiss you before, or after the picture was taken? Had the same spoon been used to feed you ice cream? Did you already live together at the time? What was his reaction at the photo finding a place on your lockscreen?

Felix clenched his jaw. He hoped the guy appreciated you making the photo a permanent part of your routine. The same photo you’d look at when you woke up in the morning, the same photo you’d look at right before going to sleep at night. The photo you’d see before dialing your mom or dad. The photo you’d see if Felix were to call. 

As he sat observing the photo, refreshing the dimming light for a third time, a small buzz caught his attention. There on your phone, a text banner covered the guy’s face. Felix scanned it briefly, knowing he really shouldn’t be prying in your text messages like this. 

Mark: Sorry about today

Felix raised an eyebrow. It must’ve been the guy on the lockscreen. A little heart emoji next to his name confirmed his suspicion. Another text came through as he finished reading. 

Mark: I should’ve told u 

He frowned. Told you what? What had happened before he came over tonight? Is that why you seemed upset?

Mark: Sorry for yelling. Thanks for fixing the place 

Mark: I’ll explain when you get back 

Mark: I don’t deserve you 

Felix scoffed silently. At least he knew that much. 

Mark: I still love you

And then he froze. The four words made his heart stop briefly.

He knew you’d been seeing someone new. He knew you weren’t single, and that you and him were not going to hook up. Let alone be in any form of an intimate relationship. 

But he hadn’t considered that the two of you were on “I love you” terms. The thought of it made his throat dry. You were entirely in love with someone, and it wasn’t him. It was never going to be him. For a fleeting second, Felix considered leaving. There was no reason to be here- in bed, asleep next to someone he’d felt so complicated about. He’d just grab his things and disappear out the window, probably never coming to visit you again. The presence of Mark in your life would likely fill the microscopic hole that was the absence of Felix’s. 

“Felix?” you said in a whisper. “Are you coming to bed?”

And he melted at the sound of your voice all over again. Giddy at the thought of being close to you again, of smelling your familiar scent and waking up next to you when Mark surely wouldn’t. 

“Coming,” Felix replied. “Just letting my mom know I’ll be late tomorrow.”

And before he could think it over any further, he slipped back into bed beside you. Hands folded over his chest, staring up at the ceiling that now seemed much more inviting than the thought of leaving you to sleep alone. The picture of Mark was etched in his mind like a painful tattoo, and he winced when he remembered the texts you would wake up to.

But not before you slept beside him first, gracing his presence with your light snores and sweet scent. Something Mark wouldn’t get for at least tonight- and for that reason alone, he was satisfied. 

*

“I dreamt I was standing in your doorstep, licking sweat off of your forehead, with your finger in my mouth, and the sound when leather jackets hit the ground”

Labored breaths escaped your parted lips as you slept, turning over in discomfort. 

You’d fallen asleep hours ago, Felix following shortly after. And quickly, he found his way into your dreams. 

Maybe it was the absence of intimacy between you and Mark, or maybe it was that stupid leather jacket Felix had worn tonight. Either way, your mind was clouded with images of it, painting vivid pictures of it on the floor between you. 

Felix towered over you, blonde hair falling into his face as he tilted your chin up to meet his, pressing wet kisses to your lips and neck. Your hands remained at your sides, waiting for him to take the lead. 

An eager hand snaked up your frame, finding its way to your mouth, where he interrupted the kiss by sliding a slender finger into your lips. You sucked obediently, never letting your eyes lose sight of his. 

When you’d soaked him in your spit, he guided you backward to the bed, desperately parting your legs and inserting two fingers into your aching sex. You gripped his forearms with pleasure, moaning against his lanky figure and begging for more. 

He hummed at your noises, pressing the hardness in his boxers against your core. When you gasped in response, he stood up again, running a hand through his hair as you watched him pull the waistband down lower, lower… 

Your own gasps woke you up, pausing at the realization of how much you’d sweated onto your sheets. Felix was sound asleep on the pillow next to you, his chest rising and falling gently with his snores.

You glanced at the time. It was just past 3. Felix had not even been asleep for a full hour, and yet here you were having lewd visions of him fingering you in the very spot you slept. You quietly slipped out from the covers, strolling to the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. 

You didn’t bother turning on the light, afraid you would wake Felix and cause him concern so late at night. Instead, you pushed aside the curtain in the bathroom window, allowing silver-blue moonlight to illuminate the room around you, observing your disheveled appearance in the mirror above the sink. Beads of sweat glued curly strands of hair to your forehead. 

Still aware of the heat in your core, you pulled down your shorts, and then your panties, quietly gasping at the sight. They almost peeled away from your wetness, stringy white lines of desperation disappearing on to the soaked spot where your longing for him made itself known. 

All it took was that stupid leather jacket, and here you were, almost cumming at the sight of him in dream. 

You couldn’t help yourself, letting one finger circle the pool that had accumulated between your thighs. The panting began gradually, as your mind wandered back to where you’d been so rudely interrupted in your dream.

You continued the fantasy of his boxers being pulled fully down, eyebrows arched in pleasure at the thought of his cock springing out, all hard and leaky and ready for you. In consciousness you’d probably tease him, a gentle hand caressing his length as you’d coo little compliments up at him, admiring the way he could barely contain himself. 

You’d bend yourself over the side of the bed, instructing him to use you, to fuck you hard, until he was satisfied. And he would, his length finding its way to your aching pussy, rubbing his wet head over your clit until you were begging to have him inside you. 

You could feel yourself getting close as you fantasized when he’d slide into you, his erection stretching you out the way it did all those years ago. You’d promise with pleading in your voice that you’d let him use you whenever he wanted, however he pleased, so that you’d get used to his familiar size and shape again. 

And he would smile between hard thrusts, picking up the pace as his hand would find its way to the small of your back, rubbing a thumb along your skin soothingly before leaning over and pressing a wet kiss on your shoulders.

Your moans would fill the room, saying his name like a prayer you’d repeat again and again, the four walls around you teeming with echoes of wet skin and filthy words. 

And that same gentle hand would caress your throat as he found his release, this time inside of you. He’d shower you with praise the way he always did, his deep voice making your skin tingle as he pressed little kisses to your neck and ear. And you’d kiss away his tears, staying close to him until sleep called your name.

As your mind drifted back into reality, you brought a finger up, observing the way you’d made a mess of yourself right in front of the sink. You parted two fingers curiously, white cum glistening under the moonlight. 

How pathetic. You’d been the one to establish boundaries again. You’d been the one who specified this was a platonic occurrence. 

Yet here you were, masturbating to filthy thoughts of him while he slept in the room next door, knowing very well you had a boyfriend waiting for you back home. 

After getting cleaned up, you found your way back to the bed, crawling in next to him like a guilty sinner. He turned to face you in his sleep with small breaths escaping his parted lips. 

Felix looked like an angel at this time of night. But the thoughts he gave you were anything except saint-like. 

*

Felix had to leave again in the morning, waking you up as he sat up in bed and stretched beside you. 

“Felix?” you said, memories of last night flooding your head all over again. You hoped he didn’t hear you in the bathroom. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he replied, his raspy morning voice sending shivers down your spine. “Have to go get some stuff done today.”

You turned over so that you were facing him and stared up at him through groggy eyes. 

He tucked his hair behind his ears, looking down at you and giving you a small smile. The sunlight kissed his blonde hair, setting it aglow and making it appear almost white. His eyes were puffy with exhaustion, but his smile exuded that of a restful night. 

“Did you sleep well?” he asked. 

You thought back to a few hours ago. 

“Yeah. Better than I have in a while. You?”

He rubbed an eye, nodding. “I feel less tense.”

“Good,” you said. Maybe his dream self relieving some tension had carried over into his consciousness. 

“Do you want to do something tonight?” Felix asked suddenly. “I mean, like, go somewhere? I feel bad that we’ve only been catching up at ungodly hours of the night and then I have to leave.”

You reached a hand out, playing with a loose hem on his shirt. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”

He smiled again. “Cool. I’ll pick you up at around 6? We’ll go somewhere fancy.”

You nodded, shutting your eyes again. 

Without another word, he was out of the bed, pulling on his clothes from yesterday and neatly folding the pajamas before storing them back in the dresser. 

“Don’t forget your jacket,” you said, giving him an amused smile as he pulled it off your desk chair and draped it over one arm. 

“Oh yeah, thanks,” Felix replied. 

And with a small wave he disappeared out the window again, leaving you to the vacant room with thoughts running rampant. 

*

“I guess it’s different ‘cause you love him, but I’ve got an interactive sick and twisted imagination”

It was no use. Felix couldn’t behave like a normal functioning human when he wasn’t around you. Nor when he was around you. His mind wandered back to that photo set as your lockscreen- of Mark holding a spoonful of ice cream, looking handsome and intimate. 

As he sat in the backseat of the van, his mom talking the family’s ear off about plans for his sister’s upcoming graduation, he gritted his teeth remembering the texts.

He wondered if you read them yet, and how you felt about them. Maybe you were elated to hear from Mark, traveling back to the apartment to make love to him and accept his half-assed apology. Maybe you had already broken up with him, finally realizing your true feelings for Felix and waiting up for him in bed like you used to, only this time madly in love. 

Felix felt like such a loser. He could no longer deny the way he felt about you, constantly wondering what you were doing when he wasn’t around, who you were interacting with, and how often you thought of him. He’d give anything to crawl around in your mind and find out how you felt about him now that things were this different. He probably would’ve snooped through your phone last night if it wasn’t locked, to find a trace of him, and come to the absurd conclusion that you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. 

Felix glanced down at his phone, opening Instagram for the millionth time today and clicking on your user. You didn’t use it much, but the 18 little squares did provide a window into your life without Felix, and he hated it. 

He hated to see you in a short dress at a club he wasn’t aware of. Hated to see your graduation photos, ones he wished he would’ve received when they were taken. 

Hated to see the pictures you had with Mark. One whole carousel dedicated to him, ten random photos you selected for a birthday post. A selfie of the two of you in bed, a funny picture of him wearing a face mask, a photo from when he let you make little braids in his hair and posed for you. And another photo from that same ice cream date, a different angle, but just as handsome and intimate as the first time. 

Felix clicked on all the same photos, reading the captions over again, stalking users from the comment sections and piecing together who they were in relation to you. But it was no use. No amount of obsessive stalking was going to make you like him. You had a life without him, beyond what you had five years ago. You’d been right about that.

Felix sighed, locking his phone again and thinking back to last night. He’d been so ecstatic to spend the night by your side again. It felt like home. He felt safe. 

He hoped you didn’t notice the erection that troubled him early into the night. He’d been forced to focus on his breathing patterns, moving as far away from you as possible to not get aroused by your sleeping figure. He remembered you getting up at some point, a brief interval of time which he felt empty and exposed without you in your bed. When you’d returned, he felt his heart could burst, suddenly overjoyed at the reminder that you were here beside him in your bed. And that it would remain that way until morning broke. Each passing minute worried him, and he so badly wished he could freeze time and stay with you in your bed forever.

“Felix?” a voice interrupted. He snapped his head up to the mirror, humming in response to his mom. 

“Should we coordinate so you can stay at the cabin with us? Or do you want your own room?”

His sister’s graduation. She’d planned a few days with her friends to stay by the lake, and most of Felix’s family would be at the neighboring cabin. 

“Oh, uh… I dunno, I was planning something with a few friends.”

“That’s okay,” she responded. “I know you have a lot you wanted to do.”

Her voice trailed back to the topic of their plans, and Felix’s mind wandered back to you. His family being away meant he had you to himself for a few days, and he wouldn’t have to leave you in the mornings. He bit back a smile at the thought of staying in bed with you all day. Even just as friends.

But the change of plans meant he had to organize something special tonight. Dinner? A movie? The two of you seldom saw movies together back then, always leaving 20 minutes in to go get busy in his car. He wasn’t even sure if you still liked all the same restaurants. 

But he did have one thing in mind, and he hoped it would help you forget all about Mark.��

*

When you woke for a second time, it was well past 11. You rubbed your eyes of sleep, surprised at how tired you’d been all week. Last night’s events really relieved your stress- maybe a little too much. 

You made your way to your phone, several notifications catching your eye. 

Ten total texts from Mark, a few from last night, the last one being just an hour ago. 

Mark: Call me when you can

Mark: I want to talk

Mark: Can you come over at all?

Mark: Sorry

You furrowed your brows, the texts ringing several alarms in your head. The constant apologies, the urgency to speak with you. The fight hadn’t been that bad, right? Did you remember it differently?

And one from Felix, who seldom texted you. The two of you were still getting acquainted with speaking through little messages like this- you didn’t have to in the past because you were always together. Phone calls were your preferred method of communicating with him if anything, but his texts were always so innocent, and knowing he was thinking of you made you smile. 

Felix: 🐣

The little emoji made you giggle, momentarily forgetting about Mark’s eagerness to speak with you. You shot him back a little emoji in response, settling on the sun, representative of both the day outside and his presence in your life. Sunshine. 

You put your phone face down on the bed again, gathering your clothes and toiletries for a shower. You had to go see Mark, and something told you it was going to be a long, long conversation. 

After a quick shower and some breakfast, (or lunch, rather), you were off to see Mark again. 

*

The apartment was beginning to look messy all over again. There were more takeout boxes sprawled along the counter, random belongings on the dining table and dishes stacked on the coffee table. 

“Mark?” you called out. 

“In the bedroom,” he shouted back, a somber tone in his voice. 

You kicked off your shoes and followed to your shared room, and the state of it confused you.

His clothes, stacked high on the bed, some hung neatly on hangers and some folded. His collection of sneakers, piled in one corner, along with his belts and hats. And miscellaneous paraphernalia that belonged to him- journals, briefcases, mementos.  

“Mark?” you said, taking in the sight. 

He looked up at you, pulling his lips in a thin line. He looked as though he’d been crying.

“Sit,” he said plainly. You complied. 

Before he said anything, he let out a heavy sigh, scratching the back of his head. 

“I never meant for you to find out like this,” Mark said. 

You waited for him to continue. 

“I just… things were hard. And I guess it was hard to come to you about it, because you always have your shit together.”

You twiddled your thumbs together nervously, “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

He looked behind him at the pile of clothes. “I didn’t think you’d want me around anymore.”

You turned to look at him, a little angry at him for jumping to conclusions like this. “I’ve done nothing but care for you. You’ve been here at some of my lowest points. Why do you discredit me when I’m here for yours?”

He looked at the floor, saying nothing.

“I mean for god’s sake Mark, not telling me about your job is one thing. But you’re going to act like I’m the bad guy for needing a little space when we’re going through a rough patch? I let you have the place for a bit, doesn’t mean I’m not coming back for you. I love you and you know that.”

He swallowed. “I just don’t know how we’re supposed to come back from this.”

“Come back from what, you drinking here and there to cope? A small argument we had last night?”

“Me sleeping with my lab partner,” Mark blurted out.

You fell silent. A wave of shock washed over you, and then distress. Your throat went dry, your eyes trembling with tears prematurely. 

“You what?” you asked, your voice coming out in a whisper. 

Mark hung his head. “I thought you knew.”

“No I didn’t fucking know! Jesus, Mark! How long has this been going on?” The tears began to fall, staining your face with mascara. 

“Four months,” he answered. Mark didn’t cry, nor did he raise his voice. It was a casual confession, like he’d been waiting to tell you all this time. 

Mark hadn’t even been out of a job four months ago. The cheating had begun when you two were still on good terms. Or so you’d thought. 

You nodded, silent sobs escaping your lips. Mark watched you with a guilt-ridden expression, knowing that this was it. 

“Okay,” you said, standing up from the bed and slinging your purse over your shoulder. 

He stood up too, observing your face. “I’ll be out by the time you’re back. I already arranged for my stuff to be picked up.”

His nonchalant tone angered you. You wanted to scream, to hit him and try anything to make him stay. But the truth was, you’d already lost Mark a long time ago. 

The two of you had been nothing but strangers in a joint bedroom, pretending nothing had gone awry, when in actuality, your feelings were just as convoluted as his. Maybe it was the stress of your job, or the existence of a routine that drove you crazy most days. Either way, you hadn’t been happy with him for a long time. The same rang true for Mark. 

“Can I ask you something?” You said before leaving. 

He paused with baited breath. 

“Why did you act like I was the one who threw this all away?”

He hung his head again. “Like I said before. It was hard to come to you about it. You always have your shit together. You always know what you want. And I think…” his voice trailed off. You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to finish. 

“I think your heart might be elsewhere too.” 

It was your turn to shift to an expression of guilt. Had he known all this time? About your complex feelings? About Felix coming back, and your nights with him, albeit nothing intimate? 

Though you wanted to defend yourself, you couldn’t. Instead, you pursed your lips together, nodding reluctantly in silence.

“I’ll be back in a few days,” you said. “Can we grab a coffee or something soon?”

Mark’s expression softened. He took a step forward, opening his arms for a hug, which you stepped into. His hugs, always so familiar- the scent of his cedar cologne and the firmness of his arms always felt like home. Or at least they did until this point of your life- maybe your chapter in this apartment with Mark was finally at a close. 

“Of course we can,” he said, his voice muffled into your tear-stained shoulder. 

And there you stood, basking in the last fragments of the place you’d called home for so long. 

*

“Do you like these little sonnets? ‘Cause I wrote them just for you”

In all honesty, the last thing you wanted to do was go out tonight. You’d spent the afternoon crying in your room, grieving the last few days you had with Mark. He’d been a steady part of your adult life for as long as you’d known it, and suddenly, he just… wasn’t anymore. 

You wanted to call him and ask if he was still seeing the girl he’d cheated with. A part of you wanted to hate him, but the other part just wanted him to be happy. Maybe this adult life was something you needed to navigate away from each other now. Maybe this routine wasn’t healthy for either of you. Since your freshman year of college, Mark was all you’d ever known. You hadn’t slept with anyone else, hadn’t dated anyone else, and hadn’t really met other men aside from his friends. But the thought of navigating the future without him was petrifying. 

On the other hand, you longed for the uncertainty. You wanted to have the freedom to go out and come home late, not having to worry about anyone waiting up for you. You wanted to discover new things about yourself, see the world, and make your own coffee at night when you worked. It’s not that you didn’t appreciate everything Mark did for you in that sense, but when incorporated into the repetitive routine of adulthood, they had lost meaning to both of you. Maybe that’s why Mark sought something else in another woman. 

And maybe that’s why you couldn’t push Felix away anymore. 

You weren’t sure about any of it. But you did know Mark seemed to have a weight off his shoulders. And you did know sleeping next to Felix felt… right. It felt safe again. It felt like home. 

You packed a few of your nicer clothes from the apartment, trying on variations of them in the bathroom mirror back at your parents’ house. 

Felix had called briefly to tell you to wear something that would match his black suit, and you were intrigued by the amusement in his voice. But you also faked your excitement on the phone, trying your best to hold back tears and sniffles.

So you settled on a silky maroon dress, the draped neckline accentuating the curve of your breasts and hugging your waist like it was tailored to you. A pair of black heels complemented your dress, and you felt sexy for the first time in a while. 

Felix called you when he arrived, almost on the dot. 

“I’m here,” he said. “Do you want me to go up? Or- are you parents home? I should probably say hi.”

You giggled at his nervousness. Just about anything made Felix nervous. He was an over thinker at heart. 

“I’ll meet you out there,” you said.

As you adjusted your earrings in the mirror, a wave of sadness washed over you again. It had been this very dress that you’d worn when Mark was a guest speaker at your school’s biology department. He loved the color on you- even made sure he snapped a few photos of you in it before tearing it off between kisses. 

You shook your head, ridding yourself of the memories, and tried your best to remind yourself that tonight was for fun. You needed a night to get your mind off things, to think of something other than your job and Mark. 

You made your way outside, and Felix stepped out from the driver’s seat, hands folded behind his back nervously. You locked up behind you and carefully started toward the car, Felix jogging up to meet you halfway. 

“Wow…” he said, staring at you in wonder. 

You chuckled, feeling a blush rise in your cheeks. 

“You look…” he started, losing track of his words as his eyes locked with yours. 

He brought two fingers up to his neck, discreetly checking for a pulse as you smiled at him. It was a habit he’d done since he was young- an even cuter one considering he always thought you’d never noticed.

“You look very pretty,” he finished, a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke. 

“Thanks,” you replied. “You look very handsome.”

Felix checked for a pulse again, playing it off as an itch on the crook of his neck. 

“Ready?” you asked as he stood in silence. 

“Yeah,” Felix replied, trying his best to snap out of the trance he was in. 

The two of you made your way to the car, Felix holding the door for you, and sat quietly for a moment while he confirmed the address on his phone. 

“Where are we going?” You asked. He only smiled at you. 

“It’s a surprise.”

Once he started the GPS, the two of you chatted the whole drive, exchanging stories about your families and friends. Felix told you about his sister’s graduation party, and that he would have the place to himself for a few days. Doing his best to slip in a casual invitation for you to spend the night. (Platonically, of course.)

You told him all about what your own graduation was like- down to the hangover you had after clubbing for 13 hours straight. Felix couldn’t help but wonder where Mark fit into your story. 

The drive was much like they used to be. Aside from the steamy moments you used to share, conversations were always the most fun part about being around Felix. He always had something new to tell you, little tales that kept you on your feet and drew you even closer to him. It seemed that after five long years, you could finally reciprocate with your own fascinating anecdotes. 

Before you knew it, the two of you had arrived at a hotel, finding a parking spot in the garage below. You stepped out and looked around, wrapping your arms around yourself and inhaling the cool breeze. 

“Cold?” Felix asked, and you shook your head. 

“Feels nice, actually.”

You linked arms with him as he led you into the building and to the elevator, where another elegant looking man pressed the up button for the two of you. A little bell chime indicated it was at your level, the double doors opening slowly in front of you. Felix ushered you in first, following carefully behind you and pressing the silver circle marked ‘R’. 

As the elevator began, it jerked with force, causing you to gasp and grip the bar to the left of you. Felix moved closer to you, placing a gentle hand on your waist as the ride continued. You felt goosebumps form on your skin at his touch, remembering all too well how it had felt back then. It still made your heart race. 

When you arrived, the double doors slid open again, and you gasped at the view in front of you. It was a rooftop restaurant overlooking the city, thousands of little buildings below you glowing like stars in the night sky. The tables were neatly lined with white tablecloths and candles. And the best part? The rooftop was empty, aside from a waiter who politely gestured to the table nearest the ledge. You bowed graciously as he led the way and poured you both a glass of champagne, placing two menus on the table before he left. 

As you stared awestruck at the skyline, Felix’s gaze remained locked on your gentle expression. His heart raced watching you smile, eyes twinkling with reflections of the city he called home. 

“Do you like it?” He asked.

“Like it?” You repeated. “Felix, it’s so beautiful up here... How’d you even find this place?” You turned to look at him and he glanced down nervously at the menu, feeling his heart might burst with affection.

“Heard of it through a friend.”

He wasn’t going to tell you the truth of course- that he spent nearly two hours of his day in the backseat of his parents’ van googling romantic dinner locations in the city. Calling up 14 in total for a last minute reservation, eventually convincing his manager to have them clear the reservation list so you’d have the privacy you deserved. Which he paid extra for- along with the private parking spot, a table closest to the ledge, and the specialty request champagne. 

“Raspberries?” You said curiously, taking a sip of the sparkling beverage. A raspberry champagne cocktail on ice- a recipe Felix found online and personally requested. 

“Wow, you have to try the champagne,” you told Felix, eyes glimmering at the heavenly flavor. He knew you’d like it.

When the waiter came back to your table, Felix ordered you both a mutual favorite of chicken risotto, handing your menus to the waiter and turning back to you with a shy smile. 

“What?” You asked playfully. 

He giggled. “Nothing. It’s just nice to be here with you.”

You nodded, taking another sip of champagne. Of course, memories of your day with Mark still plagued your mind. You didn’t want to give Felix the wrong idea considering you were still going through a rough patch, unsure of what the future even held for the two of you. Keep it casual, you reminded yourself. 

“It is nice,” you said. “I needed an outing like this with my best friend.”

Felix’s smile faded a little, reaching for his own glass of champagne and taking a big sip. He cleared his throat, his coughing getting louder as he set the glass down. 

“Are you okay?” You asked. 

He nodded with flushed cheeks and watery eyes. “Raspberry. Got stuck in my throat.”

You slid him a napkin and he wiped his mouth of the pink residue, turning away to not embarrass himself further.

“Do you want me to get you a glass of water?” You asked with concern in your voice. 

“I’ll do it,” he said quickly, standing up from the table. I’m doing so, he bumped his knee on the edge, knocking his glass over and staining the white tablecloth. 

“Fuck,” Felix said angrily. “Shit.”

You placed the glass upright again. “It’s okay, we can just remove the tablecloth.” You glanced around the rooftop for the waiter who’d been away at the kitchen. 

Felix piled the cutlery with shaky hands, dropping a fork with a loud clang as he scrambled to remove the tablecloth. You noticed his shakiness and reached out to place a hand gently over his own. He stopped to look at you with wide eyes. 

“Felix,” you said. “Breathe.”

He took a deep breath and blinked a few times at you. 

“Sorry,” Felix said, embarrassment evident in his voice. “It’s been a while since…” his voice trailed off, knowing he wasn’t allowed to refer to this as a date. 

“It’s okay,” you said. “It’s just me.”

Just you, Felix thought. Just the woman he’d been fawning over for years. Just the woman he hadn’t forgotten once in the span of his new life. The woman he looked for in everyone, in everything. The woman he couldn’t form sentences around or stop stumbling over himself.

