Kpopmixerreads - Untitled - Tumblr Blog

KINKTOBER 2024

» svt menu | skz menu | atz menu | txt menu | the rose menu | soloist menu «

➮ monster!idol (svt, atz, skz, txt, woosung, + dpr ian) × fem!Reader wc: — summary: a collection of timestamps for the spookiest month of the year genres/themes/au: angst, fluff, smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, mentions of: food/alcohol consumption, supernatural & horror themes; sexual content (18+ mdni), see each part for further warnings. ⚠️  taglist will be in the reblogs join my taglists: main | special Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

🅆🄴🄴🄺 1

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

❑ 「10:01」 WORK OF ART ➮ half-dragon!Minghao × fem!Reader kinks: mirror sex + sex photos prompt: ❛❛ Don’t cover your mouth, I want everyone to know how good I make you feel. ❜❜ summary: Minghao has a deep appreciation for the arts and as a half dragon, he tends to hoard art. One work of art he loves to observe is his favorite model and muse, Y/N. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:02」 PRIMAL INSTINCT ➮ werehyena!Mingi × fem!Reader kinks: facesitting + mommy kink prompt: ❛❛ Sit on my face. ❜❜ summary: Y/N hasn’t been intimate with her boyfriend for a number of reasons but things change when he finally blurts out his fantasy while they’re drinking after dinner. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:03」 WRONG TURN ➮ bunyip!Chris × fem!Reader × bunyip!Chris kinks: threesome + pool/water sex prompt: ❛❛ Make Me. ❜❜ + ❛❛ God, you’re so beautiful when you’re fucked out under me/us. ❜❜ summary: Y/N is convinced her map is wrong when she finds herself utterly lost on what was supposed to be a short hike from her camp. When she comes upon a small river and stops to fill her canteen, she finds more than water waiting for her. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:04」 SPEED DATING AN ONI FOR DUMMIES ➮ oni!Jeonghan × fem!Reader kinks: bulge kink + deepthroating prompt: ❛❛ I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already wet. ❜❜ summary: Speed dating never was Y/N’s thing but lucky for her, she just so happened to meet someone worthwhile. He asked her on a proper date & has been a perfect gentleman throughout the night. Even if he is an oni. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:05」 GUEST RELATIONS ➮ centaur!Mingyu × fem!Reader kinks: premature ejaculation + degradation prompt: ❛❛ Good boys get rewarded, so behave. ❜❜ summary: Y/N owns an inn in the countryside, left to her by her grandparents. She gets all sorts of visitors but her favorites are the unusual and monstrous ones. When a centaur named Mingyu arrives, she gives him the best horse-size room she has and goes above and beyond to make sure his stay is memorable and welcoming. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:06」 BAD DOG, GOOD BOY ➮ werewolf!Woosung × fem!Reader kinks: knotting + creampie prompt: ❛❛ Is that my shirt? ❜❜ summary: All you wanted was a quiet, relaxing night to yourself after a tough week at work. One night to relax and unwind. With your clothes in the wash, you decide to borrow one of your roommate’s shirts. Something he notices when you walk back into the living room while he’s taking a break from gaming. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:07」 ONLY MINE ➮ werefox!Hongjoong × fem!Reader kinks: possessive sex + marking prompt: ❛❛ I’m not jealous! It’s just… you’re mine. ❜❜ summary: Hongjoong is possessive by nature and when people get too close to his mate, he has to remind her who she actually belongs to. wc: — READ NOW!

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

🅆🄴🄴🄺 2

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

❑ 「10:08」 GAME OF RIDDLES ➮ kumiho!Beomgyu × fem!Reader (feat. Yeonjun & Soobin) kinks: dacryphilia + CNC prompt: ❛❛ I love it when you cry. ❜❜ + ❛❛ What do you mean you’ve never cum from sex? ❜❜ + ❛❛ Your panties are soaked already. ❜❜ summary: When Y/N’s best friends Yeonjun and Soobin dared her to explore an old mine shaft on the edge of town, she never expected to find anything but rock so when she stumbles across an extremely gorgeous man with bright orange glowing eyes, to say she was shocked was an understatement. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:09」 FALLEN ➮ fallen angel!Seungmin × fem!Reader kinks: impact play + begging prompt: ❛❛ Oh no. Not until you beg. ❜❜ summary: His fall from grace had been due to his hard headedness and Seungmin’s status as a fallen one never really crossed his mind. At least until he met Y/N. He’d been dejected and grown disillusioned with life but upon meeting her, he started to see some meaning to life again. To put it simply -- Y/N made him feel alive. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:10」 DON’T HOLD BACK ➮ wereleopard!Yunho × fem!Reader kinks: size kink + praise prompt: ❛❛ Try to stay quiet for me, kitten. Can you do that? ❜❜ summary: Yunho hadn’t been on a date in ages when he managed to land a date with his cute coworker, Y/N. Cue one awkward first date and a handful of other successful ones, Yunho feels like he’s starting to settle into his growing relationship. The only thing holding him back is that his girlfriend is so small and it drives him mad with the desire to pin her down and unleash his inner beast. He finally comes clean when Y/N asks him why they aren’t more intimate. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:11」 THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED ➮ bogeyman!Vernon × fem!Reader kinks: tentacles + virgin sex prompt: ❛❛ I’m waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you. ❜❜ summary: The monster under Y/N’s bed has been hearing her touch herself for the last few years & is starting to get jealous. Why does she touch herself when he’s right there? wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:12」 BUMP IN THE NIGHT ➮ incubus!Jongho × fem!Reader kinks: somnophilia + mind break prompt: ❛❛ I’m going to have you screaming by the end of the night. ❜❜ summary: To pass his final incubus test, Jongho must visit the human world and seduce a sleeping person. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:13」 HEY, CHECK THIS OUT ➮ shapeshifter!Junhui × fem!Reader kinks: mutual masturbation + voyeurism prompt: ❛❛ Lay back and touch yourself, I’m going to watch. ❜❜ summary: Jun is a witch and has been practicing his shapeshifting. He’s excited to show Y/N his new trick which has an unintended reaction. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:14」 BLOODLUST ➮ vampire!Wonwoo × fem!Reader kinks: bloodplay + period sex prompt: ❛❛ Aw darling, I almost believe you. ❜❜ summary: Y/N has always avoided sex during her period in the past. Not because she found it gross but because her partners did. Wonwoo is different. Wonwoo loves it. Wonwoo also happens to be a vampire so he might be a bit biased. wc: — READ NOW!

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

🅆🄴🄴🄺 3

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

❑ 「10:15」 A QUIET MORNING ➮ kitsune!Jeongin × fem kumiho!Reader kinks: dry humping + morning sex prompt: ❛❛ Do you really think you’re in a position to give orders? ❜❜ summary: A year after setting off to find his mother, Jeongin returned to Y/N, finding she had given birth to his daughter. Time skip to another two years later and Jeongin often wakes up to his three year old daughter and one year old son jumping on the bed, shaking him and Y/N awake. It’s not often he gets to spend the morning with his wife so when Clover offers to watch the kits so Jeongin and Y/N can have a weekend away, he jumps at the chance. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:16」 BEWARE OF BEARS ➮ werebear!Changbin × fem!Reader kinks: outdoor sex + strength kink prompt: ❛❛ I cannot possibly focus with your damn hand in my- ❜❜ summary: Changbin just wanted to have a nice camping trip with his girlfriend but she has other ideas. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:17」 THE RITUAL ➮ demon!Chan × fem witch!Reader kinks: lingerie + facefucking prompt: ❛❛ You look so good on your knees. ❜❜ summary: Y/N has been practicing her summoning, hoping to finally summon a demon. Imagine her surprise when she not only succeeds in summoning a demon but he’s insanely gorgeous and wants to make a deal. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:18」 GOD OF DEATH ➮ shinigami!Hyunjin × fem!Reader kinks: rope play + dubcon prompt: ❛❛ I promise I’ll be gentle. ❜❜ summary: As a god of death, Hyunjin spent most of his days in the underworld but after deciding to visit the human world, he finds himself drawn to a particular human and even conspires to drop his very own death note, hoping for her to pick it up. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:19」 SEASIDE RETREAT ➮ merman!Seungcheol × fem!Reader kinks: daddy kink + choking prompt: ❛❛ Baby, I asked you a question, so if you know what’s good for you, you’d better answer me.❜❜ summary: It’s been a few weeks since Y/N last came to the small seaside town where her boyfriend resides and suffice it to say, he’s missed her greatly. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:20」 THE SIREN’S SONG ➮ siren!Wooyoung × fem!Reader kinks: thigh fucking + brat-taming prompt: ❛❛ Yell at me again and I’ll give you a reason to scream. ❜❜ summary: Y/N’s been having a rough season. The fish have almost all but disappeared and each catch is smaller and smaller. While doing some overnight fishing, she’s woken from her slumber by a beautiful singing and finds that the one doing the singing is even more beautiful. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:21」 MADE OF STONE ➮ gargoyle!Seokmin × fem!Reader kinks: thigh riding + orgasm control prompt: ❛❛ Come here. I’ll show you how to make yourself feel good. ❜❜ summary: Nights are the only time Seokmin can truly live as he spends his days frozen in the glow of the sun. Night was also the time when his human girlfriend would come to pay him a visit. wc: — READ NOW!

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

🅆🄴🄴🄺 4

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

❑ 「10:22」 BOREDOM ➮ naga!Seonghwa × fem!Reader kinks: table/counter sex + double penetration prompt: ❛❛ I’m bored. Let’s fuck. ❜❜ summary: Y/N’s naga roommate is still trying to get used to the hustle and bustle of life in the city. He finds it difficult to go out and socialize as monsters aren’t socially accepted yet. So he tends to go a little stir crazy and get bored often. Lunchtime is no different when he suggests they do something fun. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:23」 CHEATING DEATH ➮ reaper!Yeosang × fem!Reader kinks: corruption kink + cock worship prompt: ❛❛ Have you never been touched like this before? ❜❜ summary: When an aneurysm in her brain ruptures, killing Y/N, she is faced with a reaper who has come to collect her soul but she might have just discovered a way to cheat death. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:24」 CAN'T TAKE THE HEAT ➮ yuki-otoko!Jihoon × fem!Reader kinks: temperature play + spitting prompt: ❛❛ What? Does that feel good? ❜❜ summary: As a snow demon, Jihoon can’t stand the heat and takes to staying in his apartment he shares with his roommate, Y/N. When the AC breaks down, Jihoon asks Y/N for help in keeping him cool. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:25」 APHRODISIA ➮ alien!Minho × fem!Reader kinks: sex pollen + breeding prompt: ❛❛ Baby… you need me that badly? ❜❜ summary: After Minho’s return to Earth, Y/N has spent the last year traveling the galaxy with her alien boyfriend. While exploring a tropical moon orbiting a massive planet in a binary star system, Y/N accidentally disturbs a cluster of bulbous purple luminescent flowers that release a glowing purple dust that sticks to her clothes and skin. She returns to Minho’s ship hoping that the dust isn’t toxic and will wash off but as she soon finds out, the dust is a very sparkly and potent aphrodisiac and it has a profound effect on not only her, but on Minho as well. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:26」 ROCK THE BOAT ➮ samebito!Jisung × fem!Reader kinks: body worship + dirty talk prompt: ❛❛ Tell me you love me. ❜❜ summary: Y/N’s work has been taking her away from the ocean and keeping her in the office, making her samebito boyfriend, Jisung, very lonely and putting a wedge between them. One night after Y/N doesn’t show up to his underwater cave, Jisung makes a simple little wish that he could go on shore for once to go see her instead of waiting for her to come to him. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:27」 GO INSANE ➮ werepanther!Christian × fem!Reader kinks: public sex + cockwarming prompt: ❛❛ We can’t do this here! What if someone sees? ❜❜ summary: a nice visit to the Japanese countryside was in store for Y/N and her fiancé. What she hadn’t planned on was how insatiable the werepanther was and his animalistic urge to be inside her while she sits on his lap on a crowded bus. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:28」 HEAT CYCLES ➮ weretiger!Soonyoung × fem!Reader kinks: heat cycles + rough sex prompt: ❛❛ You heard me. Take. It. Off. Now. ❜❜ summary: Normally during his heat, Soonyoung stays as far away from his girlfriend as he can for fear of scaring her away but he can’t help himself when she comes by to drop some soup off seeing as he told her he’s sick. wc: — READ NOW!

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

🅆🄴🄴🄺 5

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

❑ 「10:29」 THRILL OF THE CHASE ➮ werecoyote!San × fem chipmunk hybrid!Reader kinks: predator/prey + hybrids prompt: ❛❛ Why are you shaking? You’re not scared of me are you? ❜❜ summary: San’s favorite thing about his roommate is that as a hybrid, she triggers his prey drive which makes him want to chase her around their apartment, and even if it’s not her favorite thing ever, she doesn’t mind indulging him. It usually ends with her pinned on the couch or wall before San will playfully nip at her and let her go but this time, it ends with her pinned against his bed, triggering more than just his predator drive. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:30」 ALMOST HUMAN ➮ gorgon!Seungkwan × fem!Reader kinks: shower sex + drunk sex prompt: ❛❛ We’re not just friends and you fucking know it. ❜❜ summary: Seungkwan is the youngest of three siblings and the only male gorgon in his family. Probably due to his half-human heritage on his father’s side. He’s lucky that his appearance is much more human than his sisters’. Although he looks mostly normal there are still some things that aren’t quite… human. His inhuman strength and other snake-like features set him apart from the rest, so why his best friend and roommate likes him so much, he doesn’t know why. All he knows is that he’s madly in love with Y/N. wc: — READ NOW!

❑ 「10:31」 MIDDAY HIKE ➮ näcken!Joshua × fem!Reader kinks: overstimulation + sensory deprivation prompt: ❛❛ Don’t act so innocent. I heard you. ❜❜ summary: Trekking through the forest has brought Y/N nothing but joy but now she’s hearing a mysterious violin playing in the distance and follows the sound to find the source. wc: — READ NOW!

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

lucky (bang chan x gn!reader)

fluff, husband!chan, tried to make it as domestic as possible; 0,5k words

author's note: a little fic requested by my lovely chan nonnie<3 hopefully you'll like it, please remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽

“baby, what are you doing?” chan asked as soon as he stepped out of the bathroom. water from his wet hair dripped straight onto his naked torso as he tried to dry them off with a little towel. you hummed quietly, not turning around. “i thought we were supposed to watch a movie?”

“we are, i’m almost done with the dishes,” you said with a small smile as you felt chan’s arms wrap around your body. he swayed you from side to side, placing his chin on your shoulder. 

“can’t you do that tomorrow?” he pouted.

you shook your head at his words. “the last thing i want is to wake up on a sunday morning to the sink full of dirty dishes,” you chuckled, putting the freshly washed plates on the drying rack. 

chan and you didn’t have that much time in the week to spend together, both of you were too busy with work and errands to even think about a chill evening with each other. so as the weekend rolled up you always tried to do something fun together, be it a fancy dinner or a movie date at home. it was your unspoken rule to make sure to just have fun with each other and not care about everyday worries. 

that’s why chan was so confused to see you standing right next to the sink in his shirt and doing the chores. 

“i would do it for you tomorrow, y’know?” 

“yeah?” you raised your eyebrow, not entirely believing him. he let out a small mhm, watching as you rinse the last plate from the sink. “good thing that neither of us will have to do it tomorrow. i’m done,” you announced with a small smile as you wiped your damp hands. you turned around to face chan and he immediately placed his hands on your hips, a little habit he developed throughout the years. he looked you in the eyes with a lovestruck expression, grinning widely. you tilted your head to the side, a wordless question hanging in the air between us. 

“you’re so pretty,” he said softly. you scoffed at his words, but said nothing, knowing that it was pointless to argue with him. “can i take you on a date?” he added, leaning over so that your foreheads were almost touching. 

you giggled, raising your hand and pointing to your ring finger. “sorry, i’m taken.”

“damn, your husband must be lucky to have you,” he whispered with a sly grin, slowly closing the distance between you two. 

“very,” you breathed out and connected your lips in a slow yet passionate kiss. you let chan set the pace and guide you as you wrapped your arms around his body, feeling like the whole world around you disappeared. it was only you and him in your little bubble of love and mutual adoration. 

as the time passed you finally broke the kiss, panting slightly, and smiled at your husband. “hey, you wanna order some food? i didn’t feel like cooking today.”

he laughed at that, his husky voice echoed in the dimly lit apartment and filled you with familiar warmth. “of course, baby. now c’mon, let’s watch that movie, hm?”

taglist ! @astraystayyh @laylasbunbunny @l3visbby @like-a-diamondinthesky @hanjsquokka @xichien @xocandyy @minhosbitterriver

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 lee heeseung x fem!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 two old high school sweethearts find themselves working together when heeseung's employee and friend - jake hires her as his assistant. the breakup was harsh on the both of them and yn is ready to move on from the past but heeseung can't seem to let go of his feelings for yn.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 ex boyfriend!heeseung x fem!reader. exes to lovers.

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 enhypen members, sungchan (riize), sophia (katseye), jiung (p1harmony) and wonyoung (ive)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 angst, swearings/cursings, suggestive jokes, friendly bantering, kys jokes

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 coming soon.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 open. (send an ask!) @r1kification @manuosorioh @heeseungismymanz

𝑳𝑰𝒁𝒁𝑰𝑬 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬'𝑺 - new smau but for the lovely lee heeseung <3 he deserves some love (i say as this smau is filled with angst) taglist is open so send an ask! also the members are aged up for this smau (not by a lot)

PROFILES.

CHAPTERS.

PARK SUNGHOON — I WISH SUNGHOON WAS MY BOYFRIEND.. (A VERY SHORT SUNGHOON SMAU!)

✶ IM JOKING THO! .. maybe not.

SYNOPSIS.. when the wonders of the modelling world and photographing world get clashed lots of secrets get revealed, lots of enemies are made and lots of friends are lost. so how will your story, an upcoming photographer unfold when entangled with seoul’s infamous supermodel park sunghoon?

⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ ──── PAIRING, FEM!PHOTOGRAPHER READER X MODEL!SUNGHOON. (17+) | WARNINGS, fluff, weird. just weird stuff. swearing, um cute stuff too? will eventually contain smut, idk this is all pre planned i’m posting this after i finish all the chapters so i’ll update then if not hi i forgot :D ! (update i am NOT posting this with all chapters finished.) | A,NOTE. my first smau series kinda nervous kinda about to kms but we ball this is for chels HAPPY BIRTHDAAYYYYY

ꕤ ... this is basically me making up for the distress, annoyance and dramatic-ness i’ve made chelsea go through for the past 5 months, happy birthday chelsea i love you !! <3 (even tho i’m like 3 months late 😞)

WARNINGS: (will contain) swearing, suggestive themes & smut (17+), angst, fluff, questionable scenarios.. it’s gonna have a lot of lore (updating this like three weeks later to confirm that this smau is going to be nowhere near short. i’m stressed.) thanks to my beloved nia i’ll probably finish this in the summer of 2025 but! i’ll try my best i promise, lots of characters r just. horrible. asshole sunghoon obv, mentions of toxic work environments & (modelling) industries, more will be added as we move forward 🙂‍↕️

UPDATING SCHEDULE: this smau will be updated every friday & sunday from september till oct-nov (for now), some chaps may get delayed as im also a uni student so pls bear with me 🙏🏼 other than that i hope u enjoy :3

CHAPTER INDEX!

♡ .. PROFILES

• 1.. sprinkle of asshole-ness 😥

• 2.. odd atelierian triplets

• 3.. CRAZYDOGSLEEVES!

• 4.. top secret secret top secret?

• 5.. suspicious as fuck..

── MORE TO COME!

a,note. really stepping out of my comfort zone with this smau 😓 but i’m really excited for everything :3 !! anyways, i’m exactly 23 days late from chels’ birthday as i upload this masterlist but hey! we have till summer of 2025 to celebrate her birthday now w this smau :D ! anywho happy birthday chels @ak4e7a !!! i love u !!!

velle's reccos

(enhypen SMAU ver)

heeseung (이희승) 𐙚 ⋆˚｡⋆

poison by @onlyjaeyun

(college! AU, brother's best friend! AU, angst & smut)

verboten by @heesbaby

(older! heeseung x reader, smut & angst)

you, me & the moon by @heeracha

(college! AU, fratboy! AU, slowburn, angst & fluff)

10 days to fall in love by @luvyeni

(bad boy hee! x good girl! reader, uni, fluff, angst & smut)

infrunami by @jaetyun

(heeseung x fmr, best friends brother)

park jongseong (박종성) 𐙚 ⋆˚｡⋆

strictly business by @onlyjaeyun

(strangers to lovers! AU, CEO! jay, secretary! reader & age gap!)

21st century girl by @hoonvrs

(jay x fmr, fluff & crack)

end of line by @heeracha

(college! AU, slowburn, angst & crack)

love letters by @tqmies

(jay x fmr, cursing & sexual jokes)

understand by @fakeuwus

(idol! jay x idol! yn, crack, fluff & angst)

park sunghoon (박성훈) 𐙚 ⋆˚｡⋆

cold hearts by @onlyjaeyun

(childhood friends to enemies to lovers! AU)

falling, fallen by @run2min

(basketball player! hoon x artist fem! reader & strangers to lovers)

fuck christmas! by @jayflrt

(sunghoon x fmr, fluff, crack & angst)

yang jungwon (양정원) 𐙚 ⋆˚｡⋆

language of flowers by @soobnny

(strangers to lovers & fluff)

all clear! by @amakumos

(fluff, crack & tiny bit of angst)

sim jaeyun (심재윤) 𐙚 ⋆˚｡⋆

doctors orders by @heesbaby

(fluff, comedy, smut & angst)

hyung line 𐙚 ⋆˚｡⋆

confident by @bambisgirl

(college! AU, smut, angst, fluff & humor)

last updated : 14 feb 2024

𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐨-𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝

❝Who knew all it takes is a hot girl with top-tier taste for a man to admit he's wrong?❞

𝒈 𝒆 𝒏 𝒓 𝒆 : fluff, comedy, suggestive, college! au

𝒘 𝒐 𝒓 𝒅 𝒄 𝒐 𝒖 𝒏 𝒕 : 21.7k words

𝒔 𝒖 𝒎 𝒎 𝒂 𝒓 𝒚 : self-proclaimed movie mastermind chwe vernon minds his business—whether that be avoiding the popular, problematic kids in his college to reducing customer interest in his parents' film store. his plan of isolation, however, is completely destroyed when you, a seemingly insane disney fan, slams his perfect movie taste and ask for his help to take down an evil ex.

𝒄 𝒐 𝒏 𝒕 𝒆 𝒏 𝒕 : loosely inspired by watching the detectives, film major! vernon who owns an outdated film store, fem! reader is the baddest (but also the craziest) bitch in this fic, vernon is a loser, film major! mingyu who will be violated many times in this fic sorry king, mentions of many filmbro films which will also be violated, self-indulgent mentions of some of my favourite films, a few super dark jokes nothing serious though, kissing, mentions of sex and the act of cumming (all joking wise) but no actual sex because im fearing god today (super suggestive at best), barbenheimer reference <3

𝒕 𝒂 𝒈 𝒍 𝒊 𝒔 𝒕 : @hyuckworld @junyangis @hiraethmae @lllucere @intoanothermind @kokoiinuts @shnnzsworld @lilifiedeans @talkyoongitome @vanishingboots @cookiearmy @person1fys

𝒂 𝒖 𝒕 𝒉 𝒐 𝒓 ' 𝒔 𝒏 𝒐 𝒕 𝒆 : she is finally here !! so so sorry for taking so long </3 i never thought it would be finished atp but thank you addy and alice for pushing me to complete this lil fic !! addy ur film major info birthed the filmbro slander, and alice...no smut LMAO LOSER anyway do enjoy homies <33

𝒑 𝒍 𝒂 𝒚 𝒍 𝒊 𝒔 𝒕 : if you're too shy (then let me know) by the 1975 || q&a by seventeen || wonderful women by the smiths || confidence by ocean alley || talk talk by charli xcx || oh my! by seventeen

“NO, THE HOBBIT IS SET BEFORE THE LORD OF THE RINGS.”

This particular customer, however, refused to grasp the concept. “But the Hobbit was released after,” he repeated, as if he had not heard twenty minutes ago, when he first entered the store. “Wouldn’t it make sense to watch the more recent movies?”

Vernon clamped his lips together, stopping himself from saying something that would lose him a potential buyer. Well, not that it would matter much, considering the man before him could not comprehend what a prequel was, but still—he had to make this idiot understand.

“I understand that, sir, but the Hobbit is a prequel to the Lord of the Rings.” Holding onto the dvd set, he pointed to the grand picture of the movie’s protagonist. “It’s based on Bilbo Baggins’ adventures.”

“But was that not the little fellow from the Rings?”

“No, sir, that was Frodo. Bilbo is Frodo’s uncle.” The boy then clarified, tone heightening, “You know, where he reclaims his home from Smaug?”

“Smog?” The customer parroted incorrectly, scratching his hair as if the action would jog his memory. “Now why does this hobbit’s home have health violations?”

The twist of his lips was inevitable. “Smaug,” he corrected. “The dragon…the villain…the whole reason the movie was created?”

“See, I only know that one slimy creature with the ring. What was he always saying…” The man snapped his fingers, a lightbulb switching in his otherwise empty brain. “Ah, yes!” He then completely distorted his voice, rasping, “My presh-shious!”

For a split second, Vernon was a little gob-smacked at the impression. Then, he remembered he needed sales, and made sure to laugh as if that customer was the funniest man that ever stepped foot in the store. 

This particular joker, who was clearly not understanding Vernon’s analogies, instead asked, “Well, which one do you recommend?”

Ah, the fated question. 

Besides from the Lord of the Rings collection, he had been asked this very question a few too many times, when customers would browse the films on offer and ask for his opinion. Not that he considered himself an all-knowing master of movies—

He smiled. Now that was something he could chuckle about.

“Well, sir, the Lord of the Rings is a timeless classic. I would recommend it to anyone interested in a well-written, well-produced fantasy.”

The man twisted his lips. “But I don’t really like fantasy, though.” 

Vernon could not help his smile dropping. I don’t get paid enough for this.

With as much strength he could muster, he persuaded the idiot to get a rom-com instead, and ushered him out. 

He sighed, going back to the desk. The store was never busy—unsurprising, since nobody buys DVDs anymore—but that was how he liked it. The less customers that bothered him, the better. He did not want to be that type of guy, but he would rather have his own company than those who thought that the Marvel movies were God’s gift to man. (The Spiderman movies, however, he had to leave out of his apparently controversial statement).

Vernon was about to close the shop out of pure boredom when someone stepped in. 

His eyes darted to the newcomer. 

They stayed as he beheld you.

Perhaps this was a gross generalisation, but he did not expect someone so cute walking in a store this run-down. Maybe you had mistaken it for a vintage shop, planning to rob the CDs, or thought there might be decades old clothing in here. He was certain you had walked in by mistake, but then you began to browse the movie sections.

His first thought was that you seemed to have excellent taste. 

You slowed your steps in the classics section, eyes roaming at the Fan Favourites shelf which was simply movies Vernon had seen this week. Still, they were amazing fucking movies, hence their place on the shelf, now being admired by the likes of you. He wondered what you thought of the one DVD you picked up, assessing the blurb at the back. Roman Holiday. The boy could have smiled—you truly had a knack for picking out special films. 

Your fingers lingered on the movies for only a couple of minutes before you saw the desk—first the counter, and then the person behind it. 

The fact that your first instinct was to smile at the boy behind the counter had a profound effect on him.

Now, he did not want to sound pathetic; he did not know you, had never seen you before, but someone this aesthetically pleasing did not come to stores like his. Someone who picks up Roman fucking Holiday and be this cute did not acknowledge boys like him.

But Vernon Chwe will be cool about it. He will not look like a loser in front of you.

He pretended to look over some DVDs on the counter desk as you approached him. “Hey, there,” you greeted, and only then he allowed himself to look up, glancing you over. Already you had propped your arms on the top, eyes darting around the store as if finding something which deserved your attention. “I wanted to ask about a specific film. Well, films.” 

Films? Vernon really thought all the intelligent minds had rotted in this lifetime, but clearly you were an exception. “Of course,” he said, setting the movie on the side. “What genres are you interested in?” he ticked his head towards the Fan Favourites. “You were looking in the right place, to be fair.”

“Hmm?” you only spared that shelf a momentary—dismissive—glance. “Oh, sorry! I was looking for a specific box-set, but I can’t seem to find it on the shelves. I was hoping you could have it out back.”

Specific box-set? Vernon tried to contain his smile. Of course you were looking for a collection of timeless classics. “What’re you looking for?” he asked you, hoping you were going to request Hitchcock’s best. If you asked for Wong Kar-Wai’s trilogy, he might have fallen to his knees. 

You smiled at him.

Then dropped the bomb.

“I don’t know if you’d have the Disney Princess box set? You know, the complete edition?”

Vernon’s eye twitched a little. What the fuck?

Your gaze on him did not shift. “Are you okay?”

It took a moment for him to realise that you had asked him a question. “Huh? Right, sorry,” he said hurriedly, mind rushing for the many possibilities as to why you had requested a set like that. Perhaps you were braindead? No, that was too harsh. But then, who was watching Disney movies at that age?

Then an idea came into his head, and it made him feel much better. 

“So sorry about that,” he reiterated, scratching the back of his neck. “Anyway…Disney Princess set, huh?” He sighed out a laugh. “A sweet treat for your younger siblings, then.”

“Younger siblings?” A swift shake of your head, still smiling. “Haven’t got any of those.” 

The twitching was back. “...anyone under the age of 12 you know?”

“Now you’re making me sound like a freak,” you mused, locking your hands together. “Is it that shocking that I’m getting the set for myself?”

Vernon’s any attempt to diffuse the conversation died the moment you said those words.

Disney. Princess. Movies. The box-set you wanted was a Disney. Fucking. Princess box-set. 

At this rate, his eye-twitching was very much visible to you. “Don’t tell me no one’s ever bought a Disney movie from you,” you said, surprised by his change of attitude.

“Well,” he jeered, “I usually have first-time parents with their toddler kids asking me about sets like that.” 

You then titled your head back a little, taken aback with the comment. “Are you saying I’m too old to watch Disney movies?”

“No!” he instinctively defended himself, though he had virtually no defence to offer. He had, in his own words, called you a hag. 

This was it—he was usually stellar at keeping his opinions to himself. Now, the one time he could have kept his mouth shut, it spluttered open and not only embarrassed him, but one of the only cute potential customers. He was his own saboteur. His own destruction. 

After catching the flurry of emotions on his face, you had a realisation. 

Did his stupid comments get to you? Perhaps they would have, had you not seen his like before. Not only that, you had a sneaky feeling he himself had no clue on what category he was slotted into.

So you let the corners of your mouth curve upwards—up to the point where you were smirking, completely catching the boy off guard. 

“My god, you’re a filmbro!” 

Those emotions that you had witnessed now all conjoined into confusion. “Huh?” was his intelligent answer to the accusation. Filmbro?

And then you began to chuckle—little bursts of soft giggles, which escaped your mouth the more the revelation settled over you. “Wait, wait,” you began, “I need to ask this first!” You wiggled your finger at him. “What is your favourite film?”

Again, the fated question. This time, though, he felt as if his answer would not be the right one. Still—if there was one thing he was confident about, it was his expertise in films.

He tried, as confidently as he could, to voice out his supposed opinion. “Nolan’s Inception is one of the greatest films ever made.” 

There was one, solitary, quiet moment.

It was ruined by the subsequent laughter, courtesy of your mouth, which could not shut after his answer. You had to grip the counter, cackling at the response, and Vernon could only gawk at you, face reddening with every second spent watching you keel over. 

After what seemed like a lifetime (but was only about thirty seconds), Vernon finally cleared his throat. “Alright now, that’s enough comedy,” he muttered.

Another thirty seconds later, you finally seemed to calm down. The mischievous mirth on your face, although would have had any man swooning at your feet, seemed to irritate him all the more. “I’m sorry,” you gasped out, wiping a slight tear from your eye, “You just…you reminded me of my boyfriend.”

Of course. Vernon nearly clicked his tongue in disappointment. Of course the pretty, borderline-mean, borderline-terrible-taste-in-movies girl was taken. Fuck my life, son.

Your smile flickered—almost as if it turned cruel. “My mistake…ex-boyfriend.”

His eyebrow then raised a little. Maybe life can be unfucked; maybe the pretty, not-that-mean-as-he-thought, changeable-taste-in-movies girl was still attainable. 

Your eyes wandered once more, but this time to your hands. “I was actually going to get the Disney Princess set for him.”

The eyebrow decided to raise further up. He was dying to know why you were 1) getting your ex-boyfriend a present and 2) getting your ex-boyfriend the worst fucking present. But of course, due to the lack of balls in his pants, he did not ask you.

The crazier notion was, maybe you knew the lack of balls that should be present in his pants, because you iterated for him. “I’m surprised you’re not asking why I’m giving my ex a Disney Princess movie set, Mr. Filmbro.”

That term had him immediately frowning. “I don’t particularly care,” he lied as best as he could. He then crossed his arms. “Plus, I’m afraid the store doesn’t have the sets. I’m gonna have to order them in.”

A tilt of your head. “Are you lying?”

The cross of his arms was gone—now his hands were raised in surrender. “No, no!” At least not the set order bit…

Although it was quite clear that you did not believe him, you spared him this once. “Alright…” you receded your arms from the desk, taking a step back. Instead, you pointed at him. “But don’t think I’m gonna leave you alone on this!” 

Vernon’s insanely suave, cool, mystique response was giving you a thumb’s up. “Of course.” 

As you walked back to the entrance, hand on the door, you looked back at him. “I’ll see you soon, Mr. Filmbro.” 

The eye-twitch was about to come back. He did not bother waving as you left the shop.

VERNON COULD NOT STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU FOR THE SEVEN DAYS BETWEEN YOU AND TODAY. 

It was slightly embarrassing—he supposed he should have expected some extraordinary meet-cute, where someone who looked and acted like you would waltz into his dusty-ass film store and ask for possibly the worst movie collection to grace the western cinema. 

But then you called him a fucking Filmbro, and now the self-hatred might bubble to the surface of his usual calm demeanour. 

The boy scoffed as he fixed the alphabetical order of the CD covers, located in the Classics section. Filmbro…what the fuck do I look like a Filmbro for…

He firstly supposed that he should consider it a compliment—so what if he had superior knowledge of movies over the average morons that wandered into the store? He was paid minimum wage for this knowledge! Fuck, he was doing a degree within this field! (Not that he was quite sure he would end up as a blockbuster director at the fine age of 21, but the arts majors were always told to dream beyond the realistic limits.)

The more he contemplated over the vicious term, the more it began to bother him. Filmbro…Film. Bro. God, it sounded like a classist clique—a club where the members considered themselves above the laws of society, but were horrendously ridiculed by the outsiders. At the end of the day, he had always been an outsider in these clubs—he did not enjoy being the laughing stock, even if it meant being a member of an elitist group. 

Whatever. So what if you called him a Filmbro? He had only spoken to you once; the opinion of one girl—regardless of how pretty she was—was not of any relevance to him.

But then you sauntered into his store, and suddenly he forgot that he was seething over you for an entire week. 

There you were, footsteps harmonising along the bells of the entrance, and he swerved back to see you. You, in all your frill-skirted, layered-shirted, gum-chewing glory, catching his eye and bringing back the smile which you had offered him the moment you bestowed him that term of little-endearment. 

“Hello again, Mr. Filmbro.”

Don’t be a prick, don’t be a prick, don’t be a prick—

It was fine—it was okay. Vernon was a man now—no longer in his teens. He could have a normal, pleasant conversation. He was mature and able enough to interact with a girl who just happened to disagree with him on certain interests. 

He would be cordial—kind.

“How can I help you, Miss Disney-Hag?”

His skin nearly crawled. I need to kill myself immediately. 

A bit of a low blow from his nickname, but you were laughing, a silly little melody. You must have been crazy, because any other sane, rational human being would have been offended—should have been offended. Vernon fought to keep his face straight. 

“I see you’ve been thinking about me then,” you said. 

That had him looking away, walking behind the counter. “It’s not everyday I get a grown-ass woman asking me about children’s films.”

You mocked a gasp, slapping a hand over your chest. “Ouch. Do you hurt every girl that walks into your filmstore, or is this special treatment reserved for me?

Vernon focused on the cash in the register. “When another girl asks for the special edition for the Cinderella trilogy, then I’ll hurt her just the same.”

You clicked your tongue. “I should have known all men suck in their own ways.” You then approached the counter, propping your elbows atop the surface. “At least show me you’re good at your job and bring me the movie set I ordered.”

At this precise moment, all the thoughts about your stubborn addiction, playful smirk and how terrible the Little Mermaid was had completely vanished.

Shit. 

Maybe his irrational dislike ran further than he thought.

“Yeah…” but then he realised he sounded incredibly suspicious, and cleared his throat, forcing a little assurance in his usual monotone. “Yes! Yeah, of course! The movie set.” He took a step back, nodding his head ever so slowly, as if his head was not churning out a million different plans. “Give me one second…”

“Sure,” you could barely get out before Vernon whirled on his heel, bursting through the backstage door, and into the Chwe flat. 

He did not know whether this was going to work out. 

Like lightning he ascended the stairs, hands brushing against the bannister as he went past his bedroom, door slightly ajar. Not the destination he was seeking, he stopped before the neighbouring door—this one firmly closed. 

The boy made sure to knock first. No answer. Perfect. Slowly turning the knob, he opened the door, peeking around just in case there was someone in the room, and then he would have to resort to more planning. Since the coast was crystal clear, though, he put his mind at ease, only focusing on the main plan.

The room he had entered was a myriad of pop culture references and childhood memories, plastered on the butterfly-covered walls, sitting atop bedside tables or hanging off the hooks. Vernon never realised how invested his sister was with certain TV shows or films till he saw Lindsay Lohan’s mugshot plastered next to her bed. He had asked about it once, but she only waved him off. You wouldn’t understand her impact, she had said to him, and went back to shitting about him to her friends. 

Prying away from the poster, his eyes settled on what he came for, settled in the middle of the huge book shelf.

Sofia prided herself with her book and movie collection, a hereditary trait which Vernon shared: the top and bottom shelves were filled with her all-time favourites, even resorting to furthering her obsessions with the merch related to her treasured characters. He remembered laughing at her ideas until he saw a Barbie FunkoPop figure staring back at him one day. That notion was already horrendous, but the black, soulless eyes had guaranteed its spot in his sleep paralysis the next day.

Thankfully, the little horror was not on show on her bookshelf—this time, right in the middle, was the very prize that he sought. 

The Disney Princess Movie Set—Complete Edition.

Packaged in pink casing, Sofia’s most treasured piece sat, almost with its head held high as the other movies orbited around its pull. As far as Vernon remembered, it held all the Princess movies, and was worth at least 6 hours of his wages.

The boy looked around the room, as if his sister would appear any second.

Then, like a thief in the night (even though it was broad daylight, and would definitely be caught), he swiped the set off the bookshelf, and hurried out of her room.

“Sorry, Sofe,” he could only murmur under his breath as he dashed down the stairs, hoping you had not been bored by his absence, and left him with stolen goods at the scene of the crime.

He opened the door adjacent to the shop, and he almost sighed in relief when you perked up, eyes darting straight to your apparent order. When he saw your face light up like fireworks in the night sky, he titled his head back a bit, stunned by your boisterous reaction.

“You actually bought it!” you exclaimed, drumming your hands against the counter as he set the movies down. “I had a feeling you would blow me off.”

“Business is business,” Vernon said, crossing his arms, “Shit taste in movies will not stop me from making my money.”

You clicked your tongue. “Spoken like a business major.”

“Film major, thank you. I would rather kill myself than submit to the horrors of finance.”

“Don’t die on me just yet.” Bringing out your purse, you fished through its contents, first setting your card on the counter. Then, you brought out a crumpled piece of paper. “I actually have a few more films I want to ask about.”

The boy was expecting another long list of early 2000s rom-coms—perhaps an opinion for every Disney movie ever made in its existence. He swore if he had to hear about Rachel McAdams’ versatility one more time, he might blow his brains out in front of a customer. 

Then you dropped the names, and he had to surge his head forward.

“What are your thoughts on Wolf of Wall Street, American Psycho, Pulp Fiction…Fight Club, Saving Private Ryan, Scarface…” You squinted at the list, finding the names neverending. “Jeez, this list keeps going, huh?” 

He could not help the scoff. “And you called me a Filmbro.” He set his forearms on the counter, locking his hands together. “What do you need these movies for?”

“They’re for my ex-boyfriend.” 

The term had him pausing. Of course—the ex-boyfriend. How has he heard of this man, but not know a thing about him? Shit, he did not even know your name.

“This ex of yours has…an interesting taste,” he said slowly. “What’s he like?”

“I can tell you he attends the same college as you. Well, us,” you clarified, jerking your head towards the college colours of your server’s hoodie. “Film major. Just like you, actually.” 

“Oh?” Small world. “What’s the name?”

“Kim Mingyu. Do you know him?” 

Vernon Chwe nearly shit his oversized jeans.

A hesitant nod of his head. “I have a few classes with him.”

“Oh?” Your stare was a little more intense now. “What do you think of him?”

Right. 

Another fated question—the people around him had to stop asking him such controversial questions, or else he was bound to piss someone off. You were already letting him off the hook too many times; one more judgemental comment, and he was having that Princess movie set smashed on his head.

Kim Mingyu. Fuckass Kim Mingyu. Film major—just like him. One of the most popular boys in the year—very unlike him. All the teachers love his essays, all the girls love his freakishly-perfect six-pack, which Vernon is extremely irritated (and devastatingly intimidated) by. 

What all these people failed to realise, though, was that Mingyu was the biggest piece of shit to grace the halls of his university—and the planet, if dramatics were in order. If you thought that Vernon was a filmbro, then Mingyu was Filmbrother. Filmcomrade. Filmnemesis. 

It was as if you could hear the thoughts churning in his head. “You can be honest, you know. He did dump me at the end of the day.” A smirk began to appear. “Say your worst.”

The reassurance did not help. “I mean,” he started, swiping your card, “He’s okay? I haven’t talked to him enough to have an opinion on him.” 

A half-truth—that should suffice. 

But because the fates like to shit on his head every now and then for kicks, they decided to leave you unsatisfied with his answer. “Or, you can keep lying!” 

Excellent intuition, really. “I’m not!” he exclaimed, slapping the card back on the counter. “I really don’t know much about him.”

The big man upstairs was testing him even further, when, with a determined gaze, you set your elbows atop the surface. You leaned closer, tilting your head to the side as you inspected him, and Vernon blinked back at the sheer lack of space you had created. His mouth twisted, eyes frantically darting at the features of your face, not quite taking in the entirety of your being. Your vision seemed to work perfectly, because it caught the slight flush at the tops of his cheeks, where it was just pale skin seconds before.

Your smirk deepened. “Judging by your blush, you’re either terrible at lying…or,” you offered, voice lowering a little as you drummed your fingers against the counter, “You’ve never had a hot girl this close to you.” 

Fuck everything and everyone, because that only made him blush more furiously. You could not help the chuckle that escaped, deciding to cease torturing him and take your card. “I’ll not say the answer, Mr. Filmbro, but I think you already know.”

Since he had no plans of turning into a human form of a ketchup bottle, he evaded the topic entirely, instead focusing on interrogating you. “You still haven’t told me how Mingyu is related to the movie list you made.”

That seemed to hold your interest. “Oh, of course!” Putting the list back into your bag, you began, “Well, the list holds my ex-boyfriend’s favourite films. I wanted to know your opinion on a few.”

He could not contain his sigh. Oh, he had an opinion on these films that you mentioned. Again, he would rather be buried with his thoughts on the specific genre than ever tell you. The curiosity, though, was eventually going to eat him alive.

So much for minding his business.

“I mean…” he began to think, trying to find the right words. “I don’t mind them? Godfather is a good film, but I’ve seen better from Brando. I like American Psycho, but again, people tend to miss the point of the movie.”

As you nodded, listening to his two-cents on the movies you mentioned, he paused, furrowing his brows. “Why do you care about my opinion?”

You smacked your lips together, folding the list back. “I don’t know much about you, Mr. Filmbro,” you began, “But you don’t run a filmstore without knowing a thing or two about the films you sell.”

“So?” He crossed his arms atop the counter. “Shouldn’t you have asked the guy who you made the list about?”

“Trust me,” you said, your smirk turning more into a rageful flash of teeth, “I know exactly what he thinks of these films.”

Don’t particularly know what to make of that comment. “Well, I don’t know what my opinion for these films is going to help you in any way.”

“It has helped.” You paused then, waiting to see if he would egg you on, asking how his seemingly tame opinions would play into the grand scheme of things. “All part of my master plan.”

Master plan? Vernon may have been interested before, but he was certain that, before, he could have hid it without letting you catch onto it. In a sudden flash, though, as if his mouth was beyond his control, he regrettably slipped out the words which had you smiling more than he would have liked.

“What master plan?”

He almost closed his eyes. Shit. Now I’m fucking invested.

The corners of your mouth, lifting upwards, had him almost nervous. “I was hoping you would say that.” 

Great. Brilliant. Fantastic. Fucking Stupendous. Vernon could not think of other pretentious synonyms. “I will tell you, Mr. Filmbro,” you began, once again settling your locked hands on the counter, “If you help me out with it.” 

That had his eyebrow shooting upwards. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what I intended.” A pause. “Look, I know it’s a little crazy…being asked by someone to help in some mysterious plan. But hey!” you added, “You know who the target is, and you know I can be trusted.”

“Calling your ex-boyfriend a target makes this sound like a contract killing. Also, I actually don’t know that,” he corrected, crossing his arms. “The only thing I know about you is your weird obsession with children’s movies.”

“Well, buddy, that’s basically my entire personality, so you don’t need to know any more!”

Vernon sucked in a breath. “I don’t even know your name.”

Your eyes darted to his features, the sharp brows, the speculative eyes, the flared nostrils. His lips, which were twisted in a curious, bemused line. “That’s an easy problem to solve.” You decided to battle his frown with a smile. “_____.”

_____. At least he knew one important thing about you. He swore Mingyu had mentioned your name before, but then he should not also hold certainty—that boy’s favourite subject had always been himself. 

You snapped him out of his thoughts. “This is when you tell me your name now…or do you enjoy being called a filmbro?”

Man…he could not look you in the eye afterwards. “I don’t…” he got out, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “And it’s Vernon. Chwe Vernon.” 

“Vernon,” you repeated, lips curling upwards. “Alright, Vernon, since both of us know each other’s names, you can definitely help me now!” 

The said-boy tried to smile, which was more a grimace. “Well…”

“Tell you what,” you said, trying to find something in your bag. “Wait, give me a second…shit, where is that piece of paper…?” You finally managed to fish a crumpled piece out. “Right!” After catching sight of a pen lying around the counter, you took it and scribbled something quickly, sending it his way.