“Just you” was the problem. 

Felix sat down across from you again, and the waiter returned with your food, placing it on the bare wooden table with a questioning look. Felix sheepishly handed him the strained tablecloth. 

Felix’s nervousness had always been charming to you. You couldn’t help but smile at the way he’d display those same mannerisms from years ago, desperate to look “cool”, and being anything but in the process. 

“What?” Felix asked you this time, cutting into his chicken. 

“Nothing,” you said. “I think it’s better without the tablecloth anyway.”

He huffed out a laugh. “It was a little overkill.”

“Oh, definitely. In fact, they should’ve swapped our table for one of those plastic outdoor ones. Those are peak fine dining. Or maybe those cheeseburger stools from McDonald’s? Now that would’ve been impressive.”

Felix laughed loudly, and you joined him, watching as his shoulders relaxed with every movement. 

As the night progressed, Felix seemed a lot more comfortable, finally coming around to the idea of having dinner with his best friend- nothing more. Memories of Mark tainted your mind when the night fell silent, and the images of him were still burned into Felix’s mind. But you both embraced the night with open arms, like you were the only two who existed in this timeline- the way it was when you were just kids. 

At the end of the night, you got up to get a better look at the view. Felix followed, snapping a few photos and dragging you into one for a selfie in front of the skyline. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself, admiring the way everything looked so small from up here. So insignificant, so fleeting. Like your life was a city, and every building was just a small part of it, no matter how big it seemed from down there. 

“See there?” You said, pointing at the south side. “That’s where my apartment is.”

Felix looked out, squinting at the horizon. 

“And there,” you said, pointing in another direction. “Is where my university was.”

From the corner of your eye, you could tell Felix wasn’t looking at the skyline anymore. He had his gaze locked on you, carefully observing the way your hair flowed in the gentle night time breeze. Two fingers worked their way up to check his pulse again- still breathing. 

You didn’t look back at him. Instead, you studied the way the city seemed to change by the minute. Planes with flashing lights flickering in thick fog, cars that drove by in the blink of an eye. Offices still with their lights on, apartments and houses already asleep for the night. It was all so changing- so uncertain. You could take pictures just seconds apart and it’d be the same place, but never the exact same moment in time.

“Want to get going?” You asked, still aware of his eyes on you. 

“Yeah,” Felix said quietly. He wasn’t sure what he’d been hoping for, but he felt briefly disappointed. 

You finally turned to him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and smiling at him. “Come on then.”

Felix led you down the stairs to the elevator, where you both entered, and he pushed a silver circle marked 17.

You cocked your head in confusion. “Isn’t it the garage level?”

A knowing smile met your confused expression. “I booked us a room for the night.”

It was the last of Felix’s surprises- one he knew you’d be excited about. Similarly, one he hoped wouldn’t overstep his boundaries. Fancy hotel rooms were something the two of you only dreamt of in the past, joking about how you’d order one of everything from room service and sleep in everyday till noon. Along with a list of other things you always wanted to try, but he knew very well that was no longer a part of the plan. He didn’t mind, simply wanting to spend a night by your side in a room that wasn’t your childhood bedroom. Now that he could afford it, he’d make sure you experienced everything you once wanted to. 

“Felix…” you began. “This is too much.”

He shook his head nonchalantly. “It’s a little day trip. You don’t work tomorrow and my family’s out for the weekend. Might as well stay while we’re here.”

The elevator stopped at your floor and you got off, following his strut down the hall as he found your room. He pulled a white card out from the pocket of his suit, scanning it and pushing the door open with ease. 

“Come on,” he said, gesturing for you to follow him. 

The sweet scent of vanilla and sandalwood filled the room all around you in an instant. You gasped at the sight of tall clear windows that overlooked the same skyline view you had at dinner. Two massive beds occupied the middle of the room that connected to a single bathroom.

“What about our stuff?” You said suddenly, unable to imagine sleeping in this gown. 

“The staff’s already on their way up with our bags. You don’t have to worry about that.”

 Felix sat on the edge of the bed, arms rested behind him. You made your way over to him, sitting opposite him on your own bed, unable to speak. 

“I… I don’t even know what to say.”

He chuckled. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to do something fun for my best friend.”

“Thank you,” you said. “Seriously- thank you. This has been the best surprise after such a… shitty week. I really needed this.”

“I’m glad,” Felix replied. “That was my plan.” He laid back on the white duvet, spreading his limbs out along the surface. “Now can we please order some dessert from room service?”

*

“We wanna talk about sex but we’re not allowed” 

“Solid 6/10.” 

“What?” You replied. “No way.”

“Way,” Felix replied. “The vanilla tastes… bitter.”

“Bitter? Are we eating the same thing?”

“Crème brûlée. Bitter crème brûlée.” He remarked. 

You laughed, setting down your fork. 

“Okay, last one.” You lifted the silver dome cover off the last plate, revealing a single slice of cheesecake. 

“Now this one I’m judging harshly,” Felix said. 

“You judged all of them harshly!” You said jokingly.

“Touché.”

“Ready? One, two, three…” you popped a forkful in your mouth, chewing for a moment before nodding. “That’s the single best slice of cheesecake I’ve ever had.”

“No way,” Felix said. 

“Way,” you replied.

You handed the fork back to Felix, who took a bite of his own, thinking it over for a second. “8/10.”

“What! You’re just being cocky now.”

“Mine is better! You can’t deny that.”

“Mmm I’m not so sure.”

In a fit of laughter, you laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and shutting your eyes briefly. “I can’t believe we’re here.” 

You turned your head to face the view again, speckles of city lights gleaming from beyond the tall glass windows. 

“It’s something, huh?” Felix said. 

“Mhmm. This was one of our bucket list items from that summer.”

Felix felt his heartbeat quicken, surprised you brought up the topic of that summer at all. He’d wanted to talk about it for so long, not being able to with your new established dynamic. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I remember.”

“What’d we plan again? Dessert from the room service menu, steal the amenities? Sleep on silk sheets?”

He looked at you nervously, waiting for you to say it. Something- anything at all to prove you remembered. 

Have sex in the jacuzzi, Felix thought to himself. Fuck on the balcony. Do it in the middle of the night and try not to wake the neighboring rooms. 

“Yeah,” he settled on replying. “Think you got everything.”

You sat up again, making your way over to your suitcase and digging out your toothbrush out from the pile of clothes. “Gonna brush,” you said. 

Felix followed, sharing the sink space with you as you brushed your teeth in front of the large mirror. 

He wore a simple white shirt and blue flannel pants, you much more exposed in white cotton shorts and a tank top. Felix’s eyes darted briefly to your body and then back at your reflection in the mirror, and you suddenly felt much more aware of your appearance. 

When you finished, you crawled under the duvet again and enveloped yourself in the thick white sheets. You turned to face Felix, who climbed into his own bed across from you. 

“Thank you,” you said to him again. “For tonight.”

Felix nodded nervously. “You deserve it.”

And sleep washed over you quickly. 

*

“So how should I begin this? I guess it started when you were with him”

Felix hadn’t slept at all- in fact, he spent a good portion of the night facing you and letting the steady sound of your breathing fill the room. Rather he couldn’t sleep, unable to contain the growing bulge in his pants at the sight of your figure. 

He felt like such a loser again, his mind going back to summer when you made all those plans for a hotel room. And yet here he was, sleeping a few feet away from you in his own bed, having unholy thoughts about someone with a boyfriend. It was an unprecedented level of pathetic he felt. 

Trying his best not to wake you, he slipped out from the covers, tip-toeing his way to the bathroom. At least he could get some relief in there and maybe get some shut-eye. 

But his efforts were futile, waking you up as soon as he took the first steps toward you.

“Felix?” You called out. 

“Sorry,” he responded quickly, awkwardly bending over to hide his crotch. “I couldn’t sleep. Was gonna get a drink of water.”

You smiled sympathetically, patting the bed next to you. “Get in,” you said politely. He panicked. 

You’d surely find out about the ongoing incident if he complied. But selfishly, he wanted to, hoping that being closer to you would help it die down. A dense thought process, that’s for sure. 

So he obeyed, pulling his t-shirt down and slipping under the sheets so fast you couldn’t possibly have noticed in this darkness. You turned to face him, finally being able to see his face at this proximity. And for a minute, the two of you said nothing, gazing at each other under the dim glow of the city lights outside. 

You can’t remember who initiated it first, thinking it might’ve very well been you, who scooted closer and kissed him. 

Felix shut his eyes instinctively, like he knew this was going to happen. But the fact was, he didn’t. His heartbeat raced at a concerning speed now, head dizzy with thoughts. Still, he said nothing. Asked nothing. He just stayed there, kissing you back like his life depended on it. 

A tender hand found its way to your cheek, where he brushed a strand of your hair aside to place little kisses along your face. In doing so, he moved even closer, accidentally brushing his waist against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” Felix said while pulling away. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

He was rock hard now, head spinning with the reminder of how you tasted and breathed against him like this. 

You hoisted yourself up, looking down at his fearful expression. But you didn’t say anything in response, instead leaning down to kiss him again. His kisses were more desperate this time, little moans escaping into your mouth as you ran your tongue along his bottom lip. You pulled away again for a breath, and Felix panicked thinking you might leave or stop. 

This time however, you climbed over his delicate frame, straddling his waist as he sat up and rested his back against the headboard. His crotch pressed against you eagerly, but you stayed there for an excruciating few minutes, running a hand over his chest and into his blonde locks. 

“Blonde…” you said in an amused tone.

You traced his freckles with a single finger, sliding down to graze over the slope of his nose and then over his plump, needy lips. 

“Please…” Felix whispered as you leaned in to kiss him. “Please,” he said again between soft kisses. “Please, please, please…” 

His usually deep voice was much higher in pitch when he was this needy, and you’d never heard it this way before. 

“Mmm. Please what?” You said against his wet lips. He hesitated for a moment. 

“Please… use me…” he said shyly, a twinge of desperation as his breath hitched in his throat. His hips rocked gently against yours, reluctant hands finding their way down to your waist. 

The friction made you moan softly against him, and it was your turn to kiss him with longing. You wasted no more time reaching a hand between the two of you to pull off his pants as he slid your shorts down. You wrapped your legs around his torso in just your panties, clothed cock pressed firmly against your growing wetness, and he groaned in frustration. 

“Fuck…” he breathed out. “Don’t move or I might finish.”

You smiled between gentle kisses to his collarbones. Knowing he wasn’t exaggerating about finishing prematurely, you finally pulled his boxers down, wrapping one hand around his length and moving up and down. 

“Ah…” Felix struggled against your touch. 

“What’s wrong?” You cooed sweetly. “Gonna finish?”

He nodded with his eyes squeezed shut tightly. 

“That’s okay,” you said with a smile. “You can cum if you want to.” 

“I don’t… ah…” 

And with a scrunched nose, he found his release, making a mess all over his stomach between you. 

“Fuck,” Felix said. “I didn’t want to finish yet. Sorry.” His eyes were teary and spaced out as he caught his breath. 

You circled the strings of liquid with your index finger, dipping into his navel to gather some on the tips of your fingers. 

“That’s okay,” you said calmly, bending down to kiss him again. “I didn’t say I was done using you.”

Felix swallowed nervously, trying his best to hold back the inevitable tears. 

“You okay to give me one more?” You said, sliding your hand down between your legs to play with yourself. You circled your clit with his cum, gasping in pleasure at the warm sensation. 

Tears fell from his face as he nodded and waited for your instruction. 

“Good,” you said, kissing away his tears as you continued to touch yourself. “Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

Felix nodded nervously, watching intently as you finally removed your panties and spread further to take all of him. With gentle movements, you wrapped your arms around his neck, positioning over him and sliding down ever so slowly. His hands gripped your waist as he helped fill you up. 

It was a sensation Felix hadn’t been prepared for. He winced at the overstimulation, trying his best to remain semi-hard so you’d have a chance to finish. But the feeling of you gently bouncing on his cock made him cry even more, desperate to help you find your release and to hear you shower him with praise. 

“Doing so good,” you told him between breathless movements. “Kiss me.”

He obeyed, planting sloppy tear-stained kisses on your mouth as you used him for your own pleasure. He pulled away again, mouth finding its way to your breasts, where he kissed and sucked your nipples with fondness. 

And between his fervent kisses in the valley of your breasts, you found your own release, clutching his shoulders as you trembled and dribbled cum all over his length. 

You slid off of him with ease and back onto the bed, where you both took a minute to catch your breath. Felix was unsure of what to say, and you could hardly form a sentence. 

Instead you got dressed again and sat up to go to the bathroom. “Gonna get cleaned up,” you said simply. 

As you stood, Felix gripped your wrist, pulling you toward him again. “Don’t leave,” he said in a frightened tone. 

“I just need tissues,” you explained. 

“Don’t leave,” he said again, tears trickling down his face. 

“Felix, I’m just-”

“I’m in love with you,” Felix blurted out. 

Your heart raced and you took a deep breath. You stood between his legs observing the way he now let out dramatic sobs as he began to speak. 

“I’m so fucking in love with you and I can’t help it. I’ve always loved you. Ever since we were kids. You can hold me and comfort me until I stop crying but it’s not gonna change the fact that I’m crying because I love you.”

You reached a hand up, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He continued talking as he cried, the stream of consciousness giving him the confidence he’d always yearned to utilize. 

“I tried. I tried for so long with other girls, with other people. It was never the same. I thought there was something wrong with me because I’d cry so much whenever I was with you. And it never happened with anyone else. It took me years and some stupid hookups before I realized it was because I was always in love with you. 

That’s why I came back. You make me feel so damn safe all the time. I can’t taste Oreo mcflurries or raspberry chapstick without thinking of you first. I would’ve still been in love with you if you kept ignoring me. I’m still in love with you even though you have him. And I don’t know what we’re doing, but I do know that I’m in love with you. Back then, and now, and in five years time.”

He hung his head in shame, crying like a guilty child, and you towered over him in silence. He’d never felt so vulnerable before, crying in front of the girl he loved in complete nudity. 

Part of you knew this was coming- there was no denying Felix hadn’t been the most inconspicuous about his romantic feelings toward you since returning. But you couldn’t find the words to say to him, knowing anything you could say right now was only going to hurt him. You and Mark weren’t technically broken up yet, and your heart largely remained there still. You and Felix also led two completely different lives- yours, a monotonous adult routine, and his, riddled with fame and splendor. It was never going to work the way he wanted it to. This was all a fleeting thing like it had been back then- this wasn’t reality. 

“Please say something,” Felix pleaded.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “We shouldn’t have done this.”

He looked up at you through tears, hardly making out the expression on your face as the room blurred around him. And with a simple nod, he understood. You were not in love with Felix. 

With a gentle release of your wrists, he allowed you to get cleaned up, crying in front of the bathroom mirror as you rid yourself of his traces. When you returned, Felix was back in his own bed, lying on his side away from you.

Not so much as a sniffle was heard as you turned out the light again, falling asleep to his words replaying in your head like a broken record. 

*

“Did he ever make you cum? Did he ever make you cry?”

You were up early that morning, quick to shower last night’s mistake off your aching body. Felix stayed in bed facing the window, forcing himself to keep his eyes shut though he wasn’t asleep. His eyes could hardly pry themselves open anyway, now swollen and red from all the crying he’d done. 

When you finished getting dressed, you sat on the edge of your bed, staring out at the view in the daytime. The city was completely different at this time of day. People looked like little ants from this high up, and you followed their paths as they navigated the world below. Into stores, apartment buildings, even meeting for coffee. It was so human- so unpredictable where the next little ant would find themselves. So uncertain. 

You heard Felix shuffle about in bed, and you decided to go check on him for the first time, holding your breath as you made your way to his side. 

“Felix,” you said timidly. “You should eat something.”

He kept his eyes shut, furrowing his brows into a frown as he felt your hand run through his hair. 

“Not hungry,” he said in a raspy voice. 

“Come on,” you replied. “Checkout’s at 11. We’ve only got two hours to enjoy this view before we have to leave.”

Felix fluttered one eye open, looking at you for the first time since last night. His heart pained him all over again. Your hair was still damp from your shower, face free of makeup and the lingering scent of peaches on your skin. 

He exhaled through his nose, eyes wandering past you and zoning out. 

And then with some hesitation, you crawled into the unmade bed beside him, slipping under the covers and wrapping an arm around him the way you always used to. You held him like that for a minute, rubbing his arm soothingly and playing with the back of his hair. 

Felix couldn’t feel excited about any of it, too heartbroken to feel anything but sorrow in your arms now. Tears brimmed his eyes again as you lulled him into another wave of sleepiness. 

“Do you love him?” Felix broke the silence suddenly. You swallowed, finally choosing to be honest with him. It was the least you could do while he grieved. 

“Yeah. I do.”

“Does he… satisfy you?” Felix asked. You were taken aback at the question, and Felix was shocked that he brought it up. But he needed closure right now. He needed answers to the questions he’d been overthinking all week. 

“Mhm.”

He thought for a second. “Does he ever make you cry?”

It was your turn to think for a minute. “Sometimes. When we fight, I guess. It’s not often, though.”

Felix shut his eyes again, wanting to ask more questions, but feeling too tired and anguished. You continued massaging his arm, feeling his tension loosen in your touch. 

“Go back to sleep,” you said finally. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to check out.”

And he did, dozing off properly in your tender embrace.

*

When you parted ways that day, Felix knew very well he might never see you again. 

He’d messed things up by confessing how he felt, only to be met with what he’d feared all along- you were indeed in love with Mark. There was never a chance that the two of you would work out. Still, the truth pained him. The dull ache in his chest was made worse by the way you cared for him, giving his hand a little squeeze in the car and rubbing his back when he pulled you in for one last hug. He knew you were just trying to make him feel better. But deep down he was angry- at himself for not staying, at Mark for being able to call you his, even at you for being intimate with him last night. He didn’t regret it, but he did wish it ended the way he’d hoped it to. 

On the drive home, Felix had the realization that things were now different. His feelings were out there in the open, and you were free to do whatever you wanted with them. Regardless of how you felt, it meant things between you were going to change. 

He was no longer welcome to sneak into your room late at night- even as friends. He couldn’t bake you little surprises or text you at random times throughout the day. And the idea of ever kissing you again was just a distant daydream, so far out of reach it seemed like something that had never occurred in the first place. 

He wondered how you felt about the situation. And he wondered if you knew how terribly he regretted it. In an alternate universe, Felix had just let you go get cleaned up and cuddled you to sleep, pushing away the idea that you had cheated on your partner. It would have been a fleeting thing like it had always been. Like it was always supposed to be. A lingering thought made Felix consider calling you up to ask why you’d cheated on Mark if you loved him, but that would involve talking to you. 

What he didn’t know, of course, is that you weren’t in love with Mark anymore. 

*

“I hope we’re still friends, yeah I hope you don’t mind”

Standing in the living room you two shared, Mark wrapped up the last of his boxes with tape and looked over at you. The room had never felt this empty without his video game consoles or his sneakers lying around carelessly. 

“If I forget anything I’ll come by to pick it up later this week,” he said. “But that’s the most of it.”

You wiped a few stray tears. “Where are you going again?”

“I told you,” Mark said, sitting on the couch next to you and resting a hand on your thigh. “Couple friends have a room for rent just an hour from here. It’s safe. I don’t want you to worry.”

He reached up to wipe a tear with his thumb lovingly. You missed these moments- sitting on the couch together like this, only now they were tainted with heartbreak and mourning what once was. 

“Is she going to be there?” You asked after a moment. 

Mark looked down, and then back up at your face. “Do you remember when I had blue hair?” He asked suddenly. 

“What?”

“The blue hair. Arctic fresh, like you used to call it.”

You chuckled a little. That term had slipped your mind after graduation. 

“Yeah. I remember.”

“And you used to sit in the library all day.”

“Until you started stalking me.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t love it!” Mark retorted. The two of you laughed for a bit, and you almost forgot you were sad in the first place. 

“I didn’t know when you were gonna be there,” Mark continued. “I had no clue how to approach you. Hell, I didn't even know what kind of person you were gonna be.”

You listened to him as gestured with his hands. 

“That uncertainty- there was something so fun about it.”

There was that word again- one that had been on your mind lately. A lot of things felt uncertain as of right now. 

“Remember when we didn’t have a mattress?”

You shook your head. “God. Don’t remind me.” Mark laughed in response.

“We used jackets as blankets! It was fun though, wasn’t it? We thought we’d never finish furnishing the place. I kinda loved not knowing what it was going to look like yet.”

You pondered his words carefully. There was a lot of truth in them- the months you spent sleeping on the floor and eating microwave pizzas together for dinner were some of your most memorable times. You only got through it because you had hope that the future would make up for those nights. 

“You seemed happier too,” Mark said. “And I want you to be that happy all the time. I don’t want you to be scared of the future.”

You began to cry again, trembling as Mark pulled you in for a hug. 

“I don’t know how to do this without you,” you said. “This… routine. Being an adult.”

“You’ve always known how,” Mark said. “You just have to go live it. Don’t let yourself get stuck at a computer all day. Don’t let the only time you leave the house be to get coffee creamer at night.”

You smiled at him sheepishly. 

“I’m learning too,” Mark said. “I kinda want to get out of this city. Get a new job.”

You nodded. 

“And I want you to do some badass things,” he said, poking your knee and making you smile. “I want to hear all about them. But you gotta do them first!”

With a gentle sigh, you nodded again. 

Mark twiddled his fingers for a moment. 

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

“What?” You said, head snapping up to look at him. 

“Dude from the band.”

Your heart sped up, unsure of what to say. 

“I tried your parents’ house a few days ago. Two of you were headed out somewhere. Can’t believe I even recognized him, but I pieced it together.”

“Why… I mean-”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said with a reassuring shake of his head. “I want you to be happy. I wasn’t the most honest with you, either.”

After a pause, you took Mark’s hand in yours. “I’m sorry,” you said. “And I love you. And I’ll never stop loving you. Whether we’re together or not.”

He nodded at your words. “I know. And I’m sorry. I’m never out of reach- you know where to find me.”

Mark pulled you in for one last hug, crying softly into your shoulder. “Go find that happiness again,” he said. “I’ll always be here.”

After helping move his boxes to the car and exchanging your final goodbyes, you returned to the apartment, clutching the keys in hand like you did the very first time you got them.

The apartment felt quiet, yet strangely comfortable. You’d never seen so many sunbeams shine through the windows like this before- illuminating the empty corners with a hopeful glow. Despite the vacant areas, the apartment felt eerily beautiful like this. You caressed the drywall with a tender hand, thinking briefly about the potential this place always had. There were so many new spots for paintings and photos. So many opportunities to decorate again. So much to look forward to. 

*

“Swear we were only being honest”

Mark’s departure made a lot of things clear for you. You thought about what he said for days after adjusting to the empty apartment- about chasing happiness and learning to embrace the uncertainty you were always so afraid of. 

He was right. You had become a shell of the woman you once were, only existing to do work and repeat the routine that tricked you into believing it was the epitome of life itself. But it never had been- it was you who made it that way. 

Looking out your window at the empty street late at night, the only noise you could hear was the dull buzz of cicadas that stalked the tall grass.

You returned to your parents’ house for one last night to collect your things and say your goodbyes to your parents. Everything looked the same as it always did on nights like this- cars parked neatly in their spots, houses with their lights off, and neatly trimmed bushes swaying gently in the summer breeze. Your hands trembled as you climbed out the window, dressed for the weather in a light sweater and a pair of shorts. 

As you jogged out to the street, you paused to look up at the vast sky above you. The sky had never seen you this late at night like this, out in the middle of the street with such purpose. You were normally curled up with a book at this late hour.  Yet you greeted it with excitement and curiosity, laughing up at the constellations as you planted two feet in the concrete below you. 

After admiring the scenery at this time, you were on your way again, racing like a child down the block. You passed the houses you had always known, appreciating the way they were a steady part of your life for this long. You turned the corner with such vigor, you thought you might fall if you didn’t slow down. But you didn’t- you ran and ran, and you didn’t stop. 

Felix’s house was a mere three blocks from yours, yet you’d never visited in the middle of the night like this. It has always been him to initiate it. He was the risk-taker, the troublemaker, a fact you forced yourself to challenge after your conversation with Mark. 

When you arrived, you looked up at his house, unsure of what to do for a moment. You weren’t entirely sure which room was his anymore. 

So you pulled out your phone, dialing him before you could stop to overthink it. Felix answered on the second ring.

“Hi,” you breathed. 

He paused for a moment. 

“Are you… okay?”

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Could you open the window?”

“What?”

“The window. I can’t remember which one is yours- God your grass is tall. There aren't any spiders here, right?”

Before you could finish, the curtains drew back in front of the window closest to you, and Felix stood there with his cellphone pressed to his ear. He observed the way you scratched at an itch on your ankle, finally looking up to meet his gaze and giving him a little wave. 

“Aren’t you cold?” He asked, dropping his phone down at his side as you walked over. 

“Not a bit. It’s actually kinda nice out.”

He helped you climb in, and you looked around the room with wonder in your eyes. 

“Wow. I haven’t been here since we were kids.” 

The walls were lined with old photos of him, neatly arrayed in white picture frames. There was a large desk opposite his bed with old taekwondo medals hanging directly above. And his bed was neatly made, except for one corner from which Felix had untucked himself from. 

“What are you doing here?” Felix asked with hesitation. His voice was tinged with sadness still. 

You set a paper bag down on the desk, turning to face him. “Little something from me.”

Felix looked at the bag and then at you again. You eyed him for a moment, noticing his unkempt hair and the subtle bags under his eyes. His blonde locks were pushed out of his face, framing his expression of sorrow. He wore a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants, much simpler than you’d seen him dressed on other days, yet he somehow still looked so sophisticated. 

With reluctance in his step, he unfolded the bag, reaching inside to pull out a small Oreo McFlurry and a carton of fries. He examined the cup, setting it down again and avoiding eye contact. 

“I told you I don’t get these anymore.” 

“No,” you said. “You said you couldn’t get them because they brought back memories.”

He shrugged. “Yeah. What’s the difference?”

“The difference is that I’m here now. And you don’t have to stop doing all your favorite things because they bring back memories.”

“You don’t get it,” he said, sighing again. “Please don’t make me say it again.”

You hid your hands in the sleeves of your sweater, eyes trembling with fear as you began to speak. Breaking down your walls around other people was always a difficult feat for you. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” you told him. “Just please listen to me and then I’ll get out of here.”

Felix sat on the edge of the bed with his hands on his knees.

“Felix- you and I live completely different lives. You left before my life even started. Most of what I know about you I had to learn through google searches. You wake up in different countries 6 out of 7 days in the week. You know what you want, and every single day is different for you.”

“You googled me?” Felix said. You ignored his question as you continued to speak. 

“You have to understand that this never would have worked out between us.”

He hung his head and wiped a few stray tears with the back of his hand. “I kind of figured it wasn’t going to work out. You didn’t have to come here to tell me again.”

“I came here,” you interrupted him. “Because I’m in love with you.”

His head snapped up this time, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as you continued to speak through tears. 

“And it scares the hell out of me. We’re two different people in two completely different worlds, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s always been you. And it’s always going to be you. There’s no one else I’d rather get McDonald’s with at 3 in the morning. Or stain fancy tablecloths with. I love it when you do that thing where you check your pulse when you get nervous. Or when you bake me little desserts, even though I never ask you to. And I love wiping your tears after we get intimate, because I hate seeing you sad and I’d spend a lifetime wiping your tears if it meant I could be by your side.”

The room fell quiet as you finished. Felix looked up with an expression of sorrow and shock. His eyes welled with tears as he sniffled and gave you one short nod. 

“How about Mark?”

You smiled and shrugged. “Sometimes love has other plans.”

And Felix smiled for the first time tonight, stretching out both arms toward you, which you wasted no time running into. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap and holding you for a moment as you both laughed through sniffles. 

As he pulled away to look into your eyes, his thumbs wiped your tears away delicately, caressing your face in a gentle embrace. 

“I don’t want to lose you again,” he said suddenly. His expression shifted to that of concern.

“You have me right now,” you said calmly. “And we’ll figure out the rest. I don’t want to get too caught up in worrying about the future.”

He smiled again, moving a strand of hair out of your face as he leaned in to kiss you. His lips tasted like raspberry, moving gently along yours as you smiled against him. 

“What happens now?”

You thought about it for a moment. It was a good question- you hadn’t thought about where the night was going to take you after this conversation. 

“Let’s go out.” 

“Now? It’s almost 2 in the morning.”

“Now. Let’s go anywhere. I just want to be with you.”

Felix ran a hand through your hair as he chuckled. 

“You’re full of surprises tonight.”

You climbed off of him as he walked to the closet and picked out a pair of pants. And you sat watching him eagerly, afraid you might lose him if you looked away for even a second. 

When he turned around again to button his pants, he locked eyes with your tender gaze and smiled. The moonlight glistened through the window onto your skin, little blue patches painting your frame delicately like an oil painting. Your eyes sparkled with longing for him, and he smiled at the way you blinked up at him with such endearment. 

“I love you,” you said suddenly. 

“I love you,” he replied, leaning down to kiss you. “I love you. I love you. I really love you.”

When he finished getting dressed, he took your hand in his, helping you out the window and into the cool summer air. The cicadas and birds were quiet, and the only sounds you could hear came from the trees rustling in the nighttime breeze. Felix towered over you in the dim glow of the streetlights, never once looking away from the twinkle in your eyes as you spoke. And you continued, with no destination in mind, down the streets you had explored so many times as kids together. The same picket fences and concrete roads seemed so much more charming this way- hands interlocked as you stopped every now and then to exchange kisses and share spoonfuls of the now melted Oreo McFlurry. At last, you were home again- all was safe. 

*

“All by yourself, sitting alone”

The loud chime of the overhead speaker caught your attention as you meticulously worked to buckle your seatbelt. All around you, people took their seats too, children squirming with excitement and couples assisting each other with the overhead bins in the aisles. You sat alone, taking in the atmosphere as you prepared for hours of being sat here. 

Thoughts of doubt rushed to your mind as you examined a Korean pamphlet in front of you- was this the right decision? Were you going to be happy? Would you even find work there?

Your throat went dry thinking about the endless possibilities. And then you remembered Mark’s kind words echoing through you- “go chase that happiness”. 

You were never going to know if you didn’t get out there first. Maybe this was where you were always meant to be. 

In between conversations with yourself, your phone buzzed with a new text. You checked it frantically, smiling at the message.

Felix: 🐣

Your heartbeat slowed again, and you took a deep breath as you pushed your negative thoughts aside. You were finally chasing your happiness- Felix was your happiness. And maybe traveling 5,000 miles for the guy you loved seemed crazy, but it felt right. As long as you were by his side, you would face the future together. 

You shot him back a little sunshine emoji before putting your phone away again. And you shut your eyes, grateful for the gentle reminder of why you were doing this. You weren’t certain about much, but you were certain about Lee Felix. And maybe that was enough.

[chibsandchill]

A sea of longing

Fandom: Saltburn

Pairing: Felix Catton x fem!Reader 

Warnings:  Unreliable narrator (Felix), grammatical and spelling errors, mentions of Greek mythology, Felix sometimes pays attention to his lecturers, dreadfully short

Summary: Felix shares a sweet moment with you in his dorm. 

Masterlist

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

One of the last things Felix expected to miss when he started uni was his mother’s bedtime stories, the bizarre tales she spun instead of prayer. One of her favorites was the story of Echo and Narcissus, a tale wroth with obsession. 

‘You’re a beautiful boy, Felix’, she told him often enough, though her tongue was far too loose for her own good when she’d had a glass (read: bottle) of wine, ‘but it’s far better to have others admiring you instead of wasting away in front of a mirror’. 

A… spin on a cautionary tale, he was sure. 

Still, 

he found himself in that story. 

Felix couldn’t remember life without you. Perhaps there had never been. He was sure that even in all of his previous lives he had you. Or rather, you had him. Two halves of a whole torn apart by someone who envied their bond far too much. Their Juno. Only, Felix took the part of Echo and Narcissus both, he longed and longed for you, sometimes even when you were with him. He’d scream and scream and his desire would echo right back in a constant cycle of desperation. Nothing could cure the want that had dug so far in him that there was no separating Felix and his need to be closer to you. To be with you. He was drowning in the sea of longing; a sea of you, chasing every bit of you that he could reach, 

even if in the end he could only grasp the edges of your reflection. 

“Hey, where’d you go?” 

He comes back to when you brush his hair away from his forehead, letting your fingers linger on his skin. The smile is instinctual, an act so deeply rooted in instinct that just the mere mention or allusion to you forced it on him. 

Felix grabbed your hand and brought it down to rest on his shoulder before covering it with his own. 

“Go? How could I go anywhere when I’ve got a girl as pretty as you in my lap?”

You’re so close he can feel your chest rumble when you chuckle. “Flirt.” 

His lips brushed against your shoulder as he moved to rest his forehead against you. Warm and soft, like always. You smell faintly of his soap and the laundry detergent his mother insisted on. There’s a scar there somewhere from when you spent the summer at Saltburn and he’d gotten so happy to see you that he bit you.

Hard. 

One of the happiest days of his life. 

You smiling at him from over the brim of your book in the fields, the hint of metallic blood sticking to his teeth, the sun shining down on you both, gauze wrapped around your shoulder, and a constant reminder of his love for you. 

He wondered, not for the first time, if you’d let him do it again. 

He’d let you do it in a heartbeat, would tear his shirt off and present himself, and you could pick whatever part of him you wanted. Though, he’d enjoy it far more than you would. And he’d leave it uncovered, 

he wanted it to scar. 

A mark of him on you, a mark of you on him. 

An echo of an idea branded into him since childhood; a constant need to be closer. It hurt to be apart from you. It hurt to be pressed against you like this and that be the closest he could get. If he could he would burrow himself under your skin, press himself into your heart. He would mend the rift, press soft kisses against the weeping wound until his lips fell off. Press himself against you until there was naught but his warmth left fading from your skin. 

Your fingers scratch against his scalp. 

“Is it the exams?”

“No. I’ve just missed you, s’all.”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Hm. If you say so.”

“I do.”

Silence fell over the room again, and Felix basked in your presence. You were his own personal sun and he tried to leech off whatever warmth he could before he was robbed of you again. The precious moments where he could have you like this – when you were all his and he was all yours – were far and few inbetween, and each time the hunger in him grew and it got more difficult to let you go. 

“‘missed you too.” You mumbled and you gave him one last heavy blink before your head lolled back into his neck. Your breathing evened out and his heart skipped a beat as the ring on your finger came into view. 

He couldn’t wait for the day when finally he wouldn’t have to let go. 

-:-:-:-:-:-

Taglist:

@nowitsmissing, @khxna

[amelee23]

Things Stray Kids members remind me of <3

Pairing: none

Genre: poetic prose

Warnings: uh? fish? and lots of metaphors and read about koi fish pls, you might get in your feels reading this, i was a 2000's kid, i mentioned a needle like once, food

Word count: 1300

A/N: an idea i started a few months ago. I actually poured my heart into this and got tears in my eyes multiple times while writing. I feel this is actually super personal and more like a love confession to the members lmao

--------------------------------------

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ Contents:

┈┈┈► Chan - sheep

┈┈┈► Lee know - surprising acts of kindness

┈┈┈► Changbin - gold

┈┈┈► Hyunjin - band t-shirts

┈┈┈► Han - koi fish

┈┈┈► Felix - pearls

┈┈┈► Seungmin - teddy bears

┈┈┈► Jeongin - the color green

Chan reminds me of sheep.

Have you ever heard the saying of a sheep in a wolf's clothing? Well, he's the complete opposite. He wears the skin of a wolf, he carries out the actions of a leader, keeping a close eye on all his pups and making sure to lick away every wound they would get, playing around in the tricky maze of roses. He bares sharp teeth and fangs at opposers and would not stop - even at his own expense - to make sure his family is looked after. But on the inside, he's merely a sheep, maybe even a lamb. He's sociable, friendly, gentle and affectionate, and would love you wrapping your arms around his fluffy wool, petting his head and telling him how cute he is. There's a skip to his step, as he runs over to greet you over the fence, and he wouldn't mind donating his wool to you, so that in the cold harsh winters, he could aid you in staying warm and protected from the snow.

I love you, Chan.

Lee know reminds me of surprising acts of kindness.

Like that time my childhood best friend lied he needed a shopping buddy at the mall just so he can trick me into buying me a plushie for Christmas; like that time my friend sent me a surprise package all the way from another county and I had no clue about it until it arrived; like the time you receive a birthday present that is so flabbergasting that you wonder if you can force the person to take it back, for it's too good, too expensive, too unworthy of your possession. Lee know is all of those things - he's a gift that comes at no anniversary whatsoever, he's like a kiss that isn't saying anything like good-bye, hello or good morning. He's that moment when someone reads your mind and knows exactly what you need without you saying a thing, he's the tub of ice cream your friend buys to cheer you up, he's the cupcakes your mom makes because you're sad. He's like when someone offers to do your share of the workload because you're tired, he's like the person who gives you their last sandwich just because they want you to eat. Lee know is the most unexpected and yet the kindest gift one could ever receive.

I love you, Minho.

Changbin reminds me of gold.

Like the golden chandelier above a manor ceiling, he illuminates even the grandest of rooms. Like the soft golden pattern on marble, he can make any room feels like a castle. There's something royal about him, so medieval about how he keeps his morals like shield and sword. He's mighty like a gold clad king, confident and ready for battle like a knight in golden armour mounted on a white horse. He marches forward, knowing the weight of his responsibility, his decisions affect an entire kingdom. But he's not above anyone else, no. His status does not matter for he aims to be the most fair and loving king of history.

I love you, Changbin.

Hyunjin reminds me of old band t-shirts.

He's that t-shirt you bought as a kid in the 2000's, that you could barely afford and promised you'd protect with your life. It had a print catered to your favorite band, and you wore it oh so proudly to showcase to everyone how much you loved their music. It wasn't just a fashion statement though, it wasn't just to look cool (although it made you feel like a badass). You were wearing your heart on your sleeve, and if someone made fun of you and your interests, the band you expressed your personality through, you'd get upset. But it would be worth it, because one day you'd meet someone who wore that same shirt and think, oh you're just like me. You understand me. But even though you took so much care of it, the shirt, now sitting in the back of your wardrobe, has some tiny paint stains on it only you can notice. It reminds you of the courage of expression you once had, in a world where everyone is terrified to show who they really are. You would never want to erase that part of your past, it is still a part of you.

I love you, Hyunjin.

Han reminds me of koi fish.

They're cold water fish, but cannot live in freezing waters. So then why is he, a different color, a different species, struggling to breathe in the freezing waters of other fish, which are not of his kind? He's often felt out of place, uncomfortable and hurt in this world he's been put in, like an alien of sorts. But someone so special and vibrant should be adored, should be the subject of art and poetry, should be kept in a warm mystery of fantasy. He belongs with those who will appreciate every color he wears in his soul, those who accept the beauty of someone so complex and unique - so that he too, can become a dragon.

I love you, Jisung.

Felix reminds me of pearls.

He's the white shiny beads you put on a friendship bracelet. Next to the round imitations of pearls there are other beads, with mismatching colors, and then - there's an initial of the friend you love the most. But the thing is, you, with an untrained eye in jewelry, you wouldn't be able to tell if the bead you carry is made out of mere plastic or picked out from the seabed by a mermaid of folktale, who has blessed your pearl with eternal love; perhaps what you carry around your wrist is something humanity has never seen before, something humanity cannot even put a price tag upon! But how can you accept such gift, so rare and mystical...? The sea deities have whispered that they want you to have it, they wish you to know how precious it is to love.

I love you, Felix.

Seungmin remind me of teddy bears.

The type you've loved way too much, and tried to take care of like your own child even though you were a kid yourself and knew nothing about parenting. When the teddy got a stain, you'd cry, you couldn't bear to see it in a washing machine; your parents would have to hand wash it and you'd stay close to make sure he doesn't get harmed; and if the teddy needed a stitch, it would be the end of the world - it's like the needle pierced your own skin, you could feel its pain. And when you grow older, you promised the teddy to never forget about him; but in the end, you still did. And years and years later, when you see him again, dusty and ruffled by age, with stitches and stains, you love him all the same, even though he's flawed, even though you couldn't keep him perfect, even though you hurt him, even though the world changed him. He's still your perfect childhood love in your eyes.

I love you, Seungmin.

Jeongin reminds me of the color green.

Like a fantastical eternal summer, the grass is always green. The leaves are always young, never to grow rusted, for autumn does not exist. Leaves don't fall, flowers don't wilt, the world is forever young, beautiful and warm. You can't understand it, the magic of this world - it's a mystery he keeps close to his heart. Maybe there's a large price he must pay to keep this up, but he'll never tell. For to him, all that ever matters is that everyone can smile. We can have picnics on the flower fields, we can take shade under the willow trees, we can sip on mint flavoured ice tea and weave baskets full of memories blessed by the sun and its eternal flame. And around our necks, there's an emerald necklace, said to protect us from all evil in the world.

I love you, Jeongin.

---------------------------------------------------

oop i confessed my love

What do the Stray Kids members remind YOU of? Let me know!

If you like my work, consider donating to me so I can continue writing!

[urfavskzlvr]

I’m basically making this for myself but I need my opinion out there.

NICKNAMES FOR SKZ (bc I’m in love)

Fluff, gender neutral pronouns 🤗

BANGCHAN

- We all know my mans loves being coddled and cared for because he’s the oldest and he wants to feel taken care of.

- Baby boy 100%

- He would melt Every. Single. Time.

- Just a quick “yeah I’ll be right back, baby boy” and he’s doing his adorable upside down smile.

- And if you called him baby boy in front of anyone else, oh he would get so shy and red.

- he’s just so infatuated with every time you refer to him at all.

- He’s so soft for you RAHHHH!

- Chrissy

- I can’t get it out of my head

- “I love you too, Chrissy”

- AHHHHHHHH

- He would perish

MINHO

- this is my personal opinion but I HATE that everyone calls him kitten and shit like that LIKE EWWWW

- Minho is 100% so soft for you, and you alone

- He’s your man

- He loves being yours

- if you say like “oh that’s my man” or “he’s mine” he would fall apart

- MY boyfriend, MY man

- He’s always all over you and always so happy that he’s yours and you’re his

- Minah (min-ah)

- basic but it does things to him

- “could you hand me that, Minah?”

- he would smirk and get red

- maybe do his cute little chuckle

CHANGBIN

- HES SO SOFT AND IN LOVE WITH YOU

- Handsome

- He loves knowing that *HE* is handsome for *YOU*

- “you did such a good job, handsome”

- Basic but he’s so in love he doesn’t care

- he wants you to call him handsome in front of everyone

- it gives him an ego boost

- “hehe they said *I’M* so handsome”

- sweet boy

- OH. MY. GOSH. He would cling to you constantly

- He would do nice things on purpose just to hear sweet boy come out of your mouth

- “Awe, you really didn’t have to. Thank you sweet boy”

- he would have a bad day and then you call him sweet boy and he has a smile on his face for the rest of the night

- it would make him turn pink

HYUNJIN

- RAHHHH

- My boy loves being pretty for you

- PRETTY PRINCE

- It makes him feel special and honestly a little cocky

- “well they call me their pretty prince so beat that” or “I think you should listen because I’m the prettiest prince”

- he’s so cute about it

- he returns the nickname and calls you his highness

- Lover

- Look at our hopeless romantic baby

- Of course he’s your lover and you are his

- you introduce him to people as your lover and he just smiles and turns pink

- when you’re sleepy and just wake up

- “good morning my lover”

- He would smile big so his eyes would shut

JISUNG

- I’m about to go wild

- Princess

- first he liked it as a joke but now his heart is full every time you say it

- “how are you today, Princess?”

- he would turn so red every time

- he’s so pretty how could you not call him princess?

- he would get so shy if you called him princess in front of his friends

- cutie boy/cutie guy

- he’s such a cutie boy like RAHHHHH

- the first time you said it he looked at you and asked if you really thought he was cute

- “such a cutie little guy” or “good job, cutie boy”

- that could just be my love for praise talking BUT WHATEVER

- his eyes would sparkle every time those words come out of your mouth

YOU CANT TELL ME HES NOT THE CUTIEST!

FELIX

- IM GONNA GO MORE WILD

- ANGEL

- LOOK AT HIM BRO OF COURSE HES AN ANGEL

- HES THE SWEETEST LITTLE LAD I EVER DID SEE

- IF I THINK ABOUT HIS CUTIE LITTLE SMILE TOO MUCH, I FEEL LIKE I CANT BREATHE

- Ahem sorry about that

- “Did you eat today, Angel?”

- he would smile and kiss your face

- he would blush all the time

- Felix is 100% a shy little guy

- “Don’t embarrass me right now. We are in public” after you call him pretty and he starts turning red

- BABY DOLL

- I WILL NEVER EVER EVER EVER SHUT UP ABOUT IT

- “come on baby doll, it’s time for bed”

- Felix is a sleepy guy and my heart is so full for him

- he would cuddle up with you and keep you warm

- he would nuzzle his head against your chest

- I COULD CRY RN

IM SO SOFT FOR WIDE EYED LIXIE 😭

SEUNGMIN

- I see people call him puppy and I wholeheartedly agree

- He’s so puppy

- He’s used to stays and his members calling him a puppy but the minute it comes out of your mouth…

- puppy Minnie AHHHHH

- his eyes would be so wide and sparkle every time you say anything

- “how was dinner, puppy?”

- I see people saying all the time “meany Seungmin” NUH UH

- “he would call you an idiot in an endearing way” NO. He would worship you

- Seungmin is sweet for you and you only

- you are HIS

- min min

- SO ENDEARING HE WOULD ALMOST CRY THE FIRST TIME YOU SAY IT

- It’s such a cutesy name for him

- his heart explodes everytime you tussle his hair

- “did you have a good day, min min?”

- he would bounce like a hyper puppy and nod smiley

- also I know he loves nose kisses idk why but I KNOW

JEONGIN

- SWEETIE/SWEETHEART

- I FEEL IT IN MY BONES

- you two would go to the store to get food

- “how does this sound, sweetheart?” Or “you hungry for this, sweetie?”

- he smiles and nods cutely

- IM A SUCKER FOR THE LITTLE GUY

- No one really thinks too much of the nickname but it has his cheeks red and his hands sweaty

- how do we feel about ‘little fox’?

- BECAUSE I CAN TELL YOU HOW I FEEL

- HE IS SUCH A LITTLE FOX HES SO AHHHHH

- he hears you call him your little fox while you’re talking on the phone and he comes behind you and hugs you

- “he’s my little fox and I love him so much”

- He tells the members that you call him that and then he gets mad if anyone else tries to call him by that nickname

- “I’m THEIR little fox, not yours”

I COULD CRY

Thank you for coming to my tedtalk

[lina-linny]

Things i thought as a baby stay:

Bang chan:

i thought he was a old man. I didn't expect him to be foive. Sorry this was neccesary.

At first i wasn't able to see his beauty but the longer i looked at him the more i fell in love. And here i am. Head over heals for this man.

I thought he would be a good dad and i still think this is true.

I thought he was like the biggest music Genius in our Generation. I was so surprised as i found out he writes all this mega songs.

2. Lee know:

i was scared by his laugh. But at the same time i wanted to hear it all the time.

Thought he looked like a guini pick.

I thought he is quite the polite guy. I really saw him as an big gentleman.

I thought that he was strange and i didn't like him that much at the beginning because he seemed a little cold. But wrong. He is so heart warming.

3. Changbin:

the "i am groot" thing changed my whole sight of him... i thought he is very scary after i saw the Video. I was a little bit traumatised. I don't even know why.

I was a little less scared as i found out that he and Wooyoung from ateez are friends.

I thought he really got an glow up. With al this muscles he looks very good. It suits him. And usually i don't really like guys with so much muscles.

I thought that he treated all his member so nice. He is so caring and i really hoped, that he gets all this love back.

4. Hyunjin:

his visuals took me off guard. I thought, that he might be the most beautiful person on earth. I watched the stray kids family video and fell even more for him. Like did you guys saw this?!

I thought if you gossip about something Hyunjin would be the first person to be like "honey spill the tea"

i thought Hyunjin would be the baby-girl every group has (something like the secret makne) but nope.

Some times i thought that he is a bit cold. But what the fuck, why did i think this??

5. Han:

I thought he looked like a frog. Sorry quokka you have to turn into a frog because i thought this!

I thought he was the makne. Cause so many members treated him and felix like their liddle babys.

Just because. I don't know why. Thought he looked like an exelent cook.

I thought that he must have manny siblings because off the way he talked to the other members. Like they are all his family. And he was never used to something else.

6. Felix:

I thought he would probably be a good modle. Turns out he is... his modle walk stabbed me.

I thought that he was so beautiful. His visuals killed me at first sight.

And like every stay i thought that his voice is so crazy like what the duck, why does he sound like an demon and looks like an angle the same time.

Sorry for this but i thought he was a little over raited. Because literally every stay had felix as their bias (also me) and i was scared that the other members don't get enough love.

7. Seungmin:

I thought he looked like an beluga whale. Sorry but this was legitt how i memorised him. I don't even know how i came up with this.

I thought he would be a good friend, because... just look at him.

I thought that he was a bit rude because he and some other members used to insult each other. Like i don't know what this is sorry.

I thought he would be a good police officer. Without context just take this.

8. I.n.

I thought he looked like an meanie. Sorry but i really imagined him as an "bullie"

I thought that he is very confident. I just saw him and thought "oh this guy must be very confident bro" i don't know why.

I thought that he would be a class clown. Just teas you all day, be quiet but when he sais something the whole class/group laughs.

I was really confused by I.n. because why did they give him THIS stage name?

ps. i love you

[amor1st03]

Flowers | Seo Changbin

Seo Changbin x fem!reader

office au, colleagues to lovers, friends to lovers, fluff, secret admirer sorta stuff

warnings: some swearing, a few suggestive remarks, bit of alcohol use but not main two love interests, that's it I believe, as always lmk if I missed anything

word count: 5.1k

in which: someone leaves flowers and notes at your desk, you're not sure who it is but there is one guy you're hoping it to be

a/n: based specifically on this cute flower almanac thing I found, I'll put a pic below. This is pretty much just me trying to daydream and romaticise my shitty 9-5 tbh, anyway, enjoy!

Skz masterlist

You were certain you were the only person in the world who actually liked Mondays. You were shocked, at first, when you found yourself actually looking forward to getting up and going to work. It was, after all, just a regular office job. What could ever make this exciting? You always used to ask yourself.

But that all changed the day the flowers started appearing.