Taking it, he looked at the messy scribbles—your number. “You’re looking at it as if I passed you a death threat,” you snickered. Vernon gave an uneasy smile. “Just think it over. I need movie expertise, and there’s no one else I know who can help me more than a guy who runs a film store.”

The boy behind the counter listened to you, paper still in hand. Maybe Mingyu made some points breaking up with you—you did not know who Vernon was, save for the name that was tied to him, and the job he was forced to do by his parents. Realistically, he had to decline, because if he has ever learned something in his life—or from watching a myriad of golden age romantic tragedies—is that you never trust the beautiful, crazy girls. 

“Hey,” he heard you say, and he swore your chirp had softened. “I’ll go ahead with my plan in a week’s time. If I don’t hear from you, then I’ll know your answer. You don’t have to tell me now.” When he looked at you, he saw your expression shift. “That’s why I only gave the paper.” 

He supposed he could appreciate this sentiment. “Thanks,” he could only say, pocketing your number. “Is there…anything else you want? Aside from the—” a snide glance at the DVD set—”the movie?” 

“I saw that,” you scoffed, taking hold of the movie set. “And no, I’m alright. I’ll bother you about children’s movies another time.” 

“I’ll make sure these children’s movies are all conveniently sold out when you come,” he countered without thinking. 

You could only shake your head, trying to contain your laugh. “Careful, or I just might bother you after the plan.” 

Vernon did not know what he felt at that notion—would he want that? However, he did not have time to ponder, since you were already heading for the door. As you nearly left the store, bell ringing, he did not hear the door close. He glanced up, catching you looking at him with an indecipherable expression. “Yes?”

You waited a moment before parting your mouth. “I hope to hear from you, Mr. Filmbro.” 

With that, you swiftly exited the store, leaving this Mr. Filmbro even more helpless than he was between the seven days between your first encounter, and now this very second. 

“JO MADE SENSE WITH FRIEDRICH AT THE END. SHE SIMPLY…NEEDED A MAN AFTER PINING FOR LAURIE.”

The professor listened in the small circle, the rest of the students typing or writing down the answer. “Like, realistically,” Mingyu went on, twisting his mechanical pencil between his fingers, “The whole point of the movie is her relationship with Laurie, and that was shattered the moment he married Amy. Friedrich was like…” he pouted in thought, furrowing his brows. “The light at the end of the tunnel…does that make sense, Minghao?”

The said-man nodded. “Interesting take,” he noted, walking closer to the circle he was teaching. “So you agree that Jo needed Friedrich at the end of the film?”

“Absolutely.”

There were a few murmurs around the room, majority of them agreeing with the golden boy who was sitting at the head of the circular, white table. Vernon, who was sat one girl away from him, typed furiously in his laptop, adding to his notes. MINGYU IS A FUCKING IDIOT…CINEMATICALLY ILLITERATE…BORDERLINE MISOGYNIST…Okay, perhaps he was exaggerating on the last one, but his analysis of the question pissed him off. 

Did Jo need Friedrich at the end of the movie? Was what Professor Minghao had asked them about an hour ago. Vernon knew the answer immediately, and, although did not share it with the seminar, was surprised to be disagreed by the majority of the class. Not surprising, however, when his class was filled with men who could not imagine a woman in a film wanting anything else but a man beside her. 

Whatever, he thought, straying from the web page and instead checking the release date for Oppenheimer when he heard your name crop up amongst the discourse in the table. 

“Did _____ actually?” 

“Oh, yeah, said she thought Jo should have been on her own.” A click of tongue. “Not surprising, coming from her.” 

Vernon instantly perked up, fingers pausing on the keyboard. Not surprising? The boy was actually floored at that opinion—and how valid you were for expressing it. 

“I mean,” another girl, right next to him, chimed in, “Didn’t you say she was really stupid, Gyu?”

“God, I don’t know where to begin,” Mingyu said, aghast, and the boy who eavesdropped felt a little dread at every word that escaped his mouth. “Everytime I watched a movie with her she always got bored, or argued with me when I tried to explain shit to her.” 

“I remember we sat with her while we were tryna do our film project last semester,” the boy beside Mingyu recalled. “She had no fucking clue who Martin Scorcese was, man!” 

The group audibly gasped, save for Vernon, who could not help himself, refusing to mind his business. Nasty habit this—he made a note to call you out for this later on, should you walk into his store again. 

Fuck. He did not want that. Of course he did not. He should stop thinking about it too. 

You, that is.

“She’s gotta be the dumbest one yet, Gyu,” the boy snickered, snapping his laptop shut. 

“You don’t even know the half of it,” the dumper groaned, raking through his locks. “You know she was always watching those fucking Disney princess movies?” Vernon’s eyes widened a little. “Man, I remember she wouldn’t get enough of them. Like, what are you, six? Why the fuck am I watching a movie about a midget dragon?”

Then, Mingyu said the words that made the eavesdropper’s spirits shot down. 

“_____ may have been hot, but she was one stupid bitch. Thank god I got rid of her.” 

The others agreed. He may have spoken more on the matter of your lack of media literacy, but the professor was back, and the seminar had quietened, all in focus. 

All except for the boy who had not given his two cents on the matter, frozen solid at the conversation that occurred. What the fuck was that? He had first thought, over and over to the point that he nearly typed it in the seminar document. He had always known Mingyu was an asshole, but what he said about you gave him a very uneasy feeling.  

What sent him over the edge was that a lot of his grievances sounded identical to Vernon’s own words. 

Miss Disney Hag he had called you—to your face he had insulted your taste in films, and you had only laughed. He wondered how you felt when it was Mingyu amplifying those very opinions on a daily basis. 

A frown marred his features. Damn it. He knew he was a loser, but he did not know he was an asshole. Like Mingyu…

Vernon visibly shivered. 

As Minghao voiced out the objectives for the second half of the seminar, the boy brought his hand into his trouser pocket, slipping out the paper. He looked over your number, the messy scribbles dancing in his eyes. Darting to his phone on the table, he held it in his free hand, looking over the contacts. 

“Damn it,” he said under his breath. 

Was he going to regret this? Most probably. Will you probably make him do something that would result in a fatal injury, and land a permanent stain on his social record? One hundred percent. 

If he knew these things already, then what he should have done was toss the paper in the nearest bin. What he did instead, as he typed in some vital information in his phone, was something that changed his life (or at least the life he will live for the next few weeks).

vernon: u dont have to wait till next week 

vernon: ill help u with the plan

There. And now, he shall wait.

Which, he pondered as he saw the immediate response, was not very long. 

normal disney enjoyer: wait who tf is this??

Oops. 

vernon: oh mb this is vernon lmao

vernon: from the filmstore

normal disney enjoyer: oh damn why didn’t u say so !! freaky ass text 

vernon: ??? ive said it now tf

normal disney enjoyer: and im happy u have ;)

Well. Vernon sighed a little, trying to focus back on his work, but to no avail.

Let’s see what you have in store for the next week.

VERNON WAS WONDERING WHETHER HE STILL HAD TIME TO KILL HIMSELF. 

It could be quick—maybe if he jumped in front of the next incoming car, full speed, he might suffer a haemorrhage in his brain, and die bleeding out as his parents took him to the hospital. Of course, that does mean that it would be slow and excruciating, but he thought that nothing would be as painful as whatever you had planned for him.

Come on…maybe it won’t be that bad. Perhaps his thoughts were spiralling too quickly. Perhaps his assumptions of you were a stretch, and that all this anxiousness, pent up in him, would wash away the moment he saw your car pulling up to the store’s driveway.

He felt himself prepare mentally as, eventually, your small, red car slowed in front of him. Right before him, he saw the passenger window roll down, and he caught sight of your smiling face, teeth showing. 

Perhaps it truly would not be as bad as he imagined. 

“Get in loser, we’re going trespassing.”

Nevermind.

“Oh my God,” was the unsatisfying answer to your perfect reference. Seriously, you should not bother saving your precious material on such a lame boy, but there was something so exciting about his eyes sharply rolling, colour staining the tops of his cheeks. “I’m not doing this if you’re going to quote terrible movies the entire night.”

“First of all, fuck you. Mean Girls birthed half of your customers.” You flicked the lock on the passenger door, pushing it open. “Second, you don’t have a choice. You’ve agreed to ruin Mingyu’s life.”

“First of all yourself, I did not agree to that.” Begrudgingly, he settled shotgun, snapping the car door shut. “Second, Mean Girls was a waste of Rachel McAdams’ talent.” 

You scoffed, starting the car. “I don’t take opinions from men who can’t drive.” 

This shut the boy up nicely, clamping his lips together in quiet shame. He wished he could argue with that—you, he feared, had a good point. Despite that, it was not his fault that his parents insisted on the reliance of public transport; the bus was his greatest villain—aside from the middle school kids in his store that always ask for the next FIFA game. 

You could not help taking a second glance at him, chuckling at his defeat. “Don’t be sad, Mr. FIlmbro,” you reassured him, changing gears. “I like my men a little pathetic.” 

That did not help at all—his eyes widened, gawking at you, but you were already looking ahead, pressing your foot on the accelerator. 

“Jesus!” he exclaimed as he held onto his seat, taken aback by your sudden rush of speed. “I thought you wanted to kill Mingyu, not yourself!”

“My bad,” you only said, turning right. “I’m just so excited! You know, getting there.” 

“I can see that,” he mumbled, looking away from you into the back. Strapped in with the seatbelt, bizarrely, was Sofia’s Disney Princess Set, as if the dozen-movie box was a toddler in need of extra assistance. What the fuck…?

“I’m having these films in pristine condition, Vernon,” you explained, though it still made no sense in his head. “You understand, don’t you?”

Of course not. “Sure.” 

He waited for further explanation, which, as the silence continued, you decided to throw him the conversational bone. “I don’t just carry the set around with me, you know.”

Sure. “Of course not.” 

“It’s relevant to today’s plan,” was all you would offer, speeding more to reach the destination quicker. Vernon held onto the belt a little tighter, still eyeing the movie set rather suspiciously before focusing back on the road. 

The drive was not long—perhaps thirty minutes at most—but he knew he was leaving the rougher parts of the city when nicer neighbourhoods welcomed his vision, the litter on the roads disappearing, instead trees in an orderly line painting the sides of the pavement. The further you drove into these suburbs, the more he was surprised at the sheer luxury of the exterior of these houses; granted, he did not originate from poverty, but his idea of a holiday was three days in the comforts of his bed, bingeing the Miyazaki collection with a lifetime supply of mint chocolate chip ice cream on his lap. 

Vernon had to save his mouth dropping to the seat of the car floor when they rolled into the Kim household’s drive. 

He was aware that Mingyu derived from wealth—the former could not help noticing his pricey, flashy brands every time the taller boy sauntered into the Film Sound classes, but he did not expect this Bridgerton-ass looking house, nestled in between the other million-dollar homes in the neighbourhood. He was greeted with a clearer picture the closer you parked in their drive, surprisingly empty; it was around that moment that you noticed that all the lights were turned off in the house, almost a haunting image. 

The boy was on his way to make a comment about your terrible spying skills when you rebuffed him immediately, saying, “I know what you’re thinking. I have it covered.”

“Please tell me, Miss Bond, how are you planning to carry this out?”

You offered him an incredulous look. “I don’t know what that reference means, I’m too pretty.”

His answer to that was a thin, long line of his mouth. You chose to ignore it completely. “Mingyu’s parents are out of town right now, and his sister’s on a ski-trip in Austria.”

A glance of confusion. “In the middle of March?” 

A shrug. “You know what rich people are like.” Weirdly enough, he knew exactly what you were talking about. “But it worked out great for us.” With a hard exhale you got out of the car, the boy beside you reflecting your actions. “All the easier for what we have to do.” You opened the car door behind the driver’s one, unstrapping the seatbelt and carefully bringing out the movie set. 

“How’re we getting into the evil lair, then?” he asked dryly, crossing both his arms. “I assume the millionaires don’t happen to put a spare key under the carpet?”

“Imagine,” you said, sighing melodramatically. “I tried making them do it so I could sneak into his house, but for some reason, Mingyu never agreed to it.” 

“I wonder why,” he muttered.

“Worry not, young grasshopper!” You strolled to the very right of the house, where a thin wooden door was almost hidden from view. “Where there is a door closed, another is mysteriously open.” 

With a hard push, the door trudged back, swinging heavily away. He stared at it, not quite believing how someone can be so careless to keep their gates unlocked. “Another weakness of Mingyu’s—” You pointed at the cleared path into the house—”whenever he leaves from the garden, he never locks the gate.”

Vernon could not quite believe it. “Either the wealthy are incredibly secured in their safety, or stupid as fuck.”

“I think you know the answer to that,” you joked, going further into the journey, ushering him over. Like a siren calling his name, he followed you, unaware of the shit you might be getting him into. 

Into the fancy garden they arrived, clean-cut hedges bordering in dozens of flower bushes, peppered also with a few fruit trees—berries of every kind ripening on the green. While Vernon admired the natural luxury, you hurried to the nearby shed, where a ladder was situated right beside it. “Quick, help me out here!” you shouted in a whisper, ushering him over. Dropping the DVD set for a moment, you grunted as you held the large ladder up with his assistance, slowly making its way to the brick wall of the house. “Wait, line it up against that window over there,” you instructed, jerking your head towards the far right window, no doubt on the second floor. Once the ladder was lined up properly, you moved the boy out of the way, shaking the rails to make sure it stayed put. 

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Vernon muttered, watching you take the Disney Princess set in one hand, the other making the first step on the calendar. “We can still…you know, not commit breaking and entering.” 

“You can happily leave, Mr. Filmbro,” you offered, looking up at your destination. 

That had him scoffing. “My ass is not walking two hours back to my house.” 

“That seems more like a you problem then!” you chirped. “Now are you following me up, or pussying out?”

Once again, pussying out seemed like the obvious choice for the boy. He was not made for missions such as these—he was merely meant to watch other people act out said missions in front of his television. Unfortunately, because he was too far away from the film store, it was either sitting it out, waiting for you to come out and do something diabolical, or at least watch over you should you cross a line (if the latter were the case, then Vernon had already failed). 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he kept uttering like a mantra, waiting for you to climb up enough to hold onto the ladder as he began to follow after you. He made the mistake of looking up as you climbed up, and he got a full, HD view of your ass. He tried his very best to look away out of some semblance of respect, but you also made the mindful decision of wearing the shortest skirt known to man. His fuck, fuck fucks! rang louder, causing you to shush him.

“Stop freaking out, my guy!” you called out, right on the top of the ladder. “I know my ass is crazy built but this is not the time.”

“That’s not why I’m freaking out, _____!” he countered, but knowing you, you did not care for his explanations. He only waited as you pushed open the slight-open window, all the way to the top before climbing inside.

As he reached the top of the ladder, he watched you dust yourself before glancing back at him, ushering him inside. “Here goes nothing,” he said to himself, hands on the top of the window ledge as he put his foot on the sill, pushing himself inside. 

Vernon dropped into the unknown room, an oof! leaving his mouth as he landed rather ungraciously on his feet. Quickly, he looked up, surroundings rather dimmed due to the lack of lighting. Still, with the help of the moonlight, he could slowly make out the huge smart TV in the middle of the bedroom, beneath it a wide shelf filled with DVDs, some opened and scattered on the carpeted floor. The bed was on the opposite side, right next to the window the two of you had entered in, black and gold sheets tousled and unmade.

As you turned the light on, the boy then made out that Mingyu, in fact, did not have a bed frame, but just a mattress, with the sheets barely done properly.  The wall on his left was a full black-shutter closet, where he could see the collection of his designer clothing behind the gaps. Posters were plastered on the rest of the walls, most of them being the Tarantino classics —a reclined, raven-bobbed Uma Thurman watching him with bedroom eyes being the most prominent—with certain papers of autographs also stuck next to the posters. There was another poster—American Beauty and the girl surrounded with rose petals—which had him quickly looking away.

“Jesus,” was all he could say, but he supposed he should not have judged. He himself had only his posters in his room—except he did not have the same taste as a middle-aged incel.

“I know.” You looked around at the familiar space, and the memories you had made here. “Imagine having sex in this hellsite.”

Then the image of you having sex with Mingyu on that messy bed came into his mind, and Vernon could have combusted then and there. “I can’t imagine,” he mumbled out, walking to the door, opening to make sure no one was inside. “_____, are you sure no one’s here?”

“Swear on my life, Mr. Filmbro.”

He had to trust you now—or you had very little respect for your life. 

He kept eyeing the DVD set you had in your hand. “Are you still not gonna tell me what we’re doing with that?”

You marched over to the shelf beneath the TV, settling yourself down. “Come here and I’ll show you.” You patted the empty carpet space next to you for added emphasis.

Hesitantly, he obliged, sitting cross-legged next to you. Finger pointing as it scoured the shelf, you carefully brought out one of the films from Mingyu’s selection, all the while sliding out a Disney film from your own set. “Now, tell me,” you began, as you showed him the two movies. “Do you think The Dark Knight and Mulan are a good match?”

First pulling a face at the choice, he then resorted to keeping his twist of features as he turned to you. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“So like, you know Mulan is a woman disguising herself as a soldier in order to defeat the Huns and save her father’s honour, right,” you explained, though you had a small feeling he was not particularly listening. “And Batman is the same thing, except he dresses up as a fucking bat…stupid furry.”

Vernon could not understand how you compared one of the most beautiful, nuanced depictions of a broken, three-dimensional superhero into a furry, but he needed to get to the bottom of your plan, once and for all. “No, I mean, what are you doing? Why the hell are we here?” 

You tutted extra loud. “I’m gonna swap the CDs, dumbass!” You held up the princess movie. “Thought Mingyu could say to me that Disney princess movies sucked, huh?” Then, the classic DVD’s turn to rise. “Let’s see how he’ll like watching a talking dragon in China instead of a talking bat in Fantasyland!” 

The boy could only watch, shock growing with the successful swap of the movies, the secret Mulan CD safely tucked into the The Dark Knight’s DVD case. “It’s Gotham, actually,” he murmured, but he knew you were not listening. “Wait, _____, we really just snuck into your ex’s house to swap a few movies?”

You looked up briefly as you began opening another DVD case. “I mean, if you want to trash the place, that’s fine, but you can’t do anymore than what Mingyu’s dirty ass hasn’t done already.”

Fair point. “I think you’re going insane. Like, clinically.” He kept looking at the door, which was closed shut. “He’ll kill us if he catches us.” 

“Forget about us, you’re barely doing anything!” you exclaimed, tossing some of Mingyu’s movies to him. “Can you actually help me instead of complaining?”

What he should have done was argue with you properly, perhaps even make his escape and leave you to dig your own grave. Sure, he could not drive, but was it not just three pedals, a wheel and a dream? He could have left, never to see you again. 

But then his eyes wandered to the Inception DVD scattered beside you, no doubt collateral damage as you took out the other Nolan films, and saw a Disney Princess movie sitting beside it. Sleeping Beauty, it read out, with the picture of some skinny blonde chick slumbering with a man overlooking her. He thought it a bit strange, almost creepy how this brunette was watching her. 

And then an idea came into his head. 

He closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, clamping his lips together. Please forgive me, Mr. Nolan, for what I’m about to do. 

Hand reaching out to grasp both DVDs, he opened one of his favourites, unclipping the CD. You glanced at him, swapping the movies around. You could not help your stare lingering a little, watching his lips pout, brows furrowed as he fixed the new CD in the Nolan set, as if the task was a serious one. Well, it was a serious task for you, but you expected more complaining. 

When he looked up, he managed to catch a small smile on your lips before he quickly looked away. “And now you’re slacking,” he accused, closing the DVD and setting it atop the newly improved. 

“What’s the plot for Inception?” you asked him, cracking open The Princess and The Frog. 

“I thought you knew, since you laughed at me for saying it was my favourite.” 

“I don’t know the full thing,” you admitted. “The only reason I knew about it was because Mingyu never shut up about it…sorry about that, by the way.” 

Vernon sighed. “It’s fine…if I made fun of your Disney favourites, then bullying me for Nolan isn’t the worst…I think.” He looked at your new suggestion before picking out Alien from Mingyu’s selection. “A thief has to implant an idea into this powerful guy’s mind, and he does this through infiltrating other people’s dreams. However, he has to be asleep while he does it.” 

As you began to laugh, he threw you an irritated look. You shook your head, unable to erase your smile. “That’s a really good match.” 

His eyes widened for a moment, mouth parting. For a moment (and he did not know whether he was going to regret making this assertion), he did not care for Christopher Nolan’s disrespect, after seeing your reaction.

With that, the two of you sat in near silence, the crisp opening and closing of the DVDs, the sliding of the discs being the only sound between the two of you. The Princess of the Frog was successfully matched with the Alien—you, unsurprisingly, had not watched the movie, but Vernon had watched both (one against his will, which you could guess), and thought it the best match. Brave was slotted into The Revenant's case, while Beauty and the Beast went straight into Pan’s Labyrinth’s. 

“Okay so…” the boy held up the Pocahontas CD. “Native American princess falls for the coloniser? How the fuck are you defending this?”

You could only offer a sheepish smile. “The soundtrack is really good?”

“Knowing Disney,” he crowed, cracking open the DVD, “They probably have a song on how terrible the poor Natives are.”

You eyed him, surprised. “How the hell did you guess that?”

First, Vernon made a face, as if he himself could not believe his excellent intuition. Then, he only laughed a little, taking out the Dances with Wolves DVD from the shelf. “I’ve watched enough Disney movies with my sister to know how they work.”

“Oh, so you have watched them?” you mused, watching him exchange the discs. “All that time I thought you only watched what Mingyu watched.”

“No, I watch foreign indie films like an asshole,” he clarified, shutting the cases, and putting Dances with Wolves back on the shelf. “The thing is, I still have my grievances against the super popular films. You know the list you mentioned to me the other day?” You nodded. “Most of these film junkies get off on those movies. I’ll admit I like them, but I’ve seen so much better.” 

You snorted. “Like Inception?” Vernon watched you for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. “What? You asked him, tilting your head. 

He followed your movement—he too, craned his head, his brown curls cascading along his forehead. “Like Inception…and better.”

“Better?” you gasped out, fingers rising to your bottom lip in shock. “Does Mr. Filmbro prefer a movie over Nolan’s grand—no, best release ever?!”

“Ha, ha,” he monotoned, only adding to your amusement. “It’s still his best film! But,” he added, shrugging a little, “I may or may not have lied to you the first time we met. Inception’s not my favourite movie.”

“What?!” you could barely contain your grin. “Oh my God, if I find out it’s a fucking Disney movie, I’m never letting you live it down!”

“Let’s not go that far,” he jeered, earning a harsh nudge of your elbow. “Hey! You should be thanking me for my honesty.”

“How about you extend that honesty and tell me which movie is your favourite?” 

Vernon mocked a ponder. “It’s a hard pass.” 

“Come on!” you pressed, scooting a little closer, almost reaching out as if to nudge him some more. “You’ve already committed a felony with me. Telling me your favourite movie is naturally the next step.” 

“Because that’s obviously how normal human interaction goes,” he countered, sarcasm clear in his voice.

“Tell me.” 

“No.”

“Tell me!” 

“Hmm…no!” he repeated, assembling the last of the DVDs. “Maybe if we raid Mingyu’s house next time.”

“Oh?” Leaning closer, you paused his hands on the movie sets. “Do you want there to be a next time?”

It was then Vernon realised the implications of your question, a consequence of his own suggestion. It was almost comical, how his eyes widened like full moons, and he immediately shook his head. “Now you know that’s not what I meant.” 

“Then what did you mean?” you asked him, and the way he exposed a slight stutter at your question had you laughing. “Would you want to see me again?”

What Vernon wanted to tell you was no, no, no, because another second with you would end with all the blood in his system rushing to his head, and other places. Damn everything and everyone, he would want to see you again—no. No. He wouldn’t. He would not. 

“You haven’t answered the question,” you said, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

The boy was about to stutter out an answer when the two of you heard a door slam downstairs. 

You whirled back, eyes instantly darting to the door. They then focused back on you, widened very much like his not long ago. “_____,” Vernon muttered. 

“Mr. Filmbro…”

The furrow of his brow appeared for a split-second before it disappeared at the shuffling underneath. “What the fuck do we do?” he gulped out, looking around to find anywhere to escape from. This was it—he thought he was getting away with trespassing just because you had convinced him to, but that fuckass ex-boyfriend was going to catch them in his bedroom, two inches away from kissing you, and—

“Wait,” you then said, catching his wrist in your hand. He barely had time to react to it before you shot up from your seated position, hauling the boy along with you. He stumbled, but then you nearly made him fall flat on his face as you ran to the shutter closets, sliding them straight open. The inside was a mess of branded clothing and boxes of sports equipment, but there was one opening with just enough for two people in trouble to hide. 

You first went in, and, with a harsh tug, pulled him in with you. He crashed into you, but you had enough control to slide the shutter door shut. There was so much commotion that when you both finally stilled, breathing harshly as you heard Mingyu enter the room, Vernon blinked back to see your face about two inches away from him. 

He was going to yelp—strong on going to, because you sensed his incoming shock, and smacked your hand against his mouth. His eyebrows could have touched the top of his forehead, but what you noticed the most was the warmth of his skin, burning the longer your touch lingered on his lips. 

The smile you offered him as you put a finger to your lips had him almost passing out. 

“Yeah, man, come round whenever,” was all Vernon could hear, still not comprehending Mingyu’s speech due to your hand. “No, Minseo’s not here, what the fuck? Why do you wanna know where my sister is?” 

Slowly, ever so carefully as not to alert him, you pulled down on one of the blinds of the shutter, spying the movie which he was about to see. Vernon should have been following your movements, but he could only sense you, inching closer and closer to him till you were pressed against him. Of course, you were only trying to better your vision of your ex-boyfriend, but the boy beside you could not focus. The hand on his mouth—God—he needed, so badly, to be put down. Your fingers were soft, and although his lips could not help brushing against your palm, everything in him resisted the urge to react.

Quickly glancing at your accomplice in glee, you dropped your hand from his mouth, silently urging him to watch. He could have rebelled against your pulling away, but he instead obliged. Bringing his face next to yours, he glanced at you one last time before peering at the vision that welcomed. 

There he was, the golden boy, raking his hair as he strolled into the middle of the room, observing the TV before him, and the DVD player sitting at the bottom. He kept humming, as if agreeing with whoever was on the phone. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll go to that party later…no, I’m not bringing _____! You know about that already!” 

The boy in hiding quickly snuck a peek at you, who soured a little at the mention. “Hmm? Yeah, whatever. What? Nah, I’m just gonna watch a chill movie before leaving.” Mingyu scanned the films on his shelf. Walking over, he leaned down, sliding out The Shape of Water from his collection, cradling his phone between his shoulder blade and his craned head as he opened the DVD. 

Vernon could not help pulling a face at Mingyu’s choice of a ‘chill movie’ being a film about a mute woman wanting to fuck a water creature. You probably did not understand the reference, but by the growing anticipation on your face, you only cared about the scene you two had created, and was about to unfold just then. 

Mingyu slid the CD into the player, pressing play as he made his way to his frameless bed, settling down in the sheets. “Yeah…no, no, it’s just starting.”

The two of you could hear clearly the opening credits, which began with the most obnoxious opening music of Disney’s intro. Vernon was taken aback by how Mingyu did not realise it from that very moment, but considering he was too busy chatting pure shit on the phone, laughing to himself, the boy assumed he was simply waiting for the action to occur.

“Any minute now, Mr. Filmbro,” you whispered, oh-so-fucking close to him. He did not respond, merely a nod.

Craning his head to see through the shutters, he noticed the animation come to life, the ship within dangerous waters sailing with uncertainty. He snuck a quick glance at Mingyu’s face, which started garnering a little confusion. 

“Are these extra credit scenes? I don’t remember any of this,” he heard the OG filmbro complain. 

You could not help the snort that escaped you. Vernon glared at you, but with little effect. “What?” you whispered. “I don’t remember him being this thick.” 

“What the fuck is this cartoon…” the two of you heard Mingyu pipe up. Finally, the buffoon is realising this is not the two-time Oscar winning animation, but the four-time Oscar winning CGI. “This wasn’t in the director’s cut.”

You still could not believe how your ex-boyfriend was taking this long for the realisation to hit. Even when Eric jumped up on the screen, holding onto the ship’s ropes, the watcher only regarded the character intently, as if he was somehow part of the stranger film. 

Only when, fifteen minutes in, Atlantis is finally introduced that something clicked in his brain. Mingyu tilted his head, thinking out loud. “What the fuck…?”

Getting up from where he sat, he ended the call, informing whoever was on the other side that he would meet later. He took out the CD from the player, examining its exterior. “Can’t see shit on this CD…” He was not wrong—you were smart, choosing the discs which did not have any images, confusing the boy all the more. “Maybe I put in the wrong one…”

He shrugged it off, taking out The Dark Knight instead, another easy, breezy movie to watch when The Shape of Water did not pull through. Now Nolan was a hard one to criticise—Vernon himself was a huge fan, but seeing Mingyu try to watch it irked him. A good thing, then, was it not, that he was bound for a second surprise?

Repeating the routine, he slid the secret CD, settling back into his frameless bed. “Great minds, huh?” you whispered to him, and Vernon only rolled his eyes, not enjoying the dig against him in the slightest. 

“You dated him,” he griped, watching the movie start up.

“Waste of good looks,” you whispered, your partner-in-crime nodding in agreement. The movie beginning had you both falling silent as a bird of prey hits on one of the soldier’s heads. The scene is set in the cold mountains of China, but the sole audience does not catch it immediately. 

“So fucking weird…” Mingyu trailed off again, leaning forwards. “This isn’t the robbery scene…”

Of course it was not—the idiot would not witness one of the best film openings in Vernon’s humble opinion. He would not feast his eyes to the workings of Joker’s bank robbery, nor the cold one-liners from the incapacitated bank manager. 

No, what he was served was the Huns crossing the Northern border, which, as the boy finally began to clock after a good ten minutes, was not what he was expecting.

“What the…” once again, he heaved himself up, walking over to the player. “Now I know something’s wrong…”

Both you and Vernon stretched further close, as much as the closet would allow, to peek at Mingyu’s frustration as he brought the CD out once more, examining the back and front. He then took out some more of his favourites, opening their cases and taking out the CDs, observing them closely. He was suspicious now. How could he not be, when he was expecting incel excellence, but was greeted with the same shit his younger sister—his crazy ex-girlfriend, even—would usually watch.

He blinked back. 

His deathly stillness had the two trespassers pausing. You two looked at each other, faces losing any humour, perhaps recognising that he had clocked on. You watched the scene as Mingyu rapidly added one CD after another, expecting one movie only to have a Disney-fied replacement, completely botching his plans. Every movie that received such Disneyfication further enraged him, the grit in his teeth heard, the tick in his jaw visible. 

The final straw was when the Godfather was slotted in, his all-time, unmatched favourite. There was darkness for the first few minutes, and he sighed too quickly in relief, about to lay back on his mattress. 

Then, a curly-haired girl, a toddler at best, in huge green glasses becomes visible, being told to open her eyes. 

“Is this where magic comes from?”

“What the fuck?!”

And as a conversation between the little girl and her elderly grandmother blossomed, there was a specific dialogue which sent the young boy over the edge.

“This candle became a magical flame that would never grow out…and it blessed us with a refuge in which to live…a place of wonder…An Encanto.”

You nearly burst out laughing. 

Mingyu, on the other hand, could have seen red. 

“Who fucked with my CDs?!” he demanded to no one in particular, though in his mind he knew there was a culprit. “My fucking CDs, man!” 

“Did you do the Godfather swap?” you whispered, barely able to contain yourself.

“Two special families with one heir that doesn’t feel connected to their lifestyle.” Vernon grinned at you, impressed with himself. “It was too easy.”

“Where did you even find the Encanto DVD? It wasn’t in our set.” 

“I found it in his little filmbro shelf.” He ticked his head towards the boy in physical agony. “My guess is that his sister is a Disney fan and left it in his mancave.”

“Oh my God,” you got out, watching the melodramatic scene of your dear ex show rage akin to a teenage boy losing Call of Duty online. 

“That fucking bitch,” he guttered, over and over again as he threw the Encanto CD across the room. Those words came out, and the boy behind the shutters stiffened. Okay—there is rage, and then there is straight up promise of violence. Vernon may not be much of a knight, but if they were caught, he knew he would have to protect you.

He hoped to everything that existed that it would not have to come to that—Vernon would rather fake having a heart attack and have you drag his body out of the Kim Manor. 

It seemed as that might have been a real possibility, until the boy called out a threat to a name they were not expecting.

“Minseo, I’m gonna kill you!” Mingyu roared as he stormed out of the room, undoubtedly on his way to destroy her room, even take his anger out on her Jellycat collection.

As you heard his frenzy disappear down the halls, the trespassers took this as the opportunity to escape the closet, Vernon already creating a little distance in case you come too close and cause his passing out.

“We need to get out now,” he declared as you crept out of the wardrobe, his head whipping to the door which Mingyu left from. 

You nodded, not quite looking at him as you dashed straight for the final DVD. “Oh, Jesus,” He groaned, watching you scramble for the movie, trying horrifically to hide it within your clothes. “You do realise he can come in any second!” 

“Okay, okay,” you said, hurrying over to the window. “Wait, you can go first.”

Vernon raised a brow, following after you. “How come you don’t want to go first?”

You only ushered him further, grinning. “You can peek at my ass again.”

“My eyes will be closed,” he sniped, already carrying it out, trying his absolute best not to imagine your ass in his mind—maybe stakeouts for goofy purposes were not for the weak-willed. “You know, just for that alone, you’re going down first.” 

“Whatever suits you, Mr. Filmbro,” you almost chanted, aggravating him all the more as you stepped out of the window, beginning the trek down. 

He looked down as you descended with one film in hand, still stealing glances at the only door in the room, terrified that the boy would burst through the door, see you both and bring about his downfall. Subconsciously, his fingers hovered just before his mouth, biting the skin around his nails. He knew he should have run himself over with an oncoming vehicle. A messy plan, but still fool-proof. 

“Stop panicking and come down here!” your voice snapped him out of his anxious frenzy. “I know you’re biting your nails off right now!”

The boy instantly repelled his hand, instead furrowing his brow. A little irritating—scary, as well, really—how predictable he was in your eyes. How quickly you had figured him out.

“Alright,” he said, absent-mindedly as he reached for the windowsill. He peaked down again, not realising how far down the descent truly was. Rationally, he knew it was not the worst drop he’d seen on the first floor, but the nerves had started affecting his mind. Now, this entire time he was watching you take one step, two steps down, but he did not have the strength to follow you. 

Still, he knew it was now or never.

Vernon was going to be at your heels (or, more anatomically correct, at your head) when he heard a shuffle from behind him.

He whipped his head around, anticipating the worst.

The worst arrived in all his golden-skinned, empty-headed glory. Holding one of his DVDs, Kim Mingyu stood at the doorway, his eyes widening with every second they beheld the intruder, one leg out of the house, the other a moment away from heaving him up.

Oh. Jesus. Christ.

“The nerd from film theory?”

Vernon’s face dropped. 

The Nerd from Film Theory? The Nerd from fucking Film Theory? 

It was then and there, in that exact moment of time, that the filmbro in question did not give a single care for what the popular boy thought of him. Vernon knew everything about this boy (whether he wanted to or not); his every class, his every terrible friend, even his film preferences, thanks to yours truly. Yet Mingyu did not even know his name—did not even bother to remember.

It was because of that that he managed to garner some essence of his bravado, finally settling both feet on the ladder steps. 

He also decided to add in some corrections to Mingyu’s knowledge. 

“Jo March did not need any man after Laurie…in fact, she did not need any male support, asshole.”

For added effect, he raised his middle finger, as if the burn was sick enough to hurt. 

Mingyu’s devastating response was a confused tilt of his head, clearly not understanding his reference. 

It was enough time for Vernon to hurry his descent down, catching the former more off guard. 

“What the fuck—” was all the boy heard before he quickly tried to travel downwards, feet nearly slipping on the steps by his sheer carelessness. Mingyu’s head popped out from the window, and saw the great ladder leaning against the sill, shocked gaze lowering to where Vernon was descending to.

When his eyes found yours, he could have choked on his gulp. Even more so when you smirked at him.

“_____?”

As Vernon finally dropped off the ladder, dusting himself off, he watched the two of you, staring each other down. When he gauged Mingyu’s fear of you, there was a small part of him that was filled with admiration.

Mingyu’s demand sounded more like a whimper. “What are you doing here?”

You only curled your lips further upwards, grinning like a wild animal. It chilled your ex-boyfriend to the bone when you held the Tangled CD up for him to see, with your other hand raising your middle finger. 

“This is for calling me a stupid bitch.”

His mouth dropped open. That gave you just enough time to grab onto Vernon’s hand, enveloping your fingers around his wrist. 

And run for your life.

Vernon let out a yelp as he was yanked forward by your hold, barely hearing Mingyu’s loud curses and retreating back into the house, no doubt to follow after you two—the trespasser could only guess, much too occupied by your hand, a guiding beacon of mischief, never absent in his life as you ran and ran and ran out of the garden, out of the sleek maze which you two first entered, catching sight of the open garden gate.

The boy heard distant footsteps coming from the house, and as you both saw your car parked beyond the greater gates, you fished out your keys, finally letting go of his hand to dash over to the driver’s side, jamming the key in the lock. Vernon let out a startled noise as the car unlocked, wasting no time to jump inside, heart beating loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear. Mingyu appeared at the main doorstep at the exact same time, even more shocked to realise he had not noticed his ex-girlfriend’s car casually parked before him. 

Just as you climbed inside, swivelling the keys into ignition, Mingyu began to run after the car, a mere ten seconds between him and catching you two.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, _____, just start it already!” the nervous boy in shotgun begged, his head swivelling back at every chance, heart lurching at every metre closer the filmnemesis crept.

The car revved to life at your signal.

It was time to get the fuck out of here. 

“GO, GO, GO!” Vernon screamed at the top of his voice, fisting the handle at the roof of the car as you slammed on the accelerator, racing out of the driveway with Mingyu’s bellowing following after you. Of course, since he was a mere, enraged college student, and you both were in a (slight) state-of-the-art vehicle, you zoomed out of the neighbourhood, his curses fading with every turn further out, you managing to escape. 

Vernon, because he had never done such a thing before, was still screaming to leave for the next ten minutes until you had had enough, swerving to the side of the road, not far from his DVD store. You almost crashed into the nearby park, frightening a few birds that expected peace within the sidewalk trees, only to be disturbed by a troublesome ex and a film-obsessed loser. 

You gushed out an exhale, fingers gripping tightly to the wheel, almost as stunned as the boy beside you, who seemed to take in the town’s worth of air in his little body. But then, you realised the gravity of the situation, the sole movie at the back which could not be swapped, and the valiant escape from something you never thought you would come out of alive.

Just then, you burst into laughter. 

The boy whirled his head to you, who could not stop the tumbles of laughter that escaped your mouth, hanging on to the car wheel as you cackled and cackled like the Wicked Witch of the West. Well, that was what you thought you sounded at that time, but you, as always, did not care.

Only that you were wrong—at least in Vernon’s eyes. You were wrong, because if you were laughing like some Disney villain, then he would have been more pissed off—enraged even. He was instead in awe, shocked at the raw guffawing that spluttered out of you without shame. Had the two of you not evaded a great danger? Nearly been arrested for your legally ambiguous behaviour? 

For the first time in his life, he was not embroiled with dread. 

There was no anxiety in his body, no essence of panic at the consequences of your actions. No, he could only stare at you and your mirth, and find himself raising his brows, the beginnings of a scoffed laugh creeping from his lips. 

The more he looked at you, the more his own laughter joined yours. 

And then you were both laughing, giggling beyond control at the narrow escape, and the near crash against some tree. Vernon knew how stupid this whole situation was, but strangely, he did not seem to care—not when you did not see it like that. A very odd prospect. 

After a few minutes, when it finally seemed as if you would settle down, you sighed, leaning back into the driver’s seat. “We should do that again.”

Despite the amusement lingering, he immediately shut the idea down. “Not a chance.”

You admired the ancient lining of the tree’s bark in front of the car. “The way you were laughing with me just now, you’d think you want to commit crimes from now on.” 

A dramatic roll of eyes. “I’m not going to jail. They don’t even have a TV there.”

“You and your fuck ass movie collection…”

That brought out another chuckle from the boy—you smiled at the notion. He then looked at the rearview mirror, where the last movie was splayed, all alone and away from the others. “Kind of a shame we missed out on one last movie.”

“Right?” You followed his line of sight. “Fuck, Tangled of all movies?”

“Wait, isn’t that the one with Rapunzel?” 

You let out an impressed hum. “A week of seeing my face, and you’re already catching on!” A mischievous raise of brows. “Another month with me and you can sing all the tracks from the film.”

“You really shouldn’t have this much faith in me, _____,” he said, shaking his head. “Plus, this might be the one movie I didn’t watch with Sofe.” He saw you perk up at the new name. “My sister. She’s the one who forced me to watch all those Disney films years ago.”

“I like her already,” you mused, a finger on your chin. You paused for a bit, looking down at your shoes, settled lightly upon the pedals. Then, you started the engine once more.  “So…Tangled is the only one you haven’t watched, huh.” 

A glance at you. “Yep.” 

You looked back, hoping to reverse away from the tree. “Right…” You checked your watch, the car slowly moving out of the pavement. “Interesting…super duper interesting.”

It was something insane, fantastical the way Vernon’s nerves seemed to hum at the implications. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“What? I just said that it’s interesting you’ve never watched Tangled…”

The boy scoffed, crossing his arms. “This is where you’re gonna force me to watch the stupid movie.” 

But then he caught the look of surprise on your face, as if you had been caught. “Oh, Jesus, you’re not gonna let me out the car, are you?”

“No, no!” you countered at once, raising your hands. “Well, yes as in I was hoping you would watch the movie with me, and no, I won’t force you.” You sighed a little, fingers back on the wheel. “You’ve already done so much today. If you want to go home, I’ll drive you straight there.”

He watched your expression, the prepared acceptance, the anticipation—the sliver of hope, hiding itself amongst the flurry of other emotions. In all honesty, he was tired; the entirety of this evening had exhausted his social battery (which he doubted he had to begin with) and he still had some sound image work left back at the college studio. If it was any other person asking, he would have happily bunked them off—pretended that he had suddenly developed a terminal illness in the span of minutes, and begged them to drive him back home to ‘live out the rest of his days’.

You, on the other hand, were a problem. He could not let you down—not anymore. Not after today.

When he let out a soft sigh, you were anticipating the worst. Then, he revealed the answer. 

“Let’s watch a fucking Disney Princess movie.”

VERNON DID NOT WANT TO WATCH A FUCKING DISNEY PRINCESS MOVIE. 

The moment you opened the door to your house—a shabby, student house about twenty minutes from campus—stepping inside, he realised there was no way back, and that he had to humour your wish, or else lose respect in your eyes. 

As you brought him down the small hallway, leading into the little living room, you quickly grabbed the takeout boxes of your flatmates, murmuring hurried apologies as you left the room. The boy looked around, the slight cracks of the blue walls, the 32” TV sitting at the opposite end of the fraying couches. Posters of Bridget Jones, Notting Hill, and other Hugh Grant movies were plastered on one end of the wall, while Vernon nearly had a jumpscare when he caught a life-size cardboard cutout of some Disney hero—this one unrecognisable. 

“That’s the love of my life you’re staring at,” came the voice behind him, and he whirled to see you, a huge bowl of popcorn cradled in your hands. “Why’re you standing in the middle like an idiot? Sit, sit!” Vernon obliged, making to settle on the sofas when you tutted. “Are you mental? No, sit on the bean bags near the TV!” 

How stupid of me to assume I could sit on furniture designed for sitting, he meant to crow, but the moment he settled on the bean bags, he instantly preferred their malleable comfort. When he let out a relaxed sigh, you huffed out a laugh, propping the bowl before him. “See?” 

“I was gonna say…” Vernon trailed off, watching you press a few buttons on the DVD player. “Where’s the CD?”

“Already in,” you said, picking up the remote as you settled in the beanbag next to him, scooting closer. Catching a look at his face, you bellowed, “Yes, Mr. Filmbro, I watched it recently!”

“How recently are we saying?”

“...yesterday evening.” 

“And this is the masterpiece you wanna show me,” Vernon murmured, sneaking a look back at the cardboard cutout. “Don’t tell me he’s the floozy that’s leading the film.” 

You turned the TV on. “Fine. I won’t tell you.”

He then looked at you. “Oh, Jesus.”

“Trust me!” you then reasoned, putting a hand on the boy’s knee—the mere touch had his brain rewiring, nerves all ceasing to work on the one point where your touch remained. You really had to stop—first your hand was on his mouth in that damned (blessed) closet, and now this soft reminder. He tried his best not to fix his eyes on your lingering fingers as you carried on, “This film is a modern classic. I promise.” 

Well shit, he thought. When you looked at him like that, you could have convinced him that Quentin Tarantino was a better foot fetishiser than a filmmaker. 

“Okay,” he said, almost believing in your words. 

With that, the landing page for the movie turned on, and there were the main characters; he assumed the chick with the long, blonde hair was Rapunzel, and the man behind her—which, Vernon thought, did not deserve to be celebrated as a life-sized cardboard cutout—was the love interest. Whatever. 

“Let’s just get this over with,” he mumbled as you pressed the fated Play, anticipating the worst. 

And as the two of you fell silent, Vernon still holding out on the popcorn, watching suspiciously at the screen, the voice of a man flooded the TV speaker.

“This…this is the story of how I died.” 

The boy immediately reacted, face dropping. “The fuck?” he got out, catching the WANTED! Poster of the very man he bad-mouthed not two minutes ago. 

“But don’t worry, this is actually a fun story…and the truth is…it isn’t even mine.” 

“Wait, this dude is already dead?” he asked.

“Just watch the movie!” you answered impatiently, making the boy sigh and lean back into the bean bag.

“This is the story of a girl named Rapunzel. And it starts…with the sun.”

You wanted to keep your eyes rooted to the screen, watch the unfurling of Mother Gothel’s backstory, but that was precisely when the incessant complaining began. 

“Now why are we already getting context of some random witch’s actions? Less telling, more showing, man!” Vernon kept his arms crossed, shaking his head at the TV. “Oh, great, poor little king and queen in their big ass castle!” 

“Having basic sympathy will take you great places, my guy,” you merely said, scoffing down the popcorn in the bowl. “Their kid just got stolen by some crazy bitch.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, piping down once more when the flashbacks ceased, and the present day was introduced into the story. On the screen, a small, green chameleon entered, camouflaging himself behind a pot of flowers. He guessed that the chick with the long hair—Rapunzel—would be finding him, and, lo and behold, he was right. In all fairness, though, it did not take a film degree to work that out.

He also did not need a film degree to guess that a musical number was about to be introduced, not even ten minutes into the movie. That he worked out all by himself, when the guitar riffs sounded. Beside him, you instantly brightened, smile widening as TANGLED morphed on the screen, the song about to begin. 