Every Monday morning, when you got to your desk, you found some sort of flower laying on your desk. Sometimes it was a rose, sometimes a tulip, other times a carnation. But it was always accompanied by a post-it note with words of motivation or a compliment. The notes continued throughout the week, always leaving a smile on your face, the words written with such precision to try and make it harder for you to find out who exactly was leaving them.

This Monday morning was no different as you picked up the lily that was placed on your desk, reading the note that was beside it. 'You're not here at the time I'm writing this note, but I already know you look pretty today, you always do.' You couldn't help but smile at the note as you felt your cheeks warm slightly at the words of affection.

"Another flower from mystery loverboy?" Felix asked as he sat down at his desk beside you. "What's it say today?" You handed him the note, not even looking at him as you twirled the flower in your hand.

"God, that's so cute but nauseating at the same time," Felix said after reading the post-it, handing it back to you. "Who do you think it is? Seungmin? Minho from IT maybe?"

"I'm not sure. I'm hoping one day they'll say something that will give me a hint as to who they are."

"It doesn't really matter who they are, though, I know who you want it to be. Ch-"

"Shut up."

"Cha-"

"Felix, don't you dare say it."

"Changbin."

"Felix, be quiet, he might hear you." You slyly turned your head to look at Changbin who was sitting only a few desks down from yours. You were pleased to see he was too busy typing away on his keyboard to overhear your conversation with Felix.

"Just give it up already, Y/N, and tell him how you feel."

"No way, not gonna happen."

"Please, you're not the one who hears him talk about just how great you are. 'Y/N's so good at her job, Y/N's always so lovely' blah blah blah. It's obvious your feelings are reciprocated."

"He's just being nice but that doesn't mean he feels the same way, will you just drop it?" Felix rolled his eyes but turned to look at his computer screen before you continued. "I'm gonna make myself a cup of tea, do you want anything?"

"I'm good, thanks." He sighed, still frustrated about the fact that you wouldn't just come right out and tell Changbin that you've thought about him every day since your first day at the office.

You still remembered the soft smile he gave you as he introduced himself and the way it warmed your heart. 

"It's really nice to meet you, Y/N." The way your name rolled off his tongue sounded like music. That was the first time you had ever thought your own name was beautiful.

You headed to the office kitchen, got a cup, and made yourself a drink. Your mind drifted off to Changbin again. 

"Hi," A familiar voice said behind you. You jumped a little, turning around to see the very man you were daydreaming about. "Woah, sorry, didn't mean to startle you, Y/N." There it was again, your name slipping from his mouth ever so beautifully. It felt like a cool breeze on a warm day, relaxing you. 

"Oh, hi, Changbin, sorry, I was away with my own thoughts for a moment there." You laughed awkwardly.

"It's alright. I do it all the time, sitting at my desk and staring at the screen. I swear half the work I get done I don't even remember doing."

"Honestly, I'm the exact same, the only thing that keeps me from my daydreams is Felix. I love the guy but he never stops talking."

"Well, he keeps things interesting."

"Yeah, I'm just waiting for the day he runs out of things to say."

"I don't think that's possible."

"You two can stop talking about me now," Felix's voice interrupted your conversation from the entrance of the kitchen as he walked into the room.

"I do not talk too much, you're just boring, Y/N." 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Why are you in here, I thought you didn't want a drink?"

"I don't you were just taking forever so I came to make sure you didn't get lost."

"Felix, I've worked here for 2 years, I can't get lost."

"Can too. You're a bit dumb sometimes."

"Rude."

"But anyways, I see you're not lost, just busy talking. I'll leave you two to flirt." He turned on his heel as Changbin blushed at his words.

"We, uh, we weren't-"

"Felix, we weren't flirting!"

"Sure, and I'm the King of England. Keep it PG, we're in an office, any poor soul could walk in on you too."

"I hate him," You said to Changbin.

"He's really got no filter whatsoever, huh?"

"He's absolutely insane."

"Anyway, moving on..." Changbin tried to break the tension between the two of you. "Are you excited about the work party on Friday?"

"About the booze, yes, about the social interaction, no."

"It's fine, we could probably find some room to hide out in together. We'll keep that from Felix, of course, God knows what rumours he'll spread."

"Yes, that would be wise." You nodded in agreement. "Well, I'll leave you to it then, better get back to my desk."

"Yeah, stop Felix from talking Jeongin's ear off." You both laughed lightly.

"Yeah, I'll see you 'round." You moved away from him, not really wanting to leave. You wanted to stay with him and just talk forever but work called. With one last smile, you left the kitchen.

***

"Well, 5 o'clock, I'm off. You wanna walk out together?" Felix asked, signing off from his computer.

"No, I need to work over to get this done."

"Okay, well don't overwork yourself, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Alright, see you later."

This was your usual routine, most of the days you ended up staying later than you probably should do, trying to finish projects and documents, trying to meet deadlines. Besides, it gave you more over time and put you in the manager's good books. Changbin had a similar routine, he would stay and the two of you would end up walking to your cars together. 

Today was no different. After about an hour you logged off and began packing your bag.

"Are you staying any longer?" You asked the man sitting a few desks down.

"No, I think I'm done for the day. Wanna walk out together?" He always seemed to finish just as you did. His timing was perfect.

"Always." You finished packing up, not forgetting to place the note in your bag, and picked up the flower. You both left the office together, walking to the car park, enjoying each other's company. You twirled the flower in hand, looking at the man beside you. How desperately you wished it was from him. 

"You still haven't figured out who's leaving them then?" Changbin asked you. When they first started appearing, it was the talk of the office. Everyone was trying to figure out who left them. After a few weeks, people grew bored. Now only you and Felix pondered on who it could possibly be.

"Nope. I'm honestly no closer than I was on day one. I should probably come in early one day but I don't really wanna catch him in the act and startle him or something, you know? I'm kinda hoping he'll come forward and tell me himself." Changbin nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, I get that. Is there someone you hope it is?" 

"Hmmm, not telling."

"Well, I'm taking your silence as a yes."

"Hey!" He chuckled a little at your outburst.

"I'm sure you'll find him eventually."

"Yeah, I hope so." Did he feel the tension in the air the way you did? You weren't sure. But your heart felt a little heavier after his questioning. How could it be him when he seemed so genuine in his questioning?

"What do you do with all the flowers and the post-its anyway?"

"It probably sounds really cringy but I keep them. I press the flowers using books, I used to love doing that as a kid and now it comes in handy. I keep most of the post-its in a little box but the ones that are particularly sweet or motivating I stick around my room. It's nice to wake up and see them and know that no matter what somebody sees me and cares. I don't know that probably sounds really stupid and overly sentimental."

"No, I think it's really nice."

"Tell that to Felix. He never stops teasing me for it. He thinks I should just interrogate everyone in the office until someone confesses."

"Well, it's not a bad idea."

"Don't agree with him. He's become a bad influence on you." You had reached your car now. You wished you had parked further down. 

"Welp, here's my car."

"Yeah, I'm parked a few spots down. So I'll get off. See you tomorrow, then."

"See you tomorrow, Binnie." He smiled at the nickname.

***

Friday finally rolled around and the night of the work party. You were at home now after a long day at work, getting ready. You looked at the post-it notes stuck to your wall. Reading the note from Monday, you smiled to yourself. 

Your manager had booked a ballroom at some fancy hotel that wasn't too far from your apartment so you decided you'd walk there and get a taxi home. You slipped on your heels, looking in the mirror one last time to make sure you looked alright. Putting on your cardigan and grabbing your purse, you left your apartment and made your way to the party. 

Once you were there you found Felix sitting at a table. 

"Oh my god, Y/N, hi. Wow, you look so good!"

"Thanks, Lix," You said, sitting down next to him. You looked at him, noting how flushed his cheeks were.

"Do you wanna dance? We should dance right now."

"Are you drunk already?"

"No. Okay, maybe just like the tiniest bit."

"How?! The party has only just begun."

"Well, I got here early so I sat at the bar and had some pre-drinks. And I may have also had a few pre-pre-drinks while getting ready. Okay, fine I'm drunk, but so what? Isn't that what these things are for?"

"I'm pretty sure these things are for celebrating the work of our company." You laughed a little.

"Pffft whatever spoilsport, just go get yourself a drink."

"In a bit. I don't want one right now." The music faded as you turned to the small stage at one end of the room. The manager had a microphone in hand and began to speak, thanking everyone for their hard work and talking about how well the company was doing. It wasn't much different from his usual speeches so your mind couldn't help but drift away. You turned to look around the room, searching for one person in particular in the crowd. You found Changbin sat only a few tables down, noticing how he was already looking in your direction. You both quickly turned your heads away, feeling flustered. The speech concluded and the music started playing again, so loud you could barely hear yourself think. Food and drinks were passed around as people began to dance. You quickly grew bored of the scene and you were not particularly in the mood to drink (couldn't be me).

"Hey, I'm gonna go dance with Hyunjin, you go talk to Changbin, he's been checking you out all evening." You felt your cheeks grow hot from his words.

You watched your friend leave the table and make his way to the dance floor. You thought back to his words, looking around again for Changbin. He was standing, leaning against the wall on the other side of the room, watching everyone on the dance floors. You felt a sudden burst of confidence as you made your way over to him. He turned his head to look at you as you approached, a soft smile gracing his lips.

"Hi," You shouted over the music.

"Hi. You look absolutely beautiful, Y/N."

"Thanks. You looked handsome too. I love a man in a suit." He blushed at your words.

"Thanks. So, uh, not drinking tonight?"

"Nope, not in the mood. What about you?" You asked as you leaned on the wall beside him.

"Not drinking. I can't, I'm driving."

"Ah, I see." The two of you stayed in a comfortable silence for a little while, just watching the rest of your colleagues enjoying their night. Changbin turned to you, breaking the silence.

"The speech is done, that's the important part so do you, maybe, wanna get out of here?"

"Absolutely." With a smile on his face, he led you out of the hotel and to his car. 

"Where are we going?" You asked as he pulled out of the parking space.

"It's a surprise."

"You're not about to take me somewhere really secluded and scary to murder me are you?" He chuckled and shook his head.

"No. Just trust me, alright?"

"I'm only joking. I do trust you." 

The drive wasn't long but it was peaceful. The soft hum of the radio, the flashing city lights passing you by. Changbin parked up on a quiet street across from a small park.

"Secluded and scary. Oh god, I was right wasn't I?" He rolled his eyes playfully at your words. As you stepped out of the car, the cold breeze hit you. You began shivering as Changbin walked around the car to stand by your side.

"Hey, are you cold?"

"A little but I'll be alright."

"Here, take my jacket."

"No, then you'll be cold. I have my cardigan, I'll be fine."

"That thin cardigan clearly isn't helping. Here." He slipped off his jacket, pulling it over your shoulders. "Come on." The jacket was warm, but when he took your hand, you felt a chill run up your spine. Without another word, he guided you to the park. Still hand-in-hand, the two of you walked along the dimly lit path. If you had been here alone, with nothing but the wailing wind keeping you company, you would have been scared. But with Changbin beside you, you felt at ease.

"So, where exactly are we going?"

"You'll see, we're almost there."

As you continued to walk, you looked around the park. There was a small playground with swings and a slide and a see-saw. The two swings were gently swinging in sync, in the breeze, much like your intertwined hands. The leaves of the trees that lined the path rustled, making music for the grass to dance to in the wind. The stars in the sky above twinkled down as if they were looking at the two of you. For a moment you were certain that outside of the park the rest of the world had stopped. It was just the two of you.

"Here we are," Changbin said as you neared a rather large greenhouse. He opened the door and held it for you as you thanked him and walked inside. He followed you in and flicked a switch, turning on small fairy lights that lit up the place. The moonlight still streamed in through the glass roof, allowing more light. The greenhouse was bursting with colour from all the flowers. 

You walked around the place, fingers dancing from flower to flower, delicately touching the soft petals.

"It's beautiful," You said as Changbin came to stand next to you. The moonlight lit up his feature well, you were certain he was what people envisioned when they told stories of great and handsome gods. His skin looked softer than the petals of any of the flowers in the greenhouse, you longed to reach out and stroke his cheek, kiss it, anything. 

You turned to watch his hands as he picked up a small pair of shears and reached out, cutting a flower off.

"What're you doing? You can't just take a flower!"

"Relax, I know the gardener here. She's this lovely, little old woman called Mrs. Kang. When I was in high school I used to come to this park all the time and, well, you know what rowdy teenage boys are like. I was a stupid kid and did stupid stuff. I once got caught vandalising one of the walls in the park and they said I had to pay back the damages by working here. At first, I hated it but Mrs. Kang was really sweet and even after I had paid it off I continued to come here every Sunday to help out. I still do, even if it's just to chat with her. I tell her everything, I talk about my family, my job, you." As the words left his lips, your head whipped up to look at him. His eyes met yours.

"You've told her about me?" You asked quietly.

"Yes, of course, I have." 

"Why?" You asked. He handed you the flower, a red tulip.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" You stayed silent. "You know, at home, I have this old book of flowers and their meanings that Mrs. Kang gave me. In it, it says a red tulip can symbolise a declaration of love."

"It's you. You've been leaving the flowers and the notes for me."

"Yes. I was a coward at first, I couldn't admit to you my feelings. It was Mrs. Kang that suggested that I start leaving the flowers, build my confidence then confess. So, every Sunday, when I came here, I would pick a flower for you, ready for Monday. Honestly, I would have continued just leaving you the flowers and the notes but I decided it was time to tell you last Monday when you told me you wanted whoever it was that was leaving the flowers to come forward and tell you, rather than you having to figure it out. And, here we are."

"I can't believe it's you."

"I have no idea if you feel anything for me at all, but it was time I confessed. I'm sorry if you don't feel the same. If you want to forget this ever happened, we can. I'll stop sending the flowers, I'll leave you alone, it's alright."

"Changbin, I always wanted it to be you." He looked at you in shock for a moment, processing your words before a big smile appeared on his face.

"Really?"

"Always. I'm surprised you haven't heard Felix teasing me about you, he isn't very subtle about it."

"I can't believe you feel the same." He took a step closer to you.

"You better believe it, you can't get rid of me now." You placed your arms around his shoulders as he wrapped his own around your waist.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He smiled down at you before slowly leaning in. The anticipation of waiting for his lips to meet yours nearly killed you but, when they finally did, you knew it had been worth the wait. You'd wait forever and a day for him. Your lips fit so perfectly together, the way your hands had done before. The feeling in your stomach couldn't be described as just butterflies or fireworks, it felt more like a flood. A great flood of love and desire and yearning. 

As you pulled away from him, your hand moved up to his cheek. His skin was soft, just like you knew it would be. You looked at him and thought, yes, the universe or god or mother nature or whatever else could possibly be out there took their time making him.

"I'll drive you home," He whispered but made no move to pull away any further.

***

When you had finally made it back to the car, your lips were swollen from stolen kisses and your hand warm from where it was interlocked with his. The drive home was possibly even more peaceful than the one to the park. His hand rested on your thigh for the majority of it and you had to keep reminding him to keep his eyes on the road. But the gentle smile he sent your way every time he looked at you made your heart skip a beat.

He parked up, outside your apartment building, walking you to your room. When you reached your front door you turned to look at him again, pulling him into an embrace. The two of you stayed like that, gently swaying. 

"I don't want to let you go," He whispered.

"Don't. Stay over."

"You sure?"

"Of course." You unlocked your front door before going to fetch him some clothes. You found an oversized shirt and sweatpants that were baggy on you, hoping they would fit him. You showed him to the bathroom, allowing him to get changed while you went to your own room and got changed yourself. When you opened the door of your room you found him standing in the living room waiting for you. The clothes fit him perfectly and there was something so natural about him being here. 

"Come on, let's get some sleep," You told him and with a smile, he walked into your room. You switched on the lamp on your bedside cabinet before pulling back your covers, ready to get in. He glanced around, noticing his notes on the walls.

"You're really obsessed with me, huh?" He teased as you.

"Says the perv leaving me messages in secret."

"Shush, you know you love me."

"I do love you."

"Well, it's a good thing I love you too." And with that, you took his hand, pulling him to your bed, switching off the lamp. You both snuggled up, your head leaning against his shoulder while his hand had a gentle but firm grip on your waist. Your hand came to rest on his chest, above his heart where you could feel it racing.

"You're heart's racing."

"Do you really blame me? The girl of my dreams has just told me that she loves me too and now we're cuddling together in her bed."

"You dream of me, do you?" You teased. Changbin was glad your room was dark so you couldn't see the way his cheeks flushed.

"Shut up." You both laughed. Taking his hand, you placed it above your own heart.

"Mine's the same."

***

When Monday rolled around you were a little disappointed to see there was no flower at your desk this time. Of course, things were going to change but you were glad. Now you could hug him and kiss him and hold his hand. But still, the lack of a flower at your desk made your heart drop a little. Brushing it off you headed to the kitchen to make your usual cup of tea. 

As you stirred your tea, you felt a hand come to rest on your waist. You turned and smiled to see Changbin.

You had only seen him the other day. He ended up staying all of Saturday, the night after the confession, only leaving on Sunday because, true to his word, he went to see Mrs. Kang at the greenhouse.

"Good morning, beautiful."

"Good morning, handsome." His other hand came from behind his back, holding a cluster of flowers.

"Didn't think I'd forget did you?" You smiled brightly, taking them from him.

"What are these ones? What do they mean?"

"Apple blossoms. They mean 'I prefer you before all.'" Your smile somehow got even wider.

"You're so cheesy."

"I know," He stated, taking a step closer, placing his hands on the counter, either side of you. 

"Changbin, we're at work."

"I don't care." He smirked at you. You weren't going to argue, you didn't want to. Instead, you trailed your fingers up his chest, coming to play with his collar. The tension was heavy in the air and you couldn't bare it any longer so you pulled him towards you, kissing him.

"Oh shit, my eyes!" The two of you broke apart, turning to see Felix dramatically covering his eyes. "Are you done? Please tell me you're done."

"Piss off, Felix," You both said in unison.

"How about you two piss off and get a room! This is a public place, I don't wanna walk in on you two making a baby one day!"

"You're so dramatic, it was just a kiss."

"Do I have to give you the boy talk? Kissing leads to other things and before you know it, boom! You've got a kid."

"I've already got a kid, you." You rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah whatever. Just keep the PDA to a minimum when I'm around."

"Leave, Felix."

"Okay, alright. before I go, Changbin, we're friends but if you even think about hurting her, don't forget, I know where you live." He went to walk away and you laughed a little, resting your forehead on Changbin's chest. "Oh, and use protection!" 

***

The entire day at work you couldn't stop yourself from glancing over at Changbin, only to find him already looking at you with a smile. The entire office knew about the two of you by the end of the day because you could not stop talking about each other. You didn't want to keep it a secret, you had kept secrets long enough.

"Welp, home time!" Felix said happily as he switched his computer off. "You staying again?"

"Yes."

"Oh, maybe I should stay, monitor you two." Felix eyed Changbin a couple of seats down.

"Oh my god, Felix," You whined.

"I'm only joking, have fun." He stood up and collected his things. "Not too much fun." He pointed a warning finger at you as you rolled your eyes but smiled genuinely at him. 

You continued to work, chatting to Changbin the entire time.

"I'm sorry about Felix earlier," You said to him as the two of you packed up, ready to leave.

"It's alright, he just cares about you, I get it." He held out his hand for you which you gladly took. Changbin swung your hand a little as he led you out of the building.

"I told Mrs. Kang what happened on Friday night, how I finally confessed, and she wants to meet you. So, if you're up for it, this Sunday, do you want to come with me to the greenhouse?" 

"I would love to, it's a date."

***

As you and Changbin strolled through the park, the sight of the greenhouse in the distance brought back fond memories of that night. You were so excited to meet Mrs. Kang. From Changbin's stories, you could tell she was a lovely woman.

"Changbin, hi!" Mrs. Kang said enthusiastically as you and Changbin entered the greenhouse. "And this must be Y/N! You were right, she is beautiful."

"Thank you, it's so nice to meet you. Changbin has told me so much about you."

"All nice things I hope."

"Don't worry, I'll scold him if he ever says one bad word against you."

"I like you already. Well, I should say even more. I feel as if I already know you from everything he's told me about you."

"Does he really talk about me that much?" You looked at him with a teasing smile.

"Can you not talk about me as if I'm not right here? I'm starting to regret introducing the two of you already."

"Oh hush, this is girl talk. Now be a dear and go fill up the watering cans," Mrs. Kang shushed Changbin. He sighed but gave you a loving smile before leaving to do what she said.

"You know, since the first day you started working with him, he has not shut up about you, truly."

"I have a friend who claims that I always talk his ear off about Changbin."

"You two are so similar, I honestly think you're meant to be."

"Oh, well, thank you, it means a lot."

For the next few hours, you and Changbin helped Mrs. Kang with planting and watering everything in the greenhouse. You continued to talk with Mrs. Kang as she told you stories about Changbin from his teenage days all the way up to now.

"I could tell you all his embarrassing stories but we'd be here until next Sunday."

"Please, no more stories," Changbin begged.

"No, I think you should definitely tell me all his embarrassing stories, ignore him."

When the light began to fade and you all started packing away the gardening equipment. Changbin was at the sink, washing the dirt off of his hands. Mrs. Kang smiled fondly at him before turning to you.

"He told me all about Friday, and the red tulip, everything. I gave him the book with all the flower meanings a long time ago but he never brought any of it up. It was only after he fell for you that he started admiring the flowers for their meanings, not just their beauty. Every time he picked a flower out for you, he chose it with such delicacy, making sure the meaning was true to his feelings. I had always wanted him to use the book for a good reason. I'm glad that reason was you." As she spoke, you watched the man. The man you had worked with for years. The man you had been in love with for years. The man who carefully chose flowers, with meanings of love and admiration, just for you.

"I'm glad I found him. Someone who could love me so deeply and purely." Mrs. Kang smiled.

"You ready to go?" Changbin asked as he walked towards the two of you.

"Yep." You held out your hand for him and he took it.

"Come back anytime, Y/N, it was lovely to meet you."

"I definitely will come back, I've had a great day and it was lovely to meet you too. Get home safely." The two of you bid Mrs. Kang goodbye and left, hand-in-hand once again.

"Here. I was gonna save it till tomorrow but I can't help myself." He handed you a flower. You took it, a daisy this time, gazing at its beauty with a smile

"I love daisies."

"Yeah? I'm glad. It's small and simple, I know, but it describes my feelings perfectly."

"Oh yeah? And how's that."

"Well, a daisy simply means, I love you truly.”

[bbyquokka]

hi! i hope you’re having a lovely day/night 💖

Pillow talk with felix x shy s/o consisting of hugs, kisses, counting freckles and butterfly kisses 😩

so cute! ;-; i you have a lovely day/night too, anon! 🖤

FLUFF BELOW CUT

warnings: gn!reader, implications of a previous intimate moment, pet names, a lot of fluff!

“how are you feeling, love?” Felix shuffles onto his side to look at you. you blush softly, nuzzling into the duvet as you look at him.

“im feeling good, lixie.”

“i didn't go too hard on you, did i?” you shake your head no fast, the pink tint slowly turning red.

“no. it was perfect.”

“you're perfect.”

“oh, shut up.” you mumble, covering your face with your hands.

“hey” Felix lifts himself up, removing your hands from your face “dont hide that beautiful face of yours.” you whimper softly, nodding before letting out laughs and soft squeals due to Felix planting kisses all over your face.

forehead, temple, the bridge and tip of your nose, cupid's bow and lastly, your lips.

you hum, kissing back before Felix rests his head back onto the pillow. you shuffle close to you, resting on his pillow as he smiles lovingly at you.

“why did you pick me, lix?” you question out of curiosity.

“i didn't pick you, baby. fate happened. you're the most beautiful, most caring person i know and i wouldn't have it any other way. i feel so alive with you, so loved. when you're close to me, i feel warm.” Felix looks down at you, stroking your hair “you're home to me, y/n. my safe place.”

“lixie...” you breathe out, feeling your heart burst and butterflies exploding in your stomach. “you're also my safe place to.”

“i just, love you so much! i didn't think it was capable of anyone to love someone so much yet, here i am – totally and utterly smitten for you.” you reach up, tracing his freckles with the tip of your finger, connecting them together.

“your freckles are like constellations. if we connect them, i'm sure we can find something.” you whisper. Felix smiles lovingly at you, taking your hand in his and planting a kiss on your palm.

“marry me, y/n” your eyes widen, heart pounding in your chest as you stifle a laugh.

“funny joke Lixie.”

“im not joking. marry me, y/n.” his tone of voice is soft, yet serious indicating that he isn't joking at all.

“b-but.. i–”

“i love you so much, y/n that i want to spend the rest of my life with you! i don't see myself with anyone else but you. my life is meaningless without you.” Felix plays with your fingers, a light blush on his cheeks. “i know it's so sudden and out of the blue, so you don't have to answer straight away, but i just fucking love you so much that it hurts.”

“lixie...” you whisper, nuzzling into his neck. your lashes brush and flutter against his skin, Felix holding the back of your head gently as his fingers comb through your hair.

“im sorry if it was too–”

“yes.” you interpret him.

“huh??” you pull away from his neck, a big smile on your lips as you look down at him. his eyes big and bright, filled with so much love and admiration for you that's it's suffocating, but in a good way.

“of course i'll marry you, lixie!”

→ TAGS [open]: @chaneomma | @sstarryoong | @meltheninja13 | @laylasbunbunny | @oshimee

[688199]

AU where Felix is the shy one who has a crush on Bridgette: He asks her out.

(whipped this up really quick so it's rather shit)

“no woman is to get in your way of success.” his father told him one day. “banish the thought of love from your head. it will only makes you weak.” 

“yes father, i will father.” felix replied. many times he spoke those words with bitterness, yet this was one of the few in which he readily complied with an almost sort of eagerness. it would be easy after all, a task achievable even without lifting a finger. a person like him? in love? he bit his lip to stop a scoff from escaping. what type of lustful man did his father mistake him for? love, only the weakest of men subject themselves to such frivolous things…

…was what he thought.

now felix found himself agonising over a present sitting on his desk. 

“plagg, can’t you help me out here or something? and stop playing on my ps5 without asking.” he said through gritted teeth and snatched the controller away. plagg, the cat-like faerie, dangled trying to hold onto it for dear life.

“hey! give it! im almost done battling liquid flame!” 

“not when i’m in a crisis.”

with one last yank, plagg dropped to the floor, sprawling dramatically on the carpet.

“what sort of crisis justifies interrupting final fantasy?”

as much as felix liked ffxvi, some things are just more important. this, was one of them. he walked to his desk and picked up the present. the crisp wrapping paper crinkled under his tightening grasp.

“you know how long i’ve been trying to give this to her, don’t you?”

“yeah, which is lame. just call her, arrange a date to meet, and give it. voila, simple as that.”

“‘simple as that’, my ass.” felix spat.

“what else do you want me to say?” 

“i don’t know, maybe try being supportive for once.”

a lightbulb lit up above plagg and a smirk stretched across his face. shit, he’s scheming again. but too late, felix couldn’t take back his words. maybe he shouldn't announce his feelings to this little devil spawn creature next time, he mused bitterly. everything involving plagg had consequences, one way or another.

by the time felix snapped out of his thoughts, plagg was already dancing atop his phone, punching buttons while giggling like a madman. that number sequence, felix recognised it too well. 

he dived to catch plagg but then a beep came from the phone. a honeyed voice spoke first, delicately yet filled with liveliness.

“felix?”

his throat dried instantly.

“w-well uhm…”

in a corner, plagg toppled over from laughing too hard. felix shot him a glare.

“do you need anything?” 

“i-i’m sorry, my younger cousin, he uh-” felix scrambled to put his phone to his ear, heart pounding so loudly he almost couldn’t hear himself. “he was playing around with my phone and accidentally called…”

“oh really? i see! haha kids these days are really playful aren’t they? i have a younger cousin myself so i understand, no worries!” her voice… it was so warm. felix felt like melting just from hearing it so close to his ear, but it was no time to be doing that! he hated to admit but plagg had helped him, albeit in a sudden and cruel way. and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity he had now.

“bridgette wait!” felix gripped the phone until his knuckles turned ghostly white. 

“hm?”

“do you… want to uhm.. i don’t know…meet up with me? if that isn’t too much trouble! i don’t want to trouble you at all! you can say no it’s fine!” felix had no clue what he was rambling on about. all he could see was his life flashing before his eyes. what if she said no? oh god that would be so embarrassing. 

“sure, i would love to!” bridgette answered bubbly. love… to? felix couldn’t believe his ears. he pranced around his room, trying to digest her words and reply at the same time. she said she would love to! a dream come true!

“then if it’s okay with you, how about meeting at bassin de la villette? i know it’s not the most appropriate place but…”

“sounds good to me! see you later!” beep. felix stared blankly at the call ended screen. in the background, plagg inched slowly toward the top shelf where felix placed the controller. silence… then...

“WAIT LATER? TODAY?”

his voice boomed through the house. plagg fell off the shelf in a shock and hit the floor hard, back to square one.

"plagg! what do i do?" felix cried. "i can't do this! i'm not prepared!"

but plagg, heartless as ever, only rubbed his head and crossed his arms. "that's on you nitwit! you only said you wanted to meet. it's obvious she would think it was today. and hell you screaming like a girl for? it would be funny if i wasn't hurt in the process!"

"suck it up and stop being a drama queen. faeries don't feel pain."

"it hurts emotionally. my ego. aughhh, i'm leaving. your presence pains me." with that, plagg sweeped the imaginary dust from his imaginary pants and flew out the door, leaving felix in a pile of anxious, blubbering mess on the ground. only after a few minutes, did felix finally look up.

"wait where did you go? plagg? dude... plagg? hold on i need you, you can't just do this to me. plagg!"

[sweetsungie]

the silence between two special songs | h.j | part 3

pairing: souncloud! jisung x reader (ft. dancer! hyunjin)

genre: college au, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst, mature content, fwb, mutual pining, unrequited love, rapper jisung, english major reader

series: the silence between two special songs

word count: 20k

warnings: cursing, fluff, lotssss of angst, drinking, making out, jealousy, protected sex, oral (f. receiving), pet names, sad love story, y/n is oblivious and makes you want to just (!!), hyunjin playboy era?? 

synopsis:

falling in love with someone was one of the best and worst things a person could do. you'd remember the first time your heart skipped a beat at the sound of their voice and how perfectly their lips fit into yours. you'd remember how they encapsulated every single fiber being within you that you could no longer breathe when you were around them; likewise, you didn't want to.

you'd remember all the good things about them.

but then you'd remember the first time it ached knowing that they cared about you, but not enough. how they loved you, but not the way you wanted them to.

not the way you wanted hyunjin to.

and not the way jisung wanted you to.

•°. *࿐

a/n: bye i’m sorry this came out so late… i procrastinated so much it’s embarrassing!!!! anyways i hope you guys still enjoy this chapter, things get a little sad and steamy and ugh i just wish the best for our hanji <3 also!! pls listen to the series playlist as well for ultimate feels :)

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

comment to be a part of the taglist <3

masterlist

series playlist

JISUNG’S INTERLUDE:

“I've held back for so long, I don't think I can do this…

I pulled together my courage and took another step toward you, just this one step was too hard. It took me a while to do it even after making up my mind.

Did I take too long? Did it all fall back on me because the timing wasn't right? 

What I did hoping to get closer to you is what built up this wall that's keeping me from you. 

It's ridiculous.

I hate myself, I hate you. I don't know who to blame, so all I'm left with is a grudge. 

I tried to break down that wall, but all that broke was my own heart. I tried to pull my heart together and lost something more important—You.

I’m sorry, I love you.”

Your bedroom felt warm, but it was cold outside. You could tell because of the foggy windows. 

You thought about it for a minute. There were things you knew but couldn't feel and there were things you could feel but didn't know how to explain. How did you get to this point?

The days did not seem special anymore: summer’s refusal to perform brought about the mischief of winter and this meticulous aftertaste was something that you had to grow to accept.

“But you loved the percussion of the summer breeze: the searing golden hues, and the warm underfoot.” The season had all the hallmarks of two lovers fighting under the glare of a subdued sun, winding up nature's orchestra into a barren landscape, just because it was fitting to do so. 

And well, no season before had ever stopped them, not spring, winter, or fall.

That was all over now, and it was only after meeting the rock that crashed through your window, you realized how love can disintegrate at a different rate from when it did implode.

felix: sorry i’m late! i’m outside :D

Earlier in the week, you had fallen with a light cold preventing you from attending class or any other place that was open to interacting with people. 

It wasn’t anything serious so by today you woke up completely healed, meaning you were able to continue life as normal. But if you were being honest, you skipped all your classes again and planned on skipping practice too, noting to come up with a lame excuse later for Minho.

And your plan was going as planned, you’d even ordered some food from your favorite restaurant. Despite your limited human interaction throughout this break, you thoroughly enjoyed your alone time. 

That was… until Felix begged you to go to practice. 

Now, as someone as resilient as you, even you could admit that it was always hard to refuse Felix. He was always just so bright and cheerful, just about everything you wanted to be. So how could you ever say no?

You attempted to bring up Hyunjin as a possible candidate to accompany him, but you were quick to remember that he had gone home for break already, which meant you needed to suck it up and go yourself.

You slipped on your shoes and grabbed your bag, making your way outside. Gosh, it was really cold today. 

The wind was blowing, making it much colder than it was supposed to be. Maybe you really should’ve skipped practice. It would've been much easier than hitchhiking through campus in the dry cold. 

You hoped Felix’s happiness would be worth it in the end.

Tracing the courtyard, you spotted him… but then, your eyes traveled even further until they found Hyunjin. What was he doing here? Now you really wished you skipped practice. 

Although you were feeling better with a hearty immune system, you still felt like a complete mess, and probably looked like one too.

But there he was, his hands shoved in the pockets of his puffer, beanie on, as he laughed at whatever Felix said. He looked beautiful without even trying.

“Y/N! Over here!” Felix called out once seeing you. 

You see, you didn't expect anybody else to tag along with the both of you—especially not Hyunjin. He was supposed to be going home for break earlier than the rest of you, spending time with his family—well this was according to what he told you sometime last week. 

Maybe something had come up. You really wouldn't have known, you barely spoke to him all week to even have a clue.

Walking over to the boys, you waved, “Hey.” 

Your eyes fell on Hyunjin briefly, and he greeted you with a smile that suddenly went against the cold wind that hit your face. This past week had been awfully hard. You couldn't see him or touch him—or quite literally do anything you wanted to do. 

Sure, both you and Hyunjin had texted a few times throughout, but it quickly died down once you both realized that there just wasn't anything to talk about. The day went on, just as did every other day and the hours ticked by as the shades of the sky grew darker.

So when you saw Hyunjin and saw that all he did was smile and wave, you frowned to yourself. 

Of course, you both weren't together—you knew that. In fact, you hadn't even discussed the kiss. He hadn't brought it up and you were too afraid that you would've ended up confessing quite literally everything you felt, scaring him away. 

But somehow you still hoped he’d be more excited to see you.

Felix's voice invaded your thoughts. “Let’s go before we’re late.” 

The three of you began your walk toward the dance studio, fueling yourselves with conversations about anything and everything you could think of. Felix was great at talking, leading, and guiding, it reminded you of how much you missed hanging out with him.

You were surprised he was able to make it to practice today to begin with. He’d been getting busier with theatre so you didn’t have the opportunity to see him that much. You could count the number of times he actually showed up to the dance studio.

Felix’s phone rang and he answered it, separating himself from the current conversation about what your winter break plans were. Soon after he did so, Hyunjin glanced over at you waiting for you to continue.

“I don't really have anything planned,” you confessed. “I’m probably going to just read and watch movies—I don't know… Not really interesting.” You felt utterly and completely boring.

Hyunjin always spoke to you gently, “Reading and watching movies sounds perfectly interesting to me, Y/N.” You couldn't help but focus on your heartbeat that suddenly grew, beating—no, pounding twice as fast. He proceeded to talk about what he had planned with his family once he went back home later this week. 

His existence seemed to be full of life and passion when he spoke, and you couldn't help but feel envious of it. You wished that could be you too.

“Are you feeling better?” He continued to shatter your expectations by being kind and compassionate. 

Suddenly, you had to shy away from the emotions in his gaze, because your heart was already a tight fist in your chest. It was constricting it so much that it was like you were wearing a corset. 

You couldn't breathe under the heaviness of his gaze.

The world needed people like him. People who cared, who: allowed vulnerability into their lives, who didn't run at the first sign of complexity, who invested time and effort into what they wanted, who were tolerant and open-minded, welcoming and caring. People who were soft with a fierce heart. The world needed him. 

Everyone hoped to be him.

Felix had somehow managed to create distance between the both of you, still lost within his own conversation with whoever it was on the other line.

You swallowed, “Yeah, all better now.” He nodded to himself, happy to hear that your cold had subsided. 

A few moments passed before he spoke again, accidentally cutting you off.

“I’m sorry!” He laughed, apologizing. He had the most beautiful eyes and couldn't remember not ever looking at them when you were with him. The gold specks in them deepened when he laughed and when he looked at you they just shined.

You waved a hand, “No, it's okay! What were you going to say?”

A smile never left his face, “It’s just that I heard that there was something going on at Chan’s and Changbin’s before break. Monday, I think?”

Your hands accidentally brushed against his as you both continued to walk, and you felt like you were alive again by simple contact. “Oh, I didn't hear about it…”

His eyebrows rose, surprised. “I thought Jisung would've told you,” he stated, flickering his eyes down at your innocent hands for a second before holding it gently. “Sorry, your hand must be freezing.”

No... Your mind was busy running around, doing laps and laps. His hand was soft, too warm and you wanted to stay here forever. “Are you going?” You mustered to ask.

You were falling to pieces by his touch. Your fists were full of unlucky pennies and your heart was a jukebox demanding a few nickels. Your head was flipping quarters, heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails, heads or tails.

He nodded and you raised an eyebrow, confused. “I thought you were going home early?” You questioned.

“I decided to leave on Tuesday.”

“So you’re not going home now because of a party?” You clarified, your tone accidentally coming out to be much more belittling than you intended. 

He thought about it for a few moments, awkwardly laughing. “It sounds bad when you say it like that…” He was having a hard time trying to express himself in a way that didn't make it seem like he was just throwing his family time under the bus for some stupid, lame party.

For him, he found this party to be a perfect time to rekindle his friendships. The semester was almost finished but he found himself still struggling to find his place within a group. 

Before coming back, he knew that it was going to be different—an entire year had passed. People changed, lives developed, and things just weren't the same anymore. He knew that.

But, Hyunjin never expected it to take this long.

You quickly shook your head, not wanting him to misunderstand. “I didn't mean it like that, Jinnie! It’s just… it doesn't seem like you, that's all.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Of course not! I—” You stopped yourself, not wanting to dig yourself deeper in the hole you were already in. It was his decision, he could do whatever he wanted. It really didn't concern you. 

"You know your voice can literally make flowers grow," you stated, taking out an earbud. 

It was a Sunday evening and you were lying sprawled out on Jisung’s bed. To your surprise, the weekend consisted of nothing of substance and you remembered what that felt like after weeks to be utterly plan-less as if you hadn't dealt with it constantly before.

You felt crazy. Part of you hoped that on Friday, Hyunjin would have asked you to hang out this weekend, and when he didn't, you assumed in him asking you Saturday. Pitifully so, you spent the entire day in your empty apartment, your roommates coming in and out whenever they pleased. 

The realization that you were being quite pathetic didn't hit you until you woke up from your nap on the couch, to the sound of Jisung walking in at three in the morning. And it wasn't until you laid your head against your satin pillowcase later that night you classified yourself as insane. 

If Hyunjin texted you to see him in the middle of the night, you would’ve ran—no matter the hour. To you, anything last minute was never last minute with him.

But by the next morning, you’d figured that it would be best to stop moping around and actually get some work done. You had wasted away all weekend that even thinking of falling into the habit again made you grow sick. Self-restraint was hard but it was necessary. 

So instead of waiting for a text or call, you trapped yourself in Jisung’s room forcing yourself to not think of anything considered Hwang Hyunjin—and it worked. It worked until you realized the book he had given you was in your hands in the process of being read. In fact, you had been reading it all day. Maybe there truly was no escape. 

Although you spent most of your day in your best friend’s room, reading the now-forbidden book, Jisung’s presence was a great distraction from the constant reminders. 

He was busy himself. His headphones were on and his laptop was open, displaying his usual applications. His eyes were glued onto his screen as he worked on a song, full-focus. Yet, still, he never failed to keep up with conversation whenever you wanted.

In fact, he love the way you’d lie in his bed reading your book, unbothered and forgetting you’d spoken to him. You’d shoo him away because you hit a good part. He’d brush off your gruff attitude with a smile and continue his work.

“Oh, shut up.” Jisung’s cheeks turned into a brighter shade of pink. He shook his head humbly and retrieved the earbud from your hand. 

You playfully rolled your eyes, “I’ll never ever shut up, Sungie.” Both of you knew it was the truth. It just wasn't plausible.

"You really must have liked it then, huh?" He laughed, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle to take a sip. His throat suddenly fell dry at your compliment.

You nodded almost a million times and he found you to be so incredibly adorable doing so. It took a lot for him to not grab you and pull you closer. 

He had only shown you only a snippet, roughly about fifteen seconds, of the ballad he was working on. And although it wasn't done, he spent a lot of time on the track—more than he expected; he struggled to keep his creativity flowing due to how cloudy his mind had gotten recently.

You were definitely to blame for that. But when your compliments left your mouth like the symphony he never knew he craved, he could've sworn he had perfect pitch. It made no sense to fault you. In fact, he would've taken all responsibility over and over again before you could.

Practicing his self-restraint like always, he opted in fiddling with the faded Rubix cube on his desk. He was growing to become restless. "Good, because you're my girl. I want you to genuinely like it." 

You studied him for a few moments suspiciously, an amused smile growing on your lips. His tone seemed much more serious than he had intended and it caught you off guard.

He felt your stare and briefly looked up. “Stop, you are starting to make me self-conscious over how I speak.” 

Shrugging, you shook your head. “Don't be. It's cute in a way.” He felt blood rush through his cheeks. Was that a bad thing? You noticed his sudden fluster and scoffed lightheartedly, “Relax Sungie. It’s a good look on you.” 

“It's cute, you say…" He set the Rubix cube down and closed his laptop to join you on his bed. He leaned closer to you, and you pushed him to the side, making a face at him.

"Oh, don't pretend as if you haven't ever been told that you're cute.”

He had been sitting at his desk for hours upon hours and all he wanted to do was stretch all his limbs and muscles out—and that’s what he did. With a satisfying groan, he finished. "No, never," he lied, pleased by the direction of the conversation.

You suppressed a giggle, “You’re so stupid.” He leaned in again, this time to place his head on your open lap. You didn't push him away this time around.

"No, I’m so cute," he teased, grinning. The hands that formerly held your forbidden book now began to play with his hair. “...and so fucking tired.” He closed his eyes, instantly feeling encapsulated by the warmth of your touch. 

One thing he’d never get tired of besides your face was how your fingers moved.

"Who told you to write a song until three a.m. in the morning?" You pondered for a moment although already knowing the answer, "Oh wait. You did."

“Trust me, one look at you made me realize that I'd spend far too much time trying to write a song as beautiful as you.” He lay silent, eyes still closed. It was best he didn't continue in that direction.

He sighed, unknowingly, against your thigh. Feelings never did make sense. They’d get you all confused, then they drive you around for hours before they drop you right back where you started. 

Beginning to trace small circles on your bare skin, he decided to change the subject. "How's the book going along?"

“It’s… going.”

He opened an eye, quizically. “What does that mean?”

You shrugged, unable to correctly express your feelings. How you constantly thought about Hyunjin this weekend because you missed him. You had seen him on Friday but still, you missed his laugh, his eyes, his touch, his lips. You missed quite literally everything.

“I’m not too sure,” you answered quietly as shame washed over you.

He tutted, “You see? I knew I hated that book for a reason.” He closed his eyes once more. “It’s best you stop reading—Fuck Y/N, you’re about to make me pass out, seriously.” Peaceful bliss washed over him as you continued to run your fingers through his hair.

You laughed and halted your actions which made him groan needly. “The book itself is fine Jisung. It’s just…”

Concluding that you weren't going to continue the head rubs, he turned his head over to properly look at you. “Is it Hyunjin?” He sighed concerningly.

“I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about him.” You frowned at your words, unable to fully believe that you were telling the truth yourself. 

Frankly, Jisung was confused as hell. Not sure why you wanted to avoid the boy that you absolutely adored and loved. “And why would you want to do that?”

Words just didn't make sense to you anymore. “I don't know. He's just... I don't know. I don’t think he’s thinking of me like I do.”

At that moment, Jisung wanted to exclaim, “Hi, hello! Yes, I’m here! I may not be the tall boy with the long hair and pretty face, but I thought about you every fucking day. Does that count?”

Because it was true, he thought about you every single day. 

Everything he did always traced back to you. Scrolling through his feed, "Wow she would love that" or seeing a place so familiar that it reminded him of you. Both funny and sentimental. It was such a bittersweet feeling. It was strange being able to love someone who cared for him so little in the way he wanted. 

He wondered if you thought the way he did. Of course not about him, but about Hyunjin. Jisung wasn't naive enough anymore to think he could ever be a part of the equation. 

He was just curious—curious to know if the reminders and happy memories that raced through your mind every time you saw Hyunjin’s face or heard his endearing voice, affected you the same way you affected him. 

Had you wondered if what the both of you had together was real, too? Was it something to you at all? Did you feel what he felt? Or was he the only one thinking somehow that you and he would last a lifetime in the end?

Maybe you didn't think that way with Hyunjin, or maybe you did. He honestly didn't know and he didn't want to bother himself to learn. 

All Jisung knew was that he was jealous of the way you weren't thinking this way with him.

“We can stop talking about it, you know?” You spoke up breaking the silence that stilled in the room. Jisung’s eyes grew bigger, puzzled on where you were headed with the conversation. “I can tell when you're uncomfortable. I mean… I get it, Ji. I never spoke to you about my ‘boy problems’ before so please tell me when to stop. This is all new to me, so I can’t really tell.”

You were just so damn perfect. Everything about you was perfect. You knew him better than anyone else. You knew when he was sad or annoyed and how to cheer him up—and you always managed to cheer him up. You’d always write him paragraphs just because you wanted to and because well, with writing skills like yours, you were so good at it. 

“No, no. It’s okay. Please don’t stop.”

It couldn't get any more perfect than that. Waking up to a text bright and early in the morning when you were just sleeping next door. 

You weren't sure if you believed him. “Are you sure?”

And it would’ve continued to feel amazing if the person Jisung loved more than anything in the world loved him back. It would’ve been the best feeling in the world.

He nodded, “Yes. So please, tell me more.” No matter how he felt, he still wanted you to speak freely—unapologetically. What he was dealing with was his own issue, not yours.  

Was he in love with you again? He guessed he’d never really know for sure. He just knew he was beginning to feel things he’d worked so hard to put past him. The kind of wrenching feeling that he fought so hard to ignore, it just tore at his heart. 

But Jisung knew that he didn't own you, and perhaps he never will. So his sadness when you spoke about the boy you loved—he had no right to feel. He knew that you didn't owe him anything, and he shouldn't ask for more; he shouldn't feel so let down. 

So he spent the next few hours sprawled out on his bed with open arms, listening to your insecurities and doubts. How everything started, how it was going, quite literally everything you needed to get off your chest—you did.

“Maybe I should just let him go." You held the pillow closer to your chest. 

"Then do it. Leave him."

You looked up at your friend, frowning. "It’s easier said than done. I just feel like if I do I won't ever be this close to anyone again." A few moments passed, "You have to understand, I put so much into our friendship hoping for more. I poured so much into him, gave him so much..." You trailed off.

Jisung tilted your chin up to meet his, “Exactly. You love him with a love that absolutely consumed you and he still doesn't seem to put you first." 

And it wasn't until the clock hit eleven at night that you realized that you were probably overreacting. 

Jisung had given you advice, more biased towards his own feelings, but regardless you didn't take it. Seemingly enough, you had spent yet another day thinking about Hyunjin except you had dragged your friend down the rabbit hole with you.

“You really should’ve told me to shut up!” You groaned, rolling your eyes at how much you rambled and word-vomited for hours. “Now I wasted our entire night.”

No, he was right there, and he wanted to listen. Whenever you were sad, he wanted to hear why. He wanted to know what you were feeling, all the time, so he could share those feelings with you.

Jisung chuckled, giving you a soft smile. “It’s alright. I didn't have anything planned anyways.” Except for the fact that he needed to be at Chan and Changbin’s almost two hours ago. Surely, they understood Jisung’s situation though as he sent them a bullshit, yet believable excuse. 

Sighing, you snuggled your head against him to get more comfortable. “How did we get so boring? I feel like we’re thirty with a nine-to-five.”

“People with nine-to-five don't rot on their beds for this long, Y/N.” He laughed loudly, “But I agree. I guess it’s ‘cause nothing is exciting anymore.”

“Hm, that's probably the reason,” you wondered to yourself. “I guess we should probably make it exciting then, huh?” A sly smirk formed on your lips.

He looked at you slightly confused for a few moments before he understood the direction you were headed in. 

“Sleepover?” The both of you said it in unison and laughed immediately after. 

Let’s just say he owed you a soda after the jinx contest.

Jisung’s head was propped in his hand, his elbow, body angled toward you. The light from the TV screen in his room just barely caught his eyes, drawing liquidy slivers of color in them.

He rolled his eyes, "Fine, I take it back. I love his character. Does that make you happy?" 

You maneuvered onto your side, facing him, and nodded with a ridiculous grin. "It makes me very happy, Sungie.”

His knee bumped yours. You bumped his back.

A shadow of a smile passed over his serious face; there and gone so fast you might've imagined it. "Good," he said.

The both of you stayed like that for a long time, watching the movie from an angle where neither of you could possibly see more than half the screen, your knees pressed into one another.

Whenever one of you rearranged, the other followed. Whenever one of you could no longer bear the discomfort of one position, you both shifted. But you both never stopped touching, and Jisung believed he was in dangerous territory.

It was nearly two in the morning before both of you realized that it was inevitably time to call it a night and go to bed.

Although the both of you were film junkies and often tended to have binge parties with each other on a normal occurrence, it was rare to have sleepovers nowadays—especially when your rooms were right beside each other. There just didn't seem to be a point in them anymore.

The last time you remembered having one was when you two moved into your apartment sophomore year. Before that, you nearly had them every weekend. You’d never forget the unexpected sleepovers in high school where Jisung would always run back home across the street to quickly grab his toothbrush. 

It was strange how your childhood sort of felt like forever. Then suddenly you both were sixteen and the world became an hourglass, and you're watching the sand pile up at the wrong end. 