It was around that point when, as he spared you a glance, he realised you were about to sing along.

“Oh, Jesus—”

If his life was a romantic film, this would have been the perfect setup; the girl that made his heart flutter was seated dangerously close to him, bean bags already touching with shoulders barely following, watching the cheesiest animated movie. He could have seen the shot now, with his gaze turning rose-y as you would open your mouth and sing along to the song. Of course, you would sing beautifully, better than the original singer, and he would sit there, absolutely mesmerised. 

Oh, he was stunned alright. 

“SEVEN AM THE USUAL MORNING, LINE UP—!”

The boy flinched at the sheer volume of your chant—screech would be the better word for it, for he guessed singing was not one of your natural talents. 

You could not see his judgement at all, eyes closed and clutching your fists to your chest, continuing the song. “START ON THE FLOOR AND SWEEP TILL THE FLOOR’S ALL CLEEEEEANNNN—!”

A scoff escaped him, not quite believing the scene before him. He was shocked to silence, the movie’s music now in his background, the forefront being your attempt to outsing the princess. Either no one had told you how horrendous your singing was, or you simply did not care for the opinions of others. A part of him hoped that it was the latter—for you to be so comfortable in singing away, despite what others thought, made his judgement disappear. 

Shamelessly you sang the entire number, up to the point where the scene cuts and the supposedly hot love interest—whose name was Flynn Rider, apparently, which he should have known if he just read the poster at the start of the movie like a normal viewer—was now trying to steal the crown jewels. 

Vernon was too busy thinking about how stupid ‘Flynn Rider’ was as a name to realise that another song had just started. Immediately you changed your tune, your tone lowering, almost sultry. 

This time, you looked at him when you started singing. 

“Look at you, as fragile as a flower…”

“Ayo?” A glance at the TV screen, where Mother Gothel was now singing. “Another song?”

But you did not answer his question, only singing further as you reached your hand out to him. “Still a little sapling, just a sprout!” You continued, and, at that, your hand patted his mess of curls atop his head, mirroring Mother Gothel’s actions. 

Blinking back repeatedly, he could not even shrug it off, stunned once again by how you were casually able to touch him and not feel anything—while his entire system shuts down like a lagging desktop when it tries to run the Sims. 

The overdramatic flair was present in your singing, changed from the sweetness of the previous song. It was crazy how you remembered each word, not slipping at any chorus—you were a true fan, a committed admirer of the film. Even he could not comprehend knowing every single line of his favourites. 

It was admirable indeed—to love a film as you did this one.

It was what made Vernon smile a little, turning away from your melodrama and focusing on the screen, where Mother Gothel now threatened to never be asked to leave the tower. Again.

This time, he would give the movie a chance. Thank God he decided to wake up.

The movie picked up the pace instantly—he had not expected Flynn to meet—and be whacked out by Rapunzel’s frying pan—so quickly, and had reflected her dejection when the mother screamed at her. He could tell where this was going, especially with the thief now in the closet, but he found himself grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl without turning away from the screen.

By the time the third song of the movie came around, he was taken aback that it arrived further in, surrounded by the thugs of the Snuggly Duckling. Without realising, he turned to you, anticipating you breaking out into a song, but you were merely watching the movie, bobbing your head along to the beat.

Noticing his stare, you glanced at him. “Expecting a show?”

“Since you were giving them out without request, I figured this time would be like any other.”

You snorted, grabbing the popcorn. “I’m saving my heavenly voice for the best song, actually.”

Vernon mocked a gasp. “So you’re telling me Mother Knows Best isn’t the best feature?”

“Don’t chat shit, Mr. Filmbro, because Mother Knows Best is one of the top five.”

“I look forward to seeing which song you’re holding out for,” he only said, turning back to the movie again. The popcorn ran out about this time, and you shot up from your bean bag, promising more as you exited the room, leaving him to continue. 

By the time you returned, the protagonists were escaping, chaos ensuing all around them with the guards, his partners and that eccentric white horse chasing them. Ending up in the cave, they recognise a lack of way out, and although Vernon was aware that the movie ends on the happiest note, a small part of him filled with dread. 

That dread disappeared instantly when Flynn confessed his little secret.

“Eugene Fitzherbert?!” The boy demanded.

You chuckled at his disdain. “Yeah, Flynn Rider was hotter. Eugene Fitzherbert ages him about forty years.”

“Flynn Rider was silly, but Eugene is straight up diabolical.” 

“He is still fuckable regardless!” you shushed him, raising your pointer at him. “You wish you had his sex appeal.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, let me just change my name to Bartholomew Whiteman real quick.”

“Hey!” you whacked him on the arm, this time laughing heartily at his quip. “Let my man live!”

He decided to spare your fictional man any more bullying, taking in the town atmosphere where the two adventurers and Maximus had now ended up. “Ooooo, the castle dances are my favourite scenes!” you gushed, scooping popcorn in one hand and eating with the other. “Wait, look, look at the braid!”

“Jeez, I’m looking!” he insisted, watching the girls braid Rapunzel’s hair. Flynn—which Vernon is continuing to identify him as, because Eugene was too much for him—stared at her longingly at the results. Vernon used the popcorn as an excuse to gaze at you matching Flynn’s longing at the screen. Your head rested on your knees, locking your hands in front of them, forming a lazy smile. This smile remained throughout Rapunzel and Eugene’s activities, even to the point when the couple were settled in a boat, waiting for the lights. 

“It’s happening,” you declared, the smile widening as you released your legs from your hands. “Oh my God, it’s fucking happening!”

Raising the volume, the boy watched the screen, where thousands of lanterns were sparking alight at the king and queen’s signal. The lanterns’ lights broke across the borders of the town, melting into the sea, the docked ships. Rapunzel had not noticed though, too busy dropping flower heads upon the water’s surface, Flynn helpfully holding out the bunch. 

As the princess dropped another upon the waterbed, she finally noticed the beginning.

It was then Vernon heard your favourite Disney song.

“All those days, watching from the window…All those years, outside looking in…” 

You followed this time, not as loud as the other songs, quiet and soft, as if letting the blonde shine in her song. “All that time, never even knowing, just how blind I’ve been…”” 

You exhibited the same excitement as Rapunzel, who, noticing the lanterns, threw off Flynn’s balance, hanging onto the curling bow of the boat.

The boy, however, was not really focused on the screen.

Because the music that surrounded the two crept into his ears, playing the strings of his senses; because the lights were off save for the TV, shining its dimmed lighting upon your face, making you glow with the dark purples, blues, golds of the Tangled scenery. He lost all interest in everything because you were looking something out of a daydream, watching the events of the movie as if they were scenes of salvation. The two of you were definitely not on any kind of boat, merely sitting on bean bags. Despite all of that, he began to float—swaying from where he sat, as if he was truly settled on water. 

“Now I’m here—” You put your hand to your chest— “Blinking in the starlight…now I’m here, suddenly I see…”

You kept singing the lyrics, voice more subdued than your last outbursts, and Vernon could only watch you, the pure love of this song radiating off your very pores. Vernon’s anticipation rose with every octave of the singer’s voice rising, eyes never leaving your face, the parted mouth. 

“Standing here, it’s oh! so clear…!”

As the viewers themselves were about to observe the thousands of lanterns Rapunzel witnessed, Vernon himself waiting, he made the mistake of averting his gaze from you, if only to see the grand reveal.

It was what made you unconsciously envelop your fingers with his, clasping his hand with yours.

He whipped his head to yours, eyes widening to the point of spilling. 

You were already looking at him. 

When you sang the next lyrics, Vernon could have melted molten.

“I’m where I’m meant to be!” 

And as the lanterns surrounded the protagonists, lighting up the entirety of the night, you sang the chorus to the boy in your little college flat, no one to witness it but two of you.

“And at last I see the light! And it’s like the fog has lifted!” 

Your voice was hoarse now, all the screech-singing catching up to you. Vernon, in another lifetime, would have instantly resisted, ran for the hills if it was literally anyone else in the room but you.

“And at last I see the light! And it’s like the sky…is new…” 

But it was you—you holding his hand tightly, you looking at him with the light of the lanterns in your eyes, you opening up to him in your little haven, away from anyone else. Granted, you could have offered this performance to anyone, but he liked to think—shit, he was truly hoping—that you would not have done this for anyone else. 

You would have only sang your favourite song to him. 

“And it’s warm, and real, and bright! And the world has somehow…shifted…”

Vernon watched you halt a moment, waiting for the next verse, your hand tightening in his. 

“All at once…everything looks different…”

You were right—the world had shifted underneath him, stilled under the dimmed lighting of this dingy living room. The two of you now faced each other, music still tuning from the TV, but the characters long forgotten, as if they never existed. Yes, you were right in that everything looked different, seemed different, as if he was seeing you for the very first time. 

“Now that I…see you.”

Shit. You were rather beautiful before him.

You paused then, watching his reaction. You tilted your head, thoroughly amused by the sheer awe that radiated from his face, but then you noticed his chest rise and fall, more unevenly the longer you observed him. 

The next detail you caught was how his eyes darted down—down to your lips.

It was the lips, which were watched so intently, that parted.

You attempted at a little humour. “Out of all my talents, I guess singing isn’t one of them.”

But Vernon did not respond with words. Sure, he would have agreed with you, but singing was irrelevant now. Out of all these infinite talents you possessed—your natural charm, your ease in making him laugh, your trespassing and eventual escaping of such crimes—Vernon could not have given less of a shit about singing. Not when you were before him, bathed in an unnatural, extraordinary light, soft music playing in the background. Almost as if he had adorned the rose-tinted glasses, courtesy of the universe.

In any romantic comedy, he would have kissed her.

The boy was not known to be courageous—anything but brave. Real Life, Not Clickbait Vernon would have left by now. The Real Vernon should have pussied out. 

You, however, looked a little too beautiful to be treated with cowardice. 

“Are you going to kiss me, Mr. Filmbro, or are you gonna make me wait till the end of the movie?”

He parted his mouth for a split second, gob-smacked at your question. The twinkle in your gaze, though, had him spluttering out a harsh chuckle, craning his head down at the sheer absurdity of it all. But then he looked up, smiling, not quite believing what he was about to do.

“I should make you wait.”

That was what he said. What Vernon instead did was finally grow the two balls that were supposed to be hidden in his pants, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. 

Now the boy always wondered whether the movies were right—when mouths would touch, move against each other, whether a fire would ignite between souls, whether one really felt as if they were not of this world.

It seemed like Hallmark-level bullshit to him, but the moment his lips touched yours, he began to float out of this room. A soft hum reverated from you, approval at his actions, and he could have burst as he felt you smile against him. 

Maybe Disney was right. God, he really did not want to be in such accord with that stupid corporation, but they were onto something with the fireworks, the orchestral singing when couples kiss. He himself felt a choir-like chant all around him as he brought his hand to your face, angling it slightly so he could gain better access, boost your pleasure as he delved slightly deeper.

He was unstoppable. He was alive and ecstatic and delirious, opening his mouth wider, his other hand now finding your waist, snuffing out any distance between you two. It was not like he was a pro in these situations—he had only ever had one serious girlfriend, and that was at an age where a boy could get away with merely ‘french-kissing’ (as the kids back then would have gloated) your significant other. Again, he may have fooled around a little in college, too, but never had he experienced this haze of lust, this newfound desire. 

This desire enhanced further when you slipped your tongue from the seams, sliding it along his as an invitation for more, and he could have honestly thanked that heinous hag Walt Disney for making movies you adored so much, to the point of showing him and landing him in this situation. Of course he indulged you, opening his mouth enough to let you inside. The sensation of your tongue slipping past his lips had a soft noise releasing from his throat. 

Tangled was all but forgotten, the two of you too occupied being entangled with each other. You pulled him even closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers brushing against the ends of his hair. The soft touches had every strand of his locks standing on edge, a wave of delight washing over him. 

You were sagged into the bean bag, Vernon’s weight upon you sinking you further, but you did not mind it—relished it, his scent engulfing you, the sighs and soft murmurs of his every exhale haunting your eardrums. Who would have thought that a boy who could recite every Joker quote from The Dark Knight—Virgin Supremism you termed the talent—had this kind of game hidden underneath? How was he able to ignite such powerful emotions from you?

How was Vernon ‘Filmbro’ Chwe able to make you feel so good you did not realise Tangled finishing right before you?

The two of you could have spent all night intertwined in each other, perhaps would have gone past the boundaries of mere making out. However, between the haze of his soft whispers to you, your own mist swimming in your head, you heard the starting music of the DVD reverting to the home page, and like instinct you opened your eyes, finding that the movie had ended.

You must have paused, because Vernon immediately stopped, concern staining his pretty features. His knitted brow, eyes laced with nervousness, shamed you for ever stopping. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

“Oh, no, no!” You felt like a fool for the answer you attempted to give him. “It’s just, um…”

He followed your line of sight, turning around. Once he realised, he looked back at you, you surprised to find a little shock replacing his concern. “We were going for that long?”

Your smirk had his stomach knotting. “This is what happens when you make out with someone you like, Mr. Filmbro.” 

He could not respond, looking away as his flushed face managed to redden some more. You only laughed at him, playing with the hem of his shirt, his arms still steady as they caged you. “You are so lucky, you know.”

He quirked a brow. “And why is that?” 

“I would never miss the second half of Tangled for a man.”

It was so incredibly stupid, how he felt a semblance of pride at the notion.“Happy to know I’m an exception.”

“You do know I’m gonna make you watch it again so you can say you’ve watched it.”

Vernon tilted his head to the side, lost in thought. You watched him, anticipating. “This is the part where you say you’d rather Mingyu jump you than rewatch Tangled.” 

“Well yes, but…” He glanced over his shoulder, where your shelf of DVDs were stacked, a particular movie which had caught his eye previously now standing out all the more. “I, uh…” 

He looked back at you, and the self-conscious glint in his gaze had you watching his every movement. “I was hoping to show you my favourite movie instead.”

You were ready to make a comment on how you prided on avoiding Nolan films like the plague, but then you remembered the conversation at Mingyu’s house. Your eyebrows could have touched your hairline. “You said I could never know.”

“Well…” a small smile escaped him, slowly pulling himself away. “If I am to be your exception, _____, then I suppose you can be mine.”

Gaping at him, you could only keep silent as he, with great effort on his part, heaved off you, making his way to the shelf. He was lucky, you thought—had he been a moment slower, that comment alone would have had you kissing him again. 

What quickly caught your attention was him sliding his pointer finger through your collection, a series of your favourites. The anticipation was rising, you not quite believing that Mr. Filmbro’s favourite film was within your arsenal. Weeks ago, you would have bullied him relentlessly for the ironic hypocrisy.

When he pulled out the fated DVD, you let out the greatest laugh.

The boy instantly frowned, but you did not realise, cackling and cackling away at the selection, the final boss of Vernon’s favourite film, nestled between his fingers. “Shut up,” he mumbled, but again, you did not hear him, lost in the shrill sound of your laughter, erupting the room to life. 

“Oh, Jesus—” Your chortling did not seem to stop, almost to the point of hiccups. “Your ass…this entire time—!”

“And suddenly I’m leaving!” Vernon announced, getting up and about to drop the DVD. 

He did not last long in his determination when you grabbed onto the end of his shirt, grinning still. “Thank God you’re not a Nolan kiss-ass…that’s all I’m saying.”

All he could do was stand like an idiot, the tips of your fingers caressing the skin just above his trousers. “But I am a Nolan kiss-ass,” he murmured, crossing his arms. 

“That’s what I thought, too, but this film—” you jerked your head towards the prize in his hand. “You’ve redeemed yourself.”

“Stop it,” he only said, crouching down to pull out the Tangled CD, replacing it with the new, and, in his opinion, improved movie. “This is why I didn’t want to tell anyone.”

“And nobody will know,” you assured him, watching the movie’s main menu pop up, the PLAY option highlighted. “This’ll be our secret.”

“First the trespassing,” Vernon began, sitting down beside you, “Then the tampering of movies, and now this.” He grabbed the remote, about to play the movie. “How much more are we gonna sneak around?”

You looked at him, and the smile you offered him had him glancing away—only for a second. “Have you not had fun, though? Sneaking around with me?”

Normally, in a situation where he had zero balls, he would have evaded such a question, not fanned the flames of your fire. But tonight he had watched a Disney movie with you, felt your fingers caressing his skin, had even kissed you in the purple hues of Tangled’s light. Tonight, he could conquer the world.

What would answering a heated question do any harm?

Vernon locked eyes with you then, trying to fight his smile. “I think I could have fun with you anywhere…in secret or for anyone to see.”

As something in your gaze shifted, he turned the film on (an entendre which was completely intentional). 

Once again, the two of you were in the same position, watching yet another film, this time another’s all time favourite. The narrator began in a strange, European accent, explaining the tale of an unfortunate princess, much like Rapunzel, and her dire situation. 

Although it was undoubtedly his most treasured film, the boy had a very hard time paying attention when all he could feel was that penetrating stare of yours, capable of revealing his very soul from beneath his measly shirt. Even when the stranger main character was introduced, following his main routine in his strangest abode, Vernon was not particularly concentrating anymore.

Not when he heard your voice, a soft question amongst the gaudy music of the 2000s. “Do you mean that, Vernon?”

And perhaps it was because you said his actual name, especially when your voice sounded like…like that. Like something from a perfect movie soundtrack, akin to the end-credits of an unforgettable TV show. 

Because he was too occupied with simply admiring you, he merely nodded, biting the inside of his cheek.

And because you were too busy admiring him, his words, the entire night where you had felt pure, euphoric joy, you did Mr. Filmbro a little dirty by making a decision that negated his film.

You shifted closer once more, hands reaching out to hold his face. 

This time, Vernon was prepared when you kissed him.

There was a certain eagerness in your lips this time which was newer—more enjoyable to his senses. It made sense now, why all these couples in movies made out for hours and hours on end. He felt as if he could kiss you forever, move against your mouth, delve inside until his tongue memorised your very imprint. 

You moaned a little louder this time, and the very sound had his heartbeat racing, moreso when, as he pressed you against him, shifting upon his beanbag, he knew then and there that something in the air shifted.

Last time, you had stopped. This time, there was no such indication—the very thought had him skirting his hands around you, holding you tight enough to never let go.

Still—even with such possibilities, there was no way you and him would escalate to the point of losing his virginity.

Whatever happens though, he will still watch the end of his favourite film. 

Whatever happens, Vernon would not be having sex with you if Shrek was playing in the background.

VERNON LOST HIS VIRGINITY WITH SHREK PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND.

Certainly not his greatest achievements, considering he could not focus on his favourite movie, but it was certainly not his fault. You were—to put it quite plainly—hot as fuck.

He did not leave until the very next day because—as he had stated that night—he still wanted you to watch Shrek, and did, somehow, end up watching it properly. You did not stop teasing him, and he did not stop shutting you up by kissing you senseless. 

Unfortunately, the boy did have college the next day, so he had to leave at some point, but not without promises of meeting you again. This time, however, you two did not continue the crimes he committed with you. You and Vernon were not modern-day Joker and Harley Quinn.

When the two of you were not terrorising Mingyu’s livelihood, you decided to hang out at the filmstore, where it all began. Vernon would host weekly movie nights, and both of you would eat popcorn and watch each other’s recommendations, scoring them differently in accordance to what was most important for each other.

For the film majoring student, the rating was influenced not only by the actors’ performances, but also from the intricate storyline, the character developments, their relationships. A story, for him at least, was about relationships. Good cinema was about the chemistry between two actors, the emotional connection they had not just with each other, but also their effect on the audience. The actual editing of the film, too, was another bullet point in his criteria.

Your rating, on the other hand, differed slightly. 

“Michelle Yeoh is such a MILF,” was your only comment upon finishing Everything Everywhere All at Once. 

This comment nearly made Vernon lose his mind. “One of the greatest movies of this decade, and this is your only input?”

“But am I wrong, though?”

Vernon sighed a little at that—at the end of the day, you were absolutely in the right. There was a reason Crazy Rich Asians went platinum in his dingy little room. 

Of course, it was not just his personal recommendations that played. You had compiled a list of your all-time favourites, going beyond Disney’s borders, and Vernon was introduced to the dashing timeless genre of the rom-com. Now having a younger sister who (he thought) was a basic bitch meant he did possess some knowledge of the genre, but he had never really sat down and watched a rom-com without falling asleep in Sofia’s bed. 

For you, though, he braved the most famous romances, which he found himself enjoying more than he would have liked—more so when he found one of his favoured actors in 10 Things I Hate About You.

“Heath Ledger singing was something I never thought I needed,” Vernon commented as the ferocious couple finally kissed. 

“And this is the same fella who was the Joker in your little Nolan film,” you reminded him, as if he was not aware already. “Oh, and he was the gay cowboy in that movie.”

“Gay cowboy?” His confusion lasted for approximately thirty seconds before he groaned, pushing you over on your beanbag. “My god, are you talking about Brokeback Mountain?”

“Yes, that one!” you exclaimed, picking up the TV remote. “My guy has range, but him as a high schooler is still my favourite role.”

“You do realise how bad that sounds, right?”

“You know what I mean,” you said, waving him off as you began searching for the next movie. “Now, Two Weeks’ Notice or The Proposal?”

Vernon endeavoured to weigh in on the options. “Which one do you think I’d like?”

“Well, both have Sandra Bullock in them…”

He looked over both DVDs. “Now that’s a white woman I can get behind.” 

You scooched a little over to him, locking your hands together. “We can watch something you like…” When he knitted his brows together, not quite answering you, you went on, almost unable to look him in the eye. “You’ve been super nice, you know…sitting through all my favourites.” 

The boy could not help it, unable to let a smirk slip. “Is this _____ appreciating me for once?” The beginnings of his shit-eating attitude did not develop, since your smack on his arm completely snuffed it out. “Ow, damn!”

“You deserved that,” you muttered, beginning to scoot away until Vernon’s hand on your wrist stopped you. 

When you focused your gaze at him, he already beat you to it. “Let’s watch both today.” 

It was silly, how that made your heart beat faster. “Really? You would watch two rom-coms in a row?”

As his hand pulled you closer, his stare had you almost—almost—nervous. “I’ve done worse for you.”

“Very true,” you said, absent-minded, more lost in the twinkle of his eyes. “Very, uh…good point.”

Vernon thanked all the higher bodies that may have existed for the pure, unadulterated rizz he was attempting to spew. “I’m full of good points,” he crowed. “Now, are you going to stare at me all night, or are we going to watch Sandra Bullock?”

Although your cheeks burned, you pushed him off, earning a chuckle from him. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Mr. Filmbro. The only man I’ll be staring at will be Ryan Reynolds in The Proposal.”

All of the boy’s suave attitude dissipated at his shock. “The Deadpool guy?!”

“Ryan Reynolds did have range before,” you explained, shaking your head. “Then the superhero bug bit him.”

“What a shame,” he only said, as if Vernon did not follow the Deadpool universe to the point of possessing special editioned comics in his room. Still, he happily slotted the CD inside the player, and excused himself to make more popcorn for the two of you.

As the boy prepared snacks, glancing back every time at the opening scene, he managed to sneak a look at you, eagerly watching the screen. 

He could only smile, putting all the popcorn in the huge bowl before hurrying back to you. 

THIS WAS PROBABLY THE FIRST TIME YOU WORE A SUIT TO A CINEMA. PERHAPS THIS WAS THE FIRST TIME YOU WORE A SUIT AT ALL.

Admittedly, it was not as if you had intended to go into the cinema in formal attire—or, at least the only formal clothing you had. Your first plan was to steal something from your father’s wardrobe, but when you tried it on, it did not fit properly, and you refused to look like an idiot in public.

Not that you cared much about looking like an idiot in public before, but there was another person to look out for. And that person, although had already done embarrassing enough actions for you, did not want to push it further. One more ceremonious act of humiliation, and Vernon would have run a thousand miles from you—or that was what you thought. 

You observed your cinema fit one last time before your bathroom mirror, fixing the lapels for the nth time. Your rented three-piece suit was almost a second skin, waistcoat snug underneath the tweed jacket, matching coloured trousers adorned alongside. You borrowed some Oxford brogues from a friend, which made you realise that you had more posh friends than you knew. You tried to find a hat similar to the one Cillian Murphy wore in the promotions, but because you did not have the wardrobe of a middle aged man, you resorted to let your head rest. 

All of this elaborate planning to see Nolan’s (apparently) greatest release yet—Oppenheimer. 

Because the cinema was not far away from you, you decided to walk, messaging your date to let him know that you were on your way. You were certain he was already there in the cinema; Vernon, since you had started hanging out more with him, had only ever talked about Nolan’s upcoming epic. You swore if you recited the IMDB plot out to him during sex, he would have spunked within minutes (a mental note to experiment on that later). His excitement had you booking midnight release tickets, which consequently made him so happy you thought you had invited Nolan to the town cinema. 

The night, furthering along, had beautified the black sky, stars twinkling on your journey. The consistent vibrations from your phone indicated the boy’s imminent excitement, and you smiled, double-checking your formal attire once more. You would have romanticised the nighttime further but living in student area brought you right back to fearing slightly for your life, so you quickened your step, cinema already a close speck in the distance. 

You knew you were nearer to the destination when the flocks of pink and black grew, the cowboy hats and fake pipes all piling up in your vision. Seeing the pink reminded you of Barbie’s influence, also being released tonight alongside the more serious counterpart. 

A small part of you really wanted to see the midnight release for the new movie. The original plan most people were following was either to watch Oppenheimer and then Barbie, or the other way around. You were so close to procuring tickets for the latter, but decided that it was important to accompany Vernon to the seemingly bigger release. After all, you were never as excited about films as the dear film major you had rather grown to like.

Another vibration of your phone, and you finally decided to stop ignoring said-film major and text him, possibly informing you of his arrival.

mr. filmbro: yo where u at

mr. filmbro: they’re too many pink mfs out here im getting suffocated

You rolled your eyes.

_____: im coming to save u kitten.

mr. filmbro: :0

Once you were inside, it was a complete sea of pink and black and grey. Two sides, which one would assume would be opposing, were all celebrating, sharing their drinks, anticipating when the theatre doors would open to let everyone in. Within this myriad of fans, you tried to search for the most mentally ill one—the one who you were certain had a finer three-piece set than you, who would have happily stolen Cillian Murphy’s set clothes to truly honour the movie. 

Strangely enough, after a few minutes, you could not find him, even after confirming your seats. You searched for anyone wearing anything devoid of colour, but did not find the boy. This time, you decided to bother him, calling him and pressing the phone to your ear. 

“Where are you, kitten?” you purposely growled, lowering your voice an octave. “Daddy’s waiting.”

“Kitten actually killed himself after hearing that,” was his purposeful monotone. 

“Can you resurrect yourself for me real quick? I’m tryna find where you are.” 

“I’m next to the Oppenheimer popup.” Immediately you tried to find it, scouring through the crowds. “I figured you’d find me easier.”

Scoffing, you ignored the Barbie stalls, walking further ahead. “How very smart of you to wear Oppenheimer clothing while standing next to it. So much easier to find you, isn’t it?”

He did not retort back, instead inciting your excitement. “Wait, I think I can see you…?”

Your eyes darted over to the fresh faces of the Nolan fans, all taking pictures of the cast pop-ups. What you were observing were the men and women, all lack of colour. 

What your gaze ended up on was someone completely different. 

What you were expecting was a mini-Oppenheimer, the too-large blazer, the sashed hat upon pretty brown curls. What you received instead was a boy engulfed in all the pinks of the colour wheel.

Pink was the colour of his top, bubblegum pink the colour of the stringy fur coat sporting over said shirt. Magenta was the colour of his flared trousers, whilst rose was the colour of his converse. What topped off the entire look was the hot pink cowboy hat, sitting perfectly upon his wavy locks, completing his fit—a fit which was perfect for the Barbie movie. 

It was around that point that he caught on to your stare—through the oceans of opposing fans, he, too, finally found you.

Vernon heard your curse murmur through the phone. “Oh my fucking God.”

That was when his own gaze roamed over you, shocked and shameless amongst the crowds. Not that the crowds mattered, not anymore. He was a little nervous, he had to admit it to himself, only because there were so many people, and they were only watching for the fad, for the trend. A part of him wanted just you and him in this midnight cinema, the biggest official date yet. 

But then seeing you here, in all your black-clad, Oppenheimered glory, had stunned him to his core. Although he had specifically brought you here to watch the movie, he had completely expected you to arrive in the pinkmania fit. Because you had kindly booked tickets for his anticipated film, he thought at least to participate in the Barbie craze fit.

It was like instinct, how his steps gravitated towards you, his phone still pressed against his ear, very much like you. You followed him slowly, hearing his ragged breaths through the speaker, watching him walk closer and closer until you both were a mere couple of feet away.

Only then did you drop the call, your hands at your sides as you admired him. It was a while before any of you spoke. 

Like always, you spoke first. “Tell me the fur coat is yours.”

A ghost of a smirk. “Sofia’s.”

“Stealing’s like second nature to you now, isn’t it?” you taunted. 

Like always, he dodged your taunts. “I thought you were gonna wear all pink.”

“I thought you were gonna wear all black.”

He tilted his head. “Well, I thought since we were watching both movies…”

Your confusion was clear, the corner of his lips curling further up. “Wasn’t Oppenheimer first?”

He then went inside his flared trouser pockets, fishing out two tickets—its colours matching his outfit. “I know how much you wanted to see Margot Robbie be silly.” 

“I did!” you exclaimed, taking the tickets from him, admiring how pretty they were designed, especially when compared to the Oppenheimer marketing tickets. In your admiration, though, you noticed a detail which had your excitement faltering. “Wait, are you sure? It says the movie’s at the same time.”

Vernon then checked the timings, mouth parting. “Oh shit. Didn’t think about that.” He shook his head, mouth straightening in a line, dejected. “This is what happens when I try to do something romantic.”

“I have to give points for effort,” you offered, bringing your hands to his wrist. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s watch Oppenheimer, honestly. Cillian Murphy is still hot when he’s old.”

“No, no,” he countered, clasping your hands on his wrist. “It’s chill.” He glanced down. “Let’s do Barbie first.”

You attempted to argue him on this, but he simply let go of your hands, with his one hand wrapping around your waist, and the other hand’s wrist being checked for the time. You bit back a smile at his mere actions, relishing his fingers skirting under the suit, the waistcoat. “Vernon,” you attempted. 

“_____,” he said back, staring at you with an awe that you have deserved if you were wearing a couture gown, not some rented hand-me-downs. 

You knew he would not take no for an answer now. “But what about Oppenheimer?” you asked anyway as the two of you made your way to the cinema. 

Vernon only pretended to think extremely deeply of the situation, making you elbow him playfully. “Now tell me, Dear Disney Hag, how did we enter Mingyu’s house?”

“Why, we walked straight in!” you answered like an over-enthusiastic student, in which he sarcastically clapped for you. 

“Right on.” As you both walked towards the Barbie theatre, the opposing movie was being screened right beside you, where people were bursting in. “See how everyone is walking in right now?” He gave you a knowing glance. 

That knowing glance had you scoffing in excited disbelief. “My God! Look at you, all ready to commit crimes!” you looped a hand around his arm. “I have taught you well, young man.”

He patted your arm. “Mr. Filmbro has come a long way from chatting shit about your movie taste.”

“So you admit it?” you leaned in. “Disney makes better movies than your flop directors?”

“That’s a completely different claim,” he clarified. “My taste in films is objectively better.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact you're watching the Barbie movie before Oppenheimer.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging you closer. “That’s ‘cause I like you a lot, Disney Hag…”

You did not stop your smile from lighting up your entire face. “You’re not the most insufferable filmbro I’ve dated I guess…”

”I better be the last filmbro you date,” he muttered, watching over the last of the crowds, where they now stood, waiting to enter the theatre.

The longer you waited to answer him, the more incredulous his face became, brows knotted in disbelief. You only chuckled, leaning in and pressing your lips upon his. Of course, he was taken aback, but surprises like these were pleasant, welcomed with open arms as Vernon closed his eyes, pulling you in. 

The moment the line started quickening you broke away, only to make sure no one skipped in front of you and him, and thus deal with yours and his passive aggression. You could not help the giggle that escaped you at breaking away from his lips, relishing in his dazed state. 

Honestly—you truly would not have minded being anywhere with him.

When it was finally your turn to go inside the Barbie screening, you held tightly to his hand. “Let’s go, Mr. Filmbro.”

Vernon only smiled. “Right behind you, _____.”

And as the two of you entered the theatre, hand-in-hand, the boy learned that perhaps he, too, would have gone anywhere with you. 

Chef's Kiss - Bang Chan

pairing : bangchan x fem!reader

summary : your husband chan came home from a long day at work and knew exactly what he needed to relax.

contains : soft dom!chan, unprotected sex, fingering, size kink, belly bulge, slight overstimulation

words : 2.2k

Ever since you and Chan got married, it felt like the two of you managed to grow even more obsessed with each other. Whether you were at work or running errands, all you could think about was seeing him and you found it impossible to put off the urge to be with him at all times. You knew the problem was mutual as Chan had gotten so much more clingy, unable to spend a single second away from you.

However it soon became so much harder for you to spend time together as work piled up and your hectic schedules failed to align. At times you would come home late from work and find him passed out on the couch, and other times you would fall asleep waiting for him.

The clock strikes nine as you stand in front of the stove, stirring the pan of pasta as the savoury aroma lingers in the air. The only audible sound was the bubbling of the thick pasta sauce and your occasional sighs as you waited for Chan to arrive from his work meeting which happened to go on for a lot longer than you liked.

Just as your frustration starts to kick in, you hear the front door swing open and the sound of your husband Chan’s comforting voice echoes through your shared apartment.

“Baby I'm home.” He calls out to you as he drops his bag and walks to the kitchen. You look over your shoulder and there he is, standing with a soft smile which sadly failed to conceal his exhaustion. Your face lights up as you feel his soothing presence envelop you.

He walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist, his tired face resting in the crook of your neck.

“Mmm smells so good.” He mutters as he takes a long inhale and you're unsure if he refers to the food you're cooking.

“I know you're starving but it's almost done, so just a few more minutes.” You tell him and shift your attention back to the pan of pasta.

“Well, then can I spend some time with the chef first?” He asks as he plants a small kiss on the skin of your neck.

You can't help but giggle, “You could but, then you'll have to eat a cold dinner.”

“It's alright.” he mumbles in your neck as his right hand reaches for the stove knob and twists it, turning it off.

You turn around to face him, your expression a mixture of affection and concern as you stare at him. “You literally just got back, you need some rest.”

Chan’s grip around your waist tightens and he pulls you closer to himself, his body flush against yours. “But…I need you more.” He whispers as his hand sneaks behind you to find the flesh of your ass and gives it a light squeeze.

You wince at his sudden touch and look up at him. He lifts his other arm and uses his fingers to cup your face as he gently strokes his thumb across your cheek. The look on his face is soft yet filled with desire as his half-lidded eyes stare into yours.

His eyes shift to your lips and his face slowly gets closer, and closer to yours until your face is just a few inches apart from his. You shut your eyes closed and instantly feel his plump lips delicately press onto yours.

The kiss starts off sweet and slow, your lips gracefully moving against each other in a perfect rhythm, as if meant to fit together. Even though it was nothing special, your heart is racing as if it's the first time you've ever kissed.

Chan grows impatient and flicks his tongue against your lips, demanding your permission. You are quick to respond and soon enough, the movements of your hot mouths become faster and more aggressive.

His hand drops from your face to hook tightly around your waist and he picks you up. You immediately wrap your legs around his torso and grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself as you continue kissing him.

He turns around and takes a few steps towards the kitchen counter opposite to the stove, placing you on the cold marble surface. Chan pulls away and his mouth trails down to suck at the soft skin of your neck and exposed collarbones.

You tip your head back slightly, giving him better access to work his mouth on every inch of your burning skin. You hold the back of his head, fingers tangled in his hair as small sighs of pleasure escape your throat.

You feel his hand crawl under your sweater to gently massage the tender flesh of your breast, his fingertips circling around your perked nipple. He lightly pinches and rolls the hardened bud between his index finger and thumb.

“Ah…” A quiet moan slips from your lips, and you tug on the strands of his hair as the overwhelming feeling engulfs you.

Your reaction tempts Chan and he uses his free hand to cup the mound of your pussy, slowly palming it through the thin fabric of your shorts.

“So wet already?” He pulls back from your neck and taunts you as his fingers rub the moist patch you didn't even realize was forming on the cotton.

He skillfully slides his fingers up and down your clothed pussy and you bite your lip, your cunt dripping even wetter at the blissful sensation. Your clit throbs painfully in the confines of your soaking shorts, begging to be touched as his piercing eyes stare into yours. This makes you roll your hips towards him in an attempt to push his fingers deeper inside your folds.

“God, you're so desperate.” He utters in a low voice.

His hand stops moving and you suddenly feel his finger add pressure on the aching bundle of nerves in your pussy. Your back arches, head jerking back at the immense wave of arousal washing over you.

“Ugh- Chan…” You whimper in a pathetic tone as your hand drops from his head to grip the edge of the countertop.

“You like that?” He presses even harder on your swollen clit, while his other hand drops from your tit to rest on your thigh.

“Chan, please…” 

“Please what?” He questions.

“I want you.”

“Come on, you can do better than that.” He says as he starts rubbing slow circles on your clit.

Your body squirms, unable to contain the heat pooling at your core any longer. 

“Ah- please, I want you to fuck me.”

You look up at him with pleading eyes, mouth slightly parted and his expression softens at the sight. He removes his hand from your thigh and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Then I should give my baby what she wants.” His fingers grip the soft wool of your sweater and pull it up, taking it off of you and tossing it on the floor. He takes a second to admire your body, his eyes shifting from the hickeys he just left to your bare tits.

Chan reaches for the waistband of your shorts and you lift your hips up, making it easier for him to peel the piece of fabric off. You sit in front of him fully naked and he traces your figure with his eyes as if he had never seen you like this before.

“You're so fucking hot you know that?” He asks as his eyes come back up to meet yours and a shy smile spreads on your face.

Before you know it, his hand is back on your pussy, this time without the annoying fabric separating you from his touch. His digits travel downward till they lightly hover over your slicked core and without warning, his finger slips knuckle deep inside you.

“S-shit.” The sudden sensation makes you whimper and soon after, you feel him add another finger inside your aching cunt. He slowly pumps his long fingers in and out of you, small moans falling from your lips as your eyes pinch close.

He pulls his fingers out of you and you let out a sad whine at the loss of stimulation and look up at him.

“Lay back for me.” Chan commands, his voice almost a whisper.

You immediately lean backwards till the skin of your back hits the cool marble, your feet dangling in the air. His hands rush to unbutton his work shirt and he takes it off of himself before unzipping his pants. He pulls it down along with his underwear and you spread your legs even further apart, your juices dripping out onto the counter.

His cock jumps out, precum leaking from the red tip as he wraps his fingers around the thick shaft. Even though you've taken it so many times before, the sheer size of it never fails to intimidate you.

He taps his dick on your soppy cunt a few times, watching it clench around nothing in desperation. He slowly guides his fat tip into your hole and your jaw falls open as you feel your pussy stretch around his thick cock. 

“Fuck, you're so tight.” He curses under his breath.

He continues pushing himself inside you inch by inch and your vision starts to blur, the heat in your abdomen threatening to spill.

“It’s s-so big.” You cry out as he fills you up.

“But you're taking me so well baby.”

Chan lets out a deep groan as the last bit of his length enters you and you feel his tip press against your cervix. Your brain goes fuzzy, the blood in your arteries boiling hot as he bottoms out in you.

“Your pretty pussy’s sucking me right in.” He praises as you clench around his base, pulling him deeper inside your gummy walls. His hands grab the back of your knees and he presses your legs down till they touch your chest, folding you in half.

He slides his dick out of you, till only his tip remains in your drenched cunt and slams it back into you with a harsh jerk of his hips. You feel the head of his cock hit the soft spot in your belly even harder this time.

“Ah- fuck!” A loud moan escapes your throat as he starts pounding in and out of your pussy at a fast pace and your body jolts up. You feel your bones turn to jelly, stars twinkling across your closed eyelids as the hot pit in your stomach sends vibrations through your nerves.

You lift your head from where it rested on the counter and look down to see his cock repeatedly bulge out of your belly with each thrust of his hips.

“Ugh- you're so deep!” You whine as the heat at your core continues spreading through you.

He lets go of one of your legs and places his veiny hand on your lower belly, pressing down on the bulge. He simultaneously picks up his pace, ramming into your spongy walls harder and faster and you throw your head back, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

“God, right there!” You almost yell out as his cock kisses your sweet spot over and over again. Chan's heavy panting mixed with the lewd squelching sounds of your pussy fill the kitchen air, but you are too fucked out to hear any of it.

His hands grab your waist, nails digging crescent shapes into your skin as you feel his veins pulsate and twitch inside your puffy cunt. 

“Fucking shit!” He swears in a raspy voice.

His fingers move down to toy with your sensitive clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your toes curl as you feel the familiar sensation build up between your legs, waiting to throw you over the edge anytime now.

“G-gonna cum!” You whimper loudly.

His next thrust hits you harder than you expect and sends your mind spiraling into another dimension as your long awaited orgasm rips through you. You squeal in a high pitched voice, your body shaking as Chan fucks you through your high.

“There you go baby, cum on my cock like a good girl.” He says as he chases his own high, his pace unsteady and sloppy. 

He continues fucking into your overstimulated pussy and your muscles tightens, the intense pleasure almost unbearable. You open your eyes slightly and through your blurred vision, see Chan's eyes shut and his brows furrowed. 

“Gonna fill you up so nice.”

Before your brain can process his words, he shoots his load deep into you as a low grunt exits his lips. You gasp as the warm white strings coat your walls and fill you up. 

His thrusts slow down as he rides out his high, his cock sticky with your wetness and his own cum. He stops moving and pulls his dick out of your pussy, his cum dripping out of your hole.

You lay on the countertop, your chest rising and falling with each breath you take. You have no energy left in your body to sit up or enough brainpower to even try and Chan knows that.

He hooks his arm under your waist as his other hand supports the back of your neck and he pulls you up into his embrace. He holds you tight, the comforting warmth of his skin seeping into your body and you almost fall asleep right there.

“I missed you.” He says in a soft voice as he strokes your hair.

“I missed you too.”

HAPPIER NOW - park jongseong smau

synopsis- in which y/n finally moves on from her toxic cheating ex Lee heeseung to Park jongseong who makes her believe in love again.

Pairing- ex heeseung x fem!reader x boyfriend jay

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 (final)

taglist (bold cannot be tagged)- @imanalien143 @cyberstephzz @4yuj1nn @hoseokteardrop @caibeauchicfashion @sewergirlfriend @lelsforlino @enhafeels @riki-riks-chick @simbabyj @kim2005bomi @heartheejake @pshwrldd @eneiyri @mafiulaputaama @xeee334 @firstclassjaylee @saeivra @jungjinnie @sungmincity @kkamismom12

@onlyhyunjin. Do not steal, copy, plagiarize, or translate my work, especially without my consent.

Baby Fever

Bang Chan x fem!reader

Warnings: baby talks?

Genre: fluff, established relationship

Summary: You and Chan are at a baby store, shopping for a friend's baby shower. And your husband experiences baby fever for the very first time.

The minute you step into the store, it feels like you've stepped into some kind of wonderland. The soft pastel shades, and soothing music in the background are just so overwhelmingly cute. You and Chan stroll through the store, browsing through the shelves for some gifts for your friend's baby shower.

You split up briefly, as you look through some cute little onesies, and Chan wanders away. A few minutes later, you realize that it's a bit too quiet, and Chan is nowhere to be seen. You look around, placing the onsie back in its place and your eyes search for your lost husband.

You start weaving through the aisles, your phone in hand to give him a call. And that's when you spot him.

Chan is standing in front of a display of baby shoes. In his hands is the tiniest pair of pastel blue baby shoes you've ever seen. His eyes are filled with awe, his lips curled into the softest smile.

You couldn't help but smile, leaning against a nearby shelf.

"Channie... everything ok?"

He jumps slightly, turning to look at you with wide eyes.

"Aren't these the cutest?" he asks, holding up the shoes like they were the most precious thing in the world. His voice is so full of excitement, you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

"They are cute," you tease, walking closer.

"So tiny!" Chan says, his cheeks glowing pink.

"They're baby shoes Channie, of course they're tiny." You say softly.

"But," Chan doesn't look like he understands. "How can anyone have such tiny feet?!"

You giggle watching him examine the little shoes in his hand, and it's just so pure and wholesome, your heart swells with love.

"That's how babies work, Chan. They have tiny feet, tiny hands... tiny everything!" You say, touching his arm gently.

"I know...its just, different, seeing it like this." Chan looks completely gone by now.

"What's on your mind, baby?" You ask, seeing the way Chan was so lost in the little thing. "Do you want to buy these for Jisoo?"

"What? No." Chan says quickly, holding the boots to his chest. "What if we… you know… need them someday?"

His cheeks are so red by now. You stare at your husband, trying to wrap your head around what he's trying to say. Sure, you've talked about babies before. You both want to have kids one day. But you've never really thought when.

You raise an eyebrow, amusement bubbling up inside you.

"Someday?"

Chan grins shyly, his ears turning slightly pink.

"You know…maybe... for our baby?" His voice is so low, you can barely hear him.

You bite your lip so you don't laugh, not because of the suggestion itself, but because of how adorably serious he looks.

"Chan, you can't just buy baby boots without a baby!" You say, covering your mouth with your hand as you laugh.

"But look at them!" He waves the tiny shoes in front of your face. "They’re so small, and soft, and—just imagine our baby in these!"

His eyes light up, and he's completely invested in this thought.

You lean in closer, your voice soft as you tease, "You can buy them once we have someone to wear them."

You wink at him and pretend it's nothing, but the effect is instantaneous. Chan’s face changes, the playful grin fading. He blinks, his lips parting slightly as his gaze locks with yours. And it's your turn to blush, as he says something that catches you completely off guard.

"Then let’s have a baby," he says, his voice soft but determined.

"Wait, what?" you stammer, as you blink in surprise.

"I mean it," he says, clutching the boots close to his heart. "If you’re up for it, I want this. I want… us to have a baby."

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, your heart racing as you try to process his words. He is standing in front of you, baby boots in hand, with a look that is literally melting you on the spot. It is so absurdly cute and yet so deeply romantic at the same time.

"Channie-" You begin, but he just looks at you with those puppy eyes, making you want to just give in already.

But you reach out and take his hand in yours, and say, "We're in the middle of a store, baby. Can we go home and talk about this?"

His expression softens, but he is still holding on to the boots like they meant everything to him.

"Ok." He says, smiling at you.

Later, when you both reach the checkout counter, you are billing the items when you see it. A pair of tiny pastel blue shoes sliding across the counter as the cashier scans them.

"Chan!" You hiss, giving him a look. "Are you serious right now?!"

He shrugged, a sly grin creeping up on his face. "What? You never know when we'll need them!"