“We really, really need to sleep,” Jisung yawned. His tired eyes were evident in showing the lack of sleep he had been getting this past week. You agreed and stood up, causing him to watch you, “Oh, are you not spending the night?” 

He wanted you to stay.

“I’ll be back. Just gonna use the bathroom.”

The apartment looked abandoned, so dark and quiet. It made sense for the hour. Minho was surely in the middle of his rem cycle, peacefully asleep. You wished you took care of yourself half as well as Minho took care of himself. 

Entering the bathroom, you quickly brushed your teeth and ran back over to Jisung’s room. Were you excited? Of course, you were. It had been a long time and you missed the feeling of having an authentic sleepover without one of you going to your own bed.

Soon after you came back, he headed to the bathroom himself. You let your back fall onto his bed with a sigh. 

You should probably change into your sleepwear before you passed out soon, but the thought of walking over to your room sounded like the biggest mission ever.

Your eyes felt heavy. Maybe you could just sleep in what you were already in, that would've been the easiest way to satisfy your desire for slumber. But you’d feel uncomfortable in your tight shirt though. You pondered for a moment before deciding on wearing one of Jisung’s shirts. 

Yeah, that sounded much better.

Slapping yourself awake and mustering what little energy you had, you dragged your feet over to his dresser. His drawers were always a mess and honestly, you had found his shirts thrown in about every single one of them. 

So what you saw—it really wasn't your fault.

You blinked a few times, your eyes focusing on the box that was underneath the shirt you just picked up. A box of condoms was placed near the corner of the drawer, some of the foiled elastics scattered messily around.

Just in time, Jisung walked back in and noticed your blank expression. He snickered, “What?” He took off his hoodie, throwing it onto his empty desk chair before jumping into bed. The lack of words concerned him. “Earth to Y/N-”

Fear was strange. 

You supposed it settled on chests and seeped through skin—through layers of tissue, muscle, and bone—collecting itself in a black hole and sucking the joy out of life. The pleasure, and the beauty. 

But not the hope. Somehow, the hope was the only thing resistant to the fear, and it was that hope that made the next breath possible, the next step, the next tiny act of rebellion, even if that rebellion was simply a kiss.

Within a matter of seconds, you found yourself on the bed beside Jisung. The shirt in your hands was thrown on the end of his bed. Confusion still narrowed his face as you brought your hand to his cheek. He didn't flinch or move—even speak. 

Suddenly he wasn't capable of it anymore.  

And unexpectedly, without a word, you kissed him. Your breathing sounded too loud. Your heart was beating too quickly.

Oh, God. What had you done?

He could’ve sworn that he felt the stars turn emerald and gold to match your aura. The moon would’ve given your skin enough radiance to leave glowing traces on his skin when you did so. This made him long to be underneath the night sky with you once more.

Honesty, you felt so stupid. You felt so stupid because your feelings were heightened from confessing and stupidly sharing your feelings earlier—so much so, you kissed Jisung. It was a mistake. 

You were sitting vulnerable, lips pressed against your best friend. You felt naked—not literally. But that's how it felt. You were sitting there trembling and metaphorically naked, and you had no idea what he was thinking.

Terror rushed through you as you pulled away and met his eyes. You were expecting him to be upset, rightfully so. You had kissed him without warning, without a word. But your doubts quickly subsided in a matter of seconds. 

He always envied people like that, people like you. People could just act on their impulses and go out on a whim. He envied how you could just decide to go and do without worrying about what could happen until after. He envied how free you were, and how your energy could bring a room to life. 

Maybe that was what compelled him to kiss you again.

In one quick move, he reached for you, tugging you against his chest as he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was so much hotter, but no less intimate than the first. 

His lips slanted over yours, hot and needy as his tongue tasted your mouth. His arms held you so tightly it made you feel more secure than you had ever felt in a very long time.

You suddenly felt more than secure; you felt adored. You felt seen and heard, and like the most important person on the planet.

But you see, people like him could merely dream of people like you.

He pulled away with a light groan, “I’m sorry.” He felt shame wash over him as he caught himself getting carried away.

“Jisung—”

“No, no. I’m sorry,” he repeated, shaking his head.

They always said that the moon loved the sun. Jisung never understood the pain that the moon must have been in. How much those moments when they crossed paths must have meant to it. 

He was starting to understand now. He couldn't ever have you. He could never hold you or need you because, in the end, he couldn't have you. 

So it all felt wrong. He shouldn't be kissing you—not right now at least. Not when he could be easily convinced that you wanted him. It was too late in the night for him to separate your real feelings from the agreement you’d both made together.

Sure, he could’ve pretended that you wished to be his and make it easier for both of you. He could create this idea that you had secretly wanted him all along. And then, he’d forget that it was just something he had made up. But, he’d be dumb to do that. You didn't want him and you were not his.

You on the other hand were unable to decide on what you should've felt. Embarrassment should've been the first thing on the list, but somehow desire still found its way to the top. And because of that, you were so selfish, so inconsiderate, so self-centered for what you were about to do.

“Don’t be sorry, Sungie.”

You stood, grabbing the shirt you had previously tossed on the bed. Jisung had no other choice but to watch you as you took off your shirt, unhooked your bra, and let it slip to the floor before pulling one of his shirts over your head.

Jisung’s eyes flare wide and he shot up. Suddenly he was taking back his apology and morals. One night wouldn’t hurt him as bad, he hoped. 

"No, no. That was way too fast... do it again.” His voice was strained and you huffed out a laugh.

Purposely ignoring his request, you pulled off your lounge shorts, and Jisung bit back his tongue, dramatically throwing himself back on the pillow to face the ceiling.

"What?" you asked, continuing to laugh at his expense.

"Well, first of all. You just flashed me for the first time—you're evil for that, by the way..." He raised himself to lean on one elbow. "Second, you said you'd be cool with spending the night with me after a long time, which is very sweet of you because I think there are ghosts in this room…” 

He was trying his hardest to not address the elephant in the room, and you let him continue to speak because he wasn’t done yet.

"Lastly, you look so fucking adorable in my clothes.”

Raising an eyebrow quizzically, you gasped in disbelief, “Hey! Don’t I always?” You sat back on his bed, close to him, still aware of the frustration that was lurking in the air. 

It was clear he was also fighting the urge to grab you and swallow you. He nervously chuckled, opting to bunch the fabric at your waist into his grasp. 

No, you didn't understand… You looked so adorable in his clothes that he wanted to rip them off you. 

He pulled you closer to him because he just couldn't help himself anymore. And you couldn't either by the way you didn't bother hearing what he had to say next. 

Instead, you reconnected both of your lips and the both of you felt a wave of ecstasy fill your bodies in excitement. 

You never really processed what was happening as it was all going too fast. But, this was Jisung. The Jisung who would never judge you—who would never make you feel as little as you made yourself feel. Who would tease you, but never fail to compliment you. He was good to you in his own way. A little too good. 

You pulled back, trying to breathe. When you eased back on your heels, it seemed like for a fraction of a moment before Jisung followed you, trying to fill the gap between your mouths again. He wanted this so much more than you could ever imagine.

So, lightly pushing him back on the bed—your lips still connected—you slid on top and straddled him. Perfect. A shot of adrenaline coursed through him when he felt your arms trap him, your clothed core pressed against his.

He felt your muscles relax this time around. It wasn't common that you found yourself this close to Jisung despite your long history. This was far too different, far too new.

With a sigh of something like defeat, he ran his hands up and down your bare thighs, repeating, "You're perfect. So, so perfect for me” like a mantra in his head. Your lips were soft, so soft. He had kissed you before but he nearly melted this time.

And you moved, grinding slowly against him teasingly, which made his heart race and mouth go dry. His breathing sped up. All of his blood rushed south, and he was harder than a fucking brick. He was definitely in a lot more pain than he’d ever been before. 

He needed to be inside of you. But he was patient—of course, he was.

You pushed his hand down to where your butt met your thigh. He had to bend down a lot and it got his mouth much closer. Now, you pulled his other hand up from your ribs, to the side of your breast. 

He looked like he was about to pass out. Your ego was nearly too big to fit in this room.

He had his hands on you. Too bold for your own good. You lifted his hand and snuck it up underneath the loose shirt, pressing his fingertips up your hips… up your torso… and up to your breasts… just to see what happened.

Whatever control he had over himself slipped significantly and his hand regained its autonomy. His thumb traced your nipple, gently, making you suck in a breath at the coldness of his finger. "Jisung." You muttered, parting from his lips.

His eyes grew to be hooded, heavy with slumber still as he quietly spoke, "Do you want to stop?" His thumb continued to make patterns and it made you have the urge to press your body closer to him.

"No,” you answered. "Do you?"

He shook his head, feeling rather pathetic realizing how quickly he did so. 

You brushed away the hair from his forehead. “How badly do you want it?”

So badly—More than anything.

But then reality hit him. This was your first time. It wasn't fair of him to do this, right? His thumb came to a stop and he loosened his grip around you. 

He thought he was finally over you. He really thought he was finally over you. But his mind slowly always crept back. No matter the situation, the people around him, or what he was doing. You were always there. 

In the deepest parts of his mind. He still wanted you. He began to think that he always will.

“You seem hesitant.”

“I’m not,” he defended which made you give him a certain look, causing him to sigh. He pulled away just enough to look at you, “It’s just…” He spoke up once more. “It’s your first time—I just can't help but think—”

“You don't have to worry about me.” Yes, he did. He will always end up worrying about you. You grabbed his hand, wrapping it around your torso so he could hold you tighter like before, like you missed the feeling of his weight pressed against you.

He looked down at you, eyes wide, unable to stop himself from looking from your eyes to your lips and back again. This feeling was not new to him, he had sex with a few girls before, but you were different, and he just didn't want to rob you of your first. 

It took every ounce within him to pull away, "No, I'm being serious—” 

He wanted you so badly, not just sexually. He would’ve been just fine with continuing to listen to you talk for hours about nothing. 

His eyes fell onto your wet lips again. He just wanted you. All of your flaws, mistakes, smiles, giggles, jokes, sarcasm, habits—everything the world had to offer. He just wanted you.

Your thumb caressed his jaw, sweetly, “Are you afraid that something would happen to me, Sungie?”

He nodded back trying his hardest to not focus on the way you looked at him so suddenly. You gently placed your hand on his cheek, guiding his head lower to you. 

See for Jisung, he didn't care about himself. He would always put you before him and it was no doubt a question up for discussion. But, he had promised himself that the next girl he would end up having sex with would be someone he would love. Someone he would end up being with, hopefully, for the rest of his life. 

He didn't expect that to be you.

You tilted your head, and ever so softly pressed your lips against his. And suddenly he felt his body tense up from underneath you because he was afraid. Afraid about who he would be after everything. 

Are you afraid that something would happen to me? It kept replaying in his mind, over and over again.

He wanted to say, “No no, maybe it wasn't that… maybe I’m just afraid of falling,” but he remained silent, falling into a sorrowful euphoria as he drowned that were your lips. 

Maybe if he did say it though, you would’ve said something along the lines of “You're not going to fall, silly,” and then he would’ve followed up with, “Yes, I will—if we continue this, I'm a goner.”

But he remained silent. 

Instead, he put a hand under your knee to lift your leg over his hip. His fingertips stroked up under the hem of the shirt you wore, making a smooth line up your outer thigh to the side of your underwear. 

When his fingertips touched the elastic and you shivered. "Have you ever… touched yourself?" He breathed out against your lips.

You nodded and he nearly came at the thought of you unraveling yourself next door. What did you think about? Who were you thinking of? How come he hadn't heard you? 

Suddenly he felt like a creep, wondering and fantasizing about how you got off.

“Have you?” You redirected it to him. He scoffed lightheartedly, pulling your hand to his lower half where the evidence of his attraction was obvious through his sweatpants. 

The answer was clear and you dared to glance down his body—to what strained under his pants. 

His lips were so swollen, so red. He already looked so fucked out and nothing even happened yet. You wondered how you looked from his perspective. 

All you knew was that whenever his cold fingers traced you anywhere, you shuttered. 

“W-What do you like?” He choked out, his fingers continuing to graze the lining of your underwear.

He was absolutely in love with the way your breathing changed as soon as he touched your body. He could only imagine your sweet moans mixed in with little screams of pleasure, all because of him. But still, he was afraid of making the wrong move that would fuck it all up. 

You didn’t answer his question and instead tugged on the fabric of his shirt, “Off.” 

In his world, your wish was his command, and seconds later, he threw off his shirt somewhere in his room. Your hands desperately traveled down to the waistband of his sweatpants in an attempt to help him take it off too.

"No," he said, stopping your hands from continuing further. "Let me touch you first.” He had wanted to do it for so long. 

You didn't say no. Instead, you laid, wide-eyed, gazing up at him as his fingertips traced your temples, then your cheekbones, then—softly despite his rough calluses—outlined the shape of your mouth as if he meant to commit it to memory. 

The gesture made your heart abruptly spin inside your chest. His eyes remained fixated on you, as dark as the bottom of the ocean, wondering, dazed with discovery. 

Laying still, his fingertips left your mouth and trailed a path down your throat, stopping at your pulse. Your eyelids fluttered half-closed as his warm hand covered your bare collarbone. 

You recalled when you felt Hyunjin’s hair graze your neck that moment in the art studio—when you really believed nothing could feel better than feeling his presence overtop you. It was as if Jisung’s hands did the same to your skin. 

You burned where he touched you, and could feel where his fingers had been even when they had moved on. 

His hands moved lightly but lower, over the bodice of your shirt, following the curves of your hips. You gasped, as his hands slid to grip your waist and draw you toward him, pulling your bodies together until there was not a millimeter of space.

You ached for more contact. Your hand slid to your ribs to cover his through the cotton. He looked up at you through dark lashes and began to lift a corner of your shirt, up your thighs, and past your hip, until it caught right under your breast. 

You gave him a helpless look, and he prowled closer. His fingers found the loose hem of your shirt. "Can I?" he asked quietly.

You whispered, "Yes.”

Jisung still studied your eyes, as if reading the sincerity of that word and deeming it true. Gently, he pulled the fabric from you. Cool air kissed your skin, pebbling it. The flexible band around your hips remained, but Jisung’s gaze remained on your own. 

"Tell me what you want next," he said, tucking the strands of hair that had fallen onto your face.

Hand nervous, you grazed a finger over your underwear.

Jisung’s own hands shook as he reached to pull it down. As he revealed you to the air, to him. His eyes seemed to go wholly black as he took in the entire sight of you, your uneven breathing.

Beautiful.

Your mouth curled as his expression settled within you. It gave you enough courage that you grabbed his hand and guided him to your seeping heat. His eyes widened, the darkness concealing his sudden shock. 

You were so wet. So, incredibly and seemingly wet that he could pull his fingers away and see the string of arousal follow him. 

And at that moment, he realized, you couldn't get any more attractive than this. Seeping out and he barely even touched you. Not because of Hyunjin—not because of yourself—but because of him.

Jisung trembled with restraint. It was an emotion, you weren't aware he had.

That darling purr of his rumbled into you as he pressed his mouth against yours once more. His hand drifted to your hair, each stroke unbinding the braid you lazily made earlier sometime during the movie.

"We only go as far and long as you want," he muttered, his tongue exploring yours. He was trying his hardest to leave his mark. The one Hyunjin had taken and erased from you with his lips before. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Jisung gently brushed his thumb over your throbbing clit and you felt your muscles tighten at the contact. 

"Good?" He asked. It was clear he was trying to understand and study what you liked. He worked a finger up and down your slit, much to your demise, lazily playing with your arousal. 

You were growing light-headed.

You pulled him back in, capturing his lips hungrily—fingers getting stuck in his messy hair. “Sungie. Please.”

“I know—I know shhh,” he hushed sweetly into your ear, before kissing below your jawline and making his way in between your legs. You couldn't be held responsible for what happened next.

He slipped a finger, your mouth agape at the feeling. You had only fingered yourself before and you had grown used to the feeling of your own fingers inside you. But his—they were longer and thicker, you couldn't think straight. 

He started to move them in and out slowly to get you adjusted to the pressure of his fingers inside you. But you were extremely wet that it didn't take long for him to start fingering you properly, hooking his fingers into you. 

“You’re so tight,” he sighed beginning to play with your clit with his other hand. Your hands quickly grabbed ahold of his shoulders, eyes rolling to the back of your head from the stimulation. “But, you have to be quiet…” He was referring to your clueless friend who was just across the hallway fast asleep.

You see, you would have answered, praising him for fitting you and making you feel so good that he needed to warn you about being loud... if he hadn't closed the distance between your clit and his mouth. 

It was a little more than you’d expected—your hips rising at the sudden contact. His hand went onto your waist to steady you a little. 

Your jaw dropped, “Fuck—” 

Jisung was eating you out, his tongue playing so skillfully against your bud. He was really trying to ruin you, huh? You couldn't think straight anymore and it certainly didn't warrant the way his heart pounded in his chest wondering if you fell in love with his mouth. 

He inserted another finger into your cunt, making you muffle your moan with the back of your hand. Your head was spinning. His fingers pumped, curling into you so perfectly as his mouth was on your heat, tasting you, devouring you.

You forced yourself to think straight and it worked until the pressure on your lower stomach began to build. You had no idea how much time you had left but all you knew was that you couldn't go on for much longer. 

“Ji, I-I’m going to cum.”

He felt something warm as he felt you release into his mouth. You tasted so pure and sweet. It didn't help that you looked so alluring contracting against his fingers either, as your walls pulsated with pleasure. 

It was powerful and perfect and beautiful. When it was too much, you pulled him up to you. He watched as you twitched with the last aftershocks of pleasure, feeling your little heart beat a drum against his own. 

At this moment, he had everything. Every last thing he needed.

He waited a few moments, the sounds of both of your breaths filling up the room. His chin was glistening in your arousal and you had the oddest impulse to just lick it off. 

Understanding the sudden hunger in your eyes, he hovered himself over you. "Can I fuck you?" he asked against your mouth fulfilling your desire.

Kissing him back, you pulled him even closer, tracing his hot, sweaty skin. He knew he wasn't worthy, but he selfishly wanted you anyway. 

"Mmm?" Your breaths were still heavy from your orgasm and you clenched on nothing but his words.

"Can I fuck you? Please?"

Nodding, you reached down for him to help take off his sweatpants, but he wasn't sure if there was time for that. He was hard in a way that was painful and urgent—different from ever before, and your flawless, soft, tight core was right there, ready for him.

Nonetheless, he quickly parted from you to slip out of his pants and boxers, grabbing a condom from the drawer you had mistakenly opened. You began to wonder what would've happened if you hadn't opened the drawer. Would you have been fucking your best friend? Maybe it would've happened in a week from now—maybe two. 

You weren't sure. 

All you were certain about was that you needed him to fill you up.

He glided his tip along your slit, teasing you. And when he began to slide inside of you—slowly—afraid of hurting you in any way, his existence narrowed to the bare details: the pressure around his dick, strained, world-defining; Your eyes held his own, shocked-wide; the air between you, warm, heavy.

"You're so big," you gasped, wincing.

He groaned into your neck. Maybe he was big. Still. "You can take it." Nothing, nothing existed, except for the pleasure tingling at the base of his spine.

"I can," you agreed, still adjusting to him. Your walls clenched on Jisung’s length and he had to close his eyes, or else it would’ve been over right now.

And when he finally moved from inside of you, your toes curled with the unbelievable feeling. It was so much deeper like this, and he lifted your hips a little so you were able to absorb every inch. You were filled and stretched, and he felt like his work was only halfway finished. He wanted you to feel complete.

He rocked inside you, and it was torture. Delicious, drowning torture.

You grabbed his hand, guiding it to your swollen bud below. He was quick to catch on and began rubbing circles which made you slap your hand over your mouth to silence yourself. 

“It was too late in the night—and Minho was right across the hallway,” you kept reminding yourself.

Jisung worked your clit slowly, making your thighs tighter at his sides. You were purely in bliss. Nothing could make you mad or upset when you were filled with pleasure in this way. 

You began to wonder why you had waited so long to fuck someone. For Hyunjin? Suddenly you didn't care.

He hit the spot deep inside of you, and your head flipped back, jaw-dropping as you released quite literally the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. You were convinced that you’d still feel where he was inside of you the next day. 

He pushed his hips up hard against you, sending shudders through your body. “Y-You’re doing so well,” he moaned out. If he was being honest, he could've came the second he felt your walls close in on him. 

His breath against your ear made you shudder with each deliberate release of air. "I’ve wanted to make you feel this way," he repeated over and over again to himself. "Every moment of every hour of every day that I have been with you since the day I met you. But you know that. You must know. Don't you?"

“Faster—please.”

"Are you close baby?" He whimpered, his brows furrowing as he began to feel his high rising. He was getting sloppier and sloppier.

The feeling was so erotic and the sounds he made weren’t helping. It was only getting you closer and closer to your release. 

Your body had lost control as you nodded frantically at his question. The ripple inside you turned into a wave, your mouth pooling with whines. 

It wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to love you like this. 

When he first met you— when you had moved into the house across the street, sleeping so beautifully in your carrier, just like him, he wouldn't have ever imagined that you would be the one he would ache for. That you would be the one whose name left him with a nostalgic pain. 

You meant more to him than ever expected.

You moaned loudly into your hand, afraid to wake Minho as your high washed over you—diligently this time around. Your body fell into waves of contractions as Jisung’s head dropped in the nook of your neck, fucking through your sweet release until his own shot right into the condom.

He always told you that no matter what you did or what he did, he’d always love you. You’d always hug him and smother him with kisses all over saying how much you’d always love him too. 

Of course, you meant it completely platonically—but at the time, he savored your words and couldn't stop smiling for weeks. 

Jisung wished he could tell his younger self a few things. Never did he ever picture you underneath, tears brimming in your eyes as he made you come so well. And it was harder for him to believe that he was doing it for the wrong reasons. You didn't do it out of love or lust. It wasn't infatuation or hate.

But seemingly enough, he couldn't be too bothered right now. You both were fucked out, unable to speak as your throat grew sore just like the space in between your legs. 

To him, it was worth it.

This was when part of him realized he would always be stuck on you. It was clear he had little to no self-respect for himself when it came to you. Why? He had no idea. Maybe because you were the first person he had truly unconditionally loved. Maybe because you were the only one who was able to put him in this excruciating pain.

He kissed your forehead, sweetly, and thought to himself, "I swear there is no one I would ever love the way I love you."

Pulling out of you, he instantly missed the warmth and tightness that you had given him prior. He believed that was when he had gotten scared of the world around him, feeling so vulnerable and open. He wanted to go back into the world he had created with you and stay there forever. And ever. And ever.

It was silent as Jisung threw away the sticky condom in his bin. The air in the room was still and he couldn't bring himself to say a word to break the tension. You were still recovering from everything and could only focus on the white ceiling while doing so. 

He threw his sweatpants back on, grabbing a towel from his closet to clean you up. He wasn't sure if you minded the mess you made all over yourself, but he took it up himself to wipe it away nonetheless.

"So this is what sex with you would be like.”

His face fell pale and he peered up from in between your legs. You couldn't resist teasing him regardless of the hour. 

Clearing his throat, he licked his dry lips, unsure of what to say. He suddenly felt so awkward—something that was rare when it came to the both of you. Instead of replying, he did his last swipe and finished cleaning you. 

Throwing the towel in his hamper, he joined you in his sheets, quickly not favoring the space in between you both.

You turned around to face him. “Sungie?”

It was dark in his room, but he could still see your face so well. He had memorized every part of you so skillfully that it began to petrify him. 

What if he’d never forget you? What if, all his life, whenever he’d meet someone new, he could never fall for them because they weren't you? 

“Hm?” He hummed in a low voice.

He’d never forget the songs you’d listened to or the things you’d talked about. He wouldn't dare forget the little inside jokes you both had or the laughs you shared. Surely, he wouldn't ever forget your smile or the sound of your voice. 

He’d never forget you, so please, don't forget him.

You woke up to the blaring sound of Jisung’s alarm.

Fluttering your eyes open, you were faced with him peacefully asleep. His hair was a mess and his arm was lazily draped over your body. The sunlight that crept past the blinds hit his bare back, a golden hue forming, and you had the sudden impulse to touch it. Just trace it and feel the marks you made last night.

The alarm continued.

“Maybe that would have been odd of you to do that,”  you wondered. But it was just so tempting that your fingers began to tingle from the thought. Your eyes were still hooded from your slumber and your eyesight wasn't the best but it almost looked like Heaven had appeared from behind him. 

Faded footsteps around the apartment began to sound, growing to become evidently prominent as they came to a stop behind the bedroom door. That was when the realization hit you. 

You had fucking class today. 

There was a knock at the bedroom door.

“Ji, you up?” Minho called out. 

Your eyes widened and you jumped up, throwing Jisung’s arm off you. It was evident he didn't hear or feel a single thing as he simply snuggled up against his pillow once more. 

Panicked by your compromising position with Minho behind the door, you tried to look for your phone. 

“Jisung!” You whispered adamantly, attempting to wake the boy up. 

His room was a mess. It wasn't like it was anything new, but today, it was too messy. His comforter reached the bottom of his bed, and blankets and pillows fallen off to the ground. Both of your clothes were scattered, pizza boxes and empty soda cans cluttered on his desk. 

It also didn't help that his alarm was still blaring that annoying tune.

Minho knocked again, louder. You jumped at the sound, throwing on Jisung’s shirt from last night. “Hanji, your alarm is loud as shit. Wake up,” he groaned and knocked for the third time.

Nothing.