"You're unbelievable."

"I just like to be prepared."

"Oh my God!" You just can't with his guy.

"I have a feeling we'll need them real soon. Just saying." He smirks at you as you shake your head at him.

Your heart skips a beat and you playfully shove him away, both of you smiling.

As you walked out of the store, you couldn't help but feel a little warmth bloom inside your chest. And as you look at Chan, you know that those shoes will come in handy sooner than you think.

TO BELIEVE — s.jaeyun

PAIRING: ex!jake x fem!reader  GENRES: angst, smut, fluff WC: 15.4k+

WARNINGS: argument, swearing, mention of cheating, fights, brief description of a physical fight, unprotected sex (don't do it, do it safely), nipple play, cumming inside. lmk if i've forgotten anything.

SYNOPSIS: you have the mission of being godmother at your brother's wedding, but the only obstacle is sharing it with his best friend, and your ex-bf who you're sure cheated on you, jake sim.

NOTES: one of the many stories i have saved for my jake. it was supposed to be short, but i can't, i always get carried away writing it! i hope you enjoy it.

masterlist

“I don't believe it” you said, a sigh of weariness and discontent coming from your lips when your brother's voice informed you of this.

You had known that he and Josie would get married from the moment they got engaged in their last year of high school. Heeseung was completely in love with your best friend and you, being a great person, encouraged the two of them to get together. But what frustrated you wasn't the wedding itself, or the responsibility you had been given as a bridesmaid, but the fact that it would all be shared with Jake Sim, Josie's brother and, ironically, your ex-boyfriend.

It would be a blessing to have his friendship after the two of you broke up because, after all, both families would be united one way or another. But the break-up hadn't been pleasant at all and, after a year apart, any interaction between you and Jake was cause for friction. If you were in a cartoon, sparks would surely fly from the two of you every time you were in the same room.

“Come on Y/n, Jake is my best friend and Josie's brother” Heeseung sighed too, putting on a pout that almost had you convinced of the proposal “It was obvious that he would be best man with you at our wedding.”

Your brother was right and you knew it from the start. Since before you and Jake broke up. When Heeseung and Josie talked about marriage in college, saying that the two of you would be the best man because it was perfect that you were both also dating. A coincidence that life provided. Your best friend dating your brother and you dating your best friend's brother. But since things weren't that simple for you, only Josie was happy now.

“Can't you and she, I don't know, just have more than one best man?” your eyes wandered over to your brother who was trying to maintain a relaxed posture, his body slumped nonchalantly on the sofa at your parents' house. Where you and he got together every weekend for lunch or just to pass the time in your hectic lives without any contact during the week “I'd love to be a bridesmaid to Jungwon, for example.”

“He'll be one of the godparents, of course” Heeseung smiled at you, although his gaze was on the large television that was playing some program that your brother could barely pay attention to “But your mission and Jake's are much greater because, well… You'll be our witnesses.”

It was a more than important title. Witnessing their union from the beginning, seeing them sign the papers and then exchange vows, it was all so beautiful.

“That's not the problem” he sighed so loudly that it was only at that moment that Heeseung stopped staring at the television so that he could look in your direction “It's that I'm going to have to go after practically everything for you and Josie together with Jake.”

“A great opportunity for you two to talk and finally understand each other” he said without thinking, regretting it at the exact moment he felt a pillow fly at his head “Ouch! What the fuck, Y/n?”

“You're defending him again!”

“I'm just telling you to really listen to him” Heeseung protected himself from another pillow to the head, holding it in the air before you could even hit him “Jake wouldn't be able to do that. Even more so with you.”

Even more so with you. Why did your brother insist on defending Jake? As if you were dumb enough to have gone to meet him in the locker room before the friendly match and, unfortunately, found a bra in his locker that wasn't yours. You didn't even wear pink bows on the bulge, it was too cute. Only someone wore that kind of outfit, showing off to everyone who had the chance. So it was easy to associate Jake, the captain of the university soccer team, with the slutty cheerleader you grew to hate even more.

Both Heeseung and Josie were forbidden to talk about it, to defend Jake in your presence, or to make you talk to him after you decided to end it all. It could have been completely childish of you not to listen to him, to throw your bra at Jake and utter the last words you could, looking deep into those brown eyes you had once come to love.

“I hate that I loved you” Jake didn't think it would hurt more than the accusation of betrayal, even though he hadn't even had the chance to say anything. Your voice was like a deep cut, bigger than any injury he had once felt playing soccer.

After that day you saw Jake Sim as the biggest traitor in history and the person you had all the bad feelings for. Even if the words had to be a little more restrained in the presence of family or when you decided to omit all the bad things that happened, saying that the break-up was because you wanted to take a trip abroad. The trip happened, and spending almost eight months in Madrid was able to clear your head.

Being away from Jake and everything that involved him and your family – which was now his too – helped you to cope a little with the distance. But you came back so quickly with the news of your brother's wedding that the last few months since your arrival in Madrid have all ended in arguments, or you and Jake swearing at each other until you can't take it anymore.

You could say you felt physical pain just being in his presence because you knew it was inevitable that you wouldn't have a single argument. Did he feel entitled to feel resentful and hurt by something he had done? And did Jake get irritated by the way you got angry without even giving him a chance to explain properly? Jake would never do that, but your mind and your eyes told you otherwise. You didn't want to listen to him, you didn't want to live with him. Perhaps living in Madrid after your brother's wedding could be an almost real thought, although you would never be able to leave your family in the long term.

“Y/n” Heeseung called out, taking you out of your thoughts as he held your hand. The gentle, comforting touch that only your older brother could provide “I know this situation will always be bad for you and him, but—” he squeezed your hand lightly “Can you do this for me and Josie? Please?”

The pleading voice was an extremely low game that Heeseung played with you to get what he wanted, but at that moment you felt vulnerability. You felt that he really wanted you to accept because it went beyond anything between you and Jake. It wasn't on purpose that he and Josie had done this, after all, you and Jake were the brothers of the bride and groom anyway. You both had to be at that wedding one way or another.

Squeezing Heeseung's hands back, you let out a low sigh. Your eyes wandered over his face as you saw hope run through the boy's eyes. It didn't seem like he was older than you and about to get married.

“All right, I'll try” you said at last, watching Heeseung's smile widen even more.

“Thanks Y/n, you're the best sister in the world” he bent down to kiss your cheek, releasing your hands to get up from the sofa.

“I'm the only sister you've got, asshole. I have to be the best!” you protested.

Heeseung's laughter echoed down the corridor to the kitchen, where he had disappeared. Surely he was going after some dessert to share with you while jabbering on about some wedding details he hadn't stopped talking about for a second since you showed up.

Your break-up wasn't an entirely amicable affair between the two of you. Your mind and heart were convinced that Jake had cheated on you, although you had never seen him get so worked up trying to explain that it would never happen. His hands gripping his hair as he paced the room, stuttering or not finishing a sentence because you didn't want to hear it. Part of you knew that denial came because you didn't want to hear anything from him and have to go back on what you saw, but another part still kept the image of that pink bow bra inside his locker in the changing room vivid.

But for your family, the break-up had gone smoothly. You both agreed to make up some excuse, after all, you'd still have to deal with each other for the rest of your lives because now Heeseung and Josie were getting married. There was no way you could avoid Jake or he could avoid you. His closest friends knew what had happened, two of Jake's best friends besides Heeseung and Susan, your other best friend along with Josie. Even though your anger towards him still remained, you didn't want others to think the wrong thing about you and Jake. Sparing you explanations or embarrassment. Even sparing you from remembering that day.

Living in a small – and false – harmony while being close to your family or anyone else who didn't know what actually happened. That's why the two of you were together in the party store at that moment.

Being appointed best man was something Jake knew would happen, ever since Heeseung confessed that he was going to propose to Josie a month before they finished university. Jake didn't want to be selfish by seeing his best friend in love while he was on the brink of ruin because, in addition to breaking up with you, he had just learned that you were going to another country. Maybe that was a good thing after all. Having you away would help him think and even try to find some way to get you to listen to him. Jake wouldn't give up on making you listen to him, even if it took years, he would make you hear the whole truth.

Looking around with a small sigh, he returned to the present moment. Staring at some baskets that he couldn't tell the material of. Wicker, bamboo or straw? Were those ropes really woven together, one by one?

“What have you got on your list?” your voice snapped him out of his reverie and made Jake look quickly in your direction. Trying to concentrate on your serious face, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he looked down at his notes.

He reached for the piece of paper in the back pocket of his jeans, opening what was already all but crumpled. While you had a notebook between your fingers, he had a piece of paper.

Typical Jake Sim, he knew you'd say that out loud if you were still together. And if you were together, you'd roll your eyes playfully and walk over to him, pick up the piece of paper, and throw it away, because his notes would be in your notebook too. And that would make you lean over and kiss him on the lips ever so sweetly, mumbling something about how Jake was a bit disorganized about it and that Josie had the craziest big brother in the world.

“Jake” you called him, almost whispering.

“Sorry” he took a deep breath, trying to focus on what was happening. Rolling his eyes at the words Josie had said a few hours ago, he hastily jotted them down on the piece of paper he was holding “I have some fabrics she asked me for and about three types of flowers for the bouquet and table arrangements.”

“Really?” you walked over to him, leaning close enough to see the piece of paper. Jake held his breath for a few seconds so as not to inhale your perfume, but if he didn't breathe, he would surely die. Then you slowly let out your breath while looking at the top of your head “Do they both think we're ceremonialists?”

“Maybe so” Jake said quietly “but from what Josie said, it's because they both trust us so much that we chose this so carefully.”

They were words she would say. Trusting you and Jake to choose the small details without giving them into the hands of someone she's never seen. Even more so Josie, who had always planned her wedding down to the smallest detail since she was fifteen, back when she hadn't even dreamed of falling in love with Lee Heeseung.

“Which of these three do you think is Josie's favorite?” your eyes searched Jake's after reading the paper. At that moment, neither of you wanted to face each other with such intensity, so close together. But you didn't know that approaching him to read the list would result in being so close. Walking away abruptly at that moment would have been rude, although you had never cared whether it was like that or not with Jake.

He looked at you. Really looked. As he had done ever since he'd seen you for the first time, and it made you feel strange inside. You wanted to think that maybe it was the nervousness of being alone with him after such a long time, being assigned to tasks like being a bridesmaid.

“Dahlia?” he said.

“Was that a question?” you asked him back, raising an eyebrow when you saw the uncertainty in Jake's voice.

“Come on, she's your best friend.”

“And she's your sister.”

“So what?” Jake asked “I don't know what her favorite flower is, Y/n. I don't even know about flowers.”

A big lie, Jake understood. In parts. When the two of you started dating, he did a lot of research on the internet about flowers and their meanings, finding out about the orchid and what it represented. When he bought you your first bouquet of orchids, reciting why he had done it, that was when Jake saw you cry with joy and love for the first time since you two started dating.

And it was from that day on that you both called the orchid the flower of your relationship.

“Yes, you do” you whispered so that he wouldn't hear, you didn't want him to hear. For him to understand that you were thinking practically the same thing as him.

Having that moment of a few hours without a single argument was the result of many requests and practically an engaged couple begging you and Jake not to jump on each other for the sake of the wedding that was yet to take place. Josie knew you well enough to know your limits around Jake, just as she also knew how her brother would cope with being in your presence for so long. It had to be perfect, and it wouldn't be something from your and Jake's old relationship that would affect what she had always dreamed of.

“I'll find the decorations for the tables, can you see the flowers?” Jake just agreed with you as he continued down the aisle of baskets and trinkets for flower arrangements. Agreeing with what you were saying was something he had been practicing over the weeks as he was assigned to spend more time than necessary by your side.

Sometimes the two of you would go out with Heeseung and Josie, looking for things related to the wedding and everything that could be used for the big party. Jake saw how much Heeseung agreed with his fiancée and, with subtle comments, he managed to change her mind when she didn't agree with something. This could be the big key to why their relationship had worked so well from the start.

Where did I go wrong? Jake felt selfish for thinking so, knowing exactly where he went wrong. He didn't insist enough on a conversation, he didn't make you listen to him the way you should have and, as a result, almost a year went by with him being set up as a liar in your head. That's why he decided not to argue and just agreed when you asked or gave your opinion. He agreed with almost everything because he knew how good you were at decorating, not to mention the fact that he knew that you and Josie had talked about marriage for hours when you were still Jake's girlfriend. He remembers nights when he would play with Heeseung while the two of you watched dress fittings, giving your opinions on which one you would like to wear on the big day.

While his sister opted for more flashy things, with some stones and sparkles in the veil, you always chose the simple, strapless dress that accentuated the curves of your body and without too much lace because you didn't want something so big. This simplicity made Jake's eyes sparkle because he could clearly see you in a simple dress. Although all the beauty would turn to your face, no matter what you were wearing.

“Flowers, Jake. Focus on the flowers” he said to himself as he pushed a trolley through the aisles of the store. Memorizing the ones Josie had told him about as an option and going to where they all were.

He had to concentrate on that or he would go mad because there was no way not to have nostalgic thoughts when you were around without fighting with him. These moments were rare, but when they happened, Jake knew he wasn't the only one who thought like that.

Looking at the labels naming each flower, he wondered if it was really necessary. Whether Josie would be angry if he chose any of them instead of the three on that piece of paper because they were just flowers. A color that wasn't too flashy – the only thing Jake could think of was that his sister wanted everything in rosé and champagne tones – and the flowers could be light pink or white. If he got one of those colors, but it wasn't the one she wanted, would his sister be happy? He didn't want to risk that much, so he sighed heavily in search of a dahlia or any of the other two that were named.

Luckily, the white dahlias weren't that far away, and Jake managed to get just the right amount to show Josie and see if that was what she was going to take. Apart from taking a small bouquet, he would probably have to go back with Heeseung and pick up countless flowers just to put on the tables of so many guests he didn't even know his sister had invited.

Rolling his eyes at some of them, Jake gathered a good amount into a clumsy bouquet but organized enough to take to the cashier and pay. His eyes rolled over a few flowers until they stopped: the orchids. He didn't want his heart to race so much that he had to bite his lower lip to suppress a smile. Jake could go on for years without talking to you, but it would never leave his mind.

“You're an idiot, Jake Sim” he hated having the habit of talking to himself while he was in such an internal dilemma but taking just one orchid and hiding it under the bouquet of dahlias was necessary at that moment. He didn't know why he'd done it, but he knew he had to.

“Have you got the flowers yet?” your voice sounded a little louder than usual, at the exact moment when Jake put the flowers into the trolley and looked down the corridor in his direction. He just nodded, watching you approach with some things he couldn't even tell you what they were. Maybe not even you. But they were all named according to what the bride and groom wanted, so all was well and good.

“Do we need anything else?” Jake asked after you'd put everything in the trolley, not even bothering to check that the amount of flowers he'd picked up was correct. This made him sigh with relief, so he wouldn't have to explain why he'd picked up an orchid out of the blue.

“I think we got everything in this store” you said at last, turning away from Jake to look in your notebook and make sure you knew what you were talking about.

He wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, run to Heeseung, and tell him what was going on. Or even ask his best friend to take his place on the next outing for the wedding stuff. Because if it went on like this, Jake didn't know if he could take it any longer.

The look on Josie's face could only indicate two things: either she was very nervous, or she had done something wrong. And considering that all the women were gathered in the living room of Mrs. Sim's house for the pre-wedding lingerie tea, maybe your friend was just nervous.

Looking at her for a while, you saw her say something to Susan and, when they both agreed on something before telling you, you could certainly suspect the second thought. This made your heart race because, if something had gone wrong, it was your job as godmother to fix it.

“What happened?” you quickly asked when the two of them approached, Susan looking around before glancing at you and then at Josie.

“Josie needs to tell you something” she said, and then you saw your sister-in-law and best friend open her mouth to say something, but the sound of the doorbell interrupted her.

Some women were arriving, Josie's friends from work, other family friends that Mrs. Sim and her mother had made a point of inviting. Everything would be very welcome if it meant getting things from people before her wedding, after all, Josie wouldn't deny any gifts. She also called some friends from college, and for some reason, your mind clicked so far ahead that you only realized what was happening when you saw her walk through the door.

Your stomach did such a somersault that you almost threw up the lunch you'd eaten with Susan before getting things ready for Josie at her mother's house. You thought the last time you'd see Stacy Joseph, the owner of the pink bow bra, would be in that hallway where you threw it at her and nearly broke her nose when you went to make amends. The last contact between the two of you was with Susan standing between you and her after you punched her in the nose, watching her bleed while you told her to swallow that stupid fabric. After that, you never saw her around the college campus, near anyone you knew or, worse, near Jake.

“Y/n, I—”

“Girls!” even her voice made you nauseous, and you wanted to ask yourself over and over again why Jake had chosen Stacy Joseph to be the pivot of the break-up and the reason for the betrayal between the two of you.

You remained silent the whole time she entered the house, left the gift package in the middle of the living room, and walked in the direction the three of you were heading. As a little dejavú, Susan stood next to you, almost between the two of you when Stacy got close enough to greet Josie.

“I'm so happy you're getting married, that's so cool” she hugged Josie so tightly, that you wanted to rip her out of her best friend's arms.

“Thank you for coming” she just replied, letting go of the hug and looking straight at you.

Stacy didn't say your name or Susan's, but the cordiality meant that she just nodded at you both in mute greeting.

“Y/n” Josie called your name, but your head was spinning and you looked like you were going to throw up. Her voice lingered in the back of your mind as you broke away from your friends and ran to Mrs. Sim's kitchen.

This couldn't be happening, not to you. For almost a year you had managed to forget what her face looked like, her voice, and even her presence, focusing your anger only on Jake because he was the only one you were around all the time. Now seeing her in front of you again, being invited to your sister-in-law's pre-wedding party… No, that was too much for you.

“Look Y/n, listen to me” Josie entered the kitchen, followed by Susan who looked at the two of you and then towards the entrance to the room, fearing that Stacy might follow them and, who knows, start an unnecessary argument “I heard she was coming a few hours ago, and it was because of your brother!”

“What do you mean?” you didn't want to look at her now, you didn't want to show how much this affected you. So your gaze went to the counter where your mother had placed drinks to be served when all the women had arrived. You didn't mind opening a bottle with the highest proof, grabbing a glass, and filling it halfway before downing it. “Shit.”

“Y/n” Josie was on the other side of the counter, right in front of you. Susan was next to her, looking at you too. “She started dating Haechan a few months ago, and since Heeseung invited him because he was on the soccer team… He asked if he could invite his girlfriend and—” she took a deep breath, feeling her eyes burn at how shaken you had been. When you filled the glass for the second time, Josie quickly took it and drank, just like you had done a few seconds before, feeling the burning sensation go down your throat. “Haechan didn't say her name or anything, otherwise I would have made an excuse.”

“No” you quickly said. “It's okay, it's just—”

“Besides, Jake didn't even cheat on you, but you don't want to hear that right now” Susan took the glass from Josie's hand, looking in your direction with a raised eyebrow. You felt your whole body ache just thinking about starting that debate again, how tired and upset you were to see your best friends siding with a traitor like Jake. No one had seen what you saw in his locker, so why not believe you?

“We found you three” Mrs. Sim entered the kitchen with an unusual excitement. She smiled at the three of you and didn’t notice the strange atmosphere that was there before she arrived “Have you gone to taste our drinks yet?” she laughed when she saw the glass in Josie’s hand and the open bottle in front of you. Your mother came in right after with one of her arms linked through Jake’s. And that’s when your legs went completely weak.

“What are you doing here, honey? It’s a women-only party” Mrs. Sim said as soon as she saw her son enter the kitchen with your mother. She seemed to be babbling about something he hadn’t even heard yet.

“I came to get my wallet and car keys” Jake said, but his gaze was on you the whole time. You felt that he was, even though you had looked away so as not to look at him at that moment.

“Then you can leave, there will only be women’s talk here” your mother let go of his arm for a second, “Things about panties, drinks, bras, and stuff.”

She and your mother laughed, you saw Josie’s smile slowly appear, as she searched for your gaze.

“About bras? Then Jake can stay” you murmured, “He loves that.”

Oh, no. It had been too long since the two of you had had an argument since the wedding preparations began. You looked up at him, seeing that Jake seemed unreadable with that expression. He had definitely seen Stacy in the living room because your mother was there welcoming people, so he must have seen her. Or worse, he must have heard Haechan talking about her when he arrived for the boys' party that was happening simultaneously at your house at that moment.

“I love bras? Is that what you're saying?” Jake scoffed, the sound making your whole body shiver. Josie and Susan looked at the situation nervously, trying to predict the next moves to try to intervene since your mothers were there. It would be the first argument in front of them.

“Of course” you smiled falsely, “With pink bows and everything.”

The sound around happened naturally, people talking loudly and walking from one side to the other. In the other room, it was easy to hear the laughter of the women who were eager to start the party. Your mother and Jake's mother picked up some bottles, paying attention to the two of you who were standing there staring at each other. While Josie, surreptitiously, walked to her brother's side to try to get him out of there.

“I hate bras” Jake made a small face when his sister approached “You must know that Y/n, because I took yours off every day.”

“Holy shit” Susan almost choked on her own saliva as she held back a laugh, even though the mood wasn't conducive to it. But your face was priceless because no one expected that answer from Jake. Not even you.

“What?” your mother looked at you two, astonished, although she didn’t need to explain to anyone what happened in a relationship. Even more so for as long as it had lasted with you and Jake. You two were adults, above all, and no one would interfere in that.

“Sorry” Jake quickly said, feeling Josie’s hand on his shoulders, gently pushing him out of the kitchen. “Have a good party, girls. See you later!” he felt his cheeks burning, even though he had given you a good answer, it was still in the presence of your mother and his mother, so Jake acted on total impulse.

Of course, he was nervous and scared when he saw Stacy in the living room of his mother’s house. He knew Haechan was dating someone, but no one knew who she was until she showed up. Jake knew he had a lot to tell Heeseung as soon as he got to his house for the boys’ party, but that didn’t stop his mind from wandering to the moment the two of you had in the kitchen. If Jake thought that this marriage would be peaceful, even with the problems, now he had just felt that it wasn't.

Three days until the wedding, where Josie and Heeseung would exchange vows, celebrate, and finally become part of the same family. She was so happy to know that her wishes were coming true, especially with someone like Heeseung. Who had always taken care of her since the first moment they were together. So planning and executing every little thing of that party didn't become a tiring job because, in the end, it made up for the joy of both of them.

And that was why you tried to ignore the discomfort in your chest every time you were around Jake – more than usual – after the meeting between the two of you at his parents' house. A whole week passed after that and you tried not to be around him alone for so long, even though you had to hurry to try on the dresses that your sister-in-law had set aside for the bridesmaid.

Going to the wedding dress store had to be a task done by you and Jake, together. But after that, you wanted to avoid him as much as he was trying to avoid you too. So you left your apartment without waiting for his ride, which was happening in the last few moments of every place you two went together. You went into the store and gave the bride's name, saying that there were some spares for you to try on in the color Josie had designated for you. The saleswoman, smiling and attentive, took you to the changing room so you could try it on and see how it would look on your body.

Being covered in a chic, pink, almost silk dress made you feel beautiful and desired. You knew Josie had that kind of taste. It was easy to trust her taste in clothes, but it wouldn't be an effort to try them on just to make her happy. Maybe you would keep the first one you put on anyway, but since there were five more on the hangers, you would need to put each one on. That way you could tell her why you had chosen one over the other.

“This way, Mr. Jake” the voice of the same saleswoman called down the hallway and you quickly straightened up, adjusting the second dress on your body when you heard footsteps walking in front of your door.

You ran to it and unlocked it, on impulse, just as the saleswoman was opening the door to the dressing room across from yours.

"Y/n? Are you here yet?" Jake was startled when he looked at you, but his eyes softened enough for him to make eye contact for a few seconds. You just nodded, looking away at the saleswoman.

“So you two are Josie and Heeseung’s godparents?” she asked.

“Yes” you and Jake said at the same time, her smile widening.

“Perfect” you said slowly. “Mr. Jake, your suits are in there as requested, and Ms. Y/n, did the dresses look good?”

“I’m still trying on the second one” you opened the door a little wider to show her. It wasn’t the silk of the first dress, but the lace and rhinestone trim gave a perfect glimpse of the curves of your hips. The saleswoman had a fond smile on her face, complimenting how beautiful you looked.

“It really does look beautiful” Jake blurted out, taking you and the saleswoman out of the small conversation you had both been having. Only then did he notice that the three of you were still standing in the hallway and that you were still wearing one of the dresses.

Your voice didn’t come out as a thank you, but you walked back into the dressing room and closed the door behind you before saying anything to him. Leaning your back against the cold wood and trying to normalize your heartbeat. Why did he have to say that as if nothing was happening?

In the time that followed, you tried to focus your attention on the other dresses and how the colors Josie had chosen were flattering to your skin tone and the color of your eyes. You felt more and more beautiful in each piece that slid over your body, the reflection in the mirror pleasing you more and more, making it practically impossible to choose a single piece that you could definitely choose. Going to the last dress, then, you decided to take off the one you were wearing and slide the fabric over your body.

Another silk, this time a little thinner, but not enough to be transparent. This one could have been designed for you because Josie knew you didn't want anything so flashy. You smiled to yourself after putting on the dress, turning your back to do up the zipper that was the only lock on the piece.

“Shit,” you grumbled when you saw it get stuck right at the beginning. “No, no, no…” despair began to take over your body. You couldn’t take off that dress or pull up the zipper and risk ripping something so expensive. Your mind raced to call the saleswoman quickly. She would be the only one who could help you with that zipper and would even be a good company to give advice to others who had doubts.

So yes, that’s what you would do. Holding the front of the dress with the straps hanging loosely on your shoulders, you walked to the door and unlocked it. Only sticking your head out and looking for the saleswoman. Not a soul passed by that hallway and you started to get a little scared because the only sound was footsteps coming from downstairs, where people were walking back and forth through the store.

The only sound that took you away from your thoughts of taking off your dress and giving up on trying it on was the click of the lock on the door in front of you. Jake had messy hair, adjusting his fly and the first four buttons of his white shirt open.

“Y/n?” he called you, finishing closing the zipper and running a hand through his hair to try to fix it a little. “I heard your door opening and I thought you were leaving, but— Are you okay?” he looked at you as soon as he stopped talking.

You stayed quiet for a few seconds, admiring how handsome he looked even in that sloppy and unkempt way. You imagined how clumsy Jake was with formal and elegant clothes, especially since you were the one helping him with the tie knots since you had to learn because of Heeseung and your father.

“I think…” you sighed, not wanting to say it out loud. He almost scolded himself for knowing you so well and knowing that something was wrong, so he walked the few steps from his door to yours, stopping in front of you “I think my dress zipper got stuck.”

“Do you need help?” he asked. You nodded slowly and, without saying anything else, let him enter your dressing room and closed the door right after.

Jake could see how organized you were even with a larger amount of dresses than he had to try on pants and shirts. Everything was perfectly folded, some even already hanging on the hangers while the pants he tried on were on the floor and only the blazers were on the hanger because he couldn’t find a single one that he thought looked nice on him.

“Okay, what do I need to do?” he turned towards you, noticing the way you were holding the front of your dress for dear life.

“Can you try to pull up the zipper? Otherwise, we can call the saleswoman” you turned your back to him and Jake had to hold his breath a little. The amount of skin was too much for him to see, even though it wasn't an unfamiliar sight for him. But after so long having this kind of contact was something Jake wasn't expecting.

“Okay, okay,” he said more to himself, walking towards you when you threw all your hair to the side, leaving your back completely bare to him.

Jake’s fingers trembled uselessly when the tip of his index finger and thumb touched the zipper. Nothing more than that, because he didn’t want to cross any boundaries.

“It’s not going to happen,” he said after forcing it a little, the zipper not moving.

“Try again, please” you asked. “This dress is perfect and I think your sister chose it because maybe it suits me better than the others.”

He didn’t want to admit that yes, that dress was perfect on you. Even if you weren’t dressed properly and you still had to close the zipper to see the final result, Jake didn’t need that to compliment you or find you beautiful in any outfit. Taking another step forward, Jake thought he could dare and listen to his instincts, or he simply wouldn’t have a chance of doing that anymore. So he muted any other voice in his head and listened only to what his heart was telling him to do. With his free hand, Jake grabbed your waist under the thin fabric of your dress. He had touched your skin before under some silk that you had worn during the years of your relationship, but nothing compared to the dress you were wearing now.

You tried to hold back any sound that might come out of your mouth as his hand slowly squeezed your hip, while the other tried to pull up the zipper of your dress. Jake seemed focused on that action that bent over enough for his breath to hit the back of your neck. His eyes traveled up the length of your back and saw your skin crawl with that simple gesture.

So he still had some effect on you.

It was too much information for him to process. Jake affects your body, the closeness of the two of you, and the even heavier atmosphere between you after Stacy's arrival. It was too much for him to process. Jake could never do anything rational under pressure, so he knew it would have a drastic consequence, he wouldn't stop trying.

Turning your body and pressing it against his chest, you didn't have a chance to swear at him. There was not even time to speak a single syllable when Jake's lips quickly sought yours. It was like an act of returning home, where he already knew the way and only needed those few seconds to have his lips on yours.

If Jake was being irrational about the whole thing, you weren't going to be the only thinking person or get in the way of what was happening. Part of you wanted it, although the other part of you disagreed with having the tip of Jake's tongue poking at your lower lip. With a low moan, you gave way and that was all he needed. To tangle his tongue in yours, to taste you in his mouth again while his hands ran down your hips and gripped your body as if his life depended on it.

Maybe it did because to go a whole time like that without feeling his lips, without sliding your teeth across his bottom lip or having your hands wrapped in his hair. Your body pressed against his while you moaned low against his mouth every time the kiss intensified. Jake missed that as much as you did. And seeing how intensely you were giving yourself to him was more than an answer to what he needed.

Walking towards the nearest table, careful not to ruin his clothes on the way, Jake leaned you against the wood without interrupting the kiss in the process. He didn't want to pull his mouth away from yours and even though you both needed air, he wanted to be able to breathe the air from your mouth if at all possible. His hands, still on your waist, slid all over your back, still uncovered by the fabric that wouldn't close at all. Thanks for the stuck zipper, he thought, running his hand up your spine until he tangled the fabric of the dress between his fingers.

Jake's mouth parted from yours just then, his forehead still pressed against yours and his eyes slowly opening to search for yours. A silent request as to whether he could go on with it or whether you were sorry and wanted him to leave the room.

Your hands found his and as if to help him, you pulled the loose fabric down your body, revealing your chest as all the silk bunched around your hips. His eyes shone brightly. Jake could tell it had all been worth it just from that sight. Your hands found his hair and he slid his lips down your neck as you spread your legs, beckoning him to snuggle in.

Jake ran his hands up the sides of your body, his thumbs finding your erect nipples and putting a fair amount of pressure there, just as his lips found your earlobe.

“Jake” you moaned his name, and that sound he missed so much. How slyly you used to moan his name.

“Yeah, baby?” he whispered against your skin, his hands gripping your breast a little more firmly before he released his lips from your neck and moved down to your collarbone.

Your voice gradually died away as Jake's mouth descended your skin in slow, wet kisses, his tongue tracing a teasing path down the middle of your breast. His breathing made a point of getting heavy with every line of saliva he left against your skin, the heat building there and intensifying between your legs.

“Fuck” you moaned as his tongue flicked across your nipple, the tip circling a few times before he took it all in his mouth. Sucking and making it even more sensitive with every warm touch of his tongue and the light scrape of his teeth on it. Jake's attention took turns on each of your breasts, leaving enough of a mark for you to remember him when you got dressed for the wedding a few days later. Or when you came home to take a shower, looking at your chest and the amount of hickeys he was leaving.

You arched your back and, with some difficulty, pulled the rest of your dress down to your feet to get rid of the fabric that was now bothering you so much. The amount of clothing was unbearable for you as Jake settled further between your legs, still sucking on your nipples.

“Jake, please” you practically begged him as he looked more and more hungry with his mouth on your nipple. Circling his tongue and letting go with a low, teasing pop, raising his face to meet yours.

“Do you want it as much as I do?” he asked, his voice hoarse and low, his lips red and shiny from the amount of saliva that had been smeared across your breast.

“I want it, very much” if he kept teasing you, you'd be pathetic enough to cry out for him and ask him to fuck you right there.

Fortunately Jake understood you so well and you knew he couldn't stand teasing you for so long, even more so with the hunger and thirst he'd been teasing and kissing you with minutes ago. He didn't want to waste any time, lifting his shirt over his head without bothering to remove the buttons, the zipper of his pants came down in seconds and he quickly removed the fabric along with his underwear. Jake didn't want to wait any longer.

He went back between your legs, sliding his hands up and down your thighs. Caressing the soft skin he had felt for so long. Nostalgia washed over him with every touch, going down to your hips to grab the fabric of your panties, throwing them on the floor as quickly as he did his clothes.

“Y/n, we—” you kissed his lips, not letting him finish saying anything. You knew Jake would explain himself, say something to try and comfort you from what you'd felt for so long. But the heat of the moment demanded that he just be inside you. And that's what you did. Holding his cock and pumping slowly, you heard Jake moan against your lips, his brow furrowed as you rubbed the head of his cock against your pussy lips to gather the perfect amount of your juices.

Jake arched his hips against your hand, feeling his cock get wet with the union of your arousal and his pre-cum, without having to worry about preparing you or anything. It was also because of the rush you were both in to feel each other, but he wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you, and the way you were calmly taking it all in was driving Jake crazy.

“I don't want to hurt you” he whispered when you stopped teasing him and stopped rubbing the head of his cock all over your pussy. Jake's cock was already wet enough and you were already more than lubricated, he wasn't going to hurt you.

“You won't hurt me, I promise” you whispered with your lips close to his, without kissing him, waiting for Jake to take the next step between the two of you.

As if it were a communication just by looking, as soon as Jake leaned his forehead against yours, he understood that it had to be done. So you thrust your hips slowly, feeling your entrance suck the head of his cock. Just the tip penetrating you was enough to make you moan, pressing your lips against Jake's and bending your body over the table. He wrapped his arms around you, gripping your body between his arms, afraid that you would run away at that moment. Afraid that everything you were both experiencing would be thrown away and that maybe it was Jake's dream, where he dozed off in the fitting room opposite yours, idealizing what was happening.

But no, it was all real. He was slowly penetrating you, gripping your body between his arms and feeling your arms around his neck, as if you needed to steady yourself just by hugging him.

Reaching the bottom, with his cock completely inside you, Jake didn't let go of your embrace. He moved his hips slowly, withdrawing his cock and leaving just the tip inside you, only to return slowly and intensely until his cock was inside your pussy. The movement of your hips became constant, and the sound of the moans that the two of you shared in whispers gave the moment even more intensity. Jake was careful not to go too fast and hard because the way you squeezed his cock showed how sensitive your pussy was to receiving him back.

“You don't know…” Jake sucked a moan from your mouth, pressing his forehead to yours when a particularly intense movement hit you, making the head of his cock touch your spongy spot and your walls tighten around it. Jake could have sworn he was going to come right then and there, but he had to stop himself, he didn't want to finish yet “You don't know how much I've missed this… How much I've missed you.”

Your fingernails scratched Jake's shoulder blades, making the thrust forceful as his skin burned a little. You bit his lower lip, stopping yourself from moaning loudly so that the whole store could hear the two of you. Your legs wrapped even tighter around Jake's moving hips, giving him no room to pull away for even a second.

“I've missed you, Jake” your hips were now moving along with his, but slowly, while Jake was intensifying his thrusts, wanting you to feel every moment of his cock moving in and out of you. Withdrawing his cock slowly and putting it back in just as slowly, going hard only at the end so that the head of his cock touched your cervix or you felt every rise in your walls with his size “I've missed you so much.”

Jake could cum with the intensity of your gaze, your fucked-up expression, and how you moaned his name as you said those things. He knew that anything you did while he had his cock buried in you was a reason for him to come, and he didn't want to hold back any longer.

With a silent request, Jake kissed your lips and moved his hands down between your bodies in the small space you left between the two of you. His fingers soon found your clitoris and he circled it at the same speed as his cock moved in and out of you.

You could see stars with the double sensation, your body writhing between Jake's arms as his thrusts began to pick up speed. He was close to cumming and you weren't much different, you knew him well enough for that. You both knew each other's bodies that well.

“I need you to cum with me, please” Jake asked against your lips, his cock driving in a little harder, along with his fingers circling your clit a little faster.

Without the strength to say anything, you just agreed and continued to move your hips so that you were in sync with Jake and what he was doing. Your hands grabbed his hair, keeping Jake's mouth close enough to yours and catching his tongue between your lips. Sucking on his tongue with the same intensity as your pussy swallowed his cock was divine, Jake was losing count of how many times he came with this sensation. Being swallowed by your pussy and your mouth sucking his tongue just like you used to suck his cock.

He could hear you moaning his name in a muffled way, your lips around the tip of his tongue and your pussy swallowing more and more of him. A precise circle on your clit along with his cock moving in and out was enough to make the knot in your stomach burst. Your pussy convulsed, and your walls fluttered around his entire length, cumming all over Jake's cock. The heat of your pussy, the oozing of your cum, and the way you moaned his name over and over were too much for him to bear, and not a second later Jake's jets of hot, thick cum spurted into your pussy.

His thrusts became more and more erratic and sloppy as he still came inside your completely fucked pussy, pushing his cum that threatened to fall out of your hole by the amount he had cum in so long. You were still sensitive and the overstimulation wasn't bad, although you felt like crying at the way Jake still kept his cock in you, moving in and out until your pussy milked the last drop out of him.

Jake rested his hands on either side of your body, next to your hips on the table. With his cock still inside you and his body still between your legs. He opened his eyes slowly to find your face calm and serene, your expression a little more relaxed than before.

“Jake…” you whispered, not wanting him to pull away from you.

“Yes?” he said in the same tone, one of his hands coming up to push your hair out of your face. He shifted his gaze down your body, the sheen of the light layer of sweat forming against your skin, your hips still joined without the strength to separate. The skin of his chest covered by the marks of his mouth made him smile with satisfaction at his work.

“Can we stay like this for a few minutes?” your request made his heart race, even though it had been racing since the first second you two kissed in that fitting room.

“As long as you want” he moved a little closer, giving you a small kiss on the forehead before placing his forehead against yours. Not wanting to leave your side even after the post-orgasm sensation had passed.

The rest of the days passed like a blur, and not because you or Jake were avoiding each other after what happened. But because time got too short it seemed like more things were happening until the big day. You and he didn't seem to mind each other's presence while you had to sort things out, the tiredness of the final preparations giving way to each other's bodies while all you could think about was getting it over with.

You could breathe a sigh of relief after walking in with Jake at Josie and Heeseung's wedding, listening to the whole ceremony in silence and admiration. Smiling at the vows of the two newlyweds and holding back the tears that threatened to fall. Finally, it was over and you could proudly say that you had been a great godmother. That your brother and sister-in-law had been right to appoint you and Jake to that role.

Now, enjoying the post-wedding party was the only thing on your mind. The glass was freshly filled with booze for the fourth time, the empty hand resting on Susan's shoulder as she hugged Josie's waist, humming the song that was playing throughout the huge hall. This is what you three thought it would be like. Drunk, happy, and laughing as you remember how you met. The time you shared and how much your friendship meant to each other.

“Even though Y/n is my sister-in-law now” Josie swallowed a drunken sob, smiling as she pulled you into a hug with Susan “you two will always be my heart sisters.”

“Is that supposed to make us sentimental?” Susan asked.

“Is it working?” Josie retorted.

It might work because you all already had a fair amount of alcohol in your system, considering how long you'd been here after the ceremony. You still spent time with Heeseung, congratulating your brother and warning him to take good care of Josie. Although he was your brother, your brotherhood with her was strong enough for you to take her away from their house, which hadn't even been furnished yet. With Susan's help, the two of you would take Josie away without a second thought in case Heeseung did something to her. Even though you knew it would never happen.

After a few minutes of exchanging warm, sentimental words, laughing until your belly ached, and refilling your glasses, the three of you broke away from the hugs to go around the party in search of something different for the next few minutes before meeting up again. Josie would go after Heeseung or your mother because she wanted to talk to her new daughter-in-law. Susan would go after Sunghoon, for sure. She missed her boyfriend, who would probably be hanging around the party clutching Heeseung's tie and collecting funny nicknames for the newlywed. Your mind immediately wandered to Jake, thinking that you could go after him and just talk about what happened, maybe. But your feet were killing you enough that you didn't even consider the idea of going out, so you walked over to the nearest table to sit down.

“Can I join you?” your gaze lifted to the person in front of you, smiling when you noticed Haechan's presence.

“Sure, join me” he smiled back at you, taking off his blazer and putting it on the back of his chair before sitting down. You could tell by the lazy sound that came from his lips how exhausted he looked.

“Getting around with your brother and Sunghoon wasn't an easy task” he grumbled, his fingers lightly massaging his left temple as he looked around. Looking for one of his friends or even his girlfriend.

“Are they giving you much trouble?” you asked.

“Enough that Sunghoon and Jake made him almost undress three times” Haechan said, making you laugh.

“Hey, I didn't do anything like that!” the defense in Jake's voice took you by surprise, and both you and Haechan looked in the direction of the slowly approaching voice. At the beginning of the party, Jake looked impeccable. His hair, which he had let grow – because Josie had asked him to, wanting his brother to have an impeccable hairstyle for her wedding – had been slicked back with a little gel, and was now disheveled and messy. The first two buttons of his shirt were open and Jake's tie was completely loosened, but still around his neck. The typical scene of how relaxed he was, but not to the point of getting drunk like you were starting to.

“You'll have to fight with your sister if her husband gets naked in front of everyone” Haechan defended, having his train of thought interrupted by him making Jake laugh. The sound of laughter calmed every cell in your body.

You noticed that he was a little more relaxed, smiling at some of the things Haechan said to him while you switched off a little. Your focus was now on the heel you were trying to take off and how much your feet might scream if they could talk. Without much delay, you unbuckled your heels and took them off, leaving them in a corner under your chair.

“But seriously, this wedding is just the way you two wanted it, isn't it?” your attention returned to the two boys talking right in front of you. Jake slyly pulled out a chair to sit next to you and his gaze ran down to where you were futilely trying to massage your feet.

“In every detail” he smiled at Haechan “Heeseung tries to deny that it was all my sister's doing, but we know he wanted it that way too” seeing how much Jake knew your brother was very gratifying, to know that someone understood him as much as you did.

At some point in the conversation, you found yourself looking between the two of them as they talked about how nice it was to be friends with Heeseung. At the time in college when Haechan wanted to join the soccer team and almost didn't get accepted because he had missed the time to introduce himself to the boys. Jake had his full attention on him, listening to every word while his hands thought differently, running down your calf until they caught your ankle. Without saying a word to you and without looking in your direction, he picked up your foot and placed it on his lap. The fingers lightly squeezing the sole of your foot almost made you moan at how good it felt, how much you needed that silent massage from Jake.

“One relationship I also admire is the two of you” Haechan pointed at you and Jake. Your eyes quickly met his for a split second, Jake's fingers stopped just as Haechan smiled, and then he went back to massaging your feet.

“Why?” Jake asked for you, knowing that his concentration was on the pain that was leaving, and how his body was slightly tense from the question.

“Because even after you broke up, you two carried on as friends” Haechan sounded dreamy as he said that little bit of admiration, even if it wasn't true. That the image you and Jake passed on to your friends was false, because you and he weren't friends, you never were. The war footing you two were on was hell on earth and neither of you knew how you were surviving until the present moment “I don't know if I'd be able to be friends with Stacy if the two of us broke up.”

There was a brief pause when Haechan spotted one of his friends with two glasses in his hand. He asked for one, even though the guy wasn't a waiter, but he smiled and handed it to him, asking if you and Jake wanted one too. Denying it and thanking you both, Jake smiled at him and let Haechan take a good sip of his drink.

“How long have you and Stacy been together?” Jake asked, not knowing the origin or the reason for all this. Maybe it was to get away from the attention his friend had given to your relationship, but he just wanted to deflect it and do everything he could to keep you away from him.

“Since college” he replied, taking another sip of his drink “our relationship is a little crazy.”

Jake knew you were looking at him at that moment, he could feel the weight of your gaze almost smoking on the back of his neck while his gaze was on Haechan.

“Tell me about it, I never knew” Jake prodded.

You didn't know why he was doing it. Whether it was to torture you for talking about Stacy so freely in front of him or whether he wanted to talk to Haechan, who barely knew that you had almost broken his girlfriend's nose in college.

“Well, we started going out after a fraternity party, it wasn't anything serious at first” he shrugged, the unfinished drink in his glass now playing between his fingers and a small smile on his lips.

Haechan talked about his and Stacy's relationship carefully, as if the image she had made of herself to him was a version you had never met. But then your ears perked up a little more when he got to a particular moment in the story.

“Dude, I… Y/n, do you mind if I say that?” Haechan looked at you, noticing that the story was taking a turn that only boys could be interested in.

“Not at all” you tried to smile at him, almost grimacing at the way it had come out “I'm just focusing on my massage” you pointed downwards where Jake's hands were still occasionally squeezing your feet. He laughed and continued, looking at Jake this time.

“I went crazy when we started dating because Oliver talked about Stacy's fame and for the first few weeks I wanted to prove whether it was true or not.”

Stacy's fame in college was her cute lingerie, the famous – and hated by you – pink bow bra. It wasn't necessarily fame because she made a point of showing part of her bra with a tank top during training and it had even been proven by those who slept with her. It wouldn't be a fame if they already had proof.

“When I saw it, I made a point of… spicing up our relationship at the beginning, to prove that she wanted it and that it wasn't the same with everyone.”

“And how did you get her to prove it?” Jake asked Haechan.

“Oh, you know” he leaned back in his chair, stretching as much as he could and almost yawning, but he wasn't sleepy enough for that “I asked her to leave a bra in my closet on the day of the game.”

Jake was the first to make eye contact with you as if he'd expected that answer or any reaction to it. Your eyes sought his and, a few seconds later, you looked at Haechan.

“What day was that?” you asked “I mean… what game?”

“The last friendly we had against the University of the South” he looked nostalgic as he recalled one of the last games he'd played in a university shirt “I told her to leave it in my locker and then we'd celebrate under the shower, you know.”

You didn't know what it was like because you were disgusted to do anything in the university's men's locker room, but that didn't stop you from finding Jake and going home with him to celebrate. That's how you ended up in the locker room on that fateful day.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Haechan asked after a while. He was still talking to Jake about something you didn't even know you wanted to hear right now, your mind was racing. If Stacy had done that in Jake's locker, what story had she told Haechan to make him think he was the only one who had received a pink bow bra in his locker?

“Excuse me” you asked, taking your feet off Jake's lap so quickly that he didn't even have time to hold you or ask where you were going.

A lot of questions were running through your mind at that moment, for example, how Stacy was managing to cope with a lie that she maintained even after the encounter you two had? Even after you hit her and cursed at her even though she was dating Haechan after everything. While you maintained that Jake was the liar in all this, the big liar was there all along.

You didn't know what you were doing, but the next thing you knew, your feet were leading you in the direction where Stacy was. Near the bar and away from the many people at the party, she was chatting with Susan and Sunghoon as if she had been friends with them for years. Although you knew that your friend and her boyfriend were very polite, you didn't like the closeness she was trying to force.

“Hey, Y/n” Sunghoon was the first to see you coming, his smile showing the fangs that you heard Susan sigh almost all the time. He waved at you without a response, only to see you advance towards Stacy as soon as you got close enough.

“You slut!” your hands grabbed the fabric of her dress, almost tearing it with how hard you were squeezing.

“Let me go, you're hurting me” she whimpered, feeling your nails dig a little deeper into her skin as you gripped her dress even tighter.

“So you've been lying all this time, have you?” you pushed her away when you felt Susan's hands pulling at you, wanting to push you away from Stacy, but unable to put that much force into your actions. She was drunk enough not to be able to separate you as she normally did. Then she looked in Sunghoon's direction, searching for some kind of help.

“Lied about what?” she asked.

“Don’t play dumb!” you yelled, but your voice couldn’t be heard the way you wanted to by the people around you, only Stacy and Susan were able to hear how loud you were talking because of how close you were. “That day at the game, Jake’s locker. Tell the truth, you slut—”

Sometimes you had the slight impression that your brother arrived at the worst times, like in a suspenseful scene from your favorite series, or when you and your mother wanted to listen to the neighbors’ fights and Heeseung slammed the door right when one of them told you something very important. And like now, when you were about to live the nostalgic moment of punching Stacy right in the nose, but your brother’s hands were quick enough to grab you and pull you away from her.

“What’s going on?” he asked, standing between the two of you and facing you “Hey, sis, look at me.”

“Let me go or I’ll finish her off.”

“You’re not going anywhere” Heeseung said. His eyes searched for something behind you and when he found it, you didn’t even need to turn around to know that Sunghoon had gone after Jake and Josie.

“What’s going on here? Are you okay?” Josie asked as she looked at Heeseung and you, but when her eyes landed on Stacy, some of her sobriety returned. She knew that this could happen at the party and was already preparing for some argument between the two of you, she just didn’t know it would be practically halfway through the night.

“I… I was at the bar talking to Susan and Sunghoon when Y/n arrived and—”

“Oh, for God's sake, stop your shitty little act” you snapped, almost advancing on her if it weren’t for Heeseung’s strength still holding you in place. Your brother didn’t move an inch until Jake took his place, standing in front of you and holding you. On another occasion, you would be cursing him and not wanting Jake to touch you, but seeing him there at that moment seemed to make all the difference.

“Stacy, love, what’s going on here?” when she heard Haechan’s voice, Stacy seemed to freeze in place. She looked at him with wide eyes and rapid breathing, perhaps even more than before when the two of you almost argued.

She found herself between a rock and a hard place now, maintaining that lie was no longer hers and she knew that sooner or later it should have been said. Stacy just didn’t know why it had taken so long.

“I… I think I did something wrong and…” you couldn’t swallow her fake crying and the sobs that threatened to come out of the girl’s lips who, with the help of her boyfriend, took a step forward to tell the whole story to your friends.

Hearing all of that from the point of view of the one who had caused you the most pain only made your blood boil even more. You – and the entire campus – knew how much Stacy always bragged about getting with every guy she wanted, with only Heeseung and Sunghoon being the only ones under the radar, she wanted to be content with that. But when she found out that Jake, besides being on the soccer team, was coveted for dating the team captain's sister… Oh, she wanted him. It was impossible to get him, but she would do anything to try anything and get with Jake at least one thing. It was then that she had the brilliant idea of ​​replicating Haechan's wish.

The friendly match against the southern university was packed, with everyone on campus stopping to watch the match and cheer for the team. You and your friends weren't much different, wanting to see the boys and supporting them at all costs. Unfortunately, Stacy heard how lovingly you told Jake that you would wait for him after the game in the locker room to get his things and go home.

“Can you get my shirt from my locker? I left it open, you can wear it, it's for good luck in my game today. Then I want to take you out of here” his locker would be open, and fitting like a glove, Haechan's idea could serve Jake at that moment. Stacy would put her bra in his locker, let you think whatever you wanted and then she would go on with her life as if nothing had happened. She did that and took off the bra she was wearing to put in Haechan's locker, so she wouldn't waste time because she didn't know if you would throw the fabric away or if you would confront her. She found herself in the unfortunate decision of having the latter option two days later.

“You already got revenge on me for that day and I apologize to you.” Stacy felt her eyes burning, she was embarrassed for being caught and confronted at a wedding party she didn’t even know why she had gone to. She thought that not telling him she was Haechan’s girlfriend would be the best choice to see the faces of familiar people once again since no one had kept in touch with her besides her boyfriend.

“Did you get revenge on her? What did you do?” Jake looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, doubt in his expression, and his lips in a cute pout. If it weren’t for the current situation, you would have kissed him for sure.

“I didn’t do anything” you said softly, just so he could hear. But Stacy didn’t listen, so she kept talking.

“She hit me in the hallway of the north block a few days later” she sighed “Almost broke my nose.”

“What?” Sunghoon shouted in surprise “So our last fraternity party… The injury on your nose…”

“It wasn’t a cheerleader stunt” she continued.

A short silence fell between you all, only the music of the party and Stacy’s small sobs could be heard. You could notice how much Josie was trying to calm the situation and disperse the people so that everyone could enjoy the rest of the party.

Your gaze went up to Jake’s face and he was expressionless now. The astonishment that had taken over had given way to a neutral look, but it contained something that you couldn’t identify. Remorse? Fear? Anger?

“Jake…” you called him without knowing why you were doing that. He was still looking at you with the same expression, not even softening at the sound of your voice.

“Can we talk later?” he asked, his tone serious, but somehow trying to sound a little calm for your liking “I’ll take you home and then we can talk, okay?”

There was no way you could insist or say no, just accept it because you didn't even know why you wanted to talk to him at that moment. Everything had hit you like a blow, and just like you, Jake might need some time to cool down and talk to you at the end of the party.

Waving slowly, you watched him walk away as Haechan pulled Stacy away and the others walked through the party until it was just you and him left there. Or just you, as soon as Jake walked away and walked to the bar to get something to drink. So, you allowed yourself to release all the air you were holding, refusing to cry after reality hit your mind and heart.

You believed a lie for all that time. And there was no going back now.

Jake tried to loosen his grip on the steering wheel, but his firm grip on the leather showed how nervous he still was. Spending the rest of the party brooding over everything that had happened, in addition to seeing how shaken you were by it all, made him feel even worse. He thought he would be fine after you heard that he had never cheated on you, that you had believed a lie… But he didn't feel good. Jake seemed to feel even worse after seeing how bad you were.

That was why, when he guided you to the car to take you home after the party was over, he preferred to stay quiet and let you be quiet too. The whole drive was in complete silence, with the only sounds being the car engine and the city's movements in the early morning. Occasionally Jake would look in your direction to see if you had fallen asleep or if you were okay, checking on you or waiting for you to look at him too. The only time your eyes met his was when you pulled up to your apartment, Jake turning off the car engine as soon as he parked in the parking lot of your building.

He didn't have to ask if you wanted him to come with you, because you got out first and left the keys with him, as a silent request that he could go up with you. And Jake did just that. From the hallways of the building to the elevator, going to your floor in the most absolute silence. Maybe even more than when the two of you were inside the car.

He turned the keys when you both reached your door, letting you enter first and leading the way in the small darkness that formed inside your apartment. After locking the door, Jake took off his shoes and threw his blazer next to the hanger by the door to make himself a little more comfortable as he followed you to the kitchen still without saying a word.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Jake asked for the first time since the two of you left the party after the wedding. Your eyes followed his figure who was standing in the doorway, leaning one shoulder against the wood as he looked in your direction.

“I think…” you sighed, looking around after Jake held your gaze. Feeling a little shy from the intensity with which he was looking at you “I’ll make some coffee and…”

“I’ll make the coffee” Jake interrupted you slowly “Go upstairs and put on something more comfortable” he tried to sound a little softer with you, but there was still a hint of seriousness in his voice that you recognized. A palpable tension that he finally had the whole truth exposed, he just didn’t know how to act after all.

You wouldn't deny it, especially since your feet were almost killing you from the pain from the moment you took off your heels in the middle of the party. You definitely wanted to take off that silk from your clothes, even though they were so comfortable that you danced all night without worrying. But at that moment, your body just needed other fabrics. So you quickly went to your room, passing by Jake without looking at him because you knew that if that happened, there would be no way to go back or simply remember to change your clothes.

As soon as you got to your room, the first thing you did was slide the dress down your body and leave it lying anywhere on the floor. The air blowing against your almost naked skin was a soothing balm for everything you had witnessed in the last few hours. When you got to the bathroom, looking at your appearance in the mirror, Jake's idea of ​​taking a shower didn't seem so bad after all. Turning on the shower and letting the water run wasn't a thought you were reluctant to do, it had to be done. Getting all the dirt, sweat, and exhaustion off your body, both for the fun and for the mix of sensations and how sore and tired you felt. The pain in your feet went away as you squeezed them – not as gently as Jake did – with the help of the soap and hot water. Everything goes down the drain minutes later: dirt, tiredness, and a bit of sadness.

Quickly drying yourself, you grabbed a pair of old sweatpants that belonged to Heeseung and that you never let him take possession of. They belonged to you since the day you put them on by mistake at your parent's house when you and he still lived there since then those pants became yours and no one would say otherwise. For the top, the only comfortable thing you could wear was a sports bra. Without the clinging fabric of a t-shirt on your torso, you wanted something breathable and that would make you feel freer, this was perfect.

“Time to take off my makeup” you muttered to yourself after you had finished changing properly, looking in the mirror to find your mascara slightly smudged and the red lipstick already coming off your lips. You remembered the tireless hours you spent with Josie and Susan at the beauty salon that same day, in the early hours of the morning. Not even thinking that you would have to take it off at the end of it all, ending up with a beautiful job, even though you felt like you couldn’t keep your makeup on for so long.

Taking the cotton and the makeup remover, you moistened the cute object to wipe your face and, before doing so, looked at your reflection once more. Something in your mind made you think of everything besides the time you had taken to put on your makeup and get ready for the wedding. That had been the makeup for your brother and sister-in-law’s most important day, but it was also with that makeup that you faced the biggest event of your life. With that mascara on your eyes, you were able to witness the lies that Stacy had told you for so long. It was with that lipstick on your lips that you cursed her, and with all that makeup on you stared at people and saw Jake's gaze on you all night. Without being able to decipher, what he was feeling.

Everything, at that moment, was a shock and you only realized that you were crying and looking at your reflection when your vision blurred and you heard Jake calling you in the background. His hurried steps through the room before Jake's figure stopped right at the bathroom door.

“Is everything okay? Are you hurt?” the desperation in your tone, the look in Jake’s eyes as he turned you around, making you face him. This made you cry even more. Your mouth opened and closed to say something, but nothing came out, just silent sobs as you let the tears fall freely down your cheeks. “Hey… What happened?” he asked again.

“I just—” you sobbed again “I ruined everything.”

Jake’s hands found their way to your waist in a matter of seconds, bringing your body close to his in just enough space for him to tilt his face and be close to yours. Without saying a single word, he looked deep into your eyes, letting you shed as many tears as you thought necessary. His fingers held tightly to your skin and, with a small push, he picked you up and placed you sitting on the bathroom counter.

“Ruined what, exactly?” he asked, taking the cotton from your hand. Jake wet the makeup remover again and straightened up between your legs to take off your makeup for you. A few days ago, this position between the two of you yielded something beyond what was happening, and butterflies in your stomach hit you at the thought of it. But there he was, with the utmost sweetness and affection, carefully passing the cotton pad over the entire length of your face. Completely the opposite of what he had done to you last time.

“Us” you answered when Jake passed the cotton pad over one of your eyes, forcing you to close it so he could remove the mascara. You heard him sigh right in front of you, the air blowing against your face due to Jake’s proximity to you.

The silence that settled between you was strangely comfortable. Now and then your sobs could still be heard as you tried to normalize your breathing and stop crying. Jake was completely focused on wetting the cotton pads, removing your makeup, and making sure you were clean and comfortable enough. Once everything was over and he threw the rest of the things in the trash, he remained with his body still between your legs.

“You didn’t ruin us” he finally replied, his hands resting on your thighs instead of touching the marble of the bathroom sink. Jake’s fingers, although blocked by the sweatpants you were wearing, were a warm and comfortable touch. Something you missed and only realized the last time the two of you had a little more contact.

“Of course” your eyes burned again and your vision became blurry again. Jake’s figure in front of you was like a blur when you felt like you were going to cry again. “I spent all this time thinking that you—”

He knew what you would say, but he didn’t want to hear it out loud. It was a past completely behind him, one that Jake didn’t want to dig up and much less make you remember. So the only way for it to end was when he touched your lips with his. A soft kiss, placing his mouth on yours and slowly sliding the tip of his tongue along your lower lip. It didn't take long for your passage to be accepted, letting him guide the kiss while one of his hands came up to hold your face. He held you in his hands with such care, kissing you and making you feel every little touch.

That should have calmed you down, but it made you shed the tears that still insisted on appearing. Jake felt each one of them between the kiss you shared, each time softer and slower, the movement of your tongues in sync as he let you feel each small slide of his mouth against yours. When you both needed to compose yourself, Jake pulled his lips away from yours enough so that you could both breathe. Still keeping your mouths closed and the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

“You know what?” Jake said, still breathless and a little hoarse. You just murmured in agreement, letting him continue his train of thought “When we started dating, one of the first things Heeseung told me was that you were the most stubborn person I would ever meet in my life.”

“Really?” you opened your eyes in shock, staring at Jake who was still between your legs. His lips reddened and smiling at you.

“Really” he kissed your lips once more, his hand still on your face caressing your cheek and sliding his thumb to your lower lip “What happened in that locker room was shitty and I don’t blame you for feeling that way. I just…” he took a deep breath, his hands finding their place back on your waist. “I needed time until I made you listen to me. I would never rest until I knew I would never do that to you.”

It was your turn to pull Jake into a soft kiss, just to feel his mouth against yours again. The slow, calm slide of his mouth against yours before you pulled away.

“Do you forgive me for being so stubborn? For wasting our time?”

“I have nothing to forgive you for, baby” Jake took a few steps back, his mischievous smile making your heart race a little faster than usual. “By the way, I have something for you.”

“For me? What is it?” you asked.

“I’ll be right back” Without giving you a chance to answer, Jake ran out of the bathroom, leaving you still sitting on the sink counter. You decided to go downstairs and walk to your room, trying to think of what he could have for you. It couldn’t be coffee, because the cup he brought was resting on the nightstand on your side of the bed. Running to the bathroom while you were crying made him completely forget about the drink there, maybe it had even gone cold. You didn’t care, after all.

Jake’s footsteps were heard on the other side of the door and, before you could walk a little further and open it, he did it himself. One hand was hidden behind his back as he entered your room.

“What’s all this suspense, Jake Sim?” you raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical about all the mystery surrounding the two of you. Jake chuckled softly, walking slowly but nervously towards you until he stopped right in front of you.

“I bought this because I knew I could give it to you one day” he said softly, not quite a whisper, but his tone was still soft. Jake’s eyes were focused on every corner of your face, wanting to convey a little of everything the two of you had shared so far. Or at least try to understand a little of the emotion he felt after everything that had happened.

He pulled away until he showed you what he was holding and, as soon as you saw the only orchid he had between his fingers, you almost cried for the third time that night.

“Jake…”

“It was the flower of our relationship, I—” he held it out to you, letting you take it and smell it as you always did with every orchid he gave you over the years. The characteristic smile that showed you were truly surprised, but without a single word to express what you were feeling. While your free hand went to his face and caressed Jake's cheek, the skin against your fingers so soft “I bought it the day we went to see things for my sister. I thought I could give it to you at some point.”

“Did you think it would be soon?” you asked.

Jake took a step forward, getting close enough to be able to hug your body with his.

“I didn't think so, but I hoped it would be. I couldn't stand being away from you anymore with all these wrong and poorly explained things” he huffed, his forehead pressed against yours when Jake's head leaned forward to get even closer to your face. You allowed yourself to laugh for the first time since you had arrived home, holding the flower tightly in one hand, while the other still held Jake's face.

“So go take a shower, take off those wedding clothes, and stay with me in bed all night.”

“Just tonight?” Jake asked, pouting. Which didn't last long because you broke it with a quick kiss.

“As long as you want…”

“I think my whole life is perfect for me” he shrugged, kissing you once more before pulling away and quickly taking off his white shirt. Both because of the shower he was looking forward to taking and because of the lack of contact with you.

Jake wanted to make up for lost time and everything you two didn't experience because of the lies that surrounded you, him, and your relationship. A silent promise that, even if you were stubborn, you would never stop believing in him again.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

BED CHEM

amidst trying to keep your gpa up and not get kicked off the cheer team, you take your friend’s advice and ask jake sim, one of the smartest students in your campus, to tutor you. you see him as a snarky know-it-all who’s obsessed with correcting your every mistake, and he sees you as a dumb cheerleader with a rep for breaking hearts. but as things unfold, you discover you both have something to learn from each other, and it’s a lot more than just algebra.

pairing) nerd!jake x cheerleader!reader

genre) smut/pwp, enemies to lovers, college au, fluff, angst

contents) f!reader, popular!jake/reader, jake's a smart a.ss [& a jerk at first but let him cook], basketball player!heeseung/jay, temporary reader x hee, exes, misunderstood reader, brief conversation about throwing up, eventual pining, desc. of anxiety, fear of emotional intimacy, jealousy, lack of communication, happy ending, [ft. itzy's chaeryeong, skz's felix, & layla]

smut warnings) under cut!

wc) 14.5k

now playing) bed chem — sabrina carpenter

notes) i took the lyrics “come right on me, i mean camaraderie!” and ran with it. fic’s moodboard here!

smut warnings) several smut scenes, switch!jake/reader, angry s.ex?, s.ex in locker room, jake fu.cks reader in cheer uniform, ti.tty sucking, or.al fixation!jake, munch!jake, or.al s.ex, degra.dation, begging, hair pulling, c.um swallowing, exhibi.tionism, reader makes jake almost c.um in his pants during class, s.ex in janitor’s closet [they do it in a bed eventually lol], lots of kissing, praise, flexible!reader, pull out method [dont], jake slaps reader’s thigh once, petnames [baby, little/baby/good girl], reader mentions being on the pill, raw s.ex

the gym is bustling, filled by cheerleaders and the basketball team as you all practice for the game on wednesday.

“okay! 5 minute break and then we’ll start those high kicks again!” your cheer captian announces after confirming to your coach with some silent hand gestures.

you follow your team as they walk to the bleachers, most grabbing their water bottles or sitting down and wiping the sweat off their skin with a towel.

you reach into your duffel bag, rummaging with your hand blindly for a few moments before realizing you don’t feel your water bottle. unzipping it completely, you search for a bit before letting your head drop with an exhausted sigh.

“what’s wrong?” chaeryeong asks from the seat above yours as she redoes her ponytail.

“i somehow forgot my water.”

“oh, you can have some of mine!” she offers, raising her owala to you.

“do you know how much bacteria is probably in that?” you smile with a teasing grimace, even though you really do mean what you say.

“wow, not even a thank you!” chae pretends to be hurt, putting an offended hand to her chest. “i bet you’re a stanley girly, aren’t you?”

“nope. just a plain water bottle i got from target. secure screw cap, no straw, easy to clean.”

“are you trying to sell it to me?” chae quirks a playful brow and you laugh, waving a hand in front of you as you start to walk towards the gym’s exit. “if you want to drink from your mold filled bottle go ahead. i’m gonna go to the water fountain.”

chaeryeong sticks her tongue out at you just as you enter the hallway, so you make sure to pop your head back in and do the same childish expression at her before approaching the fountain and leaning down to take a drink.

“oh! s-sorry.” a deep voice says as you see sneakers suddenly appear in your downward view. you wipe your mouth and lift your head up to see heeseung, who evidently just came out of the restroom and almost walked right into you.

his hair remains in his face despite him brushing it back with a muscular arm, glistening biceps almost distracting you enough that you forget to answer. but once your eyes travel from his sculpted arms, to his jersey that clings to his sweaty chest, and finally his sweet, doe eyes that stare at you, you remember that he’s expecting you to reply.

“no, it’s okay! don’t worry about it.”

“did you forget your water too?” he chuckles, the sound sending a flurry of butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“yeah…” you answer lamely.

apparently all of your hot cheerleader mojo goes down the drain when you’re in front of lee heeseung, your college’s top basketball player. (it also doesn’t help that you’ve been crushing on him for a good month now.)

“too?” you echo, unable to think of anything else to keep the conversation going but desperately wanting to. despite having regular practices in the same vicinity, this is the first conversation you’ve had, aside from some lingering stares and a few shared smiles.

“jay usually brings a cooler of drinks, but he didn’t this time. probably forgot.”

“oh, pre game nerves, perhaps?” you joke, smiling and tilting your head teasingly.

“we’re not nervous.” heeseung smirks with a flirty tone. “we always win.”

“cocky, are we?”

“maybe. or maybe you cheering for me throughout the game is my lucky charm.”

you bite down your grin to keep yourself under control, delighted at how well your dry conversation has turned into some playful flirting. you hoped he was into you, but you’re not going to assume that from a few distant smiles.

“what makes you think i’m cheering just for you?”

heeseung chuckles and steps closer, you noting how he has to tilt his head down to look at you because he’s so damn tall. his eyes zero in on yours, an intensity filling the air as he takes a breath to speak—

but right before he can, another voice interrupts as it echos down the hallway.

“yo, hee! they’re needing you back, man.” a shorter man runs up, it not taking you long to recognize him.

it’s jake sim, one of the smartest seniors on your campus.

you feel like you’re from completely different worlds whenever you see him. he’s popular like you, yes. but he has a pretty clean rep with perfect grades to match. professor’s love him for his kiss-ass attitude and students…well.

they want to fuck him— or him fuck them. either way. nothing really matters to anyone when your face is as cute as his and you have a hot aussie accent.

not that you relate to the any of those sentiments. you actually find him annoying as fuck.

“oh,” jake mumbles when he notices you behind heeseung’s larger frame, sounding almost bothered by your presence.

well the feeling’s mutual.

“come on, dude. they sent me to get you.” he further urges, grabbing heeseung’s arm.

“what are you even doing here, jake?” you ask with a hand raising to your hip, only a hint of your annoyance at the interruption showing in your tone. he’s not on the basketball team, neither cheer. he has no reason to be here.

“not right now, pom-poms.” the boy dismisses, not even bothering to look at you as he drags heeseung off.

you scoff in utter disbelief at his rudeness.

he always steals the spotlight when you’re about to answer a question in your one shared class, and now he’s stealing your man? (granted, he’s not your man— but he could have been, if jake hadn’t ran over!)

you stand and wonder what he was about to say. what if that conversation could have ended with him finally asking for your number!

“y/n! c’mon, girl! it’s go time!” one of your team member’s call out from the gym doorway.

you sigh before running to join your squad.

(❤︎)

it’s taken you to nearly be under your minimum gpa to admit that you’re failing algebra, a course you’re required to take. not only can this harm your future, but you could get kicked off the cheer team.

“well, you have to do something!” chaeryeong whisper-yells at you as you sit in physics class.

“i don’t want to have to pay for a tutor, i’m broke enough as it is.”

“then ask one of your friends.” chae suggests.

“…none of my friends are that smart,” you giggle under your breath, chaeryeong slapping you on the arm and causing an echo to resound in the room. like two mischievous children, chae retracts her hand to her lap and you straighten your posture, waiting to make sure no one is looking over at you.

a few moments later, and chae leans closer to you, eyes staring forward in an attempt to be more subtle.

"just ask jake. he's an engineer major. he’s gotta be good at algebra. and i heard he's loaded, so he doesn’t even need your money."

"hell no." you answer plainly, lips falling into a straight line as you glance over at the boy who’s rows away from you, nearly at the front of the class.

try hard.

"oh, come on, y/n. he's not that bad."

"he is. and besides, we’re not friends and i couldn’t ever bring myself to ask a favor of him, nevertheless for free!”

“he’s your best shot, dude. it’s either this, or officially screw yourself over.”

chaeryeong’s words— though not eloquently put, are true. and they annoyingly ring in your head for the remainder of the class.

chae hurries out to go to her next class, as does most everyone else. but you have a little bit of time.

so you linger in your seat, watching how meticulous jake is about placing his things in his backpack, wondering how he manages to straighten his glasses in the most egotistical way possible. you wait until jake starts walking towards the exit and is farther away from the professor, not wanting to have this conversation right in front of him. finally (reluctantly) you stand up and catch up to jake’s side.

he doesn’t bother slowing down, continuing to walk.

“hey, uh- jake,” you begin, feeling weird to say his name to his face. you cut to the chase, not caring enough to keep up impressions with him. “look, i need a tutor. i’m-“

“no, sorry.” he cuts you off simply, leaving you a tad stunned as your stride is broken. you stare at the back of his head until he turns a corner, then you go jogging after him.

“what? but, i-i”

“i don’t want to have to spend my free time tutoring someone.” jake explains, glancing at you before looking away just as quickly.

“i can pay you.” you say, innerly embarrassed at how fast your resolve has crumbled. chaeryeong would be laughing at you if she could see this right now.

“not interested.”

you can almost hear her in your brain…

“well, there’s gotta be something!”

jake finally comes to a sudden halt, almost causing you to run into his backpack before he turns to face you.

“i’m assuming it’s grammar you need help with?”

your initially surprised expression drops into a glare as you reply with a clearly fed up, “no. algebra.”

jake seems to ponder this for a moment, before smiling at you in a way that actually seems like it may be genuine (or at least not entirely snarky).

“walk my dog.”

“huh?” is that a euphemism for something?

“my dog, layla. she’s full of energy but sometimes i’m just too tired after classes or work. do you like animals?”

“i’m a biology major.”

jake looks a bit stunned, eyes blinking to open wider as they skim over your appearance for a second.

“what?” you start, very clearly offended. “why do you look so surprised?”

“i just thought it’d be…something else.”

“like what?”

“i don’t know. something in the creative field?”

“that’s stereotypical.”

jake bites on his bottom lip, you realizing he’s trying to conceal a smile, but before you can get mad about it— he continues.

“look, if you want it, we have a deal. yes or no, pom-poms?”

a flare of anger sparks inside you every single time he refers to you as ‘pom-poms’.

with lips pressed into an agitated line, you stretch out your open palm demandingly. “give me your phone.”

“why?”

“so i can give you my number and type in the contact name myself. my names y/n, not pom-poms.”

jake laughs under his breath, handing you his phone and watching as you type in your information.

“so is that a yes?”

“yes. can we meet tomorrow?”

“at my place.” jake agrees. “jay’s my only roommate so it should be less distracting for you.”

you hand jake back his phone, the man giggling at the little wave emoji you sent to yourself through his number so you’d have it in your phone.

“by the way, i already knew your name.”

“then why do you always call me pom-poms?”

“becaause…you always have them?” jake answers like it’s obvious. you scoff, putting an unamused hand to your hip.

“i don’t have them right now, do i?”

“no, and it’s honestly a little eerie.” he smirks, clearly intentionally getting under your skin and enjoying every second of it.

“whatever,” you exhale, completely over the conversation. “i gotta go to my next class. see ya.”

“see ya, pom-poms.”

…jerk.

(❤︎)

heeseung was right, they won the game, and his team wanted to go out and celebrate. it wasn’t a big win or anything, just a casual competition, but every now and then they like to celebrate their wins by going out to eat or a casual hang out at someone’s dorm. you also think they do it so they have an excuse to invite you and your cheer squad to hang out.

and this time was no different. after the game you all piled in friend’s cars and headed over to a small but good local restaurant nearby. unfortunately, you never got a chance to talk to heeseung. the restaurant was smaller and a bit packed with all of you in there, and you and hee ended up being seated far away from each other. all the different conversations and bustle of the restaurant covered up anyone’s voices besides who was right next to you, so you couldn’t even hear him.

still, it was fun. you ended up rolling into bed a little past 1 am.

which you’re now really regretting as you had to wake up at 5 am to get ready and rush to conditioning practice. once you’ve finished your drills, showered, and are walking to your first class of the day, you decided to text jake.

you: hey 👋 we still down for today

jake sim: Yes.

okay. one text and you’re already seeing some similarities in how he texts with your 60 year old uncle.

you: there a certain time i should come

you: also can u give me ur building number

jake: Is there*

you: huh

jake: IS there a certain time I should come?*

jake: Do you have something against vowels and punctuation?

you: omg!!

you: just tell me the fuckin time and address!!?!

you: is that enough punctuation for you?

jake: …

jake: Fucking*

(❤︎)

after cheer practice you hop in your car and enter in the address that was like pulling teeth for jake to finally give you. you can tell by looking at the address that it’s off campus, and as you pull up in jake’s driveway you realize chaeryeong was right when she said jake was loaded.

okay, maybe not loaded loaded, but he’s definitely well off, judging by the outside of his very nice home, perfectly stripe cut grass and shapely shrubbery. there’s even multiple cars here, which you note with a bit of confusion.

you stand and knock at the big, sculpted wooden doors for a minute, before simply trying the knob, which is luckily unlocked.

when you step inside you here distant voices.

deciding to follow the sound, it leads you to a billiard room where you see heeseung, jake and jay playing pool. they’re all stood around while a blonde haired man has his back to you, leaned over as he angles his shot. they still haven’t noticed your presence yet, and you feel incredibly awkward despite being invited to be here.

“um…jake?”

at your voice, all the men turn at once, the blonde man revealing his face to you.

you’re struck with horror as you both stare wide eyed at each other. someone’s speaking but you don’t catch it, everything sounding like it’s under water.

it’s lee felix. aka your ex that you abruptly ghosted after almost a year into your relationship.

“y/n?” felix utters, and it’s like you just breached the water’s surface, a sudden wave of consciousness washing over you as everything comes back into focus.

“y/n, i’m so sorry! i legitimately forgot!” jake says, and you take your opportunity to look at him and away from felix.

“it’s- its okay, i just…um,” you’re about to offer to leave, before heeseung speaks up.

“just stay, y/n. ever played pool?” he smiles sweetly, and the goosebumps that have raised on your skin soothe a little at his comforting expression.

“yeah! we can play cutthroat!” jay exclaims, already going over to the rack to get you a cue.

“she can just use mine.” heeseung stops him, coming to your side and causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“we’ve come close enough to poking someone’s eye out already, i don’t think we need more pointy sticks in the equation.” he laughs.

“okay, but i’m going first, since i was going to win that last game anyways.”

“as if, bro!” jay tries with jake. “i was gonna win!”

as heeseung moves to intervene the two boys and rearrange the balls on the table, at some point felix silently appears by your side, startling you as he softly says “have you played cutthroat before?”

“no,” you answer just as softly as the boys fill in the silence with their bickering. “i don’t even know how to play regular pool.”

felix laughs with a shining smile, and your chest fills with bittersweet nostalgia at the familiar yet almost forgotten memory of the deep timber of felix’s laugh and the crinkle of his nose that often pairs with it.

“don’t worry, cutthroat is actually a pretty good game for your first time despite the name. want me to show you how to hold your cue?”

“is that the stick thing?” you ask, and felix bursts into higher pitched giggles, the warmth of his aura making the tension in your body melt away.

(❤︎)

so much for jake’s place being ‘less distracting’. it’s 9 pm and you don’t think you’re actually going to have a session with jake tonight. but oh well, you’re actually having fun!

after about two hours of playing pool and just hanging out, you ask jake where the bathroom is before walking down the long hallway.

as you’re walking back, coming up to the archway of jake’s living room you all ended up migrating to, you hear heeseung speaking.

“i didn’t know you were tutoring her?”

“yeah,” jake answers with a huffed laugh. “i haven’t actually tutored her yet, and i probably never will.”

your brows furrow as you halt your feet, standing in the hallway silently to listen.

“what do you mean?” another voice asks. you think it’s jay.

“i don’t think she’s really looking to brush up on her algebra, man. she’s a typical dumb cheerleader, she’s probably just over here because she knows i’m friends with the basketball team.”

“dude-“ heeseung starts, but another thicker aussie accent interrupts.

“that’s fucked, man! how can you say that about her?”

there’s a tense few moments of silence, and you’re not sure if you wished you could see what’s happening or glad that you can’t. you blink as moisture starts to build up in your eyes.

“me? what about you? i’m surprised you’re defending her. didn’t she drop you like you meant nothing to her right when your relationship started to get serious?”

you can’t. you can’t listen anymore.

as quiet and quickly as possible, you head back to the bathroom before a watery gasp can expose your presence. a hand is rubbing at your eyes as tears stream down your face when your hands feel the cool metal of the doorknob.

you shut the door behind you and slide down it, onto your butt, crying into your knees that you wrap your arms around.

then you feel something wet swipe up your leg and you flinch, looking up to see a blonde little dog looking at you curiously.

“oh,” you whisper aloud to yourself, trying not to think about how stuffy you sound. “you must be layla, huh?”

the dogs mouth opens up to let her tongue hang out, appearing like she’s giving you a smile as she sits down obediently, tail wagging behind her.

you can’t help but let out a somber little giggle, wiping a tear off your cheek before leaning over to pet her on the head.

“you’re cute.” you smile, letting her soft fur and rhythmic panting calm you down.

a few minutes later the door opens, jake’s head popping in.

“oh, there you are.” he says, watching how layla is spread out on her back in your lap as you pet her belly.

“did you get lost?”

“uh, yeah.” you take the excuse, gently pushing layla off and standing up. “couldn’t find the bathroom.”

“heeseung and felix are about to leave, but they wanted to say bye.” jake explains, and you follow him out the door and to wherever the boys are.

“okay.” you reply, trying to make your voice sound smooth and not like you were just crying.

“hey, jake?”

the aussie looks over at you as you continue walking.

“can we still get a short tutoring sesh in?” you ask innocently on the outside, but inwardly there’s the burn of spite in your lungs. “i know it’s kinda late but i really need it.”

“oh…yeah, sure.” jake answers, looking away from you.

you bite down a salty smirk.

(❤︎)

after going over to jake’s house you turned his texts to mute and haven’t looked ever since.

it’s saturday night, which means football competition. a neighboring team is at your college’s home field to play head to head, and right now, it’s anybody’s game.

you’re in the middle of a cupie stunt right now, your base holding your body up with one hand as you focus on balancing and keeping on a big smile.

once your team’s routine is over you go to sit on the sidelines as the announcer’s voice booms over the speakers.

“hey, i’m gonna go get a gatorade.” chaeryeong taps on your shoulder, pointing at the food vendor who walks up the bleacher steps. “do you want anything?”

you turn to look, which proves to be a mistake as you make direct eye contact with none other than jake sim, who’s staring right at you amongst the crowd (and he looks a little ticked).

you snap your head back straight, letting out a yelped ‘no’. chae luckily doesn’t really pick up on your change of tone with how loud the crowd is, and replies with an ‘okay’ before jogging after the descending vendor.

she comes back a few moments later with her drink and a bag of chips.

“i don’t know how you eat during the games, aren’t you afraid you’ll get sick during a routine?”

“you’re on tiktok too much.” chae replies as she pops open the bag. “stop watching those horrible clips. it’s not very likely to happen at all. and i’m not a flyer like you. even if i puked, it wouldn’t get on anyone.”

“okaay! sorry i brought it up, getting grossed oout!”

chaeryeong laughs, bumping her shoulders with yours.

“hey, tell me about how it went with jake?”

you sigh with a roll of your eyes. “he only taught me for like, an hour.”

“oh!” chae squeals amidst chewing. “perhaps that was because you were too busy falling in love?!”

“oh my god, shut up, chae!”

the girl takes a quick swig of her drink before doing the exact opposite of what you asked. “do you know how many couples start off hating each other? you know, that burning anger you have for him could make for some hot se—“

“chaeryeong!” you gasp and chae laughs at how you sound like a scandalized victorian woman who just saw someone’s ankles. “stop it! that’s never happening.”

“i bet you’d have really good bed chem.” she states like it’s a fact.

“whatever.” you say just as the stadium erupts.

your home team doesn’t win, but your cheer squad goes out on the field to do your last routine anyways. you all go to the locker room to change after, most of your team moving quick to go to some party.

“you not coming, y/n?” your friend asks, chaeryeong also looking at you for your answer.

“i don’t think so, guys. maybe next time.”

eventually everyone walks out, leaving you alone as you set your pom-poms down.

amidst taking off your top, your hair falls into your face, leading you to shake your head as you blindly place your shirt inside your locker. when you open your eyes, you spot jake in your peripheral, staring at you wide eyed like an idiot while holding open the door.

“jake!” you screech, moving to cover your chest with your arms. “what the fuck!”

“i’m- i-i’m sorry, i was just trying to find you-“

“i don’t care, pervert! don’t come in the locker room!”

even with the distance, you can see how jake’s ears turn red. his face morphs from embarrassed panic to mad (and still embarrassed), the boy stomping closer until he’s right in front of you.

“i’m not a pervert, you kept ignoring my texts! we had a deal, you know!”

“well, you pissed me off!”

“me! how did i piss you off?”

“you- you’re…so fucking annoying!” you let out, not even knowing where you’re going with this as you get up in jake’s face.

“you ruined my chances with heeseung and act like an ass all the time!”

“ruined your chances! how did i ruin your chances with hee?” jake asks, and you back down a bit, not wanting to tell jake that you heard what he said that night.

at your silence, jake takes the opportunity to continue. “i mean, yeah. i don’t want you to be with heeseung, but that doesn’t mean i’d meddle—“

“and why don’t you want me to be with heeseung,” you interject, getting closer inch by inch to jake’s face as he stands his ground, giving you the same piercing eyes you challenge him with. “is it because…you think i’ll break his heart?”

you try to ask the question with just as much bite as your previous, hoping your insecurities don’t show through.

jake blanches, slightly taken aback by the directness of your question before he doubles down ten fold, pressing closer to you until your noses almost touch.

“yeah. maybe i do.” he grumbles to admit, breath puffing into your face.

you inhale to scoff, but then your chest brushes up against his, and suddenly you both remember that you’re only in a bra and cheer skirt.

jake glances down, eyes flitting over how your boobs press together when you have your arms angrily crossed, before meeting your gaze again.

the next thing you know, your lips are on his.

you don’t know who leaned in first, all you know is that he tastes like lemonade, tart but sweet enough to leave you wanting more.

his hands immediately go to your breasts, pushing you up against the lockers in his haste as the metal clangs and echos around the room, covering up your soft moan of shock.

your hands naturally move to rest at his stomach, where your surprised to feel the firm divots and raises of abs.

“do you-…do you workout?” you pant after parting from jake’s lips to take a breath. the boy doesn’t bother stopping, trailing his mouth from the corner of yours to down your neck, kissing and mouthing along your bra strap.

“can i take this off?” he asks, ignoring your question. you nod with a quiet little ‘yes’, jake reaching behind you to snap open your bra with one hand.

you try not to be too impressed (and fail), noting to yourself that the rumors must be true and this nerd does indeed fuck.

jake hastily guides your bra down your arms and tosses it to the side, latching his plush lips to your bud as his veiny hands continue to kneed at your breasts.

“oh my god,” you whisper under your breath, fingers moving to run through his hair as you let your head lean back against the locker. jake lets out a breathy groan at the feeling of you on his tongue and how you’re unconsciously giving small tugs to the tufts of his hair.

you whimper and flinch at the ghost of jake’s teeth on your nipple, quite literally feeling the curve of his smile on your skin as he glances up at you, not bothering to detach from your tits as his eyes sparkle with mischief. you let out a sigh as you smirk down at him, giving a now conscious, firm pull to his hair and watching how jake’s eyes shut in the stinging pleasure, a throaty moan escaping him.

“you’re a jerk.”

jake kisses from the swell of your breast and down your stomach in response, as though apologizing. now on his knees, he pauses at the waistband of your skirt. your hands move to take it off before jake stops you, sliding his palms over the material and to your thighs, squeezing at the plushness of them as he moves his head downward.

butterfly kisses are now being pressed up your legs until jake’s face is fully under your skirt. you put a hand over your mouth as you feel jake slowly sliding your panties down, trying to contain a needy moan at his teasing.

“damn, you’re wet.” jake whispers, the breath of his voice tickling your skin and causing your legs to tremble.

“please?” you whine, but only barely, still trying to hold on to some of your dignity.

“please what, pom-poms?” jake asks, and you can hear the smugness in his tone even while his face is hidden.

your eyes roll.

“oh my god, jake. please just shut the fuck up and eat me out!”

“can do.”

that’s all the warning jake gives before burying his face in your pussy, going at it like he’s starved.

you bite down on your lip to keep from crying out, not wanting jake to know just how good his mouth feels. (god knows his ego doesn’t need the boost.) you think you’re doing pretty good at keeping quiet, even when jake flicks your clit with his tongue, you only flinch slightly.

but jake takes notice of your silence, and it’s pissing him off.

so he runs a digit through the wetness of your pussy before pressing the entirety of it into your hole roughly, feeling how tightly your walls clench around him.

“f- fuck!” you startle.

it’s only one finger, but the length of it and the stretch his knuckles provide as he pumps them in and out of you mercilessly is making you come undone quicker than you would have thought.

jake’s making lots of slurping noises as his tongue licks at your leaking hole, nose nuzzling over your pulsing clit.

fuck, this man knows how to eat pussy. and when he presses a second finger inside of you, you know you’ve lost the quiet game. a whine comes from your throat as you squeeze your eyes shut, hips moving in small motions to meet the thrust of jake’s fingers.

he’s growling against you, eyes shut as he seems lost in the taste of you.

it isn’t until your head rolls to the side in pleasure that you notice he’s tugged his pants down just enough for his (to your shock, very big) cock to spring out, jerking himself off furiously as pre cum dribbles from the head.

“are you- fucking serious?” you laugh breathlessly, jake not stoping but opening his eyes to give you a confused glare.

“you’re getting off just from eating my pussy? how many of your hookups know you’re a munch?”

jake’s suddenly pulling his mouth off and fingers out of you with a cold look, but the hand on his cock never slows. if anything, it gets faster.

“if you’re gonna be a brat then i’m not making you cum.”

you’re thrown off, not expecting him to react this way, or how strangely embarrassed yet turned on it makes you feel. something about how angrily jake glares at you while he fists his big cock, even while he’s the one kneeling at your feet, it makes you feel oddly small.

and as much as it pains you to admit, desperate.

“i’m- i’m…sorry?”

jake lets out a humored scoff, shaking his head.

“you’re gonna have to do better than that. beg.”

you grit your teeth as you let out a frustrated sigh, unable to make eye contact as you force yourself to speak.

“please…make me cum.”

jake gives you an utterly unimpressed expression. “or i can just leave-“

“no! please, i- i’m sorry. i’ll be good, i wont be a brat anymore. just please make me cum?”

jake’s lips slowly stretch into a smirk that makes chills run down your spine, watching as his hand returns to his dick to rub over the leaking tip.

you unconsciously lick your lips and swallow.

“you’re gonna be a good girl for me?” he asks darkly.

“y- yes. i’ll be a good girl.”

jake’s diving back in with double the passion, his fingers slipping right back in as he curls them just right inside of you, hurling you towards climax.

“ah, j-jake, please! need- can i?” you pant, hardly able to get a word out as he’s sucking at your clit, giving it special attention.

he hums and you take it as a yes, thighs trembling as you cum all over jake’s chin.

“my turn.” jake growls, standing up and pushing you down to kneel in front of him, barely giving you any time to catch your breath before he’s shoving his dick in your mouth. still, you moan out happily, admittedly dying to have him in your mouth the moment you saw his pretty, pink tip and how big he is.

“that’s it, suck my cock like a good little slut.” jake orders, admiring how hot you look sitting on the floor in your short little cheer skirt. he grabs your hair in two fists, chuckling at how it looks like makeshift pigtails as he pulls on your hair to guide you further down his cock.

you sputter, struggling to take his bulbous tip down your throat but loving it and the stretch your jaw has to make to accommodate him.

he’s literally fucking your face, letting out little groans as he harshly snaps his hips against you.

once he looks down and sees your pretty eyes already looking up at him, it’s over.

jake deeply growls when he presses your face flat against his pelvis, cock shoved deeply down your throat as he pumps out his hot load, forcing you to swallow it all. (not that you wouldn’t have anyway.)

jake pulls you off of him with a wet pop, trying to it to ogle at how you lick his cum off your lips.

tucking himself back inside his pants, you look for your own clothes as jake finds a towel to wipe his hands and face off with, before tossing it in a nearby hamper.

“um,” jake starts, biting his lip as an awkward air takes over between you. “i am actually sorry, about…whatever i did that’s made you feel like i ruined it with heeseung for you.”

“it’s…it’s whatever. i’m sorry too, i kinda lost it.”

jake laughs softly, the sound breaking a little of the tension as he looks up to make direct eye contact. “i think we both did, but it’s okay. maybe we should just call it even?”

“sure,” you smile, combing your hair out of your face, trying to make it look like you didn’t just get eaten out and throat fucked in the locker room. (though you doubt anyone is around at this point, or at least you hope.)

“i’ll come around sometime to walk layla, just shoot me a text…and i really will answer this time.” you joke, jake taking the initiative to grab your cheer bag for you.

“sooo…do you still want me to be your tutor?”

“yeah! i do.” you answer simply, an annoying little voice in the back of your head saying that maybe chaeryeong was right, and you really did just need to fuck the frustration out of each other. even though there wasn’t actually any fucking…

“i still have something i’m wondering though,” you say as the two of you walk out of the locker room, jake letting you lead the way out of the stadium.

“what were you doing at basketball practice? on monday.”

“oh, well, normally heeseung comes with jay to our place and we game or something, after their practice. but i got off early and just decided to drop in.”

“where do you work?” you ask, looking over to jake and watching how he slightly swings your bag side to side as he walks.

“part time at the cafe, in the cafeteria…you haven’t seen me?” he asks jokingly, a faux pout on his lips.

“no.” you play along, answering ‘smugly’ as you lift your chin up, before giggling. “no, i usually have my lunch in the library.”

“oh, toooo…study?”

“i wish. if i spent that time studying i probably wouldn’t need a tutor,“ you admit with a bashful smile. “but usually i’m reading something.”

“oh! what do you like to read?”

“ah,” you whine, covering your face as you let out an embarrassed laugh. usually you’re undisturbed in the library, everyone else is typically there to study, have some alone time, or eat their lunch in a place that’s quiet. you’ve never had anyone ask you what you’re reading.

“it’s…embarrassing. i’m gonna sound boring.”

“what?” jake laughs, turning in front of you and walking backwards so he can fully look at you. “tell me, i’m dying to know now.”

“i mean, usually it’s about animal history-“

“right! biology major.” jake remembers.