Jisung was the heaviest sleeper ever. You grabbed a pillow from off the ground and smacked it onto his head and almost instantly his eyes shot open, startled. 

“What the fu—”

You covered his mouth with your hand, “Minho is here and I think I’m late for class.” He was still shocked by his abrupt awakening to process the words that exited your mouth. “Can you please turn off your alarm?” 

He wordlessly clicked the off button, unable to form a coherent sentence still.

Minho spoke again from behind the door, “Took you long enough.”

Aggressively signaling for Jisung to reply, his eyes widened, unsure of what to say. Ultimately enough the boy cleared his dry throat. “O-Oh sorry Lino?” He was rather confused and it was clear by the tone of his response.

“Don’t worry about it. It was just so loud,” Minho stifled a lighthearted laugh. You rolled your eyes at his laid-back tone. If you were in Jisung’s shoes, your door would've been busted down by now. “Anyways, I’m making pancakes. You want some?”

“Yeah sure, thanks. I'll be out in a bit.” 

Once Minho walked off, you groaned continuing to scavenge the mess on the ground in search of your phone. Pancakes sounded really good right now and you could feel your stomach begin to grumble as you thought about devouring them. 

You picked up a stray pillow from off the ground and finally saw a familiar case. “Thank God,” you sighed. Once turning it on, you noticed two things. One, that you were indeed late for class, and two, that you had a few missed messages from Hyunjin.

hyunjin: hey, are you coming to lit? 

hyunjin: maybe we can walk togetherrrr

hyunjin: lol i guess ur skipping??

Jisung finally spoke up, “So are you actually late?” You nodded, busy as you figured out how to respond to Hyunjin. 

He sat up against his headboard, rubbing his sleepy eyes. Noticing your stale expression as you looked at your phone, he leaned over to grab his phone from his nightstand. 

“What time is it? Is it that bad?” 

You sat back on his bed, “No, it’s only ten but—it’s just that Hyunjin texted me.”

Jisung glanced up from his phone briefly before looking back down. He tried his hardest to not show how bothered he’d become in a matter of seconds. “What did he say?” He yawned. Honestly, he could've cared less, especially after last night, but he was always such a curious soul.

“He wanted to walk to class together.” You were attempting to formulate a text to respond with, but your mind kept blanking. “I’m not sure of what to say…” You turned to him, handing your phone over with pleading eyes. “Can you please make something up?”

You see, most people compared eyes to oceans or galaxies. Not your eyes though. They reminded him of his favorite thing, coffee. He thought about it for a moment, and then met your eyes. That was when he realized that's probably why he felt so awake when you looked at him. You were like coffee in the morning. 

He sat up straighter, gulping, with wide eyes. “Y-Yeah, of course.” It was when he took your phone he wondered why you wouldn't just tell Hyunjin the truth—that you woke up late. But he’d rather not question you, not when he was simply willing to do anything you wanted him to.

He sent a text and handed the phone back to you.

You didn't bother reading what he had sent, too ashamed of yourself for waking up late and missing an opportunity with Hyunjin after a long weekend apart. 

“Thanks.” 

Jisung gave you a thin-lipped smile, finally standing up from his bed. Not only did he realize his room was an utter mess, but he felt like he was about to pass out again when he took a look at you on his bed still.

Of course, you were clothed this time around, but even seeing you wearing his shirt made his chest flutter. It wasn't good for his sanity to see you there anymore. 

“Aren't you late for class?” 

You groaned, throwing your head on his pillow in despair. You were killing him, seriously. “I’m already late. Should I still g-”

“Yes.” His tone was adamant which caught you by surprise

“Woah, did I suck that bad last night?” You scoffed, jokingly. Jisung felt something in his pants twitch as he finally recalled the events that he wanted to ignore. Your eyes trailed down to his sweatpants and you laughed. “Hmm, I guess not.”

His jaw dropped and he quickly grabbed a pillow from the floor to cover his very clear hard-on. For the first time, in a long time, he was embarrassed in front of you. There was no doubt that he was flustered, his cheeks darkened in color as he tried whatever he could to suppress the feeling between his legs. 

But his mind kept running to when you first kissed him last night to when you begged for him, and when he begged for you—it was all too much to take right now.

Of course, you were good. 

He decided to let that topic of conversation die out because he’d die of embarrassment himself if he didn't. “So, are you coming tonight?” Clearing his throat, he hugged the pillow against his crotch tighter silently praying that by the time he removed it, everything would be okay. 

“Tonight? What’s tonight?”

“Chan and Bin’s party.”

Ah, the event Hyunjin referred to on Friday that he was going to—well, maybe he wasn't anymore. Who knew? The lack of communication was killing you and you felt a pit in your stomach again when you recalled the missed opportunity with him this morning again. 

You were getting tired of yourself, you shouldn't think too much about him.

So you thought about it for a moment, unknowingly letting your eyes drift down to the pillow that was held against Jisung’s trembling hands. “Whose going to be there?”

“Everyone you know. Come.” 

“Well, what if it's boring?” 

The boy rolled his eyes at your obvious attempt to be difficult on purpose. “It won't be boring! I’ll be there.”

“That's interesting considering you're in the middle of hiding your boner Jisung.” You suppressed another laugh, a smile was plastered on your face. Toying with him was one of the best things you knew how to do.

That’s interesting, considering you fucked your best friend.

If it was possible for someone's face to catch on fire, his would’ve been by now. He didn't even know what to say, he was at a loss for words. His expression was evident and he didn't even bother to conceal it.

“Relax, I’ll think about it.”

It wasn't long until you found yourself getting ready for the party later that night. Inevitably enough, you already knew that you were going to end up attending. Especially since you were about eighty percent sure that Hyunjin was going to be there. 

You just missed him a lot, and you couldn't stop thinking about him.

“Are you almost ready?” Minho peered into your room. Seeing how you were in the middle of grabbing your bag and already dressed, he assumed you were. “Nevermind, I guess you are. ” 

The both of you ended up walking over to your friend's house together as it wasn't too far away. You were really starting to get tired of the cold, mostly at night when the sun was gone and the wind went crazy. 

Minho turned over to you, “Ji said he that he’s already there, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, he went early to set up. Let’s hope they are done by now.”

“If they aren't, I’m going back home. I still need to pack for break,” he nonchalantly said, causing you to laugh. His personality was very unique that often you wondered if he’d ever find someone to be with.

You looped your arm in his, partly because you knew he would roll his eyes and because, well, you were cold. “I’m sure they’re done Lino.”

Finally arriving, the both of you were greeted by Changbin at the door. 

“Hey guys!” He was a cheerful mess and you wondered if he was already drunk. The party technically hadn't even started yet but still, suddenly you wanted to be on his level. 

Minho scrunched his nose in distaste, “How are you already drunk?” You stifled a laugh, covering your mouth with your free hand. 

“I kept taste testing the punch…” Changbin confessed, a grin still plastered onto his face.

There was a voice in the back that abruptly called out to Changbin. “Are people here already? You automatically knew who it was just by that.

Jisung appeared, his eyes instantly catching yours. “O-Oh hey guys.” He cleared his throat realizing how weird he sounded. You just looked so pretty that you caught him by surprise. Not that it was anything new—but he had to stop getting nervous like this. “Finally, you guys made it! We need some help.”

There was a groan from beside you, “I knew it…Y/N, didn't I tell you.”

“Mhm, you did,” you nodded, pursing your lips.

“Tell her what?” Jisung wanted to know too.

Minho sighed dramatically at the boy, “That you guys were going to take forever to set up!”

Jisung’s mouth fell into an ‘O’ shape because it was true. Low expectations were needed when it came to setting up for parties. But despite the struggle in doing so, 3Racha always ended up throwing the best functions on campus, so for that, he was still happy.

“Ji, where do you guys need us? We’ll help.” You asked, disregarding your friend's complaints from beside you.

After hearing his orders, you all headed to your designated stations. Yours was to blow up the remainder of the balloons and you thought that was a pretty easy task… until you were actually doing it. 

Your lungs were suffering by the time you tied the tenth balloon. There was no way you were going to finish the entire bag.

Jisung on the other hand was making some random concoction with Changbin in the kitchen as Minho, annoyed as ever, poured snacks into several big bowls.

All of you had about an hour until people would show up and that was more than enough time to finish everything. Well, aside from the current balloon you were attempting to blow.

Your phone buzzed with a text, and you gladly took it as a sign to give your lungs a break.

jisung: i hate you for looking so pretty today wtf

You laughed to yourself, rolling your eyes. He was too ridiculous.

you: that’s not very nice

jisung: fine, what do you want me to say?

jisung: damn ma the universe took its time with you

you: definitely not that…

The both of you texted for a minute more before somebody walked over to you. Setting your phone down, you realized that it was Chan.

He sat beside you on the couch, “Do you need some help? I know balloons can be a tad bit tricky.”

Your eyes lit up and you smiled. “Oh my gosh, yes! Thank you! I thought I was going to die.”

Soon enough the both of you were able to finish whatever was left of the bag in a reasonable amount of time and Chan proceeded to then work on the music.

Minho walked in and plopped onto the couch beside you. Assuming his task was done too, you offered if he wanted a drink. He thought about it for a second before ultimately agreeing.

You walked over to the kitchen where your friends were still creating their concoction. Why was it taking forever to make spiked punch? You grew slightly concerned by its contents before ultimately letting them be. 

After grabbing two beers from off the counter, Jisung called out for you.

“Wait, Y/N. Come try this!” He offered, pouring some of the liquid he made into a plastic cup. “Changbin is too drunk.”

You looked at him suspiciously, “Why won't you try it?”

“Bro, I’ll get fucked up after one sip. I’d prefer to let the party start first.” 

That sounded about correct. Agreeing, you walked over to him and took the cup, taking a long sip. You winced as it went down, it was too strong. 

“You need to add more juice. Are you trying to give someone fucking alcohol poisoning?” You gagged at the aftertaste that was left on your tongue.

Jisung laughed at your reaction, “Wait, let me try it actually.” He took your cup back and added another ladle in. Taking a sip, he immediately spat it back. “This tastes like nail polish remover.”

The both of you fell into a fit of laughter, daring each other to take just one more sip. For a moment, Jisung had forgotten that he was in love with you. After all that had happened between you both, he felt like a kid with his best friend again.

He missed this feeling. He missed having you as his best friend.

“Y/N, you would be a horrible waitress, you know?” Minho said walking into the kitchen and interrupting your playtime. “You were supposed to get us drinks like ten years ago.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile still on your face from the laughter you just had. “You are such a drama queen Lino.”

“And stupid. Every time Y/N and Hanji are put in the same room, they are like"—Changbin suddenly clapped his hands—"magnets,” he staggered a chuckle. 

If you were honest, you’d forgotten he was in the room with you guys the entire time. 

Jisung felt his cheeks redden at the sound and refocused his attention on the awful punch he made. He should listen to your advice and add more juice instead of playing around—especially when people were supposed to start coming in now. 

But he was stuck between, "I really want to talk to you,” and "I really need to get over you.”

He internally groaned, cursing himself. He just needed to stop thinking, and let go.

He just loved you so much. He was in love with every single thing about you. Hearing your voice made him feel happy in seconds, and hearing your laugh made him smile no matter how hard he tried not to. When you smiled at him from across the room, his heart went all crazy and he had gotten the familiar butterflies—the ones that guided themselves back into his stomach not so long ago.

And when you finally hugged him before leaving the kitchen and held him in your arms, he didn't care about anything else except you and him. The both of you. You were just so important to him. 

You were his best friend and literally, his everything.

Soon enough, people staggered into the house—some already drunk. It wasn't too far into it that you realized you weren't really a party girl anymore. After the three years, you had been in college, they had just gotten too repetitive to enjoy them anymore.

You looked around the living room, there were a lot of people scattered everywhere. So many different personalities and lives. You see, you never wish to be easily defined. You’d rather float over other people's minds as something strictly fluid and non-perceivable; more like a transparent, paradoxically iridescent creature rather than an actual person.

But that would be too hard to explain in this complex world.

Sighing, you swallowed the rest of the punch in your cup. Where was Hyunjin? You kept thinking about him, hoping he’d walk in sometime soon but he hadn’t for over an hour now. 

You walked over to the punch, pouring another serving. It also didn't help that you felt like your tolerance had turned out to be better than you expected. You simply just weren't getting drunk and at this moment, you really wanted to.

Chugging down what you had poured, you almost spit it back out when your eyes finally landed on Hyunjin. He came.

When he walked into a room, people were aware. He was esoteric, distinctive, and different. His aura commanded intrigue and people would watch and stare in awe.

You finally saw him. It almost felt like you were drunk and just imagining it all.

Do you go up to him? Maybe he already found people to hang out with? You weren't sure what to do.

Jisung scared you from behind, grabbing ahold of your shoulders. You scowled, hitting him. “Don't fucking scare me like that.”

He brought his hands up in surrender, “Sorry! You just looked like you were zoning out. I couldn't help myself.” Just seconds ago, his eyes had spotted you and he couldn't help but gawk and your beauty when you didn't notice it. 

The dress you wore complimented your body very well.

But until he heard you speak, despite the aggression, it wasn't even about how you looked anymore, it was about who you were. He may meet other beautiful girls, but there was something unforgettable about you. It could be your character, your essence, or your vibe, or it could just be the fact that in a world so superficial, you chose to be yourself. 

You rolled your eyes at Jisung and went back to looking at Hyunjin who stood at the same spot. He looked so fucking pretty it hurt. You wanted to run over and shower him with kisses and tell him how much you missed him. 

And maybe you were starting to finally feel the alcohol hit you because you were so tempted to do so, that you took one step forward before you saw Hyunjin reach out his hand for someone.

You halted your movement and it was almost as if you felt your world come crashing down when you saw that the person who grabbed his hand was the girl from the night at the club, Bora.

In a perfect world, it was smooth, it was bliss, it was peaceful. Overwhelmed with content, Hyunjin would hold your hand and body close endlessly and it would feel so good because you knew just how much he loved you. 

He’d want to learn more and more about you and you’d answer each question because you could never bare to leave him clueless. 

But it never occurred to you that each question was a step closer to the end. You never realized that one day he was going to run out of questions. 

Jisung’s eyes followed your gaze and he sighed. And by the way Hyunjin’s face was filled with contentment as he laughed with Bora now, playing with her hands, he knew you had to be hurt.

You see, you saw the signs but chose to ignore them; the distant look in his eyes lately, and the lack of emotion. It wasn't the same as before when you and Hyunjin both started to see each other in the beginning. The lack of effort he began to give and how your conversations just seemed to end. 

You didn't want to accept the truth that was bluntly in front of your face. What did she have that you didn't? Maybe he was slowly losing interest in you. So much so, it made your heart break.

You weren't hurt because he didn't talk to you, he most likely didn't see you yet. You were hurt because you expected him to. You expected him to feel your presence and just look at you. Smile at you. 

You expected him to be waiting impatiently to see you, just to tell you “Hi”, just like you had been. To tell you that you looked beautiful. That your smile lit up his world.

You expected him to tell you about the funny stories you had missed all weekend, and laugh together. Not leaving until he told you goodbye and made you smile. You were hoping he didn't change, but your expectations made it worse. 

He never looked at you. Never talked to you. Never smiled. Nor laughed. And while you were waiting for him to, you knew he wouldn't. He was too busy with her.

And that's what made you feel worse. Expectations.

This would've been the best time for Jisung to tell you about who Bora was to Hyunjin but something compelled him to stay silent.

You turned around in your shoes, pouring another cup and drinking it within seconds. Jisung’s eyebrows rose in shock as he saw you refilling it yet again. 

“Woah, woah. Slow down.” He attempted to take the cup from you but you finished it before he could. “Just forget about him at least for tonight, Y/N.” 

You ignored him, throwing your cup away in the bin beside him. “Hey Jisung.” His eyes looked at you, waiting for you to continue as he was unsure of where you were headed. You leaned in and brought your lips to his ear, “Do you want to fuck me again?”

The color quickly drained from his face, growing pale. “W-What?”

You weren't in the right state of mind. You just saw the boy you loved with another girl, of course, you weren't thinking straight. 

“Do you?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a small kiss on his jaw. 

Yes. A million times, yes. But not now when your judgment was skewed. Still, he didn't have the heart to say no to you.

The lack of response made you scoff. “Well okay then.” You removed your arms from his neck, adjusting your small dress. “I’ll just find someone else, I guess.”

It was so much easier to act like none of it mattered. To pretend to wear a smile than to confess that his heart was ever so delicately dangling on a tight rope. It could be easily broken, you know? Completely and utterly shattered from losing someone who was never his, to begin with. You just needed to say the right words.

You attempted to walk away, but he held your wrist, not letting you distance yourself further from him. “You’re drunk. Stop it,” he sighed.

Laughing, you shook your head. “But I’m not, Ji. I’m perfectly sober—maybe a little tipsy, if anything.” You pulled your wrist away from his grasp, “I just hate being in love with someone who doesn't want to be with me.”

“That’s not true, he might…”

“Now, you’re just saying things to make me feel better.” You hugged your arms around your torso. “You really wouldn't understand, Sungie.”

How fucking ironic.

All the times you didn't look at him or call him over earlier in the night because you were too busy looking at the front door to see if Hyunjin would walk in. What he felt because of it—Jisung didn't show you. So when he finally came to you, he told himself that he wouldn't: he knew he had no right to feel it. 

But still, it didn't mean he didn't.

He hated how he told himself that he was giving up on you and yet years later, he was here, still trying. Because nothing made him happier and nothing made him sadder than you.

Every time you appeared, his heart grew a little too big and broke a little more.

His eyebrows rose, "So, that’s what you really think?" You bit on the inside of your cheek, not answering him. "You are probably the most interesting girl I've ever met.” 

It was the nicest way he could possibly call you the dumbest girl he’d ever met.

You didn't understand. You didn't see how he looked at you, how he fell for you every time you smiled, whenever he looked at you, he had to think about something else because all he wanted to do was kiss you. You didn't understand how whenever you were with Hyunjin, it literally killed him because he didn't love you like he loved you.

You loved Hyunjin more than he would ever know, and Jisung loved you more than he would ever show. What a tragedy.

Jisung grabbed your hand, guiding you toward the bathroom. At this point, he needed to be alone with you. You were driving him insane and if he was being sincere, he didn't seem to care anymore.

He shut the door and his eyes focused on you.

Everything around you suddenly smelled like him, like it belonged to him—like he was poured into the bottle you were drowning in. 

You didn't even realize that you were leaning into him, inhaling the scent of his neck until you found his hands were around your waist, and he said, "You," and he whispered it, he pressed the word into your skin before he hesitated. 

Then again, softer.

His chest, heaving harder this time. His words, almost gasping this time. "You destroy me."

At the time, you didn't know what he meant. You were too engrossed by the stillness around you. His voice in your ear... it did interesting things to you. It curved your back and parted your lips. You felt lazy and feline.

You saw Jisung get closer, and you closed your eyes, opening them to find him mere inches away. You suck in a breath as he cupped your face, bringing you closer still. In a matter of seconds, his lips touched yours, and your eyes close once more. 

His lips continue their exploration, gently at first, and then unyieldingly hard. You opened for him and his tongue snaked its way inside your mouth. His hands move from your face to your lower back as he pulled you toward him, closing whatever space was left between you. 

A few moments later, he broke the kiss, whispering something in your ear that sounded like nonsense. You pulled him even closer, grabbed a fistful of his hair, and kissed him as hard as you could. Your fingers were already attempting to release the button on his jeans. 

Jisung tasted like peppermint and smelled like cinnamon and gardenias. His arms were wrapped around you, his lips soft, almost sweet against your skin. There was an electric charge between you both that you hadn't anticipated.

Your head was spinning.

His lips were on your neck, tasting you, and you forced yourself to think straight. To force yourself to understand the issue of this situation. It was wrong, you knew it. But you didn't know how to reconcile the confusion in your mind, your hesitant repulsion, your inexplicable chemical reaction to his lips. 

You needed to feel him. Now.

Jisung lifted you by the waist, hoisting you up onto the edge of the sink, his hands cupping your rear, forcing your legs to wrap around him. He didn't realize that he had given you the perfect angle to press yourself against him.

"Do you want me to leave?" Jisung’s lips were at your ear when he spoke. He was breathing harder now and you felt his heart pound against you.

"No," you said too quickly. "No."

He leaned back, just a little. "Tell me what you want then," he said desperately. "Tell me what to do," he said, "and I'll do it."

What you were both doing—it wasn't normal. 

You could choose to look away if you wanted to, but you didn't. Your chest rose and fell as your breathing became labored. And suddenly your clothes felt far too tight on your skin. 

The moment he turned his head to lock eyes with yours, you knew what you both were about to do.

He lifted his right hand to move a strand of hair that had become stuck to your forehead and placed it behind your ear.

Your mouth went dry. "I—I don't know what I'm doing.”

"Anything you do will be enough."

You tried to remember how to speak, but you were too focused on the fingers he was running down your thighs to form sentences. There's something about the absolute darkness, about not being able to see what was happening that made you drunk, not with the liquor, but with a delicious dizziness. 

Sometimes he’d look at you and you’d look at him and just know. Both of your eyes spoke more than your mouths ever did. Some of your glances said, "I want you right now" and he said, "It's okay, I'm here."

And that was all you managed to say.

He leaned his forehead against yours and lightly scoffed knowing that was far from the truth. "You know," he said. "It's so hard for me to stop myself." His words tingled on your skin.

You allowed your hands to slip under his shirt. You traced the perfectly sculpted lines of his body. He was nothing but lean muscle. "You don't have to," you told him. His fingers were at the dip right below your hip bone, teasing the small piece of fabric that kept you halfway decent

Surely, he had to.

It was hard for him that you weren't together. He never knew where the lines were. He wanted to cross them all the time. You’d kissed and touched, but then you’d both go back to being just friends and it was confusing.

He wanted to feel your wet core swallow his fingers whole. He wanted to give you everything you wanted tonight. 

Your hands landed flat above his collarbones, fingers curling into his shirt. He kept one hand on your waist and moved the other across your jaw. Still, he didn't bring his mouth down on yours. His eyes shifted between your own half-closed eyelids and then focused in on your lips—which pouted in response.

"You've got to stop looking at me like that." He brushed his thumb across your bottom lip, and your eyes were fully closed. He groaned, "Don't do that either."

Your voice was breathier than you’d heard before. "Do what?" 

"Act like you want my touch that much."

“But I do.”

He brushed your lip again, longer this time, from one corner to the other. You reeled from it, but you held still so he wouldn't pull away. You didn't want him to stop.

“No, you don't.”

Your tongue found the pad of his thumb. Rough and salty. Possessing by whatever force there was between you both, you nipped his thumb gently as you looked up at him. Ask him to stay, and he would. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and whispered in his ear. "Stay.” 

This was his cue to kiss you again, much more softly this time around. To wrap his fingers in your hair and later enclose them around your neck. Gently, but just hard enough to feel your pulse. The quiet beat, beating. 

You wouldn't always be this vulnerable, this open. Right now your trust was in the palm of his hand. This was his cue to pull you closer. He placed a gentle thumb on your bottom lip and you breathed out. 

"Stay, stay, stay," you said as you rubbed yourself against his leg. 

He loved you. You: it's such a simple word. How did a three-letter word make him think of three thousand different things? Your smile, your laugh, your voice. The tingles that were sent up his spine when you touched him. His heart skipped a beat when you looked at him. You, the girl who made him happy.

His eyes drifted down to yours, and it was over. His lips caught yours in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. Now, there was nothing gentle about it. You felt the sink creak as you shifted, him pressing you against it.

Every thought in your head exploded to a pure, pounding white, and you felt the dark curl of desire begin to twist inside you, bending all your rules, snapping that last trembling bit of restraint. 

It was just like it had been before you slid your hands under his shirt to press him closer. The low groan at the back of his throat, a small, pleading noise that set every inch of your skin on fire.

To him, you were an electrical storm dazzling with light and intensity and he would gladly stand like a fool, arm outstretched, just to be struck down by you.

So he told you he would stay. He said: "Okay."

Jisung watched you today. 

As you turned through the pages of the book, you cried. 

You looked beautiful as he watched the different stages of your emotions. And one day he wanted to make you feel all those things. 

Emotions were a beautiful thing and he wanted to thank you for showing them. When he saw you cry, he had to fight the urge to run toward you and hold you. It was in his natural instinct to do so, but he didn't want to ruin it. Ruin how beautiful your eyes were as they shed a tear over the story you lived, over a character you loved. 

He looked at a tree wistfully, trying to keep his mind busy away from you. But even the simplest thing as a tree, allowed memories to flow in, full force. 

He remembered when he was about fourteen he ran away from home for the first time. The reasoning was stupid, probably over a small argument between his parents—but all Jisung remembered was that he didn't know where to go. 

So he came and sat under a sycamore tree, the peculiar sun beaming down on him.

It turned out that he wasn't the only one with that idea.

Under the sycamore tree, he found you reading, your hair was messily thrown into a ponytail, unaware of his presence just yet. He wanted to run up to you and spill whatever it was inside his busy mind, but you looked too peaceful and he didn't want to ruin it. 

So instead, under the sycamore tree, he watched the stars and talked about the meaning of life with someone he truly cared about. Soon enough he would end up ranting to you, you’d listen, and he’d thank you for that.

Under the sycamore tree, he looked at you, his best friend who he had never really given a second thought to, and felt his heart turn. You began to be everything he had wanted. He watched the sun set on the most beautiful pair of eyes he had probably ever seen.