“yup.” you nod. “buuut, sometimes i read biographies or like, theories.”

jake’s ears practically perk, but you don’t notice, pushing open a door before jake’s back can run into it.

“oh, thanks.” he says before returning to your side after the close call, deciding he’d rather not possibly fall right in front of you with your heavy cheer bag to land on top of him. “theories? what- what kind of theories?”

“right now i’m reading einstein’s.”

jake looks over to you with widened eyes, surprised because he’s never met anyone else that actually has an interest in stuff like that. he’s tried to rant to jay or heeseung about that kind of stuff, be he can tell they’re just replying on auto pilot, not really listening.

jake wonders how far you’ve read, what all you know. he’s practically tingling with excitement, about to ask you if you know about the team of scientists that disproved one of einstein’s theories when-

“well, i’m gonna get back to my dorm now,”you say just as you reach the campus sidewalk, street lamps lighting the path as dusk turns to darkness.

“i can walk you? it’s pretty late.” jake offers, already moving as though to go with you.

you feel your heart stop, a feeling you can only describe as ‘oh no’ burning a hole into the pit of your stomach.

“jake…earlier…it was just casual, yknow…”

jake stares at you, eyes round and capturing the lights in his dark pupils like stars in the sky. he stills, free hand going inside his pocket while the other still holds your bag.

“not that i’m assuming anything!” you hurry to add. “just thought i’d…clarify.”

“yeah…yeah, i know. i just- i just didn’t think it’d be a big deal to walk you home.”

“it’s not a big deal. that’s why i can do it myself.” you explain as nonchalantly as you can, but on the inside you feel like there’s needles pricking your skin, hairs all standing on end. you’re dying to be out of this situation, anxiety making you feel like prey, wanting to run, run, run.

“right! yeah, of course!”

you smile smoothly, leaning in to take your bag from his hand.

“i’ll see you at our next session, okay?”

“okay.” jake smiles softly, but you don’t look for too long, turning your back too soon, listening to the voice yelling in your head to leave.

you hear jake’s voice behind you as you walk down the paved path, his voice slightly carrying into the night.

“stay safe, pom-poms!”

you laugh, little and quiet to yourself as you whisper.

“jerk.”

(❤︎)

for the next week you’re busier than ever: tutor sessions, cheer practice, competition days, your usual studies and classes, taking layla on walks every now and then when jake is at work.

and yet, you’re thriving.

jake’s ‘hard work on you’— as he put it, is paying off.

you’re at your usual spot that you and jake have your sessions, his house.

the clock strikes 10 pm when you finally call it quits. layla (who’s been switching between sitting on your and jake’s feet from underneath the table) jumps up the second she hears the slam of your notebook and jake getting up to put away his study material.

“what is it, girl?” you laugh, watching the golden furred dog do an excited little wiggle dance in front of you.

she looks from you, to the front door, and back at you again.

“jake, i think she wants to go outside.”

uh-oh. you said her buzzword.

at the mention of ‘outside’, layla becomes twice as restless, whining and pawing at the front door with her claws.

“layla, no,” jake stops her, pulling her away from the door before she can scratch the wood.

“are you gonna take her?” you ask, jake turning his head to you as he continues to pat and scratch layla’s back, trying to sedate her.

“maybe just for a little bit, once you go home.”

“…i’ll go with you.” you offer, jake’s brows raising slightly in surprise.

“you don’t have to, y/n. i know we have a ‘deal’ but i don’t actually care if you-“

“i want to.” you shrug.

“you do?”

“yeah?”

“aren’t you tired?” jake asks, standing up and tilting his head at you.

you tilt yours back at him, a teasing smirk on your face. “i’m not. are you?”

jake takes one look at your smirk and falls into your trap, so easily persuaded by even the notion of a challenge. grabbing layla’s leash out of a nearby drawer in the kitchen, he hooks it onto layla’s collar and puts on his slides.

“lets go.” he smiles, you laughing at how his accent really pops out when he says the word ‘go’.

“what’s so funny?” he giggles with you despite not knowing why, watching as you hurriedly slip the shoes closest to you— which happen to be jake’s crocs that he never wears. they’re way too big, you putting them in ‘sport mode’ to try and combat the obvious size issue.

it doesn’t work. but despite that, they stay on.

“you look like a garden gnome,” jake laughs, letting you playfully slap him on the shoulder and watching how you bolt out the door a second later with a screech, like a kid playing tag.

“don’t run in them!! poms, you’re going to fall!” he yells, quickly grabbing a coat off the hook for you in case you get cold before he and layla hurry out the door and after you.

you walk around for about 15 minutes, eventually coming upon a gas station.

“…you hungry?”

you end up being the one to go inside the gas station while jake stays outside with layla, since dogs aren’t allowed in. he watches you closely the entire time though, staring at you while he stands right at the glass door entrance.

“i’m a big girl, you know.” you laugh once you walk back out, jake holding the door open for you. “im not gonna die if you’re not there to watch me.”

“i know, but gas stations at night just kinda freak me out.” jake whines, taking the plastic bag from your hands while you hold the two cups of hot ramen. you go and sit at a nearby bench that’s right beneath a window, the glow of the gas station’s light’s shining a light on the area around you.

“did you make it how i told you?” jake sing-songs as he ties layla’s leash to the bench’s leg, the dog taking the time to enjoy the break as she lays by his feet obediently.

“yes, i followed your obscenely specific instructions down to the very detail to make you the perfect ramen, jake.” you roll your eyes in faux annoyance, handing the cup of ramen to him, as well as a plastic fork.

“thank you.” he smiles coyly, taking the container from you.

“you’re welcome, princess.” you sigh jokingly.

you take a few bites of your ramen before speaking up again, as jake seems completely content to wordlessly munch on his food.

“so what are you and the boy’s gonna do this weekend?”

“mmm,” jake hums, swallowing before continuing. “i think we’re going over to felix’s.”

“oh.” you reply, picking up your drink to take a sip a second later.

even though it was chill when you last saw felix, you still feel a little awkward when his name comes up…or maybe it’s guilt you’re feeling.

“what’s up with that?” jake asks, looking at how your body language has changed to uncomfortable.

“what’s up with what?”

“…all of it, i guess.” jake specifies, and he sounds serious. like he really wants to know your history with felix.

you exhale and hope it doesn’t sound shaky, giving yourself a moment to take another bite of your food as you gather your thoughts. usually you might say ‘i don’t want to talk about it’ or ‘i don’t know’, but after hearing what jake said that first time you were over at your house…you want him to hear your side. even though your side doesn’t really excuse what you did.

“we…i liked him, freshman year. and he didn’t at first, but then he came around and eventually asked me out. and…he was honestly really great, he was a wonderful partner and i…really, really liked him.”

“so then…why? why’d you…”

“drop him?” you finish jake’s trailed of sentence for him.

he nods.

“i just…” you pause, looking down at your shoes and twisting the soles of them into the concrete. your heart wanes in realization that you’re about to talk about it. “sometimes i get really scared when- someone…cares about me? i don’t know. i don’t know how to describe it.”

“why does someone caring for you scare you?”

“i’m not sure. feeling…pressure? to be perfect, to keep them from leaving? or…scared of having someone that i care for so much, because…that means they could really hurt me.”

“when did that start?” jake asks softly, voice free of judgement, even pity— you think. just a gentle desire to understand.

“oh, i don’t know.” you laugh, though there’s no real humor behind it. you look down at layla and the way the light hits her fur, turning the tips a flaming gold. “parent stuff, friend stuff…i had a really shitty ex in high school.”

jake barks out a short laugh. “same, i think it’s a part of the teenage experience.”

“trauma builds character.” you say matter-of-factly, jake giggling as you can’t help but join him.

“i am sorry though, about what happened to you and that it’s made you feel this way. you didn’t deserve that.”

you bite your lip, staring at each other as your stomach twists from the soft timber of his voice and the gentleness of his words.

you look away.

“i know what i did to him was wrong. it doesn’t excuse it….”

“…no.” jake confirms. “but it does make sense. and it’s good that you know what the problem is now.”

“yeah,” you agree with a small smile, heart still heavy, but at the same time you do feel a bit better after talking about it.

“and i have gotten better. i still get scared, and sometimes i have unconscious bad habits, but i’ve gotten better at…telling my brain to shut up, when i realize.” you struggle to explain, but jake nods his head like he gets it.

your arms shiver slightly, from the cool night air or the adrenaline rush after voicing your feelings— you’re not sure.

jake unties the jacket from around his waist and lays it over your shoulders, but your goosebumps remain.

(❤︎)

as you walk into physics class you take a small glance at jake, offering a quick smile as you pass by him at his usual spot in front row before you go and sit down towards the middle.

there’s already someone sitting to your right, so you’re about to sit your bag on the left seat for chae (who’s apparently running late) when jake abruptly appears and takes the spot.

you’re staring at him with a confused ‘what the fuck’ face as he finishes opening his backpack and placing his things down, putting on his glasses so he can see the professor and their material from far away before turning to smile at you.

“hi,” he whispers.

you try to change your expression to a more casual one, seeing that he for some reason decided to change his usual seating arrangements to sit next to you, and that seems to be his only prerogative.

“hey…” you whisper back, turning to face the front after.

the professor begins the class, but you can’t focus. jake keeps trying to help you, leaning close to add on to what the professor is saying, then he notices the eraser on your pencil is almost gone and gives you a new one. but worst of all, when you tilt your head to write something down, hair cascading like a curtain over your face, jake gently moves to tuck your hair behind your ear, smiling sweetly at you when you glance at him.

you’re not confused anymore. you think you know exactly what’s going on and you’re…you don’t know what to do. everything suddenly feels like it’s spiraling into a mess and you desperately want to feel like you’re in control of it again.

so you cross your legs and lean in jake’s direction, taking it slow and simply brushing up against his pant leg.

jake’s eyes look down but quickly move back up to the front of the class, maybe assuming it’s on accident, though his expression does look slightly frazzled.

you want to mess him up more.

thankful for the table that’s about to cover your sins, you place your hand right above jake’s knee.

he fully acknowledges you now, snapping his head to give you a confused look, trying and failing to hide how flustered he is thanks to his blushing ears.

you tilt your head to indicate confusion, your ‘innocent’ act not fooling him at all as you creep your hand farther up his leg, to the meatier part of his thigh. the higher you go, the pinker his cheeks grow, looking more and more adorable.

you feel like a predator that’s caught her prey when you squeeze and his body jerks, hair falling into his eyes before he shakes it away and adjusts his glasses.

you feel like your pupils dilate at the action, watching jake sitting there and not even telling you to stop, letting you touch him in class where anyone could catch you. he’s dressed like the smart boy he is today, his polo shirt and kaki pants paired with oval framed glasses almost giving a nerdy virgin vibe. it makes you really wet, especially since you’re so close to his cock, which you never got to touch with your hands.

a bulge is starting to grow in his pants and you let your fingers barely graze over it as you start massaging his thigh.

“y-y/n?” he speaks so softly you would miss it if it weren’t for how close you sit together.

“hm?”

you glance up at him casually, like you’re fingers aren’t narrowly avoiding his cock right now, and it’s driving him crazy.

it’s making him desperate.

you’re in the middle of class and yet he’s dying for you to just touch his dick already.

he’s debating between if he should ask or not when you finally put your whole hand over his bulge. he stops a whine from bubbling up his throat as your touch is still feather light, not even giving him the grace of more pressure. pushing his hips up into your palm, you pull away, bringing your hands back into your lap and attention back on the professor.

“what? b- baby-“

“what, nerd?” you say with a little bite, and the name has jake twitching in his pants.

“pl- please? can you keep…touching me?”

“we’re in class, jake.” you say, pretending to be mildly annoyed, as if you weren’t the one who started all this.

a tiny noise escapes from jake’s throat, squeezing his eyes shut as he clenches his thighs, trying to relieve the pulsing of his own dick as blood rushes down south.

“jake!” you scold with a harsh whisper, genuinely surprised by how shameless he’s getting.

“please, y/n.” he struggles out, voice whiney. “i need you.”

your breath turns shakey, the facade of being unaffected crumbling as you feel yourself getting more and more turned on. granting him mercy, you bring your hand back down to fully grope his bulge, eyes growing wide as you’re reminded of how big he is.

“fuck.” you sigh, jake giving a twitchy thrust at your voice.

“dirty boy.” is all you say before facing the class again, really trying not to get caught now as your touches turn into you basically jacking him off over his pants.

jake humps into your hand as subtly as he can, almost missing how the professor’s asking him a question if it weren’t for how you pinch his thigh to break him out of it.

“w-what?” jake asks, sounding far from intelligent.

“i said, what is the speed of darkness, mr. sim.”

“oh- um,”

your hand goes right back to jacking him off, stopping at the tip of his dick to massage over it. jake swallows down a cry.

“i expected this to be easy, especially for you, mr. sim.”

“it- it has none.” he croaks out, voice almost raising in his efforts to avoid his building orgasm, the panic almost making him reach that point faster. “darkness is the absence of light, so it doesn’t h- have any speed.”

“correct! dark is simply the absence of photons which means-“

“i’m gonna cum.” jake says as quietly as possible, leaning back in his chair and pushing his face into the side of your arm, hiding his face. “y/n, m’gonna!”

you stop your hand and push him off of you, sitting up straighter as you whisper “after class”, leaving jake trembling in his chair, panting under his breath and too desperate to argue.

it feels like an eternity has passed when class ends, you getting up immediately and jake rushing to follow you. you lead him out into the hallway, hurrying up and opening a closet door before the crowds of other students fill the halls. jake practically moans when you grab him by the shirt and shove him inside, shutting the door behind you. it’s dark as you feel for the light switch, unable to find it.

“fuck, where’s the lights?”

you hear a click and the small closet is dimly illuminated, jake standing right in front of you with wide, shiny eyes, holding a string that’s connected to the one lightbulb that lights the space, which you now can see is a janitor’s closet.

“oh, thank you.” you say normally, like your panties aren’t soaking wet, before pushing him against the wall, almost knocking over a mop bucket as you intensely make out with jake.

the boy lets you swallow down his long moan of relief, needy hands grasping at your hips and already trying to rut against your leg.

“you really that desperate? can’t help but hump your big cock against me?”

jake whimpers, looking at you with big, pretty brown eyes as he wordlessly begs you.

“maybe you aren’t that smart of a nerd. can’t even talk? does your dick getting some attention make you that dumb?”

“yes! yes, yes, m’ so dumb. so stupid for you. please make me cum? it hurts, baby, please?”

“fuck me.” you order. “then you can cum.”

jake takes a second to process your words before he’s stripping himself bare.

“can- can you take off everything, please? wanna feel all of you.” he asks adorably, and you grant him his wish, albeit— you have to tease him. you peel off your clothes so slowly, jake watching every inch of your skin being revealed like he’s never seen a woman’s body before, hands clenching at his sides with the need to touch you.

“please, please, please.” he chants under his breath, almost to himself unconsciously.

“c’mere, jakey.” you coo, him hugging himself up to you a millisecond later.

he’s whimpering and slobbering into your neck as he attempts to give you kisses in his messy state of mind. you start to giggle until his cock catches at the entrance of your pussy and causes you to let out a whine, jake getting more excited (if it’s possible) after feeling how wet you are for him.

“y/n, please.” he blubbers, resting his forehead against yours.

“you can go inside, baby. fuck me, touch me. i don’t care anymore, just give me your cock.”

jake slowly pushes himself inside, the both of you moaning in relief before jake starts fucking into you slowly.

his face is sweating, glasses sliding down his nose bridge as he tries to give you time to adjust fully to his length. you’re so tight, looking so pretty while your eyes are squeezed shut, head leaning back against the wall as you’re stretched out around his dick. jake peppers little kisses all over the exposed expanse of your neck, you letting out happy little noises at his careful care and the feeling of him inside you.

“you okay, babygirl?”

“yeah, jakey. you can go deeper.”

slowly, jake pushes in as far as he can go, hips flush against yours. his cock is long, reaching places that haven’t been reached in a long time, but still…

“no,” you tremble, knowing it can be even better. “hold on.”

pushing his chest off of you a little to give more space, you lift your right leg and hook it around his shoulder, your other still firmly on the ground.

“okay, keep going.” you almost beg, desperate to be fucked into the wall.

“holy shit…” jake marvels, thrusting as deeply into you as he possibly can go, the new angle making his tip press into your cervix.

“oh my god!” he almost growls as his control slips from his grasp, hips gaining speed as he starts to pound into you. the rough quality of his previously sweet tone has you clenching, making him lose it even more. “you’re so fucking flexible.”

“m- m’a cheerleader.” is all you can manage to get out and explain when jake is fucking you so hard, making you feel so good. the slapping noises of jake’s thrusts and your wet pussy isn’t quiet, but you’re too cock drunk to worry about it, and jake is too lost in the way your needy cunt takes him so well.

“damn right, you are, baby.”

forcing your eyes to focus an jake’s intense gaze as he watches every one of your minute expressions, you see how his glasses rest lop sided on his face, releasing the grip you have on jake’s strong shoulders to fix them.

there’s a shift in jake’s eyes after you do this, and you’re beginning to feel as though he’s looking right through your skin and into your soul. then jake’s big hands wrap tightly around your back, stretching your leg further as you’re pressed flush against him and the wall. his rhythm turns erratic as your moans get louder, the hot air in the small space too thick for you to catch your breath.

“sweet girl, with an even sweeter little cunt, yeah?” he drawls, accent turning thicker as he licks into your mouth and presses sloppy kisses onto your lips in between words. “taking my cock like a champ, baby. taking me like a good girl.”

“please, jake. need to cum.” you cry weakly, looking up at him with glassy eyes.

“cum for me, sweetheart. make me all messy.”

you obey his words with a muffled cry as he cradles your head into his neck, trying to make sure no one hears your sounds of pleasure.

he tries his best to hold on long enough to fuck you through your high before he pulls out, fisting his own cock.

you don’t want to miss it, falling on your weak knees and opening your mouth to stick out your tongue, looking up at him and begging with your eyes for him to give it to you.

jake can’t even speak as his hands moves in a blur, the only cognitive thought in his mind how pretty you look kneeling for him, begging for his cum, before he’s unloading into your mouth.

you take it all, swallowing and leaning forward to suck on his tip like a lollipop after, licking him clean.

once jake is able to get himself together and your legs feel a little less like jello, who helps you stand and get dressed.

you laugh once you’re both fully clothed, watching jake clean his glasses lens with his shirt.

“what?” jake smiles tiredly, straightening his polo. “do i look normal?” and like we didn’t just fuck in the janitor’s closet?

“no,” you giggle, shaking your head as you reach up to comb through his very tousled hair. “okay, that’s better.”

“thank you.” jake smiles tenderly, making that funny feeling in your stomach present again before he presses a quick kiss to your lips. “i’ll text you, baby.”

“o-….okay…” you mumble, jake giggling as he thinks your dazed look is just because you’re still a little fucked dumb.

“you want me to slip out first?”

“um, yeah.” you answer, watching jake peek out the door before flashing you one more sweet smile before he’s out, shutting the door behind him.

you don’t know what you’re going to do.

(❤︎)

“dude, just ask her out already.” jay says as he lays down to spread out on jake’s bed like a star fish.

“i am!” jake insists, accepting that he’s probably not going to get anymore studying done when jay’s in his bedroom yapping away. shutting his laptop, jake swivels his desk chair around and quirks a brow at how jay lays on his bed like he owns it.

“then do it! what are you waiting for?”

“i just don’t want to overwhelm her, i think if i move too fast it’ll scare her. but…i think I’m gonna ask her tonight.”

jay sits up on his elbows. “you’re inviting her?” he asks, referring to the game night the boys were planning to have with heeseung at their place.

“yeah. i’ve already asked her, she says she can come after some cheer event she’s doing today.”

“wow…” jay sighs, now looking a little surprised as he processes.

“what?”

“i can’t believe you got a cheerleader girlfriend before me or heeseung.”

jake starts to be offended before he smirks, standing up from his chair and combing his hair out of his face.

“that’s because i’m sexy and smart. now take the L and help me clean up before she gets here.”

(❤︎)

it’s 8:00 pm when you finally get to jake and jay’s house, jake waiting for you by the door.

“hi, how was the event?”

“it was good. they had us outside all day but the weather wasn’t too warm.”

“good!” jake smiles as he opens the door for you and leads you to the living room. “ready to beat these guys in a game with me?”

“i really suck at video games, jake.” you laugh just as you walk into the room, seeing jay and heeseung sitting at the sofa.

jake sees heeseung’s eyes light up when he sees you, and jake feels a bit annoyed— then guilty. heeseung doesn’t know about you and jake, the australian not having time to tell him about your ‘thing’ before you showed up.

“hey, y/n! come sit.” jay invites.

you move to sit down on the couch, the only space available being next to heeseung. jake sits against your legs, his cuddly nature making you blush and feel a little self conscious while in front of everyone else, moving your legs to criss-cross them on the cushion instead.

something about being at their house with heeseung over again, in this room, makes you think about what you’ve been trying not to this entire time: what jake said.

do they all think you’re a player?

do they know about you and jake’s hookups?

if the answer is yes, then they probably also think you’re just with jake to get in his pants, to chew him up and spit him out.

but what do you really want?…and what…what does jake want?

you’ve felt off since the classroom incident, and you thought maybe hanging out casually would make you feel better, but it seems to only be making it worse.

“y/n?”

heeseung concerned voice snaps you out of your head and you look at him. he’s holding out a gaming controller for you, and you take it, the object feeling a bit big in your hands.

“here,” jake offers gently, turning around from his place on the floor as he positions your hands over the controller. “it’ll probably be easier for you to hold it like this.”

“thanks.” you say unconsciously soft, probably because of the proximity between you and jake’s faces.

he smiles that cute smile at you again, the one that makes his eyes sparkle, and you feel legitimately sick.

“do you want me to explain the game to you?” heeseung offers.

“i can,” jake starts to interrupt, but you stop him as you gesture for him to sit back down.

“it’s fine, jake. hee’s right here.”

you hope the excuse of heeseung sitting right next to you is a good enough excuse for why you don’t want jake coddling over you. you just…you can’t think clearly with him near right now.

once you start the multi player game and you go for a few rounds, heeseung starts getting kinda touchy with you. first letting his thighs touch yours, which is probably unconscious. the sofa is rather squishy and deep, it’s easy to sink into it— and thus, you. but then he starts smiling at you a lot and praising you whenever you do something right. you try not to encourage heeseung’s treatment while also ignoring how jake keeps turning to take peeks at you together.

very unexpectedly, you find a few advantage items and end up winning a round, heeseung throwing up his arms in excitement while jay loudly cheers.

“that was awesome, y/n!” heeseung says before wrapping you in an unexpected hug. you smile proudly at yourself, returning his quick hug.

“y/n and i will go get some drinks.” jake abruptly announces in a low tone before grabbing your arm and pulling you away from heeseung.

“jake. jake! why are you pulling me?” you say as he continues down the hall, not looking or speaking to you until you get to the kitchen.

“what was that?” he asks demandingly after spinning around to face you, eyes hard and looking at you angrily.

“what was what?”

“you and heeseung!”

“there is no me and heeseung, jake.” you sigh, rubbing your temples as you feel a headache coming on. this whole evening has honestly been nothing but stressful, and you’re starting to regret coming.

“well it sure looked like you were a thing…i thought we…”

he trails off and your heart full on stops, eyes wide as you stare at jake.

“you thought…what?” you ask, scared out of your mind.

“i like you.” jake says softly, looking up from the floor to gaze at you with hopeful eyes. “and i think…i think you like me too, right?”

you take a few deep breaths, brows furrowing as panic and fear take over the rational part of your brain.

“you sure you want to like the ‘typical dumb cheerleader’?” you air quote, jake’s face falling as your eyes already start to sting.

“oh my god, you heard that? baby, i’m so, so sorry. i-…i don’t think that now, i was being an asshole.”

despite how hard you try to keep them at bay, to blink them back, to keep the angry facade up— you can’t. your walls finally crumble down as you cry into your hands, letting the ache that’s been slowly growing in your heart over these past few weeks take over your whole chest.

“you- you don’t still think i’m a h- heartbr- break-“

you can’t even get a full sentence out between your crying and gasps of air, jake coming closer with open arms to wrap you in a hug, to squeeze you against his warm chest.

“no, no, no. sweet girl, oh my god.” he says almost like it’s to himself, before he’s culling your damp cheeks.

“c’mon, baby. look at me?” he coos sadly, and you do, putting aside your shame and lifting your face, watching his regretful eyes flit over your teary orbs and broken expression.

“i am so sorry that the harsh, untruthful words i said hurt you so badly, and i’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to apologize. i was legitimately an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve it. i had you pinned down in my head of who i thought you were and i treated you differently because of it, when i didn’t even bother getting to know you. and i’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

jake tries to wipe away the tears that slip down your cheeks as you try to calm down, still hurt but feeling better after his words.

“you- you don’t think i’m a bad person? because- because i honestly wouldn’t blame you if you did.” you dare to ask.

“no!” jake states firmly. “no, baby. you’re not and i don’t think that. i think you’re kind and generous. hardworking and smart. beautiful and funny and so, so easy to fall for.”

“jake…” you whisper, cheeks burning as you attempt to hide you face in his chest. but jake doesn’t let you, cupping your jaw in his palms as he nuzzles his nose against yours.

“do you like me, poms?” he whispers nervously, breath fanning over your lips as you feel like you’re about to drown from the depth of emotions he manages to hold in his eyes.

“i…i do, jake. i really, really like you.”

jake smiles, teeth biting at his bottom lip to try and contain it.

“but,” you’re quick to say when jake starts to lean in, halting his actions. “i…i need time…to think. i…”

“it’s okay, y/n. you don’t have to explain it to me. i’ll wait for you.” jake whispers, staring forlornly at your lips, but not moving. “even if you tell me not to, i’d still wait for you.”

your heart skips a beat and you pull away, afraid you’ll lose your resolve and dive into his kiss if you don’t.

“okay. i’ll…i’ll see you, jake.”

“see you, y/n.” jake smiles, but despite trying his best, it doesn’t make it to his eyes. you walk out of the kitchen before fleeing from his house, speeding to your dorm and collapsing onto your bed and bursting into sobs.

(❤︎)

3 days.

3 days, going on four, since you’ve spoken to jake. you know he’s trying really hard not to overwhelm you, to resist coming over and talking to you, but you still catch staring at you in class when he thinks you don’t notice.

you do.

you notice him, always.

you want to go to him, you miss him so much. but it’s feels like there’s chains of fear wrapped around your heart, weighing you down and tugging you away from him.

you’re walking across campus in the afternoon to go back to your dorm, feeling like a zombie like you have been since you last spoke to jake.

you run into something with stops your lazy, slow steps, looking up to see felix staring wide at you.

“oh, y/n! hey!”

“h-hi! sorry, lix.” you apologize for running into him, trying to sound at least half as chipper as him.

“that’s alright. so, jay told me about you and jake,” he implores in a teasing way, nudging your arm with his elbow as he smiles. “how’s that going?”

it takes you a few seconds to feel the pain in your heart at simply hearing his name before you start crying, felix almost flinching back in surprise as you try to wipe your tears away as quickly as they come.

“i’m- i’m so sorry, felix. i’m a mess right now.”

“hey, hey, it’s okay, y/n. why don’t we sit down and you can tell me about it.”

felix wraps a comforting arm around your shoulder and leads you to sit down at a nearby bench. taking a gentle hold of your hand, he encourages you to tell him what happened.

and you do, you tell him everything. from the very beginning to the very end.

“i just- i don’t know what to do, felix. i like him so much it scares me. i’ve never let- let somebody get this close to me this fast before.” you sniffle. “and i just- i can’t stop thinking about how much it would hurt this time, because- because i think if i let myself be with him, i’ll never want to leave.”

“oh, y/n.” felix sighs, pulling you in for a hug. “don’t you see? jake is an amazing guy, and you like him. which isn’t a reason to leave, it’s a reason to stay, to keep going and not give up. don’t you get it?”

he asks, looking you in the eyes as you feel his words click something into place in your brain. it isn’t a reason to leave, it’s why you should stay.

“don’t give him up, y/n.” felix urges softly. your heart squeezes with undeniable fondness, reaching forward to wrap the boy in a tight hug of your own.

“you’re right. thank you, felix.”

“it’s okay, y/n. go get your man.” he smiles genuinely.

“and felix?” you begin as you pull away to look him in the eyes.

“yeah?”

“i’m sorry, lixie.” you apologize, and he knows what for.

“i know, y/n.” felix’s voice wavers at the unexpected sentiment, but his sunshine disposition still remains. “i’m happy now. we’re okay. all is forgiven.”

you know it’s not a good enough apology despite his words, but you’ll find another time to properly say sorry, to give him the apology he deserves. but for now, you give him one more tight squeeze before running off to find jake.

he’s not working at the cafe today, all his classes are usually over by now and there’s no basketball practice for him to tag along to, so the only other place you can think to go look is his house.

when you messily park in the driveway and knock at the door, it’s a bewildered jay that answers.

“oh, y/n! he’s- jake’s walking layla right now.”

“do you know which direction he went?”

jay points and you take off down his neighborhood sidewalk, jay watching you disappear around a corner with his jaw slightly open in confusion, finger still raised, before he shrugs his shoulders and goes back inside with a mumbled little ‘whatever’ to himself.

your running turned to jogging, and now you’re sluggishly walking, your exhaustion and the sight of the sun setting making you lose hope as you stare down at your own feet that lazily step on the pavement.

what if jake doesn’t even want you anymore? did you already mess it up?

an echoed voice carries down the street and you lift your head, the tone of it sounding familiar. turning the corner one more time, your heart feels like it’s been brought back to life when you see jake and layla in the distance.

jake crouches in front of layla, the dog looking bored and tiredly panting as he raises his hand to scratch behind her ears, giving her a sad little smile.

“sorry, girl…i know. i miss her too.”

something tugs you forward, those heavy chains that were previously around your heart broken and unable to hold you back anymore.

“jake!” you call, jake looking up to your approaching figure.

“y/n?”

your slow steps turn to running when jake opens his arms, practically catching you with how you leap into his embrace.

“y/n?” he repeats, looking deep into your eyes like he can’t believe he’s feeling your smaller body in his arms right now, seeing you so up close again.

you wrap your arms around his neck and crash your lips into his, jake immediately kissing you back with just as much fever. your tongues lick into each other’s mouth like you haven’t tasted the other in ages, jake raising a hand to cup your cheek and press you impossible closer.

“jake,” you gasp in air after fighting to part from jake’s eager lips.

“sweetheart.” jake practically coos, eyes half-lidded and sounding love drunk as he spares you only a moment before he’s kissing you again.

“jake!” you pull away again, your attempt to sound scolding failing due to your little giggles that give your true emotions away. but how can you not when jake’s ticklish butterfly kisses are being peppered across your neck.

“let me talk!”

“hurry.” jake whines, pressing to more pecks to your lips.

“i- i wanna stay! i want to be with you.”

“i wanna be with you too, babygirl.” jake whispers fondly, staring into your eyes and how they capture the sunset’s shining rays. it’s the prettiest sunset he’s ever seen, viewing it in this way. “does this mean you’ll be mine?”

“i think i’ve been yours for a while already, jakey.”

jake’s like a kid at a candy store with your lips right in front of him. you’re unable to enjoy his absolutely gorgeous smile from your words for more than a second before his lips are attached to yours again, capturing you in another passionate kiss.

you whine into it, pushing at his chest much to jake’s displeasure.

“but i’m probably still gonna get scared sometimes.”

“i know, baby.”

a kiss.

“and- and i’m good at communicating but-“

another.

“sometimes i need encouragement.”

“i can do that, sweetheart.” he promises with another deep kiss. you push him away again.

“but, jake?”

he smiles with a defeated groan, leaning his head onto your shoulder before he looks at you.

“yeah, sweetie?”

“what if i…did try? to run away again.” you ask, not because you think you will, but because you want to know his answer.

he answers easily, like it’s a no brainer for him.

“then i’d chase after you every time.”

“…promise?”

“i promise.”

(❤︎)

jake doesn’t even take layla’s leash off when you bust through the front door, barely taking the time to shut it behind him before he’s picking you up, giggling at your adorable squeal and how your legs wrap around his waist without thinking.

you don’t even stop kissing as he blindly carries and maneuvers you around the house, feeling for his bedroom door knob with his one hand and opening it successfully.

he walks forward until he feels the frame of his bed against his shins and sets you down gently, finally detaching from your lips to gaze at you and how gorgeous you look laying in his bed, staring up at him with so much cb affection in your eyes that it has his cock twitching.

“what?” you smile, feeling a little squirmy under his gaze, but you remain still.

“nothing…you’re just so beautiful.”

your cheeks burn, biting at your smile as you move to take off your clothes. jake rushes to do the same, though it takes him a little longer as he has to stop every few moments to watch you strip.

you rub your thighs together with a moan as you see jake’s throbbing length, it’s pretty pink tip shining with his excitement.

“oh my god, baby. i don’t wanna go a day without you ever again. seeing you, talking to you, kissing you, fucking you. shit, m’gonna make you take my cock every day from now on.”

“please, jake, just put it in.” you whine, spreading open your legs and causing jake’s eyes to almost pop out of his skull.

“damn, baby.” he marvels, kneeling up on the bed as he comes closer to you, caressing his hands up and down your thighs as he stares at your pussy.

“jaaake, fuck me!”

“be patient, babygirl.” he warns with a small yet stinging slap to your thigh. “i will. but i gotta taste you first.”

he makes a spot for himself between your legs, laying on his belly before spreading open your pussy with his two, long fingers. clear slick webs between, jake shuddering out a heated ‘fuck’ before going in to lick it up with his tongue.

“oh god,” you whimper, raising your hands to your face, embarrassed by how wet you already are and how jake’s slurping every bit of it into his mouth.

“mmm,” jake hums disapprovingly, departing from your pussy only for a moment. “dont don’t do that. wanna watch my baby’s face while i eat her out.”

then jake goes back down to slowly push his tongue inside your entrance, your thighs twitching with the unexpected intrusion.

“j-jake!” you cry as he falls into a rhythm, rubbing your sopping clit while he fucks you with his tongue, big brown eyes staring you down as you find yourself unable to look away.

“o- oh, ffuck!”

your hands grip up the sheets into a fist, toes curling as jake’s incessant licking into your cunt and the perfect little circles he rubs into your clit makes you come more and more undone.

jake groans in pleasure at your own, the sound sending vibrations straight to your core and causing your entire body to flinch as you cry out.

“i- i think m’gonna cum already if you don’t stop, jake.” you whine, voice high pitched and unlike yourself.

the boy doesn’t stop. in fact, he goes deeper, curling the tip of his tongue into the spongy part of you.

you cum with a cry, legs trembling and squeezing around jake’s head as he happily cleans you up with his mouth.

“mmm, such a messy cunt, baby. taste so good.” jake sighs as he repositions to hover over you body, one hand stroking over his dick as he spreads your left over juices from his fingers across it.

he reaches across to his night stand, you presume to get out a condom.

“don’t. want- want you to fuck me raw, please? m’on the pill.”

“…holy shit.” jake murmurs, wide eyed.

he leans on his elbows, dipping closer to your face as you watch how his eyes roam over your every feature, taking in your beauty in the same way as you’re taking in his right now.

“my pretty girl, my good girl...” he gives you that smile that used to make you sick, but now it has butterflies in your stomach and your pussy clenching.

“mine.” jake whispers proudly, rubbing his nose against yours as he pushes inside of you slowly.

“how-“ you struggle, interrupted by your and jake’s moans as his dick is sucked in by your greedy cunt. “how do you talk so sweet when- when you’re doing bad things?”

jake just responds with an out of breath chuckle, bracing himself with a hand to your hip, groping and squeezing at your soft flesh.

as he starts thrusting into you, deep and slow, you feel like all the air has been knocked out of you.

you don’t know why, maybe it’s the angle or how he’s looking at you, maybe it’s because you just came or the emotional high of being reunited. all you know is that it only takes a few minutes for you to be trembling and whimpering into jake’s sheets as he fucks you dumb.

jake’s latched onto your tits— of course, moaning and whining as he slobbers all over your chest like your nipples taste like candy. and they might as well be, because to jake they’re that good.

“mmm, jakey, please. please. m’so close.”

jake is no better off than you, sweat glistening on his skin and his hips start to erratically buck into yours, his pants and your whimpers filling his bedroom.

“yeah, baby? my cock make you feel good?”

“y- yes!”

“y’gonna let me have this cunt every day, sweetheart? take my cum every day?”

“yes, baby, yes!” you either against the sheets, twisting your head to the side from the overwhelming pleasure as you try to hold back your oncoming orgasm, waiting for his permission. “gotta cum, jakey.”

“no, no, sweetie. gotta look at me first, babygirl.” he gently orders in a way that makes your stomach flip, holding your chin between his thumb and fingers before turning your head back to look at him. he brushes your hair out of your face, greeted with your glossy eyes and pouty lips, begging for him to have mercy.

“there she is. there’s my little girl.” he trembles out, biting his bottom lip and forcing his eyes to stay open and look at you, even as the pleasure gets too much. “look so cute while you’re falling apart on my cock.”

“pl-please…jake! need- need’ta-“

“let go, sweetheart. cum with me, baby.”

jake seals your lips with a kiss to suppress the cry you let out as you reach your highs together, trembling bodies holding out for as long as you can to ride out your orgasm.

jake collapses on the bed and cuddles you into his chest, hands brushing through your hair and making sure none of it is in your face.

jake’s phone dings with a text, and he leans over to pick it up. you watch his pretty, brown eyes as he reads the screen, before his lips quirk up in a smirk.

“what?” you ask.

“jay…he‘a asking if we’re done fucking yet.”

“oh my god!” you whine with embarrassment, burying your face into jake’s chest even further as he giggles.

“it’s okay. he said he figured he should put on some noise canceling headphones and make himself scarce when you came by looking for me.”

“still embarrassing…” you mumble, jake cupping your face to lift your head up and press a kiss to your forehead, then your lips.

“m’so glad you found me.” he confesses softly. you smile.

“i think we found each other.”

“mmm,” jake hums, resting his forehead against yours, looking at you like he can’t get enough of you. you’re sure you look the same.

“never gonna be able to go without my dumb little cheerleader girlfriend again.” he smiles teasingly, referencing to his previous harsh words he said about you.

it’s so funny how things can change when you really get to know someone. when you give them a chance.

“and i’m never gonna be able to go without my nerdy little boyfriend again.”

“hey,” he laughs, no real feelings other than happiness behind it. jake sits up on his elbows, caging you in to press a sweet, long kiss to your lips.

he pulls away just enough to be able to look into your eyes as he whispers.

“that was mean, pom-poms.”

you huff, shaking your head with a smile as your hands move to run through his hair, pulling him in for probably the hundredth and definitely not last kiss of the night.

“jerk.”

note) wow, you made it through! i really hope you enjoyed reading my baby 😭

i tried to make reader a lovable character with layers that some might find relatable/comforting, and that she didn’t seem like a pick me. so i hope that came across. the subject of being afraid of emotional intimacy while at the same time desperately wanting it is something that i struggle with myself. also the anxiety of letting someone see you wholly for who you are, and them still loving you. it’s horrific and scary but beautiful if you only let yourself be vulnerable enough.

the reason i ended it with reader still having anxieties and even saying ‘what if i try to run away again’. is because it’s not happily ever after once you’ve found your person, and reader’s problems aren’t going to magically go away because she ‘got the guy’. she’ll keep learning and growing and making mistakes. but the difference is she has someone in her corner who will be with her through it. hence jake saying ‘then i’ll chase after you’.

at some points i thought the dialogue might seem cheesy, but this is based in the way that i/my friends talk and conversations that i’ve had. so…take that how you want. maybe me and my circle is cheesy lol.

pleaaassseee leave a review/ask/comment- whatever. as i said this is my baby and im curious to see whatever you have to say about this work, what it made you feel or think about, and also answer any questions!! i have these characters pretty fleshed out so i’d like to think i have the answers lol.

thank you again for reading!! — jaz

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒!

(♡) - my personal favorites (🔞) - CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT

NEW BEGINNINGS - @ikeuverse (flirting with your brother's brother-in-law wasn't in your plans after returning from studying abroad. it wasn't something you were going to stop either since heeseung was the epitome of beauty. but when there's another woman's name in the story. what happens? you don't want to be caught between a betrayal… or so you thought.) (♡)

MARRY ME - @ikeuverse (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)

TIDES OF REGRET - @pprodsuga (in the year since heeseung first rejected your love confession, you've tried everything to get over him. a trip to europe makes you realize you miss your former best friend more than anything, and it makes heeseung realize he's got it all wrong.) (♡)(🔞)

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER - @i2sunric (your daughter asks heeseung to tell the greatest love story of all and he takes the chance to narrate how he met you, the love of his life.) (♡)

JUNE BLOSSOMS - @soobnny (synopsis. as the month of may ends, you wonder what june holds for you and heeseung (especially with no more need to fake date.)

LATE SUMMER LOVIN' - @4am-enha (you desperately want to spend your last summer here in town with your friends, only to find out almost all of them are away on vacation. that is, all of them but heeseung. the one friend you’d never really been that close with.)

BITE ME - @drunkhazed (“I’m kind of confused still.” You admit, anxiously shuffling to sit without making eye-contact. Heeseung chuckles plopping down by your side, arm slinging back over your shoulder to keep you pressed against him.)(🔞)

COFFEE & CREAM - @ham-st4r (one chilly night after a long work shift, you’re unfortunately forced to walk home. Cause you left your bag at work, half way through your journey you stumble across a homeless man who you naturally offer money to, and he though he refuses. You give it to him anyway, and down the road, you’ll find that those two dollars changed not only his life but yours as well.) (🔞)

IT'S CUPID, STUPID - @mygnolia (To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?)

FUCK BUDDIES - @dimepdf (y/n and heeseung and fwb after heeseung win in his football match y/n gives him the best reward)

TEETH - @gyuuberryy (you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy.)

PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM - @simpjaes (You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off.) (🔞)

RUDE - @4wkjun (heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.)

I OFFER YOU MY EVERYTHING - @heegyukeluv (You never cared about sex, until you did. You grew too afraid of it, scared of disappointing the other person or showing your inexperience. But then you met Heeseung, the hot basketball captain that stole your heart and became your biggest fantasy. ) (🔞)

VERBOTEN - @heesbaby (a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.) (🔞) (♡)

10 DAYS TO FALL IN LOVE - @luvyeni (you and heeseung used to be bestfriends as children — he even told you he'd marry you one day. but then you went to highschool and things changed , he dyed his hair and started hanging out with a new group group of friends. through all that his love never changed for you — has yours changed for him?)

RENT A BOYFRIEND - @jayujus (in which jeon y/n is desperate to find a boyfriend ASAP because she needs a date for her family's mixer. her best friend, ningning, introduces her to a website perfect for this situation!)

CHERRY CHAPSTICK - @angelwonie (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)

Not so hidden| Jake sim

Synopsis : what happens when your brother's best friend's fall in love with you and tries to court you every time he gets.

Warning: Fluff, poor attempt to humour and angst

LOVE ON AiR

SYNOPSiS » two podcast groups, both equally popular on the internet, start interacting with one another. however it isnt how fans want it to be.. OR yn sees sunghoon hating on lauryn hill and accidentally starts an entire fanwar with him.

PAiRiNG » sunghoon x fem!reader

FEAUTRiNG » all of enha, giselle of aespa, txt briefly mentioned

GENRE » smau (social media au), fluff, angst, enemies to lovers (barely), chronically online humor, romance, podcast au, influencer au, HEAVILY inspired from suburb talks and under the influence podcasts, SLOWBURNN

WARNiNGS » profanity, suggestive humor, kys/kms jokes, lots of pop culture references (im chronically online im sorry), drinking, drugs, fanwars, yn haters (BOOOOO), stalking (sorta?) manipulation (NOT FROM SUNGHOON OR Y/N) changes every chapter.

STATUS » updates every day (an attempt), ongoing!

PLAYLiST » your eyes only - enha, after midnight - chappell roan, ex factor - lauryn hill, kiss me - dpr live, read your mind - sabrina carpenter, 3005 - childish gambino, poison poison - renee rapp, thirst - dpr live, just a little bit - enha, daisy - wave to earth, nouvelle vague - wave to earth, thinkin about you - frank ocean. (got carried away .. 😁)

AUTHORS NOTE » BIGGG thanks to my bestest friend ever, my fav british person, @lqfiles , ily so so much and thank you so much for helping me with this process. teaching me how to work tumblr like i was a grandma even tho im only 2 years older than u and making this AMAZING cover (isnt she talented), i love u sooo much more than words can describe, you annoying brit (endearing) 🫶

TAGLiST » @lqfiles @strawberrysavi @blockbusterhee @onlyhyunjin @purennn @jungkit @flwoie @imheretoread @firstclassjaylee @pinkishyng @luvgiselle @kang-ulzzang @cherryxbxmb @jkslvsnella @urslytherin @somerandomf1fan @i03jae @s0urcherry @nshmurarki @kittykangz @hyuckies18 @seungwaitamin @taehyunnzly @luvvhaerin @brii-sunwoos-version @won4kiss @cheridiaries @dissoc1ating @mimismenu @heelovesmeknot @cherryrikis @onlyjungchan @getoxo @enhaz1 @hoshipills @tocupid @xxxnrigi @rairaiblog @dimplewonie @hoonics @vmpivory @lisaswifey @gweoriz @jjhyn @heegyuwrld @dollydigital @mochamvgz @heeseungismymanz @hoonea @sirens-dreams @morkiee @xeee334 @livelaughluvryanreynolds @who-tf-soddhi @velvetkisscs @mitmit01

TAGLIST CLOSED!

written chaps in blue

🔴 RECORDING..

teaser (read first for context!!)

profiles i & profiles ii

1) call my phone a vibrator the way it keeps buzzing

2) YAP CENTRAL EP.135: alpha male podcasts?!

3) first hate thread. feeling nervous

4) pussy slay queen!

5) okay alpha

6) ROUND TABLE EP.149: perfect pitch :o

7) 1 down 3 to go

8) what the fuck is a ynhoon

9) YNXOXO VLOG: night out w/ won and riki

10) wet and bothered

11) just a normal tuesday

12) jungwons evil arc

13) YNXOXO VLOG: cafe date with my girls <3

14) the battle of thirst traps

15) twitch streaming era

16) YAP CENTRAL EP.136: did social media ruin relationships?

17) second interaction: kinda scared

18) fuck skater boys

19) park sunghoon v. round table

20) riki emo era: OVER

21) sunghoons side hoes

22) ROUND TABLE EP.150: we traded phones?!

23) bro define: friend

24) spidey sense

25) on my cellular plan i pay for?

26) YNXOXO VLOG: night time routine + surprise!!

27) he broke no contact?

28) collab of the century

29) YAP CENTRAL EP.137: has love lost its meaning?

30) eyes don’t lie

31) operation: get ynhoon together

32)

33)

34) ROUND TABLE EP. 151: dating in the 21st century

35)

36)

37)

38) YNXOXO VLOG:

more names tba..

UNCUTS

1) operation: get riki ip banned on twt

2) try not to blow up challenge: FAILED

3) JAYS KITCHEN: my friends trying to help me make food blindfolded. (spoiler: it’s a fail)

4)

5) YAP CENTRAL BLOOPERS: riki kat and yn patreon ad

more tba..

© all rights to pshbites 2024

COLLIE DUTY

PAIRING > sim jaeyun x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS > being the new CEO to the ‘Sim Corp’ was hard and stressful. jake didn’t have much time to spend with layla and so he decides to get a dogsitter, you. though, you were originally already his secretary. how will dog sitting bring you two closer?

GENRE > ceo! au + secretary! au / angst, fluff. kinda suggestive bc i make a lot of sexual jokes...

FEATURING > taki from &team, ningning from aespa, gaeul from ive, san & hongjoong from ateez and felix & hyunjin from stray kids. (4th gen it let's get it🤪)

SCHEDULE > updated whenever i can bc my schedule do be messed up :'D

TAGLIST > closed

START: 2 July 2023 | END: 16 Jan 2024

PROFILES: SIM(p) Corp | SHINE STARS

ONE: giving no bitches vibe

TWO: demanding and dominant

THREE: hey man, yolo you know?

FOUR: she’s a cute one [written + pictures]

FIVE: so…who pays for child support?

—if the read more messes up then i'm raging—

SIX: tamama bread as compensation

SEVEN: he hissed at me once

EIGHT: CELEBRATION🎉🎉

NINE: so…got bitches?

TEN: should i 🤔 cry?

ELEVEN: uh oh

TWEVLE: pull down your pants

THIRTEEN: they doing the 👉👌💦

FOURTEEN: angry puppy pt 1 [written]

FIFTEEN: angry puppy pt 2

SIXTEEN: let him think

SEVENTEEN: even Layla don’t want him

EIGHTEEN: jake’s rizz [written]

NINETEEN: it’s-

TWENTY: ‘let me take you out babygirl’

TWENTY-ONE: no girl boss

TWENTY-TWO: clearing up mistakes [written]

TWENTY-THREE: may cause mayhem

TWENTY-FOUR: 🐓 plant

TWENTY-FIVE: when jungwon hyung scolds you

TWENTY-SIX: he’s alpha

TWENTY-SEVEN: bag that 🐓

TWENTY-EIGHT: no meat👎🏻👎🏻

TWENTY-NINE: poopoo head

THIRTY: layla the puptress [written]

THIRTY-ONE: sunghoon at 3am

THIRTY-TWO: the old man‼️

THIRTY-THREE: not again

THIRTY-FOUR: fight for him [written]

THIRTY-FIVE: fair reaction

THIRTY-SIX: intimate yet seductive smell

THIRTY-SEVEN: lawsuit

THIRTY-EIGHT: smack

THIRTY-NINE: [bleats pathetically]

FOURTY: sunghoon maid costume

fin

– alternative ending -

got any questions about the cast or the smau?

COLLIE DUTY: asks

ONE NOTE

PAIRING > sim jaeyun x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS > When you turned 18, you heard your best friend’s favourite song. Turns out, it was just one of the various signs to finding your soulmate. However, you couldn’t bring this up to jake. Not when he was in a happy relationship with your other best friend! Would you choose heartbreak or sacrifice your happiness for the sake of keeping the friendship

GENRE > soulmate au + best friends to lovers / facing a crisis that you don’t want to break the perfect relationship your two best friends have.

FEATURING > leehan and taesan from boynextdoor, an oc for your girl bestie named aria & the rest of enha in your friend group.

SCHEDULE > every two days or so

TAGLIST > send an ask or go here for the google form :)

START: 18 August 2024 | END: tbc

PROFILE: the fam | mental health club

ONE: wingwoman

TWO: souls bonded

THREE: elephant in the room

FOUR: so sorry for your future

FIVE: it's not jake

SIX: i accept it

SEVEN: will we ever be close again?

EIGHT: happy birthday jae

NINE: she's been a nastay gurl

TEN: or was it? [written]

ELEVEN: it's glowing

TWELVE: it's just not fair

THIRTEEN: pretending to be like me

FOURTEEN: hanahaki disease?

FIFTEEN: most touching story [written]

SIXTEEN: aria is a bitch

SEVENTEEN: into you

EIGHTEEN: the first petal [pictures + written]

NINETEEN: I have to ask

TWENTY: it’s kinda suffocating

TWENTY-ONE: no thanks

TWENTY-TWO: candid photo

TWENTY-THREE:

TWENTY-FOUR:

TWENTY-FIVE:

TWENTY-SIX:

TWENTY-SEVEN:

TWENTY-EIGHT:

TWENTY-NINE:

THIRTY:

THIRTY-ONE:

THIRTY-TWO:

THIRTY-TWO:

THIRTY-THREE:

THIRTY-FOUR:

THIRTY-FIVE:

THIRTY-SIX:

THIRTY-SEVEN:

THIRTY-EIGHT:

THIRTY-NINE:

FOURTY:

fin

got any questions to ask the cast or author?

ONE NOTE: asks

I HATE YOU — l.heeseung

PAIRING: best friend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader  GENRES: fluff, humor, smut  WC: 10.7k+

WARNINGS: lots of swearing, arguments, mention of drinking, parties. reports of sex scenes, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (use caution and protection).

SYNOPSIS: you and your best friend's brother hated each other, almost as a matter of course between the two of you. but something changes when you wake up in his bed at the weekend.

NOTES: i think this story has been in my subconscious for so long, idk why it took me so long to write it. it smells a lot like heeseung to me, so nothing was more fitting than doing it for him. i hope you like it!

masterlist

The rule of life is clear when you have a best friend and she has an older brother. Either you fall in love with him, or you don't get along with him and you both hate each other. In your case, more specifically, the second option would fit like a perfect glove. It was like a combo in your background to be best friends with Dahyun, and hate Heeseung, her brother. Not that you'd do it alone, he contributed to every ounce of your body boiling with rage for him.

As if he had been born to unleash the purest feeling of rage in your heart just by entering the room and breathing. But it wasn't as if you nurtured that alone either. Heeseung had the same great anger towards you because, according to him, it was because of you that Dahyun stopped being the innocent little girl she was.

It wasn't a good excuse compared to the times he'd taken you seriously. Still, even so, Heeseung felt angry just being in your presence and knowing that you went to his house and he couldn't do anything but make you angry until he heard you swear at him or try to throw something in his direction. Dahyun was the balance bridge to try to maintain an ounce of harmony between the two of you while you were all together, although it was almost impossible to maintain a pleasant atmosphere whenever you and Heeseung were in the same environment. Which was practically all day long.

There wasn't a single moment when you could get rid of him or he of you, because unfortunately – or fortunately – you were Dahyun's best friend. You met her before you even knew that your best friend had a completely asshole brother. He swore that Dahyun having a friendship would be a quiet thing because she was never one to have many friends. Heeseung would be lying to say that he wasn't looking forward to meeting the first person his younger sister had befriended after entering university.

He just didn't expect you to be introduced to him when Dahyun had her first binge at the frat party, with you holding her hair and introducing yourself as her best friend.

So it's this crazy girl who's my sister's friend? Heeseung's anger may have started first, but you certainly felt it more intensely as the months went by.

Heeseung always found you with Dahyun at insane moments, like the pool party where you lent your best friend your most revealing bikini. That night you threw him into the pool because you two argued, but before you could regret it, he pulled you in with him, getting you wet before you could show off your hours of hard work to maintain the beautiful, wavy hair that took so long to make.

War had been declared, and at every party you and Heeseung attended, something always happened to emphasize how the two of you couldn't stay on the same radar and in the same environment for so long.

Not this last time.

The remnants of last night invaded your mind like a little dream, where you knew it was far from a fantasyland. Friday night was party day at some frat house or at some rich person's house who could afford to buy drinks for a bunch of horny, partying college kids. You and Dahyun always went together, because at the end of the night, you would sleep at her house. And of course that happened. You just didn't expect to be in another Lee's bed.

You took a deep breath after you realized what had happened, remembering the exact moment when you argued with Heeseung. Nothing new for the two of you. But that night something seemed different about the way you and he argued about absolutely everything, like the amount of drink he poured himself. Or how you had accepted a drink from a guy who had handed you a glass because he was going to play and didn't want to drink anymore, Heeseung had scolded you for being reckless and, even if you were, if that had made him angry, then you had done the right thing.

But why were his eyes dark and shiny when he cornered you in the kitchen to swear at you? And why did you lean too far towards him when he tried to take the glass from your hand? The reason was canonized at that moment, with you wrapped in Heeseung's sheets.

The memory of his lips pressing down hard on yours to shut you up, your body almost turning to porridge when he softened to kiss you properly. And why on earth did you give in? Why did you kiss him back looking like you needed it? Your mind knew you did, but never, under any circumstances, would the two of you say that that need was blatant and that you were both waiting for what had happened.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted when a weight slid around your waist. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you close. You effortlessly felt Heeseung's chest pressing against your back. Your whole body stiffened for a few seconds but relaxed – without any explanation – when his hand rested on your stomach and his breath hit the back of your neck.

That breath you felt against your lips after he kissed you, as he whispered one last curse when he took you to his car and then brought you to his house. Heeseung's breath against your skin with every touch he made, with every kiss, sent shivers down your spine. You didn't want to think about the effects he had caused in just one night, while all those months later the only thing you felt for him was anger and disgust. But no, last night it was anything but that that you felt for each other.

You began to wonder how you were going to get out of there. Or worse, how you were going to bump into Dahyun and explain to her that, strangely enough, you had ended up in her brother's bed. It couldn't have been an accident because neither of you got drunk enough to blame it on alcohol, so what? What would you say when asked why you slept with Heeseung?

An involuntary sigh left your lips when he moved again, pressing you a little closer and nestling his face in the crook of your neck. Inhaling all your scent as if it were normal and he'd done it a million times before.

“It's not possible that you're actually doing this” your voice came out without thinking, not at all cordial or subtle as he continued to inhale your scent. You wanted to curse yourself even more as soon as you heard Heeseung's morning laugh. Rude, low, a real sin for your poor body that was processing everything that was still going on.

“What? I don't even get a good morning?” he asked in the same tone as the laugh and every word coming out of his mouth was truly a sin. You'd seen Heeseung after waking up countless times, but it wasn't as if you saw him seconds later as was happening now. Usually, it was a while later, his voice was normal at least, although his face was puffy from sleep and his hair slightly mussed. But it was nothing compared to what you were hearing at that moment.

“You're an idiot, you little shit” your hand went over his hand that was still on your stomach, trying to pull it away “I hate you, now let me go.”

As expected, Heeseung did the opposite of what you asked. Pulling you closer to him and, with the strength he was holding you with, he managed to turn you around and make your body face him.

“You hated moaning my name last night” he smiled with half-lidded eyes “Now why are you playing hard to get?” there was the Heeseung you remembered hating, even though he was so hot in a sleepy, lazy way. You held back with your hands to pull his face in and kiss him, messing up his hair even more and getting lost in those lips that were claimed as yours last night.

“Because—” your voice died right there, you had no answer to that. You didn't know why you were playing hard to get after having slept with him of your own free will.

The victorious smile on Heeseung's lips made you slap his chest, feeling the skin beneath your fingers. Remembering how you touched him and how he felt every shiver go through him every time your fingers slid across him and interspersed with your nails. Heeseung knew that some part of his body was marked by you, but he honestly didn't care.

Your eyes rolled down as soon as you noticed that he was shirtless, looking under the covers as much as you could. He wasn't wearing anything over it and didn't even seem to care about covering his chest when your eyes locked on the spot, your hands still gripping his chest ready to slap it again in case any silly jokes were made. But your face heated up when you noticed that, if he wasn't wearing a T-shirt, you were wearing his.

Heeseung noticed the way you recorded it all, and although it was amusing, he remembered how hot you had looked after putting on his T-shirt to sleep. With nothing underneath, just his clothes covering the curves of your body that he touched, kissed, and marked. And he'd be a dead man if he confessed that he wanted to do it all over again.

“You didn't like wearing my shirt?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled between the two of you “Just take it off, I remember you're not wearing anything underneath anyway.”

“I hate you!” you let out a shriek, hitting him in the chest again before pulling the covers off your body so you could get out of bed in search of your clothes.

“Right, if it makes you sleep better at night, then I hate you too” he muttered, rolling his body across the bed to lie where you had been seconds before. Secretly smelling your scent on his pillow, as you searched for your clothes on his bedroom floor at that moment.

Hearing about the fine line between modern and contemporary art history was wonderful for you, one of your favorite classes. The grace with which the professor explained it so passionately, highlighting important points that you made a point of writing down in your notebook with a lilac-colored pen that Dahyun had lent you at the beginning of the class. It took up most of your thoughts from the moment you arrived on campus, taking your focus away from the fact that a few days ago you were lying on Heeseung's bed. And now you were sitting next to his sister sharing one of your classes.

Your thoughts traveled to another subject now… Did Dahyun know that you and Heeseung had had sex? It wouldn't be something to hide from your best friend, having heard from her a few times that the two of you had some kind of repressed hard-on. Of course, that made you and Heeseung even angrier, but it turned out to be true last weekend.

Dahyun was right, after all, and you didn't want her to be. Or did you?

“Y/n” she called your name in a whisper, making you turn your head to face her “The boys are waiting for us in the study room, do you want to go now or do you want to stop by for coffee?”

Back to the normal schedule where you would have to live with Heeseung and try to put aside what had happened between the two of you. Or at least try to. Carry on with your routine and chores and not pay attention to him like you always did.

Class ended and you felt your body dragging alongside Dahyun through the corridors to the campus cafeteria. It wasn't a long way, but dividing your energy between the class and the thoughts that flooded your mind had left you tired. The salted caramel coffee you always ordered might have some effect on your body right now.

And you were more than right.

After paying for the drink and some treats, the straw rolled around your lips as you sipped the drink that was your comfort. You could hear Dahyun's laughter every time the taste of coffee impregnated your tongue and you moaned with satisfaction. The whole way to the study room was filled with these moments that the two of you shared as you sipped your drinks and tried to balance the takeaway bags.

“Am I seeing a mirage or did you bring food?” Jay almost knelt to thank you and Dahyun when you entered the study room.

“Are you guys hungry or something?” she asked, stepping in front and placing the bag of food on the small table around some cushioned armchairs.

“Our class finished early and someone forgot to stop by the convenience store” Sunghoon sat down on the floor, legs crossed and his face almost shoved into one of the bags to look for something that interested him. Finding a filled brownie, he took it without asking permission, even though he didn't need to.

“He's in over his head, isn't he?” Jake nudged Heeseung, who had been quiet the whole time since you and Dahyun arrived.

Looking at your best friend, you saw her sit down next to Jake as if it were something mechanized as if she had to be there without any kind of effort. It was cute how close the two of them always were. But your mind went into overdrive because as she sat next to him, the only seat left was next to Heeseung.

“What?” he asked, shaking his body at the slight shock Jake had caused him. Adjusting his posture in the armchair, Heeseung swallowed as soon as he felt a weight next to him, indicating that you had sat there.

“You forgot to stop by the convenience store to pick up some food” Jay grumbled “What are you thinking, man? You haven't answered us since you came to class today.”

Playing the misunderstood had been a mutual agreement with everyone in the room. They had seen you and Heeseung leave together, but if neither of you had mentioned anything, none of them would do it. Playing the game of not knowing anything about you and him was the best thing. At least until that moment.

“I'm just sleepy, don't fight me” Heeseung grumbled, stretching more than usual so that he could annoy you, as he had done ever since the two of you met. He could hear you taking a deep breath next to him, holding back a little so as not to swear at him before the study session even started.

Heeseung mentally thanked his friends for the lame excuse he'd given, because they all started to engage in side conversations as he slipped a glance in your direction. Your fingers held the coffee cup with a certain lightness, your thumb circling the cardboard that was possibly warm against his skin. Heeseung suppressed a smile, thinking about how your fingers had touched his body a few days ago.

He didn't want to think about anything involving the night you two had spent together, but even though it was recent, seeing you so close hit him hard. It was as if his mind betrayed him the very moment you sat down next to him and did the bare minimum to be noticed. There was no way Heeseung could think of anything other than you. The way you brought the cup to your lips and drank the coffee, for example. It made him think of your mouth kissing him, how easily your lips turned red as the kiss got more and more intense. How your mouth looked like the perfect shape of his cock when you wrapped it around you and sucked it, giving him the best blowjob of his life.

Fuck Heeseung, stop thinking about it. He told himself, or he'd get turned on just associating every single thing you did with the way he had you in his room, under his body, and in his bed.

The only way to make his thoughts go away and him not think like that was to irritate you, bring up the atmosphere of the argument you had with him, and thus get his friends to intervene and completely change the course of Heeseung's thoughts. And the way he thought was by taking the coffee cup from your hand, bringing it to his lips, and taking the last sip.

“Hey” you said loudly enough, trying not to shout because the study room was next to the university library “You ruined my coffee, you idiot.”

“I was thirsty, sorry” Heeseung pouted his lips, feeling the taste of salted caramel all over his tongue. He ran the tip of his tongue between his lips to wipe away any coffee residue. He just didn't expect your attention to be on his mouth. Without hesitation, your eyes traced the path of his mouth and the way his tongue traced his lower lip. That sparked something inside Heeseung because it showed that you were thinking along the same lines as he was.

“You're a real idiot” you said quietly this time, trying to look away as Heeseung bit his lower lip.

He leaned in a little but didn't manage to get close enough to tease you because he felt the famous slap on the chest that you gave him when he said something stupid. Ever since that morning in his bed.

“Ouch, that hurt” he cringed, dodging the next slap you'd give him. For the first time, the dynamic between you and Heeseung was a little closer and more physical. Usually, the two of you didn't sit near each other or you couldn't get there in time to hit him, Jay or Sunghoon always managed to hold you back first.

“Hey, stop it, you two” Jake broke off from an interesting conversation he was having with Jay, sharing a packet of sweets with Sunghoon in the process.

“It's not like you guys had sex at the weekend” Dahyun yawned, throwing the full weight of her head on Jake's shoulder.

“What?” you and Heeseung shouted at the same time.

Their eyes widened, their breathing quickened and their faces heated up as they looked at the four of them sitting in front of them. So they knew, but how? You and he had tried to be discreet the whole time, and you hadn't said anything to Dahyun, considering Heeseung's astonishment, showing that he hadn't said anything to his friends either.

“Come on, we saw you two leaving the party together” Jay sighed “We agreed not to say anything until one of you spoke.”

“But you're still fighting” Jake pouted.

“By the way” Dahyun squeezed the cup between her fingers, the coffee long since finished and she just needed something to munch on while she talked to Jake “I could hear you two when we got home” she looked at Jake for a few seconds, then at you and Heeseung. They exchanged frightened, embarrassed glances.

A hole could be dug right there that you wanted to bury yourself in and never get out of. There was no escaping it and no escape from your friends' looks and playful smiles. There was also no way you could face Heeseung after everything you'd heard, so your only way out was to make an excuse that you needed to go to the library to get a book to start studying. You left the room as quickly as you could and entered the door at the end of the corridor.

At least it was quiet there and you wouldn't hear any of your friends talking about you and Heeseung having sex, or about how they knew all along and didn't tell either of you. It hadn't been long since it happened, but you'd been with Dahyun all morning and Heeseung had probably spent a lot of it with some of the boys he shared a class with. So they waited for you to give them a break to say it out loud?

“Holy shit” you whispered to yourself, leaning on one of the shelves in a vast aisle of encyclopedias. Nothing there was of interest to you and you didn't necessarily need any of those books, but it had been the first aisle you'd found to enter and browse the various shelves in search of clearing your mind.

“It really is shit” the voice settled in your ears and went straight to your skin, sending shivers down your spine and making your heart race. Your heartbeat accelerated more than usual when you turned around and noticed Heeseung just a few steps away.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Go away!” you whispered at him, turning to one of the shelves to pick up any stupid books. If you'd never read encyclopedias before, that day could be your first. Then you'd be too busy reading and not paying attention to the boy who was slowly approaching you.

“I had to leave too, I couldn't stand that embarrassment alone” he said in the same tone as yours, stopping right behind you as he noticed your feat in trying to open a heavy book that had nothing to do with the classes you were attending “Besides, I came to tease you for being too scandalous” Heeseung's breath hitched against your ear, his lips almost kissing your skin.

You turned sharply, the book wobbling in your hands from the weight of it and the force with which you turned. But your reflexes were good enough to hold it steady while you stared at it.

“Me? Scandalous?” your indignation was palpable, along with your anger that was beginning to grow inside your chest at him and the arrogant smile he had “What do you mean?”

“That you moaned so loudly that my sister heard!”

“Motherfucker” you almost forgot you were in the library, wanting to scream in his face and curse him with every swear word you could think of “I didn't moan that loud.”

“Yes, you did” he said.

“No, I didn't” you answered back, not realizing that you had taken a step forward and leaned your body against his. Heeseung took the opportunity to take the book from your hands, the weight shifting to his arms as he put it back on the shelf. Now having full access to you and your body in front of him.

He knew you hadn't moaned out loud, not least because he managed to shut you up every time. Making you moan against his mouth or listening closely when your mouth was close to his ear, having the most beautiful moan Heeseung had ever heard in his entire life.

“On a scale of zero to ten, if I say you moan scandalously…” Heeseung began, his speech somewhat meek “How angry will you be?”

“Ten, obviously” you hadn't even hesitated to answer, regretting it the second he smiled.

“So you moan too scandalously” such a simple sentence, but one that practically tore away the last bit of calm you had with Heeseung. Not that it ever really existed, but at least you tried inside the library.

As if it was the right thing to do, you raised your hand to hit him as you had been doing so often in the last few moments, but he acted quickly. So fast that neither of you could process it. Heeseung's long fingers wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you against his chest, wrapping his free arm around your waist to press you down and give you no chance to escape. The warmth of his fingers against your skin made you hold your breath and close your eyes, almost like a memory of what was about to happen.

It was the perfect cue for Heeseung to lean towards you and touch the tip of his nose to yours. His breaths mingled and his eyes closed to revel in the sensation of being so close to you again.

He wanted to touch your mouth, kiss you, and be able to leave with you. To remember the softness of your lips and how perfectly your mouths fit together as if the two of you had learned everything from each other. Even though the two of you shared hurried, slow kisses, none of them were disproportionate or out of rhythm. You and Heeseung managed to find harmony and synchronicity in every movement.

“Oh, shit” Jay's voice made you and Heeseung break apart quickly, startled by the closeness and realizing that if the brunette hadn't arrived, you and he would have kissed right then “Sorry, I—”

“You owe me lunch for a week” Dahyun appeared beside him, smiling openly as her eyes landed on you and Heeseung. He didn't need to look at you to know that you also shared a confused, albeit frightened, expression as to why Jay and his sister were there in the library.

“What did you two bet?” Heeseung asked the dreaded question, opening and closing his fists and holding back the urge to touch you again, even if it was in front of the two who were still there.

“That you and Y/n would be kissing” Jay said “But the two of them never actually kissed, so I don't owe you anything.”

“Yes, you do!” Dahyun protested, pushing Jay out of the hallway and leaving you and Heeseung completely unresponsive.

It would have been a smart idea to avoid going to any parties after what happened, in case you both regretted it. But that wasn't exactly it.

As the week went by, the teasing between Heeseung and you continued with a little more intensity, adding to the spice of what had happened between you, and now things had become a little more physical. Like him having to get too close to you and touch your hair after getting on your nerves, or how your hand wrapped around his arm – unnecessarily – so you could avoid Heeseung when he was near the kitchen counter teasing you before you left and went to his sister's room.

Things were getting heated and neither of you made any move to actually stop or that it wasn't affecting you anymore, quite the opposite. As the touching persisted or you paid too much attention to each other's actions, things got more and more complicated.

That was why Heeseung now found himself with a red glass in his hand, bringing it to his lips and feeling the bitter taste of alcohol go down his throat. He could have refused to go to that party after Sunghoon insisted, with the excuse that the class had been terrible. Even though he had slept through most of it. At least they were at Yeonjun's parent's house, the rich boy and Jake's friend who always gave up his house when the fraternities hadn't recovered after a few parties over a short period.

At least there was somewhere to sit, a room without too many people and the music wasn't too loud. The pool room that the boys usually went to when they wanted to escape the crowds, but didn't want to leave the party completely.

“Man, I love it when we’re here” Yeonjun sighed, sitting across from Heeseung and next to Jay “I wanted to run away from Stacy all night.”

“Is she annoying you?” Jay held back a laugh.

Talking about girls was the main topic when Yeonjun was around, and it wasn’t such a bad thing. Sharing experiences and even talking about how their current relationships were going, just as Jake made a point of praising Dahyun and how the two of them were getting along better and better. At some point in the conversation, Heeseung didn’t even bother to share anything, feeling shy for the first time. You had been the last girl he slept with, and talking about it, about the intimacy you two shared made him embarrassed. It wasn’t that he would brag every time he got with someone, on the contrary, the poor boy was the most teased because he rarely kissed a unit on the mouth at a party.

Maybe it was his chance to say that he had finally kissed someone after so long. But he wanted to keep it all to himself as if he felt jealous of sharing every detail about you.

“And you, Heeseung” Yeonjun called him as if he could read his thoughts. “Did you finally have sex?”

Sunghoon choked on his half-drunk drink, biting the plastic cup as he looked at his friend and noticed the shocked expression on his face. Yeonjun didn’t know anything about what had happened, especially since he wasn’t that close to you and Dahyun. He knew you two by sight and exchanged a few words because you were always around, but it’s not like he knew everything about you.

“He definitely had sex” Jake bit his lips to keep from smiling “Guess who?”

There wasn’t a single name that crossed Yeonjun’s mind, it was so difficult to associate Heeseung with anyone. Just like they associated Jake with Dahyun or Yeonjun with Stacy. Heeseung didn't have anyone on his radar, and the boys didn't know which girl had ever mentioned his name as a possible sexual companion.

A short period of silence fell over the room, and Jay's impatience quickly cut through.

"Y/n" he said.

“What?” it was Yeonjun’s turn to almost choke on his drink when he decided to take a sip of his beer. “Don’t you two, like, hate each other more than anything in the universe?”

I thought so, Heeseung had that answer on the tip of his tongue, almost wanting to say it out loud.

“So our dear Lee has a powerful dick” Yeonjun joked.

“Dude, we can ask Y/n if he has a small dick or not” Jay suggested.

“That’s cute, we’re finally going to know about his dick” Jake faked a cute voice, pouting and everything to get in on the joke.

“I don’t have a small dick, you idiots” Heeseung wanted to sound angry, although that joke was always there. Talking like that or about sexual performance with some girl… It would be disgusting if it was a conversation that happened often, but it wasn’t. It was just at times when they all wanted to escape from everything, to be in a universe where only boys existed and they could talk about anything.

A laugh filled the room before Heeseung or any of the boys could respond. Turning to the door, there you were. Standing with your hand on the doorknob and the other holding the plastic cup.

“Y/n!” Jay called out to you excitedly.

“Hey Y/n, is it true that Heeseung—” Yeonjun was interrupted by a flying plastic cup, hitting him in the chest as Heeseung threw it.

You had heard the entire conversation before entering the wrong room, looking for a bathroom to pee in. Your eyes scanned the room, seeing how relaxed and happy the boys were, far from those people you were starting to get bored with.

“Wrong door, sorry, boys” you waved and smiled at all of them, stopping your eyes on Heeseung for a long moment. Analyzing every inch of his body. Every piece of clothing adorned that man’s curves very well. Wide pants, white tank top, and leather jacket. A cardinal sin was that his hair was slicked back and the silver chain showing well above the collar of the tank top he was wearing. Luckily for you, the music was loud enough that no one could hear the force with which you swallowed when you noticed Heeseung’s collarbone was more exposed than usual. Waving to all of them, you closed the door as quickly as you opened it.

He tried to process what had just happened. Did your laughter indicate that you had heard the conversation, giving the boys room to think that he had a small dick? It wasn't possible… Heeseung couldn't believe it, even though it was true as he started to hear his friends making fun of your reaction.

If she laughed, it was because she agreed.

Does he really have a small dick?

Shit, Heeseung, she's teasing you.

He didn't want to hear anything from his friends anymore, the small flame of anger consuming him for teasing him like that in front of his friends. It wouldn't stay like this. Heeseung wouldn't let you get away with it, just like you almost didn't let him get away with it on library day.

Without time for goodbyes or small talk, Heeseung left the room in a hurry, opening the door and closing it without giving time for protests or for any of the boys to follow him. Now, in the middle of the small crowd in the hallway, he dodged some dancing and sweaty bodies, looking everywhere in search of you or his sister who, perhaps, could know where you were. Heeseung had a small spark of hope that he could find you before you went somewhere he couldn't find anymore. Or worse, that you started to feel tired and drunk enough to want to leave.

Running down the stairs, he reached the ground floor in record time, even with some people getting in his way. Heeseung walked from one room to the other, his eyes increasingly attentive to the people, scanning the place until he finally found you. Standing at one end of the table with glasses piled up in front of you, while his sister was at the other end with a few more girls.

“My turn to play,” one of them said, excited enough to grab the ball and throw it before it fell into one of the cups. She and Dahyun celebrated that you would have to drink, and from the look on your face, it wasn’t that good.

Heeseung took hurried steps towards the table, watching you take the ball out of the cup and drink all the contents inside.

“How disgusting” you stuck your tongue out, making a fake vomit sound before discarding the empty cup right next to you. “Now it’s my turn” but your turn didn’t come. Before you could even throw the ball into one of the cups in front of Dahyun and the other girl, Heeseung grabbed your arm and slid his fingers through your hand until he took the ball out. “What the fuck—”

“I need to talk to you” he said.

“Oh, that’s our girl, finally Y/n!” you wanted to ignore those comments, especially because Heeseung’s eyes were so intense and focused only on you. He didn’t care that the girls were joking about that situation, or how Dahyun was saying some teasing things in a playful tone. As if his gaze was capable of erasing everything around him and leaving only the two of you in the center of everything.

“Heeseung.”

“I said I need to talk to you, let’s go” he threw the ball to Dahyun, grabbing your arm again to get you out of there as quickly as possible.

Strangely you didn’t protest, just accepting the boy in front of you leading the way out of the party and through the front door. The air that hit your skin almost made you shiver, but Heeseung’s touch was capable of warming everything in your body without giving you a chance to feel the cold outside environment.

He stopped walking as soon as the two of you passed through the entire front yard, the sidewalk almost devoid of anyone around. Everyone was lying on the lawn or the porch, except for the excessive amount that was already inside Yeonjun's parents' huge house.

“What do you need to talk to me about?” you finally asked, letting your voice be heard by Heeseung after a while of silence between the two of you. He then let go of your arm, turning towards you to face you. Looking around a little, he wanted to make sure that he wouldn't be interrupted or, worse still, that someone would hear your conversation. People had a slight impression that you and Heeseung always argued, but the only ones who listened attentively to this were your friends and his sister. Heeseung didn't want anyone else to know about these little details.

“You heard the boys’ conversation upstairs, didn’t you?” he asked you. His tone was usually serious, but with a hint of anger that was always directed at you.

“Wanting to know if you have a small dick? Yeah, I heard you” you laughed a little, regretting it the second Heeseung approached you. His eyes were glazed over anywhere on your face, at least you knew where he was looking. His chest rose and fell in a rapid breath as he leaned in enough to be able to look you in the eyes without losing your attention.

“Do you find this funny, Y/n?” his low tone of voice never had any effect on you, on the contrary, it always instigated you even more to tease him. Smiling now and then, pushing Heeseung’s buttons when he seemed mad at you. But this time it was different, his voice seemed to fade away as he said things to you that way. The look still in your eyes, now falling to your lips “So you think I have a small dick?”

“I didn’t say anything about that—” you were quickly interrupted.

“Answer my question” he said “Do you think I have a small dick?” Heeseung’s hand touched your waist, pressing his fingers tightly against the spot before pulling you against his body.

You swallowed any sound that could come out of your lips so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing the effect he was having on you. Your pride spoke louder at least at that moment.

Thinking of all the possibilities that could answer his question, something popped into your mind. The instinct of rivalry and fight between the two of you couldn’t end so soon, and you knew that a remnant of the old Y/n that started all this with Heeseung still lived inside you. So you did the right thing by whispering those words.

“On ​​a scale of zero to ten, how angry will you be if I say yes?”

Heeseung felt like an idiot for letting a smile appear on his lips so easily, especially because of you.

“We’re going home right now, tell my sister to go with Jake” he said, not taking his hands off your waist until he took you to the car and they left that party.

You were both experiencing a little deja vu from the first night you were together, but something at that moment seemed to be a little slower. You arrived at the apartment without much of a rush because Heeseung drove carefully; the city streets at that time were not a safe place to speed, even if he was in a hurry. The silence in the building's elevator was not uncomfortable, much less the rustling of the keys when he opened the apartment door.

The path to his room was led by him, with dragging and slightly nervous steps – which you didn't notice and he was grateful – because you were equally nervous. The last time you made this path, you were in Heeseung's arms and with your mouth glued to his. Shy giggles and messy words were said as the two of you tried to balance each other until you entered his room.

When you entered the room again, the smell of Heeseung's cologne was still in the air. The same smell he had all over his clothes and inside the car, showing that when he had put on perfume a few hours before going to the party, the smell still lingered in the air. Your eyes searched around in search of some recognition, mentally cursing yourself for remembering practically everything. The shelf with trophies he had won, video games stacked perfectly next to each other, some dolls and superheroes. Nerd stuff that you had played with him for so long outside of that environment, but being in Heeseung's personal space and taking a good look at it was something new for you.

At that moment your thoughts flew to the boy in front of you who, delicately, wrapped his hands around your waist this time. The tender touch was a total opposite of what the two of you had been having lately, about everything that involved you and him. Heeseung pulled you closer, his forehead slowly touching yours, while one of his hands left your waist to touch your face. The touch of his fingers against your skin immediately made you close your eyes.

“Do you miss being here?” he asked in a playful tone, but the softness of that question made you wonder if you really missed being there. Even though it was the second time you had stepped into Heeseung's room under those circumstances.

“You're the one who misses having me here” you teased.

“Maybe so” he shrugged, smiling when you seemed surprised by his sudden confession, but you didn’t dare open your eyes. Shy enough not to be able to look at Heeseung while he was still caressing your face.

You had both consumed a little more alcohol than the last time you did this, but still, neither of you managed to get to the point of getting drunk. There was no way you could tell him that you drank too much at the games with Dahyun and the girls, and much less could Heeseung use the excuse that he was drunk with the boys. Again, you were both in that situation because you wanted to be.

“Y/n” he whispered your name, taking you out of the little trance where you could only hear your calm breathing and your heartbeats against each other due to the proximity of your body to his.

“Yeah” you answered.

“Can I kiss you again?” the first time he didn’t ask for permission in that scenario, Heeseung’s lips were simply against yours. But now, there inside his room, everything seemed different. All the tenderness and calm that you were strangely enjoying, while he didn't know exactly why he was caressing you so lovingly and asking permission for something he had already done.

“Yes, please” your answer surprised him more than it surprised you. You even said please, something that had never happened to him. Usually the only thank you you gave Heeseung or the only word of cordiality you said to each other was the famous good morning, and when Dahyun still insisted on the two of you.

Finally, Heeseung's lips pressed against yours, the soft touch of his mouth sliding over yours before he opened his mouth and urged you to do the same. Heeseung's chin slowly pressed against yours to keep your mouth open and enter his tongue into your cave, searching for your tongue and intertwining the two gently.

Although there was urgency in each touch, in how he wanted to kiss you and how you wanted to be kissed by him, something unsaid – but understood – was that you both wanted to enjoy that strangely pleasurable moment for both of you. Your hands went up to make contact with the collar of the jacket he wore, running your thin fingers under the leather before grabbing Heeseung's shoulders. Your skin against his made him sigh during the kiss, bringing you closer and walking with you towards the bed. Stopping only when his calf touched the wood indicating that he had reached where he wanted.

He was the first to stop kissing you, placing small kisses on your chin until he reached your jaw, where he lightly scraped his teeth and smiled when he saw the skin on your neck start to get goosebumps. You didn't want to be left behind, so your hands forced themselves on his shoulders to loosen his jacket and make it fall halfway down his arms. Heeseung grew impatient with that piece of cloth and soon got rid of the jacket, not bothering to throw it on the bedroom floor, wrapping his arms around your body again.

Heeseung returned with his lips against your skin, brushing whenever he could on every little spot before alternating with the tip of his tongue a short path down to below your ear. His breath so close was enough to make you go a little crazy more.

“We can—”

“We can do whatever you want” he told you, kissing the spot below your ear and returning to position his face aligned with yours. Foreheads together and feeling her breath hit his lips “Tell me and I will do it.”

It was your turn to kiss Heeseung, your hands holding his face to keep him close while his tongue wrapped around yours again. The perfect fit of your mouths and how the two of you, despite your need, didn't let go and didn't make a mess of it. Yet.

Heeseung picked you up just to lay you down on his bed, snuggling his body between your legs without taking his mouth off yours. He pulled away momentarily to breathe before kissing you again with even more desire. At that point you felt like you needed him even more, your legs wrapping around Heeseung's hips who, you could tell, was holding back from making any risky moves. Even though you both wanted that. But it was impossible to hold back any longer because of the way the kiss started to get sloppy and lazy. You didn't know that you could get even more excited by the way Heeseung's tongue moved against yours or how the softness of his lips remained even after you abused them for so long.

Involuntarily your hips rocked, feeling Heeseung's erection rub against your clothed pussy, making you both moan in sync.

“Fuck” he moaned into your mouth, swallowing another moan of yours as he pressed his hips against you so you could feel a little more of his cock.

“Heeseung” your hands ran down his arms, your nails making a reddish path against his skin as you marked him.

“Are you going to moan loudly now?” he teased, lifting his head to look at you. It would be typical of Lee Heeseung to comment on that while he had a hard-on and was between your legs, you should have imagined that.

“I think you need to keep your mouth busy and stop talking shit” you rolled your eyes at him, holding yourself back so that your arousal wouldn't turn into anger and you would hit the boy.

“Your wish is my command, ma'am” Heeseung smiled so seductively that you asked yourself countless questions at that moment.

As he slid down your body, taking off each piece of your clothing without your protest, you wondered. Heeseung always smiled mischievously at you, although the effects were always the opposite of what was happening. Maybe the vulnerability in which you and he found each other at that moment made you with your senses heightened, paying a little more attention than necessary. Of course, you saw Heeseung up close, in his most intimate form, just as he saw you too. So that would be a good explanation for why you felt strange when he, at that moment, directed the smiles that you knew so well, at you.

Looking down at the exact second that Heeseung took off your panties, you noticed how lost in thought you were at that moment. Did he undress you so quickly or were you thinking too much about his smile to notice that now you were both naked? It didn’t matter, the job was done and now you fought against your racing heartbeat as Heeseung’s face lowered to be level with your pussy.

As if asking permission with a glance directed at your face, you nodded slowly as he adjusted himself between your legs and placed a kiss on your thigh. His lips tickled your skin before sliding down to your groin and finally finding your pussy.

“Heeseung— shit” you held back a moan between your lips as the tip of his tongue touched your clit. Swollen and in need of his full attention which he was more than willing to give.

Heeseung wrapped one hand around your thigh, bringing the other to your pussy to part your labia and spread all your wetness on his fingertips. It was a sight he didn’t think he would ever see, but one he couldn’t stop seeing now. He needed to be in that position at least once a day, if possible. Heeseung’s fingers made their way across your pussy lips until they reached your hole, circling it before pushing in. He looked up, his face fucking gorgeous as you fought the urge to open your eyes.

He wrapped his lips around your clit to suck on your bundle of nerves at the same time his finger was inserted into your hole. The two sensations flooded you as you let out the most beautiful moan. It wasn't scandalous at all, on the contrary, it was low and sensual. A reminder of how Heeseung was making you feel with just a few seconds of giving your pussy proper attention.

Moving his finger inside you, he included another and the two began working in and out of your hole. The wet sound of his fingers fucking you along with the moans you were letting out made his cock throb. Heeseung felt himself getting harder and harder, aching and wanting to be inside you as soon as possible.

“Hee” you moaned that nickname that had been heard only a few times, but that was enough to make him want to hear it again. This seemed to motivate you a little more, because Heeseung inserted the third finger into your pussy and, leaning down again, he went back to kissing your clit and any other place his mouth could reach.

It seemed like the way he kissed your mouth, kissing your pussy so perfectly that you were going crazy. Your hands found their way into his hair, tangling a few strands without having enough strength to pull them out. You focused as much as possible on how well Heeseung was fucking you and his fingers curling inside your warm walls. It was the second time you had sex, but it seemed like he knew every spot on your body and how you should be touched.

Heeseung felt your hole tighten against his fingers, licking your clit more slowly, although the intrusion of his fingers into your hole wasn't that slow. He smiled against your pussy, lifting his face from there and crawling until his face was flush with yours. His fingers didn't stop fucking you even though his mouth was far from your pussy.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked in a deep and hoarse whisper, making you open your eyes and almost actually cum at that moment. His chin was covered in saliva and your wetness, making Heeseung even hotter than he looked.

You nodded quickly to him, bringing one of your hands to Heeseung's chin and sliding your thumb over the spots on his skin to clean it. Any other time this would have been kind of cute, warming both of your hearts with the act. Although he appreciated your care even if he didn't mind having a little bit of you stuck to his chin.

“I want you to cum looking into my eyes” he whispered “Can you do that?”

You had no way of knowing if you were capable of it, especially when his fingers started fucking you again so slowly, but so intensely. He made sure to go all the way to his knuckles, rotating and scissoring inside you with precision. Wanting to feel your warm walls enveloping them as he penetrated you. A scream burst from your throat when his thumb touched your clit, where his lips had been minutes ago. You moved your hips to match the movements of his fingers and that made Heeseung almost go crazy.

Your hands went back to touching his hair, one of them going to the back of his neck to pull his face close to yours. Heeseung kissed you to share a little of your taste on his tongue, to show you how addictive you were not only to the kiss but to the taste of your pussy that he was already starting to get addicted to. This was starting to get too much for you, the way he moved his tongue around as he kissed you to muffle your moans and the way his fingers filled you up nicely. A few more small strokes and a particularly hard press on your clit and you came undone, cumming all over his fingers and squeezing them like Heeseung remembered your pussy being capable of.

He held you throughout your orgasm, his fingers still inside you until your walls stopped convulsing and tightening. Slowly sliding out with all of your cum running down your fingers and into the palm of your hand.

“That was…” your words slowly faded as you noticed him pull away a little, enough for him to be able to place his hand between your face and his. The glow of your essence covering every little part of Heeseung’s fingers made your face heat up. It wasn’t the first time you had cum with him, but seeing it so close made you feel shy… You came all that and only on his fingers?

With an air of pride for having been the cause of it, Heeseung smiled before bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking every little drop of you. Fucking hot. He licked it all up with determination, just like he had done on your pussy until there was nothing left for him to clean.

“That was what?” he turned his attention back to you, a small smile on his lips as he leaned in again and now Heeseung's hips were pressed against yours.

Your pussy was still sensitive as his throbbing cock made contact with your folds. He let out a hiss, low and whimpering at the warm sensation that hadn't yet enveloped him. You wanted to surprise him just like he did to you, so slowly your lips enveloped his. A slow kiss to calm your heart that was still racing from the post-orgasm, but preparing yourself for what was on your mind as you felt him melt into your lips.

It was the calmness of Heeseung kissing you and the way you took his lips at that moment. Feeling the attention you gave to each caress, when your hands slid over his body… He just didn't count on how fast it was when you grabbed his dick and slid the red and sensitive head into your entrance.

“Y/n… Fuck, holy shit” he moaned. Being taken by surprise by the sensation, but unable to contain himself when he felt your hot hole envelop him. Quickly his hips pushed forward as if he was trained to do it, as if Heeseung needed to do it without thinking, just being close to your pussy like something magnetic to his dick.

In a quick movement, his entire dick was inside you, and you both moaned at the same second. You because you felt filled by his dick, killing the longing that was to have him inside you. That would never be admitted out loud. While he felt the warmth and sponginess of your walls enveloping every inch of his dick. A hot embrace that he needed more than ever. Another thing that wouldn't be admitted out loud either.

Heeseung adjusted himself, one hand resting on the side of your head while the other found its way to your hip. Supporting himself and squeezing the flesh of your skin as he rested his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes before starting to move.

You remember that the first time you two had sex, Heeseung practically fucked you. The force with which his cock entered and left you, the way he ate you out and you sucked him. It was an almost angry but needy sex, where the two of you poured out teasing and moaning. But this time was different. He also remembered the way you and he gave yourselves to each other the first time. How his hips tortured yours as his cock went in and out, hearing you moan his name so much that Heeseung could think it was devotion to him.

But this time he moved masterfully. Slowly and carefully, but each time his dick entered, Heeseung went intensely to the bottom, putting just enough force to make his dick enter you completely and reach the limit that was being in your pussy, reaching your deepest point. His dick slid perfectly inside you, combining his pre-cum with your fluids and the cum from the previous orgasm, all combined with the way he moved.

To add even more intensity to the sex, Heeseung remained with his gaze fixed on your eyes. His hand on your hip tightened as he managed to reach the bottom of your pussy or when your walls squeezed him at a certain point. He was on cloud nine every time your hole swallowed him and he felt your walls being slid by every inch of him.

“Y/n” the whisper of his voice made you mumble softly, as if answering his call and telling him that you were listening. Not wanting to say too much or simply interrupt what he wanted to say to you “That’s amazing” he slowly kissed your lips, the hand on your hip sliding down to grip your thigh “You’re amazing.”

He didn’t even care if it had been said that way or how you would react. By the way your eyes were soft on him, your mouth half open letting moans escape, Heeseung could tell you felt the same way.

“You’re an idiot” you whispered “But you’re amazing too, Heeseung” he chuckled against your lips as he kissed you again.

The sharing of each movement of your tongues as they danced in sync with his hips that were still moving against yours. His cock throbbed inside your pussy indicating that he wouldn't last much longer than that, although your pussy was addictive and he could fuck you all night. But Heeseung wasn't that strong when it came to you – at least not in the last week that he discovered what sex with you was like – so cumming was more than a necessity for him at that moment.

He quickened the pace of his thrusts, the sound of his pelvis hitting against your thighs quickly in search of the apex to share a little more intimacy. Heeseung thrust his cock into you fast, but with a certain care that made your chest heat up. And that was a combination of the overwhelming sensations that the two of you were sharing. His cock went to the limit, touching your cervix as he started and going a little harder and faster to fuck you with a little more need.

Heeseung rested his forehead against yours again, a silent plea that he wanted to see you cum with him or simply see your expression when the two of you came together. And with a few more strokes you felt the burning in the pit of your stomach. Your hands ran to hold his face, afraid that the two of you would turn away and you wouldn't be able to look at him while you came undone on his cock.