Have you ever seen your own eyes? They were rich and bright, he could get lost in them. But on that particular night, when the leaves were falling all around you, your eyes were just pure, radiant gold. He got lost in the shadows of those eyes for the first time.

Your eyes were his favorite, you know?

He shook that memory away.

As your watery eyes scanned the page, you laughed and then smiled. The type of smile that started off from the side of your face and then stretched out entirely. At that moment, he knew that he had to have you. 

And he guessed he wouldn't stop until he could wake up to that smile. 

If he was being honest, he always thought he'd be alone. Surely the two of you were going to be best friends forever, but he knew that you’d find someone who really loved you the way you wanted to be loved. And deep down he knew he was never a part of that equation. 

That's how he lived ever since he chose to forget, and to be honest he liked it until he saw you. Until he really saw you. 

When he was younger, he wasn't afraid of anything. But then, everything changed. Suddenly he started to think that, he wanted to be better—do better. For the first time, the idea of being alone began to scare him. It was on his mind and he never felt that kind of feeling—until he was almost paralyzed.

Until he was looking at the sunset, with you by his side, your head on his shoulder. You both watched all the colors melt and everything seemed calm at that moment.

And he felt like he could actually breathe. The stars started to appear and he could feel it in his soul. 

He felt alive.

Now, it was until he heard the soft sound of your laughter. How your cheeks turned rosy pink as you blushed over a character. And until he saw your emotions, how they all came from that one book. 

The Silence Between Two Special Songs.

He remembered saying how much he hated that book before… and suddenly you changed him. 

Had you ever felt that way? Have you ever had your entire perspective of something change so quickly because of a person? Of course, you had.

He didn't want to be alone anymore. Being alone seemed even more lonely. He just wanted you. So today, you fell in love with a book and he fell in love with you falling for a book. 

And it was bad because he couldn't get you out of his mind for the rest of the day. 

He’d focus on the sounds of the floorboard creaking as you did whatever you needed to do in your room. He’d hear your muffled laughter and conversations you had on your phone, even though he tried his best to drown it out.

Jisung was so hyperaware around you that it was driving him crazy. Everything about you was a reminder. His bed, his sheets, the movies he saw, the music he listened to—quite literally everything you had shared together was tainted with the memory of you.

It was all too much for him, especially with a song due in a couple of days. He needed to get his work done but you were just so distracting, and you didn't even know it. 

This resulted in him making his way over to his best friend’s apartment. They’d be home and working on what he needed to be doing too, so this was the only plausible option. 

Chan opened the front door wide enough to let him in, “Hey Ji.”

“Thanks for letting me crash here tonight, I just need a space to work tonight peacefully. My apartment was just so loud I couldn't think straight.” Jisung rambled. 

It was obvious by the way color came back to his face that he finally took a breath—one he had been holding in all fucking day. 

Aside from Minho, Chan was also a quick study, able to know when things just weren't okay. In his nature, he was a problem solver and always wanted to be of help, offering the best solutions. 

But with this came along with being aware and respectful of boundaries, which was why he stopped himself from questioning his obviously frantic friend.

He watched as Jisung set his bag down on the couch, unsure of how to correctly approach the situation. “Do you want to watch something before we work? Maybe a movie? Bin suggested this short film that he watched earlier today was good. We can watch that, yeah?” 

Chan grabbed the disc from the coffee table. It’d be best to get whatever it was off Jisung’s mind, he thought.

Jisung wanted to say no so he could just finish the song that was due. But if he was being honest with himself, his mind was not in the correct place. So he plopped down onto the couch, complying.

Luckily the movie lasted an hour. Changbin had come home midway, bearing some chicken and beer that Chan texted him privately about to bring. The sinister music played as the movie ended, and white credits rolled down the screen.

“And that my boys, is why falling in love with someone is a no-go.” Changbin crossed his arms together. 

Chan cleared his throat, sipping on his can of beer. “Actually, love is a pretty nice thing.”

Changbin rolled his eyes, knowing where this was headed. “Chan just because you’re dating my sister doesn't mean this doesn't apply to you too.”

“So you want me to break your sister’s heart, Binnie?”

“You can try all you want.” Changbin waved off, although he knew his friend wouldn't do it. And he was right, Chan would never break her heart. He loved her so much that it consumed him. 

They wouldn't know yet, but Jisung was all too familiar with that feeling. He bitterly laughed, “Changbin, come back to us when you fall in love with someone.”

It was comical, the way Changbin laughed from his side of the couch. “And what do you know about love, Jisung? The last girl you dated was during our first year and you got the biggest ick after.”

Jisung waited a few moments before dropping his shoulders. What did he know about love, he wondered. Despite his only relationship lasting a couple of months, he could confidently say that he never even thought about the idea of love with them.

It wasn't that he was too young, he already felt love way before that. And now, it kind of made sense to him. It seemed as though the category of love had always been tucked away safely for you, and only you.

He grabbed the remote, pausing the movie that ran through its credits. "I guess when you love someone, they become a part of who you are. They're in everything you do. They're in the air you breathe and the water you drink and the blood in your veins.” 

He thought about you. You became more deep and meaningful. And when he was with you, that was probably the highlight of his day, just sitting next to you in silence made him happy. 

Surely that was when it was supposed to hit him—that he was supposed to realize that he might love you more than a friend because he couldn't get rid of the knot in his heart that he constantly felt around you.

Now, every touch, every hug, became so precious to him, because he finally understood what was happening to him. So no, he wasn't too young to know about love. She just wasn't you.

Jisung continued to speak, “Their touch stays on your skin and their voice stays in your ears and their thoughts stay in your mind. You know their dreams because their nightmares pierce your heart and their good dreams are your dreams too.” He had a sad smile as he reminisced on the dreams he had that were so vivid. “And I guess, although they don't think they're perfect, you know their flaws, the deep-down truth of them, and the shadows of all their secrets, and they are perfect to you; in fact, you love them more for it. You want them. You want-”

He broke it off then, realizing his friends were looking at him.

"You want what?" Changbin’s looked at him with enormous eyes.

"Nothing," Jisung said. "I'm just talking." And he shut off the TV and picked up the empty boxes and cans of beer. "I'm going to throw these away," he said, and left.

Changbin looked over at Chan who was still in the midst of attempting to process what just happened. "When he falls in love, it's going to be like…wow."

"Of course, then we'll probably never see him again," said Chan, looking after his friend from afar, who was in the kitchen tying the trash bag closed. "Lucky girl, whoever she'll be."

It was nearly midnight by the time the boys began to finally work on their music. Of course soon after, much to their demise, Changbin made an excuse to grab something from his room and ended up passing out on his bed.

The remaining two decided against waking him up as he probably would’ve been groggy and of no help at all. Writing songs was something that they had all been used to for years but having the experience never made it any easier. 

“I never knew you knew so much about love, Hanji.” Chan abruptly stated, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. He needed to give his mind a break or else it would've overclocked.

Jisung’s eyes widened slightly, flustered by the sudden conversation. “Oh,” he shrugged. “I don't know that much.”

His friend staggered a laugh, unable to believe him after what he heard earlier. “You sure? You seemed to take the words right out of my mouth if I'm being honest.”

He rolled his eyes playfully now, “I suppose I watch a lot of dramas.”

“I mean, it starts out with friendship it always does. But then it starts to bloom into something more, right?” Chan continued disregarding his friend’s excuse. It caused Jisung to raise his eyebrows, unsure of where Chan was headed. “At first, it’s always pointless banter and small talk, but slowly it progresses into long conversations about your past, and what you want for the future.”  

He paused waiting for Jisung to respond, but he didn't.

Chan hummed, “Well, that was the case with me. I thought that maybe it was the same in the dramas…” He picked up his phone to reply back to his girlfriend.

Jisung was hesitant in what he was about to admit. He wasn't sure if this was wise of him, quite frankly, he was not confident in how it will play out.

 Nonetheless, he emitted a long, deep, audible breath, “I slept with Y/N.”

“Don't you always?” Chan was unbothered, still typing away.

“No, I slept with her.” Jisung reiterated it, slowly.

He looked up from his phone, frozen. “Wait, what?”

Jisung put his hands on his head. His brain felt like it was going to explode. “I fucked up. I know. But—”

“Jisung, you need to explain what you just said. You had sex with Y/N?” Chan sat up, adamant in trying to understand where this was coming from. There was no way he was lying, it was evident by the way he was acting. But sex? It was far from what he had expected.

The boy sighed, “Twice. We had sex twice.”

“Fuck Ji.” Chan stood up, his mouth covered by his hand. 

“I know but I think we could’ve had something real,” Jisung confessed. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I think she could’ve loved me.” His world began to spin and spin. “She meant a lot to me. Every smile, every glance from across a room, every time she made me laugh so hard I couldn’t breathe meant a lot to me,” he said and smiled, but his eyes were in the midst of collecting a few tears.

Chan bent down where Jisung sat, still trying to grasp the information he was told. He was aware of his friend's crackling emotions. “Do you guys like each other? Where did all of this suddenly come from?”

He bitterly chuckled, “She doesn't like me.”

You always seemed too good for Jisung, and that had nothing to do with how you looked. You always put three sugars in your coffee because you couldn’t stand the bitter taste alone and you often smelled like lavender because once you read somewhere that lavender made people happier, and you liked to see the people around you smile.

“Then how di-”

Jisung shook his head, not wanting to stop expressing the truth despite it all. “She’s in love with Hyunjin.” His voice curdled into jealousy.

Chan sighed at the news. But wasn't Hyunjin with Bora? He was so confused but Jisung had become a fragile vase and he was scared of breaking him by asking too many questions. 

“The worst part is, I think I could still have kissed her all day though,” Jisung continued quietly. “I could have swept back the loose strands of hair from her eyes and spent the morning just like that.” He quickly wiped his eyes, “And maybe it was because there was too much sadness in her heart, but she kissed like she needed to be kissed—like she was aching all over.”

One could see it in Jisung’s eyes. you both weren't quite friends anymore. You both had crossed such a big boundary. The way he smiled with you? Friends didn't smile like that. The way he put his hand on your back? Friends didn't touch each other like that. The way his face lit up when you spoke? Friends didn't look at each other like that. The way his voice changed when he said your name? Friends didn't talk like that. 

Slowly, everything started to make sense to his friend.

“You love her, don't you?”

"For me, it was never a case of loving her. I’ve loved her my entire fucking life and I have never stopped,” Jisung exhaled, running a hand down his face. “I tried to let her go before—I told myself to think about everything my feelings for her had done to hurt me, but all I can think about was my smile in the mornings and my laughs late at night.”

He let out a broken whisper, continuing. “She was the reason for that, she made my days better. Sure, people have bad days but in the end, the good always outweighed them.” He pulled onto the drawstring of his hoodie gently, “I guess what I'm trying to say is that she was my good and everything in between.”

In Jisung’s pitiful mind, no matter how much he knew you were a bad idea, he couldn't completely give up on you. In the back of his mind, he believed that this was his second chance to do it all over again… but correctly. Correct enough to the point where you would be his.

It could be six a.m. and all he’d want to do is lay next to you with your hands locked together, and legs intertwined. He’d want your face buried in his neck, and he’d want to listen to your breathing. 

He’d want you to wake up and tell him, "I'm so tired" because he’d want to whisper, "Go back to sleep" and he’d want to hold you tighter when you did.

He’d want to lie in bed alone with you, in the comforting quiet of the early morning hours, and maybe write a song in his dreams while you both slept. 

He wanted to be simple with you, and he wanted to be whatever you need him to be. Because it was real for him. 

He didn't know what it was for you. But for him, it was real. Everything meant more than it should have. So much that he was willing to be with you forever. And that's what hurt the most.

He looked at you with what ifs and could haves and hearts full of regret.

“Back in high school, I tried to write a song about her,” Jisung admitted.

Chan continued to be weary of what he said. He needed to make sure that it wouldn't end up being the wrong thing. “Tried? You mean you finished it but it wasn't good enough?” And although he had so many questions, the best thing he could do right there was to listen to the boy.

“No, I didn't even finish it. I stopped writing it because I was wrong.” He scoffed. “I was so completely wrong about it all.”

You see, Jisung thought he could make it beautiful. He thought he could tear himself apart and make a mosaic out of the pieces. He thought the heartbreak was temporary, that the words could be beautiful enough to show just how liberating love could be despite the pain. He thought he could have roses without thorns.

There was just so much Jisung could say to his friend that he could've spent hours talking about it. It wasn't wise for him to do so, his emotions were all over the place and he needed to calm down.

He let out a breath, "I don't know.” He slumped over against the couch, his arm resting against his side. "Is this a mistake?" 

It took Chan a few moments to respond. "Of course it is,” he hummed. Jisung felt his heart drop at his answer. “You’re getting involved with your best friend, don't look too shocked... But, who knows?” 

Chan was trying his best to find the right thing to say to him and the boy waited to take in every word. 

"Who knows if something good will happen—or something worse. All I'm trying to say is that it's okay if you don't know what to feel or if you don't know what you want. Sometimes it's okay to not want something you worked so hard on getting after realizing it wasn't what you thought it was.” Chan clarified.

Jisung sighed, “I’m just scared.”

"It’s okay to be scared. You can change your mind or make however mistakes you want. It's your life and you don't need validation from anyone other than you." Chan patted his thigh, gently, giving him a soft smile. "But I just want you to know that it’s not selfish to love yourself, to take care of yourself, and make your happiness a priority." 

Jisung’s body began to heat up, his friend was right. 

It was four in the morning when he answered your text. He was sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in a blanket Chan had given him. After his conversation with him, Jisung was left with a much more sensible head than the one he came with. 

His eyes felt heavy and he just wanted slumber to come up and whisk him away. 

It was annoying though, every time he closed his eyes, he still thought of you. Everything was still fresh and maybe he needed time to figure things out more. 

Many years later and he still stayed up at night, your smile and laughter etched in his mind, wondering where you were and what you were doing, he’d smile to himself thinking of the memories with you. His heart yearned for you, to hold you close to him right now. 

You replied right as he was falling asleep. He sighed and read your message. 

you: you're up? 

The only people actually up this late were either heartbroken or in love. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and wrote back. 

jisung: yes. need to talk?

And you did. The both of you texted for what felt like hours and soon enough he could see the sky beginning to lighten from the living room window. 

He hugged the blanket tighter to his chest. When was he going to ever listen to something other than his heart? Because he loved you and he almost laughed at the thought of ever stopping.

It wasn't until five a.m. he realized that you were fast asleep and he wasn't. He was right back to where he was, every time. It seemed as though he had taken one step forward and two steps back.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to love you like this again. And he’d kept trying to make his love for you go away, he swore. But how do you kill a feeling? 

You still lived in the silence between his thoughts.

The only people up this late were the heartbroken and in love. And pathetically so, he was both.

let me know your thoughts about this chapter! i’m interested to hear your opinions :) stay healthy <3

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taglist: (pls lmk if i missed you or if ur interested!)

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Don’t leave~

Han Jisung x Reader

!! fluff turning into angst turning into fluff again | fem pronouns used!!

A/n: I tried to express my love for hanji in this one (even tho it’s impossible to express that). Enjoy it :)

Han Jisung. Just a simple Name but it meant so much to y/n. Every time she heard it,her head scooted to the person that said it. Every time she heard it,her heart skipped a beat. She was utterly in love with him. No words could ever express what she felt for him,how much she loved him. She loved everything about him. The way he laughed,the way he smiled,the way his cheeks looked when he ate something,his dry jokes,the little mole on his cheek,his expressions when he’s sleepy,the way he’s always loving and clingy,how he always asks for kisses. She was always ready to kiss him. God how bad she just wanted to smash her lips onto his and tell him how much she loves him yet she was still pretending to not love him.

She was good friends with Hyunjin,Lee know,Jeongin and Felix and they all know how big her crush on Han was. They always teased her about how she’s staring at him sometimes and they always teased her when Jisung interacted with her. They sometimes even sit somewhere different than usual when she’s over at their place for a movie night just so that Han has to sit next to her. That’s just how it was tonight.

Y/n was sitting comfortably on the couch; right side corner. The rest of the boys sat all around the room,leaving space next to y/n for Han who was currently getting popcorn with Chan. She sat there and watched the tv while Hyunjin picked a movie. „ "The boy" sounds good doesn’t it?“ he said,turning around at her,smirking. „No hyunjinnie I don’t wanna watch horror~“ the girl whined as she saw the pale porcelain doll on the cover. „Come on y/n it’s not gonna be too bad“ she rolled her eyes at his comment and just agreed,turning her head to the kitchen door that just opened,revealing Jisung and Chan that had three pods of popcorn in their hands. Han automatically sat down next to her handing her the popcorn while smiling at her. „What movie are we gonna watch?“ he asked you while stuffing some of the popcorn into his mouth,making his cheeks puffy. Y/n giggle slightly at his actions and said „some horror movie“ Han nodded. „You scared?“ he asked with an amused look on his face. The girl shook her head no,obviously lying. Jisung giggled softly and picked up a blanket wich was next to her. He took the popcorn in y/n‘s hands and placed it on the table,making her pout. „Well just in case you get scared..“ he said while wrapping the blanket around her,making her feel comfortable. He quickly placed a soft kiss on her cheeks before handing her the popcorn again. Y/n froze in place and became a blushing mess. Her heart was beating like crazy as she cuddled deeper into the blanket and tried to focus on the movie.

Y/n felt watched throughout watching the movie almost all the time but she never got to caught anyone. Sometimes she heard some of the boys giggling before Han gives them a death glare wich leaves a big question mark above her head. Another thing she noticed while watching the movie was how the person next to her kept on flinching even tho nothing too bad happened. Y/n smiled when Jisung started to curl up into a ball while his gaze was fixed on the tv. He was obviously scared as hell,more than you were. Actually she couldn’t be scared when he was next to her. Just one look at him made her forget about everything that was happening around her. Looking at his soft face,his lips slightly parted while some of his hair fell into his forehead area,left a warm and comforting feeling in her whole body.

Y/n couldn’t hold back a small giggle as Jisung flinched while she placed her blanket on top of him,packing him in just like he did to her. „I think you need it more than me.“ she said as he looked at her confused. „You need it too~“ he whined and gave her some of the blanket. Y/n got under the blanket wich forced her to move closer to her crush. The girl took one last glance at Han before zoning out. As much as she wanted,she couldn’t move her gaze from his angelic face. He was truly stunning.

The two of them had been friends since a few years now,yet y/n was never this close to him. If she would’ve moved a bit closer he could’ve felt her breath on his soft chubby cheeks. She never wanted anything as bad as to be with Han. Call him hers everyday and tell him how much she loves him every free second for the rest of her life. The realisation that he surely doesn’t want her made her snap out of her daydreams. She turned to the tv again,gaze brushing over Hyunjin who was grinning at her but changed his expressions to a disgusted face when he saw that she looked at him. Hyunjin hated to see people that are in love but when it came to y/n he couldn’t help but secretly be happy for her. He felt like he was being a part of it,wich made him feel excited when you were,even tho he wasn’t.

However the movie became uninteresting for y/n since her thoughts were bothering her and she noticed how she grew tired. Somehow she was able to blur out the screaming noises that came from the tv and closed her eyes.

Losing the feeling of the surprisingly pretty comfortable couch under her made her wake up slowly. She blinked a few times and looked up to see Jisung who looked forward. It took her some time to realise that he was carrying her to her bedroom and she didn’t really believe that this was even happening so she refused to speak up about being awake…at least until he placed her on the bed and wanted to leave again. „Don’t go-“ y/n blurted out, sounding kinda sleepy. „you‘re awake“ Han pointed out as he turned around. He came closer and warped the thick blanket around her. „You should sleep.“ he said,softly smiling. „please stay here.“ the girl said while looking at him with sad eyes.

Jisung didn’t move. He couldn’t. He wanted to stay so bad. He just wanted to lay down and hold her close,giving her all the comfort she needs to fall asleep but he didn’t allow it himself. He didn’t want to fall for someone that doesn’t love him back even tho it was already to late for him to say he didn’t fall. Jisung was blind. It was more than obvious that y/n had a crush on him but yet he kept on denying that she does since he couldn’t believe that such a,in his eyes, perfect girl would fall for such a fool like him.

„Y/n…“ he mumbled with a sigh. „Please sungie please only a few minutes. Don’t leave me“ the helpless sound of her voice made Han‘s heart ache. He gave in and sat down next to you. You laid your head onto his chest and said a soft „thank you“. The boy just sat there,being overwhelmed and not know what to do. While his brain was fighting with his heart over wether to give in or not,y/n’s heart broke into a billion pieces. Even tho she kept on telling herself that he doesn’t love her she definitely hoped for the opposite. Getting proved that her negative thoughts were right just shattered her. He would give her affection if he’d love her. He doesn’t love her.

„It hurts you know.“ she said blankly while her head was still on his chest. The sound of y/n‘s voice made Jisung come back to the moment. „huh?“ he said,not knowing what was going on. „It hurts to know that my thoughts were right.“ she sat up,as Han watched her figure move through the soft moonlight that was lurking through the halfway closed curtains. „god it actually feels like something is breaking inside of me right now.“ she said and Han could tell that her eyes started to tear up from the sound of her voice. „Why am I never enough?“ she said and hid her face in her hands. „Not even enough to be loved…“ she whispered. „What do you mean?“ Jisung said,being scared. „I‘m in love with you Jisung. I‘m so fucking deeply in love with you it always made me happy and caused me to smile but now it feels like it’s killing me from the inside. I know I should’ve never fall for you. We’re only friends but I just can’t help it and-and“ she stopped for a moment as the tears made her choke on her own words. „I just can’t stop loving you. No distance would ever be enough to make my feelings die.“

Han‘s heart almost exploded at her words. He couldn’t believe what he heard. He was happy to hear the things she said but it hurts him a lot to see you being hurt because of him. „Y/n I-“ he tried to speak up but she didn’t let him. She clearly wasn’t ready for an obvious rejection yet.

„I was so dumb for thinking you would love me.“ she said as she let out a pathetic laugh. „God that’s so embarrassing I’m so so sorry. It’s stupid I- I just-“ the girl rambles as she got up from the bed,on her way to leave her room. She didn’t even know herself where she wanted to go but she just wanted to escape the situation. He must think she’s dumb. „Y/n wait.“ Han said and got up too. „Stay here please and talk to me.“ he grabbed her wirst and dragged her to the bed again. He sat down first and then pulled her onto his lap. Every single interaction with him just made y/n’s heart ache. She would never experience something like this again. „Stop crying please there’s no reason to.“ she just scoffed slightly. „I wish.“ she whispered.

Han tried to hug the girl but she tried to push him off. „Give in y/n“ he whispered softly. No matter how much she wanted to just ran,the comfort of Jisungs arms always made her stay In place. She relaxed her stiffened body as he caressed her back slowly. „it hurts me too…you know,to see you cry like this but my heart feels good at the same time.“ y/n lifted her head and looked at him confused while sobbing a few times. „I love you too y/n“ with that she started to cry again and hits his arm over and over again. „Why are you playing with me?“ Han took her arms and held them while she kept on wiggling in his grip. „Why are you doing this to me han Jisung?“ she whispered while a billion tears left her eyes.

Her head was already starting to hurt from all the crying as Jisung placed his hands on her cheeks and made her look at him. „I love you.“ he said as his thumbs wiped away the falling tears,leaving a ticklish feeling at where his thumb traced over her skin. „I love only you.“ he said and placed a kiss on top of her head. She kept on sobbing softly as she watched the boys actions. „I only want you.“ he said,kissing her forehead. „My heart belongs to you.“ while he kissed her left cheek, y/n‘s sobs became less as she focused on his voice. „you‘re all I want.“ he kissed her right cheek wich was painted a slight red shade. Y/n has stopped crying. Her mind was blank only filled with Jisung‘s words repeating over and over again until he says something new. „I’m yours no matter what.“ he said,softly brushing his nose against hers before placing a kiss there too wich caused y/n to giggle softly. He looked into her eyes wich made her frown. His gaze was serious and his eyes were having sparks in it. He moved closer to her,eyes not leaving her until there was only a small gap between his and her lips. „and I want you to be mine“ he whispered. Short time after that,y/n felt his lips on hers. The feeling made her forget about all the pain she felt a few minutes before. Her whole body was filled with love and butterflies. After a few seconds Han wanted to pull away since y/n didn’t return the kiss. In fact,she didn’t move at all wich made him think she didn’t want the kiss. But once his lips briefly left her she followed them with hers and laid her hands onto his cheeks,pulling him closer. Jisung laid his hands onto the girls hips and shifted her closer,on his lap,to his body. The kiss lasted for a long time but it would’ve never been long enough for both of them.

They both pulled away from the kiss and breathed heavily while resting their foreheads against each other. „I really love you so much y/n. I just didn’t thought you love me so I didn’t want to let myself be close to you. I‘m so sorry I-“ y/n stopped his words with a giggle and a kiss on his lips. „It’s okay sungie. You just made me the happiest I’ve ever been.“ Han’s worried face softened at her words and turned into a slight smile. They both held each other close for a little more time,just enjoying each other’s presence.

„I‘m tired.“ y/n mumbled after some time. „Then let’s sleep.“ he said and placed her on the bed. „Don’t-“ she was on her way to beg for him to stay but Han just giggled and laid down next to her,arms wrapped around her tightly. „Don’t worry I won’t leave you…never again.“ with that y/n sighed and fell asleep. Jisung‘s mind was trying to realise that the girl of his dreams was just laying in his arms,sleeping heavenly,while he passed away into the dreamworld even tho his fav dream just came true.