“Hee” you called him before moaning close to his mouth, sharing accelerated breaths before your walls closed around his cock, cumming hard. More than the first time on his fingers.

That was too much for Heeseung to handle, he wouldn't be able to hold back the feeling of your walls convulsing around his cock. Your cum slid all over his length and hitting against his pelvis. Heeseung felt his balls ache as he continued to pound his cock into you until he finally came. The hot and long jets of cum inside your pussy, hitting your insides hard. He moaned your name tirelessly as he continued to move in search of prolonging both orgasms.

For a long moment, the two of you remained in that position, trying to normalize your breathing, which was still more than accelerated. Heeseung held you as if his life depended on it, and so did you. Little by little, after your pussy stopped squeezing him and his cock stopped twitching, he slowly raised his hips to pull out of you. Both of you moaning together were almost no longer connected as before, he threw himself next to you on the bed.

“Don’t move” Heeseung whispered, although he knew you didn’t have the strength to do it. With great difficulty, he got up and made the well-known path to the bathroom outside the room. Thankfully, no one had arrived from the party yet, having the apartment just for the two of you. When Heeseung returned to the room, he had a small smile on his lips as he lay down next to you again, bending over you.

“What…” he seemed to have the power to interrupt you on the strangest occasions, catching you by surprise with unexpected actions. He cleaned you carefully, leaving no trace of the two of you between your legs, just like he had done in the bathroom with himself a few seconds ago. Heeseung discarded the damp paper in the trash next to the computer table, lying down next to you again and wrapping his arm around your waist. Just like he had done the first night you and he slept together.

But this time it didn’t seem so strange to you. What was strange was that you liked the feeling of having him so close like this, facing him and resting your hands on Heeseung’s exposed chest.

“So you…”

“Don’t say anything to provoke me now or I’ll hit you” it was your turn to interrupt him, making Heeseung laugh as he pulled you closer and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You didn't know what happened to you after Heeseung touched you, because every little thing he did made your whole body shiver.

“I was just going to say…” he whispered, his lips close to your ear, but with a subtle tone that was rarely – if ever – used with you “If you still think you hate me.”

“I do” you answered quickly. Heeseung laughed against your ear, lifting his face so he could look at you.

“Then I hate you too” he said back, pressing his lips against yours, but not kissing them like he always did when he was close enough to you. “Can we hate each other like we did today, then?”

It was your turn to laugh, making Heeseung feel strange now. His heart skipped a beat at the brightness in your eyes and the way you frowned when you were smiling like that. Was he paying too much attention or were the two of you close enough that he couldn't notice anything other than you and what you were doing? He wasn't sure.

“I think we can hate each other like this” you replied, seeing the small hint of happiness in his eyes and in the smile he gave you.

Pressing his lips slowly to yours, you let him kiss you so subtly like you never thought would happen. Because after all, you and Heeseung hated each other.

And you would hate each other the same way you did in his bed.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

GOAL!

in which shy guy jake accidentally cusses out a stranger for making him late to soccer practice, sooner realising that it wasn't just him drenched in the smell of faded coffee beans that morning practice.

STRANGERS TO FRIENDS TO LOVERS! WHOLESOME, SLIGHT ANGST, FLUFF! COMEDY, SMAU

contents.

0. JAKE/YN PROFILES

1. LAPS.

2. OH?

3. LOSER?

𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒂𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏..

comment/inbox for taglist!

CATFISH COME CLEAN! — SIM JAEYUN

SYNOPSIS Jake didn’t catfish often, but when he did, it always turned out proper. When he found out the person he was currently catfishing played VALORANT, he had to tweak some of his settings, starting off with his username. Going by Julia was one thing, however meeting a kind girl and lying about his true identity to her was another. If you two were to get close, it was obvious he would have to come clean. The only thing was… how?

PAIRING jake x fem!reader (feat. enhypen, julie from kiss of life, yeji from itzy, juyeon from the boyz, hyunjae from the boyz, leehan from boynextdoor)

GENRES smau + written, fluff, crack, angst, gamer au, strangers to lovers, university au.

WARNINGS swearing, random time stamps, teasing, kys/kms jokes, lying/catfishing (which i do Not support), more will be added.

STATUS coming soon

TAGLIST IS OPEN, SEND AN ASK TO BE ADDED! 🎮

PROFILES — one // two

001 | Ou…. 🔥🔥🔥

002 | AFTER A FIGHT????

003 |

more to come… chapter names may change!

© JUYEOZ

✦ THE WAY THINGS GO ── PARK SUNGHOON SERIES

synopsis: after years of living abroad with a perfect job and an even more perfect fiancé, you return to korea, overwhelmed and in need of a fresh start. back in your hometown, you meet with sunghoon, your childhood best friend who is now a successful architect admired by everyone. as the two of you spend more time together, old feelings and memories resurface, blurring the lines between friendship and something more. with sunghoon right next door, you start to wonder—was the love you've been searching for always right here?

pairing: childhood best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader (feat. hyung line of enhypen, chaewon from lesserafim, gaeul from ive )

genre: short written series, fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, romance

warnings: profanity, kissing, parties, more tba . . .

danielle note: happy birthday to my dearest jennifer ! this is my small birthday gift for you >3< mwah mwah love you so much, i hope you have the best birthday ever! + this fic based on lovenextdoor (SINCE both of us are watching it ㅠㅠ)

taglist: OPEN (send an ask or ask in comment to be added) @nenesz

CHAPTERS ────

OO1. can't remember how to say your name

after all this time? always — kim seungmin.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　model!seungmin x interior designer fem!reader (she/her pronouns).

SUMMARY: 　in which seungmin was wise to plan your engagement in a haste without you suspecting him.

GENRE & WARNING/S:　 fluff, established relationship, another wedding au from me, seungmin is in love, chan, hyunjin and felix cameo, a little bit emotional, reader is suffering from a headache, swearing, kissing, light mentions of alcohol, fluff, just fluff, semi-proofread because my head has been hurting.

WORD COUNT: 　7.3k

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　inspired by tasaki and harry winston seungmin, i wrote this down in a rush because of the previous event that seungmin attended and he looks soooo good! i also want to thank @arrasuh for helping me out ily mwah. i know you guys are expecting something else but this is the final fic for seungmin’s birthday and i hope you like it! happy birthday to my beloved puppy !! don’t forget to reblog and leave feedback.

“I’ll be out late tonight so don’t wait for me and rest, okay love?” Seungmin said as you watched him wear his shoes by the entryway while holding the ice bag above your head. A heavy sigh escaped from your lips frowning at him but he’s too understanding to shrug it off. 

“I’m so sorry for being sick, Min. I know you’re looking forward to this event.” You groan in response with that distressed look on your face. Seungmin sighs with a smile before taking you into his arms, kissing your forehead making you look at him. 

It was disappointing that youーsomehowーmanaged to get sick the night before the 70th anniversary of a jeweler from Japan that Seungmin got invited to attend. You were supposed to be his plus one but getting nauseous and suffering from a strong headache didn’t want you to experience a private event with your model boyfriend. The regret and being displeased enveloped your emotions that you had to apologize to him multiple times because of your damned situation even though he already said that it wasn’t your fault you got an unbearable headache before his unannounced public appearance. 

“Baby, it’s fine. I understand and we’re not expecting this to happen.” He said and earned another sigh of dismay from you. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call Felix over so he can take care of you while I’m gone?” He asked as you shook your head in response. “Okay, you’ll be fine alright?” 

“Yes.” You nodded firmly. “I’ll make it up to you next time, Min. I promise.” You frowned as he gave you a quick kiss before pulling away. 

“No need to baby. Take care, okay? I’ll be back before 12.” He said, twisting the doorknob. “Love you!” He smiled, showing those perfectly shaped teeth he had to suffer from braces for three years. 

“Love you too!” And with that, you watched his figure disappear behind the doors of your shared apartment as you sighed heavily in return. 

You felt guilty about it. The first thing he ever did was to take care of you even though you knew he was going to have a busy schedule today and him, leaving at this hour is not something you are used to. Blame that work Chan had asked you to do because ‘the client picked you after you made a great remark on the previous condominium design’ he said. It wasn’t that you’re ungrateful, you’ve been working nonstop because you can’t decide which specific design you are going to present. Being indecisive is the last thing you want to do and because of it, this is the result: A fucking headache. 

Being an interior designer made you spend all-nighters the past few nights while Seungmin was out there doing photoshoots and making brand deals (if that is what he really is up to) leaving you alone in the apartment to brainstorm and make a sketch. Well, you are quite thankful for having a job like this because if it wasn’t for Hyunjin who recommended you when Seungmin was looking for someone to take charge of the design of his new apartment, you wouldn’t be here right now. 

You moved in with Seungmin a year and a half after you met at a meeting to design his new home. The man got smitten at first hello and was persuaded with interestーlistening to every detail and measurement inside his walls. From the color to the furniture to their placements, he didn’t complain and agreed with everything you suggested because he already knew that you could handle what was best for his unique taste. Ultimately, he fell in love with the final look and invited you to attend one of the events he’s modeling for as a form of ‘thank you’. It wasn’t long after that when you and him started dating. 

And that was five years ago. 

Five heavenly years, going six. 

You wondered if the thought of marriage had come across Seungmin’s mind during the past year…but who are you to rush things when work has been drowning you from the start? 

Only a heavy sigh was the thing you could do at the moment and wished him a great night before falling into a deep slumber after your back hit the soft foam of your couch and let the ice bag rest on your forehead. It was already past lunch and Seungmin had to leave early for his hair and makeup. You hated the fact that you were missing out but you couldn’t force your body to stay outside and meddle in his business. Still, you wanted to witness how his stylist would dress him up tonight and that, you just accepted your fate. 

Hours later, Seungmin was welcomed with lights and cameras flashing the moment he stepped out of the car with his manager along the way. All black from top to toe, pearl earrings, a necklace around his pretty neck, and a ring adorned his fingerーhe looked magnificent as he walked gracefully alone by the hallway, like the model that he already is. 

The endless handwaves, his dashing smile, photo ops, it was safe to say that he wished you were there with him. Although, he understands the fact that you got sick and you hated the crowd. But at the same time, he’s quite relieved to be going alone. The media was eyeing him that night. An A-list model being invited to such an event is a great eye candy. He stood out the most among every guest at the venue, smiling and making everyone fall for him. The unending flashing of cameras in front made his fit shine with the silver background with the word ‘TASAKI 70th anniversary’ on it, and the jewelry that the stylist picked that would suit him. He was good at his job, mainly a professional who knows how to handle the media. With just one smile, a nod, a wave, a polite bow, and a poseーSeungmin is not just any other model out there. 

He got busy along the way with a decent (tons) amount of interviews for them to post something on social media, the shoots, magazine opportunities, and the ‘trying out of their products’ session to show them offーhe was occupied. It’s going to be one heck of a night for him but for sure, he’ll enjoy it in his own way somehow. He would try to survive another event alone for a while. Lucky for him, those overwhelming activities cascaded when he was assisted by a lady who was in charge of taking him around. He is gestured politely to leave the photo op. area and was taken to the display along with a few bodyguards and his manager tailing him. 

When they reached the rings section, he tried to focus on the lady who introduced him to the different jewelry that this event could show off for its anniversary. He immediately thought of you while browsing and unbeknownst to your knowledge, he had a plan in mind. 

Seungmin acted with interest and curiosity with the jewels. He nodded while listening to the lady as she explained the different types of rings to him as he fell on the thought of which of them was perfect for you. The truth is he’s been planning to propose after your fourth anniversary as he was sure that you are the one that he’s ready to spend the rest of his life with but work got in the way. And for almost two years, he’s been measuring the size of your ring finger whenever you were asleep or from an innocent touch of your hands being intertwined with his. He may or may not have stolen a ring from your vanity without your permission just be sure the moment he was informed about the event. 

“So these exquisite rings are designed for women, especially during special occasions like engagements and weddings…” It was a blur for Seungmin as his eyes scanned the display. The idea of proposing did come to mind after spending six heavenly years with you. It’s just that, he couldn’t find a great time to do so just because of a rigged schedule of his. After all, he’s wanted to keep it a secret this one time. 

He was distracted by a specific ring that made him look at the one he was wearing. It wasn’t the type of ring that is used for a formal occasion, but the one that you place on top of them. He leaned forward to the glass to take a better look, both diamonds and pearls were captivating. You did mention that you like rings that would match your outfits when you go outside, it doesn’t matter whether it’ll catch attention or someone might mistake you as someone’s fiance. Seungmin loved the idea but this one is not about style anymore, but is to make the second option to become a reality.

“So, what’s the difference between pearls and diamonds in terms of getting them for a wedding proposal?” He asked with eyes fixated on the rings

“That’s a good question! Actually, pearls are traditional. If you give your girlfriend a pearl ring for your engagement, it symbolizes purity and happiness. It gives protection and eternal love. Pearls are common in weddings too.” The lady said as he gave her an invested nod. “Diamonds are for mutual commitment and everlasting love, they’re common for engagements.” 

“They’re both perfect.” He said. 

There was this smile that painted Seungmin’s lips as he looked at every ring on the display and one of them caught his attention. He tried not to be obvious about it and never left his spot even if the lady already stopped explaining the set. His eyes were fixed on a certain ring that he was dying to buy. The ring he stole stayed still inside one of his pockets and he immediately pulled out to show it to her. He did remember the time when you went to Japan for a vacation two years ago and happened to pass by a jewelry shop that you could barely remember the name but to Seungmin, it was this exact brand. You both wanted promise rings so you went to browse for a bit. 

[ “Look, Min. They’re so pretty!” You said pointing at those beautiful rings on display with your eyes sparkling like a character from an anime. “The balance duo pearl and diamond ring in that color (sakura gold) is pretty.”

“Do you want a pair? Which one do you like?” He asked and was ready to take his wallet from his pocket but he saw you shake your head in response. “Why not?” 

“They’re not promise ring material. It’s sort of…hmm for weddings and engagements so maybe next time? If we’re still together for the next few years to come!” You laughed as he chuckled in response. 

“I would never break up with you, Y/N.” He said as you smiled at him. Unbeknownst to your knowledge, he already has it listed on his notes app. ]

“Are you planning to purchase one of these tonight, Mr. Kim?” She asked with an anticipated smile as Seungmin came back to the present.

“I’m about to but, I’m not sure if these pieces here are for sale.” He said while fidgeting the ring on his fingers. 

“We have stocks in the private room where we keep different sizes of these rings. The ones we have here are fixed sizes. Which one do you want?” 

“I want the one on the left, the balance duo pearl and diamond ring. The sakura gold.” He said as the lady’s smile grew to her ears. 

“You know what you want. Right this way, Mr. Kim.” She said and left the rings section to the private rooms. The lady already knew the purpose of him asking her about the rings and making a wise decision impromptu was just a thrilling moment to witness. Seungmin is the type to plan something in secret without getting caught and the fact that you didn’t even notice your missing ring made it more natural. 

“It is for my girlfriend.” He said and showed them the ring to measure the exact size of your finger. “I want it polished and neat so I can take it home tonight.” He added. 

“Yes, Mr. Kim.” The staff was quick enough to make the purchase and wrapped the ring immediately. Seungmin was so keen on picking the right ring with the perfect sizeーknowing him, he’s a perfectionist. 

“Make sure no one finds out about this and don’t tell Y/N. Make them sign an NDA.” He whispered to his manager. “I’m calling Chan hyung in later, please watch over the transaction here’s my card.” He added as he handed him his card and was assisted by the organizer to come and join them at the dining hall for the formal dinner.

Seungmin stayed there for a while. He was accompanied by fellow guests in the dining area where he had to do other transactions and meetings. The night is still young yet the social interactions get a little bit overwhelming. Seungmin admitted that he’s not the type to party and just sits in the corner of the room to greet anyone who passes by. His manager was nowhere to be found and he was busy eating his dinner with a few colleagues at the same table. 

“So, any plans on settling down?” A who was sitting beside him asked making Seungmin chuckle in response. 

“I hope so, we’re not getting any younger.” Seungmin said that made everyone laugh. Yes, I do have. Sighs. 

With all the small conversations, business smiles, group pictures, and discussion of plans. He had enough of it and wanted the night to end. If you were there, he would ignore everyone around him and focus on you. The idea of longing suddenly hit him and maybe if Hyunjin did mind accompanying him, it would be less boring too. 

Not long after that, he excused himself and went to make a phone call near the private rooms. He knew he had to call Chan for follow-ups. He walked a few meters away and smiled at the people whom he just encountered as he took his phone out, trying to make a phone call. He poked his inner cheek as a hand shoved in his pocket while the other one was holding his phoneーpressing it to his ear. The media was taking lots of pictures and videos again with Seungmin calling someone over the phone. There was this glass wall barrier that made the gap between him and the rest of the people outside. He was so serious about the call that everyone was curious about the conversation. 

“Hyung, hi. How’s the venue?” He asked. 

“It’s going well. The blueprint was out a few days ago and we’re almost done. We need Y/N to come over tomorrow for the finishing touches so we can start the preparations.” Chan answered. 

“I’ll ask her when I get home. She’s pretty sick right now, I can’t force her to go to work.” Seungmin sighed as he massaged his temples. 

“Alright. We can schedule it for a later date if you can’t come tomorrow but call me again if you make any changes. We’re already finalizing the arrangements.” The older man added as Seungmin bit his lower lip fidgeting his ring, getting anxious at the moment. 

“Hyung, are you sure this will work? I mean, I don’t want this relationship to get any extensions without giving Y/N a ring. I’m serious about her.” Seungmin said, leaning back on the wall and sighed again. 

“As long as you won’t say anything, Seungmin. It will be fine. Besides, Y/N has been working nonstop on the interior of the venue for the past week, so I’m sure she’ll be happy. And you’re crazy enough to make her design the proposal venue.” Seungmin laughed at it. 

That hour, you were wide awake after realizing you’d spent the whole afternoon through the evening asleep. You sprinted out of the couch to get your phone only to be spammed by Seungmin’s pictures from the event in all media platforms as possible. It made your heart leap like frogs celebrating joy when it rains and the blush in your cheeks came in to be hot as if you’ve taken large amounts of alcohol. 

His hair was styled with jel making it look like it was wet, especially his bangs that fall on his forehead, that damn sating suit that exposes a little bit of chest with that pearl necklace, the heels of his fucking shoes, and his face card? You are one crazy (unknowingly) soon-to-be fiance. His new haircut made it more beautiful and if comes home wearing that exact suit, you won’t be able to hold yourself and kiss him like no other. 

You called him immediately after that and lucky for you, Chan just ended the call. Seungmin smiled upon reading the new ID calling on his screen and swiped the answer button in a heartbeat. He wasn’t expecting you’d call him on a schedule and you know you shouldn’t but the excitement you felt is going to burst if you won’t scream at him (lovingly). 

“Hey baby,” He smiled even though he knows you can’t see it. 

“Seungmin, my love! I just saw the press’s photos and you look so good!” You squealed. “I suddenly feel better now that I know how you look tonight. It’s such a shame I couldn’t see you at the event.” You added as you walked around in circles around your living room. 

“Do you like it?” He smirked. 

“Babe, the word ‘like’ wouldn’t give it justice. I love it and I love you.” You said. It was endearing to hear your voice despite him being busy. Aside from it sounding so cute and hyped, he longed for your presence at times like this. It made him shy and laughed through the line as your smile got bigger. “Are you almost done?” 

“I will be home in a few minutes love. The event started a bit late and I’m just finalizing something then I’ll be on my way.” He reassured as your hand tightened its grip on your phone. 

“Don’t rush, Min. Will I see you with that fit when you come home?” You asked. 

“You most definitely will.” He said. “I love you, Y/N.” 

You didn’t know why a tear suddenly fell from your eyes that made you sit back down on the couch. There was something about that ‘I love you’ that made you emotional at some point. It is almost six years for you and him but there is no ring yet. How many times did Seungmin make you cry just because of a simple ‘I love you’? Many times, indeed. Multiple even. He is the perfect man for you and there’s no one could ever replace him in your heart. 

There were times you fought but it didn’t get to a certain level of toxicity and you’re thankful that Seungmin is the type to resolve a fight before going to bed. You weren’t in a rush to get married but you still wonder why Seungmin hadn’t asked you yet. On the other hand, you have to understand the barriers of this relationship for the past six years. He had given you those amazing years despite the busy schedule you both have. It doesn’t matter if you wed in a few months or a year, being together is all that matters. 

“I will wait for you to come home, Min.” You said in the most soothing voice. Your excitement cools down and is later replaced by longing, you can’t wait for him to come home. One single hug and a kiss would suffice. 

“I’ll send you a picture before I leave, okay love?” He said as you nodded in response albeit the fact that he won’t see it. 

“Okay, get home safely Min.” 

“I will and I’ll see you in a bit.” The phone call was cut off when Seungmin was called by his manager while holding a small shopping bag in one hand and left the area. Soon he was assisted back to the main venue and asked for the ring. His manager took out the small box and showed the dashing diamond and pearl being attached on top in one decent metal without getting the attention of the media. “This is good. Can you keep it for me? I don’t want Y/N to suspect me when I get home.”

“Of course, when will you pick this up?” His manager asked upon returning it to the bag. 

“I will call you,” Seungmin answered. 

“Okay then, I’m going to get the car ready. Are you sure you won’t stay for the after-party?” 

“No, I’m going home.” He said as the manager nodded and headed outside. 

Seungmin was later assisted by his bodyguards and bid goodbyes to the organizer and the rest of the staff telling them that he had a good time. He walked out of the venue with a polite smile and bows as he waved back to his fans who were screaming his name. The videos and pictures are already all over the place and he couldn’t wait to see your reaction once he gets home. He sat down in the backseat as his manager drove him back to your shared apartment and he didn’t forget about the picture he promised to send. 

“No one is looking at that damn ring, Kim Seungmin.” You muttered as you received the picture. It was just him sending a picture showing off his ring with his hand covering his mouth and half of his nose. You’ve sent a lot of emojis and memes in return as he chuckled with him getting shy about it while admiring how adorable you were. He couldn’t wait to hug you and smother you with kisses by the time he stepped into the entryway. 

Seungmin couldn’t contain his smile as he hurried to get on your floor the moment his manager dropped him off by the entrance and when he decided to open the door, he was welcomed by an excited hug. He was caught off guard but later laughed in response as he took you again in his arms, hugging you tightly. 

“I missed you.” He said as he buried his face on your neck. 

“We only saw each other this noon, Min.” You answered, kissing the side of his head before pulling away. “How’s the event? You look so good, by the way. You’re so handsome. My baby!” You cried with invisible tears feeling hyped about him. 

“Thanks love. It was bearable but good.” He answered as he kissed your lips. “I couldn’t wait to go home. How are you feeling?” 

“I’m better now.” You kissed him back. “Did you eat?” 

“I did but not that much. Are you hungry?” He asked, giving you another kiss on the forehead. 

“A little, I just woke up from a nap. Well, I don’t consider it a nap.” You huffed. “And I was about to cook but I got excited waiting for you.” You smiled at him as he giggled. 

“I’ll cook for you.” He said as he went to the kitchen where you followed him.

“No, you’re tired. I’m fine, you wash up and rest.” You argued. 

“I’m not the one fresh from a migraine, baby so sit down and let me cook.” He said playfully hitting you with a ladle while rummaging through the fridge making you frown in response. “Oh and by the way, Chan hyung called.” 

“What’s up?” 

“He asked if you could come visit the venue tomorrow. That is if you’re feeling better. We can re-schedule it.” He said with his broad back facing you and if you were really feeling better, it still feels like you are in a haze for having to admire his physique and that damn suit with his left ear pierced. Seungmin couldn’t hear a sound from you a few seconds after he asked when he decided to turn around and had you daydreaming. “Baby?” 

“Shush, I’m still trying to process how hot you look.” You said with that hypnotized smile with Seungmin snapping his fingers in front of your face. “No!” You whined in response. 

“Babe, you always see me wearing this type of clothes.” He laughed. 

“I do but it’s not every day I get to witness you being like this and this is one of your biggest events this year!” You argued. “And I love you in a suit. You did well at the event by the way.” You pouted, making him leave a kiss on your lips. 

“Are you sure you feel fine? Because you’re so sickly in love with me.” He smirked making you smack his arm playfully and roll your eyes only to return it with another kiss to shut you up. 

You melted in his touch and tasted the champagne he had from the formal dinner. His hand snaked around your waist to pull you closer to his body with his other hand cupping your jaw while tilting his head to the side for more access. Your hands reached for his sleeves, gripping them with your fingers as you moved your lips along with hisーfeeling the desperation and longingness. Seungmin’s lips linger longer, not wanting to let go of the moment. 

Soon he felt your hands wrapped around his neck as he deepened the kiss to savor the lost time with you. He hated to go to these events alone, especially without your presence. You also admit that you don’t want him to leave during the times when you need him the most. Seungmin on the other hand wanted to make up and not just by letting your lips dance together with your arms tangled around to keep your bodies warm and full of fondness. 

He loved every bit of moment you two have; whether it be a serious one or just playful. He loved everything that involves you. It doesn’t matter if you are fresh out of being sick, his lips didn’t want to leave yours as it makes him pull you closer even more. You smiled between the kiss as your fingers played with his supposedly wet locks that made him sigh on your mouth and went for a deeper one while biting your lower lip earning a soft moan from you. He pulled away and gave a peck on your lips before landing another one on your forehead as he took you again in his arms. 

“I love you so much.” He said. 

“I love you more.” You smiled against his chest while sniffing the lingering smell of his perfume. “And I love how you smell like.” 

“You love me that much, huh?” He smirks. Being in love with him is an understatement. No words can describe and match what you feel about him because you and Seungmin, himself, knew that it is much more than the word ‘love’.

“I always do but the food won’t cook itself if you’re going to keep flirting with me.” You told him as he laughed in return. 

“After this, I’ll wash up so we can eat. But you didn’t answer my question earlier love.” He said. 

“Oh right. Yes. I can visit tomorrow.” You smiled. “Chan left a message. He said I can come in the morning. Will you go with me? He said I have to meet the client by the afternoon so I don’t think I can come home early.” 

“In the morning? No. I need to take this suit back to my stylist and sign a few papers. But I can drop by in the afternoon.” Seungmin nodded. Way to go, Seung. One more lie and then you’ll be considered as a pathological liar. 

“Oh, that’s not a problem at all. I’ll be with Chan.” 

You indeed spent the next morning with Chan, your assistant, at the venue having to organize the remaining touches. Surprisingly, you are not supervising an apartment’s design but a venue for a wedding proposal. The alleged client hasn’t arrived yet, the only bridge you have with them is Chan. It’s not like you are suspicious but having to organize an engagement is not something you’d expect as an interior designer for homes, not a venue for a specific occasion. Either way, you are enjoying doing the set-up and couldn’t wait to witness a proposal. 

Chan was the one who supervised the venue while you rested as he sent all the measurements and FaceTimed you for a visual take these past days. Also, there’s this unexplainable smile plastered on your face as you gathered the materials for the finishing touch and guided the staff on where to put specific furniture in their places. And since you were informed that today is the day for both the client and his partner to announce their engagement, you are already dressed up in a white elegant dress with an over-lapping top-like vest. The length ended up in your mid calvesーthe right length for a formal event; not too long and not too short with your hair styled into (style of your choice) as a formality. 

You didn’t have any new dresses to wear and didn’t get a chance but a new one because of this damned schedule but little did you know, Seungmin brought you one. The dress laid by the end of the bed is what you see after getting out of the shower this morning. Confused as you are, you didn’t notice it earlier, or if Seungmin purposely leave it there when you weren’t looking. It was quite weird yet he was a lifesaver. 

The chandeliers were high as they matched the white sheer drapes hanging on the ceiling. The flowers were ordered based on the soon-to-be bride’s taste which happened to be your favorite flowers too with every color possible. From the lights to the floor plan, everything was based on the sketch you made that caused your headache but you are satisfied with the outcome of the venue. The client said that they wanted it to be special as you may add some personal touch which you did. 

You thought about Seungmin at some point. How would he make such a proposal if this ever crosses his mind? Will he see the hint when he gets here and watch the client propose to their partner? But then, just like any other careerman, he wouldn’t consider this for now. It hurts you a little bit after all this time of being in a relationship with him and yet he didn’t give you any ring, neither a promise ring just like you told him when you visited Japan two years ago. Yet, you’re happy with what you have right now. A wedding or no wedding, Seungmin is one faithful who cherishes you. Or that’s what you thought. 

“So, uhm, what time will he be here?” You asked Chan who is currently looking at the list of the things to be finished by the time the ‘client’ gets here. 

“Who?” Chan asked innocently, scratching the back of his head with the pen he was using. 

“The client?” You huffed. “You said he’ll be here. It’s almost 5.” Chan immediately glanced at his wristwatch and mentally cursed at himself. 

“That’s odd, he should be here to check. Let me make a call.” Chan said as he excused himself to go outside. You cocked your head as your hands rested on your waist with your tongue poking your cheek trying to be optimistic about what’s going to happen in a few moments. Being late is not your forte but it’s not my proposal anyway, you thought, and Seungmin is even not here yet. 

“Ms. Y/N?” Someone called as it took your attention. 

“Yes?” You asked, turning around to see the intern standing by the center part of the venue (where the client will ask their partner). 

“There’s something wrong in this set of flowers, Ma’am.” The intern said nervous about what she just said. 

You sigh gently in response as you take your way in her direction to check and while you’re at it, that was the signal Chan needed. He didn’t go out of the venue to make a phone call but to tell Seungmin it was his time to go inside as the intern distracted you with the flower problem. There was indeed, a flower problem. The colors didn’t match with the other sets and you were quite annoyed about the small detail being ruined. 

“I’m sorry, the florist probably messed up this set.” The intern said. It was on purpose. Everyone is involved.

“No, it’s fine. We can still fix it. I need some scissors.” You said. 

Seungmin took his chance while you were distracted. He hurriedly took out the ring and quietly stood behind you without making it obvious. The other staff and Chan, including Hyunjin who came to witness such an event gathered in their places for the surprise. Seungmin’s heart is beating faster and he did take time to dress up for his special occasion. With a black coat with a white polo inside, the black slacks paired up with black shoes, and a watch around his left wrist, he is dashingly handsome just to be able to match the dress he bought for you. His hair was styled the same as the TASAKI event yet his bangs were parted to expose his forehead that you always screamed about. 

He didn’t need to check the venue when Chan mentioned that you had already finished the preparation. During those sleepless nights and revisions, Seungmin always knew that you were good at doing your job. He did get worried about you finding out but he did great on not taking any actions that would spill his secret away and he also admits that it’s quite crazy that he made you prepare his proposal just to take time and not make it that obvious. 

In the end, he’s here now, waiting for you to turn around and say the words. It has been a wonderful five, almost six years of this relationship. Even though there were ups and downs, the challenges that put this affinity at risk, the people doubting it, and even questioning if there would be a possible marriage in the future, Seungmin was hurt and torn about those insignificant thoughts, especially if one day, you’ll decide to leave him but you are sure that it won’t happen anytime soon. He was overly thankful to you because, after all this time, you were the one who ensured to wait and trust him. 

He never lost hope. 

“Where are the scissors?” You asked, curious as to why the intern was taking so long, and turned around only to find your boyfriend with a big smile on his face. “Seungmin? What are youー” 

You were cut off when he suddenly went down with one knee and pulled out the small box from his coat’s pocket and opened it revealing the same ring you saw on your vacation two years ago. Tears suddenly streamed down on your cheeks because he remembered and this is the moment you’ve been waiting for after a while of thinking when he’s going to propose. 

“(Y/F/N), it has been an amazing five years with you and the word love is not enough to explain this feeling. I love you with all of my being and I’m thankful that you trusted me to take care of your heart. I know I have a lot of shortcomings in this relationship and saying sorry is not going to suffice but seeing you being true and giving your full trust in me made me think that I should do better to be the best boyfriend you could ever have.” He paused as his tears started to form in his eyes. You cover your mouth, speechless as you look at him, feeling as emotional as ever. He is good, so good at keeping this a secret, and quite smart for making you do the design of the venue, and yet, you didn’t think of anything right now. “I’ll give you happiness, my eternal love, my heart… I’ll protect you with all of my might if you just give me a chance. May I be your husband and spend the rest of your life with me?” 

You looked around and saw your friends and the rest of the staff giving you thumbs up and silent cheers, trying not to interrupt the moment. And without hesitation, you nodded. 

“Yes,” You said. “Yes! I would love to!” You exclaimed as Seungmin’s smile grew wider and took the ring from the box to slide it gently to your ring finger. It’s just the perfect size and a perfect choice for his beautiful fiance. 

The crowd cheered as Hyunjin and Chan popped the confetti, clapping and saying congratulations from here and there along with the rest of the staff and the popping of champagne. You couldn’t contain your happiness that you pulled him into your arms, giving him a passionate kiss to show everyone that it’s finally official. You’re getting married. He immediately returned the kiss and this time, it was so good that you couldn’t wait to experience it in front of the altar. 

“Thank you so much for saying yes.” He said pulling away not being able to mind the people around you. 

“And thank you for asking me, Min.” You said trying not to ruin your make-up with those precious tears. Seungmin kissed you again as his system got hugged by excitement. He too, couldn’t wait to seal this relationship in front of his friends and family. 

“Congratulations on your engagement, Seungmin and Y/N!” Hyunjin said approaching you with a bouquet of flowers as you pulled away from the kiss. 

“Thank you! And Hyunjin? Here, I thought you were the client.” You said as the guy shook his head in return, waving his hands intensely. 

“Not now maybe soon! Chan hyung here informed me about the preparations.” Hyunjin answered patting Chan’s back. “I still need to find the one.” He laughed which made Seungmin let out a smug smile. 

“Was this your plan?” You asked them as you took the bouquet. 

“We did plan to hire another organizer but Seungmin didn’t want a new one for the sake of this engagement. He wanted your personal touch to make it more familiar and comfortable.” Chan said with a sheepish smile and that’s when you looked at Seungmin who turned away as if he didn’t plan all of thisーall red out of embarrassment.

“Baby, you didn’t have to!” You said, playfully hitting his arm. “You have some explaining to do.” 

“We will leave you guys for privacy.” Chan smiled, nudging Hyunjin. 

“And don’t mind me dining at the buffet!” Hyunjin exclaimed and that’s when you and Seungmin were alone at the same spot he proposed. 

“So?” You asked him, raising a brow. 

“Fine, you got me!” Seungmin said, still wearing that happy smile of his. “Baby, I did have plans of proposing for a while but our schedules are always delaying my plan. When I was exclusively informed that I got invited to attend the TASAKI’s anniversary, I quickly took the bait and planned it immediately.” He started. 

“Is that why you were so busy these past days?” You asked again as he nodded, licking his lips while being caught red-handed.  

“I asked Chan hyung to pretend that you have a VIP client to push your other schedules and when you agreed to design the venue when, I, clearly knew that you’re not an organizer, still you did good about the place, all the flowers and the arrangements from the curtains to the chandeliers, tables, and the rest of everything, it made you distracted for a while.”He paused as he looked at you with those eyes. Those sparkling pretty eyes that you want to look at all day without getting tired of it. “I’m sorry that because of this immediate preparation made you sick along the way and was not expecting that I was the one who asked for it. I even invited Hyunjin. And those brand deals and signing of papers were just an excuse because I always visit the venue.” He said which made you tear up even more. 

“Why youー”

“And remember the ring we were looking at when we were in Japan? They had it on display at the event so I bought it and asked my manager to bring it home because if I did, you’ll suspect me. And I think I did good picking that dress for you.” He smiled, slowly leaning toward you as he kissed your forehead. “You look beautiful as ever.” 

Kim Seungmin. 

His name is what your heart screams for and his existence is the reason for its every beat. He is the single drop of sunlight from the heavens that grew a golden flower in your garden and the rain that quench its thirst from the drought. The bright moon on a dark night, the stars that illuminate the black sky, and the daylight you wake up to every morning. Not everyone in this world is given a gift that was molded by the gods themselves and delivered to you at an unexpected time. Love is not something you seek, it is given at a perfect time and Seungmin barging into your world as a client way back years ago is the time that you’d receive their gift. You still don’t know what you did to be blessed with such a perfect man but you are thankful for him. His love couldn’t match anything that he gives more of what you’ve been asking. 

“I love you so much.” You sobbed. “I don’t hate any of this even if I’m the one who designed it.” You laughed in between. “But I am so happy that you finally proposed. I actually thought it never crossed your mind but even if there’s no proposal, I am willing to stay either way and wait for you, Min. You don’t know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me for the past five, almost six years and I am so grateful to you for choosing me.” Seungmin looked at you with full admiration in his eyes. He wanted to kiss your tears away and make you the happiest person in the world. No, he didn’t regret choosing you. He may have been blessed by the heavens and Hyunjin for introducing you to him, and ever since he couldn’t get you out of his mind. 

“After all this time?” Seungmin tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “I love you, Y/N.” 

“Always.” As you gaze up at him, the warmth feels your body as you’ve always been sure you were going to spend the rest of your life with him. 

He watches you squeal and smile while showing off your engagement ring to everyone around after pulling away. Chan and Hyunjin were so smiley that they were glad that Seungmin finally came up with this arrangement. His eyes sparkled in awe like a puppy being finally accepted into a new family.

“See this?! This is what Seungmin gave me! He remembered the ring I wanted years ago.” You said in excitement. 

“I wish Seungmin would give me some too,” Hyunjin said playfully making Chan smack his arm. You look over your shoulder as your eyes meet initiating the sweetest smile you could ever show him out of joy. Seungmin was surrounded by his friends yet his eyes never left you. 

“I'm such a lucky guy.” He says under his breath. 

“Yeah, I know,” Felix answered while sipping a glass of champagne (he was late) but Seungmin didn’t mind as he continued to admire you from a distanceーready to face a new chapter with you.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　───　 @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow , @hanjsquokka , @suebin , @starlostastronaut , @stayconnecteed , @myjisung , @hwan-g , @arrasuh 　( open. )

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

Statistically Speaking...

part of the svt TA collab

kim mingyu x reader

word count: 21k

contains: TA! mingyu, fluff, smut [minors DNI], angst, statistics, ur honour they're stupid for one another, descriptions of stress exhaustion and burnout, academic burden, disagreements, mingyu is smart as hell, shitting on bad professors, smut but its a surprise [gyu gets his soul sucked while he's reciting statistical models I mean what]

words of conviction from @highvern: Kim Mingyu, total asshole , 1-800-HOT N DUMB , THEYRE IN LOVE MINGYU SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LOSER , sick fucking freak , i know when you wrote this you put your head in your hands , OHHHM YW GOD

synopsis: In all your years of academic endurance, you’ve never failed. A 100% success rate, despite you cutting it close at times. However, the line graph that is your life starts tanking somewhere around the time you began taking this hellsent Statistics in Psychological Research class. With a professor that wouldn’t know his ass from his head, and an overworked, overenthusiastic, and overcaptivating TA, it couldn't possibly get any worse than this. However, statistically speaking,…it could.

[a/n]: this fic is set in the same universe as @highvern's wonu fic endpoint [to be released], some insight for wonu's pov is included here as is some of Mingyu's pov in cam's fic if you'd like to see more about what happens in the gaps!!

I want to start by thanking everyone who chose to be part of this collab fic and for being the reason cam and I were able to open up @camandemstudios in the first place. everyone's been so kind and cooperative and I still cant believe we managed to convince such amazing writers to join us on this collab journey 🥹 I love u guys

Thanking my wife camothy @highvern for brainstorming with me since day one and for betaing for me. @seokgyuu and @miabebe for also looking over the doc and reassuring me. I'm for sure forgetting someone and I'm really sorry about that, know that I appreciate you just as much 🤍

on that note, I hope you guys enjoy this fic, im HELLA nervous for some reason so plsplspls remember to reblog and send me feedback on how you liked it, I will love you forever <333

masterlist

Monday

A normal person would’ve cried. Perhaps even sued the entire institution for all it was worth. Burn down the world, if it came to it. 

But as you stare at the tiny 37/100 on your screen, you feel…nothing. 

You could’ve said you saw it coming, which you did, but something about blaming someone else for an exam you took was beginning to feel a little manipulative. 

Clicking off the student portal, you huff loudly, five in the morning too early for you to begin breaking down over a grade that was completely unreflective of what you were taught. 

Or maybe it was, because as you count one, two, three hours till your dreaded Statistics in Psychological Research class, you can only hope you’ll hold back from spitting in your professor’s coffee. But alas, you can only shut your laptop harder than necessary for what it costs and push the grade out of your mind.

You were tired enough to sleep for a couple more hours, and you take it as an opportunity to spite the entire course by giving just as many fucks as your professor did.  

Which was little to none. 

That was a lie—on your part anyway. Because you continue to show up, and probably will until you can put this course and all of its trauma behind you. Even now as you feel the inclining beat of your pulse sitting in the white lecture hall, you know this is all but you versus the universe. 

Dr. Cho might as well have wheeled himself into the room on a skateboard with the way he struts into the room. 

He’s wearing a denim jacket with the sleeves cut off and jeans of a matching finish that do not fit him properly. There’s pins in every last colour on this earth, littering the front of his jacket with sayings that toe the silver controversial lining. There was one that said Vote for John F. Kennedy, another plain black one with I Eat Kids, and of course, the blaring Cunt written in cursive, pink sparkly letters. 

This man that’s pushing into his 60s stands before his slightly wilted class in his crocs, hands on his hips as he heaves a long breath. 

“I have to say, not the turn out I was expecting on that last report.”

He’s talking about the report you coincidentally failed, the same one you were pushed into with little to no direction and a deadline tighter than any you’ve had to bully yourself through. 

“All I can say is to read through the feedback I’ve given and try a little harder next time.” His voice is somewhere bordering comical exasperation. Feedback that consisted of sparing ‘?’’s and ‘no’’s with zero further explanation. He could say more, but you’ve learned that he simply chooses to not. 

Besides the man that drones in the front of the room, there’s another person in the other corner of the lecture hall. He’s hunched over a giant pile of papers, sifting through each and every one with a pen in his other hand. 

The TA doing a mundane task is somehow more interesting than whatever seminars of disappointment your professor was giving. He’s crossing something out on every single leaf of paper that he flicks through, and you vaguely wonder if those were today’s worksheets. 

“...and post hoc tests last week, we can start on Bayesian today. Mingyu will be handing out the tutorial papers.”

The poor TA looks like he thought he’d have more time, snapping his head up to look at the professor with an expression of pure incredulousness. He staggers for a moment before he’s flicking past the pages even faster somehow, striking out what seems like the same instruction in the giant pile of papers meant for an entire lecture hall. There’s a rustle as about a hundred laptops are being pulled out and booted up, waiting for the worksheets to land on the desks. 

You hear the familiar warble of papers being passed out and you watch as the TA pulls chunks of sheets out of the giant stack in his arms to slam down onto the front tables. 

“Pass it down, please… pass it down, please…”

There’s a voice that calls from one of the front seats, “What formula is the sheet talking about?”

Mingyu looks startled as he snaps back to look at the blaring empty whiteboard. In the midst of passing papers, you watch him sprint to the rolling whiteboards, pulling one of the giant flats of white over to the other side, the mechanism slamming into place with a louder than comfortable slam. It reveals another whiteboard underneath with the detestably long formula already written (and the one you’d have to figure out yourself).

 The professor remains with his chin in his hands behind his laptop, unphased. 

By the time you’ve registered the foreign symbols on the board, one of the tutorial papers has made it into your hands.

Sure enough, there’s a quick line across one of the steps with a thick black marker. 

Blinking hard, you attempt to pull yourself into the zone, staring at the white sheet with words that are barely stringing themselves together. Nothing out of the ordinary, especially as you lift your head to find hunched shoulders and furrowed brows all around. 

There’s one person that’s zipping back and forth, just like there always is. 

You watch as Mingyu hunches over certain laptops and whispers in rapid explanation before moving on to the next, a looming sense of dizziness that trails behind him as he shoots up the stairs to the back rows to help someone else. 

There’s a brief consideration to raise your own hand to ask for help, but one look at his disoriented gaze and the amount of hands that shoot up by the second, you guess it wasn’t going to help.

Back you go, hunched over the same wretched paper as everyone else, and praying for some divine revelation. 

Tuesday

Divine revelation did not come to you, but the good sense to make use of office hours did. 

So here you are, a printed copy of your supposedly horrid assignment and a pack of multicolour pens in your tote, and determination in your stride, you make your way to the department building. 

You’ve double, triple, quadruple checked the times to ensure you don’t dip in at the wrong moment, swiping open your phone to re-check the room number yet again. 

Standing outside the door, you knock with mustered confidence, waiting for something akin to an affirmative from the other side of the door. 

Nothing. 

You knock again.

Silence. 

You glance around the empty hall before grasping onto the cool brass handle of the door, wrenching it open just a peep. Poking your head in, you find the room…empty.

The chairs and tables that usually buzz with discussing students lay barren as you step into the room. Moving to look at the front of the room, you inhale sharply as you realise the professor’s desk has been occupied this entire time. 

Except he’s asleep.

No, that’s not the professor. 

Moving closer, you watch the way his back rises and falls ever so slowly, head resting on his arm as his hand hangs limp off the table. Whipping your head around with more attention this time, you attempt to find an explanation written on the walls. But there’s none, even in the papers that litter the table he rests his head on.

You don’t need to see his face to know it’s the TA. But as you stand in the empty room, clutching the straps of your tote, you aren’t quite sure what to do. 

Another glance around the table and you realise his laptop remains on, the screen yet to sleep. Before the obvious issue of a blatant invasion of privacy can befall you, you take a step forward to take a peek. 

It’s his schedule, a million colours blaring on the screen in a colour coded regard with barely any white spaces. It doesn’t take long to find his time slot for right now, red with importance. 

Glancing down, the man remains fast asleep, pen still in hand as it inks a faint line on the page. You look around the room for the nth time, taking constant glances back at his laptop that tells you he’s actively missing something right now. Clearing your throat, you hunch over a tad bit. 

“Um, excuse me.” He hardly moves. So you try a little louder, hunching over his sleeping form even further. “Excuse me.”

You could’ve sworn you heard a snore. 

Out of instinct, you bring a hand forward to his shoulder, shaking ever so slightly as you call for him again. “Excuse me!”

There’s a sharp inhale and he shoots up quicker than you can back away, ensuring you get an entire back’s worth of force as he bumps into you, hard.

“Wh–ow!” The noise is collective, yelps and thuds as you both back away from each other. 

“W–what’re you doing here?” he asks, hair still ruffled and eyes barely open as he stands at the table. There’s a bright yellow sticky note on his right cheek, ink scribbled on in something you can’t decipher.

“Um, it’s office—”

His eyes land on the same screen you were peering into just before and it looks like his life flashes before his eyes, widening at the sight as he slams around the table looking for something. 

“I have to go,” he announces, gripping onto an unstrapped watch as he registers the time, his other hand shoving his laptop and a few papers into a dark messenger bag. 

“Wait, isn’t it still office hours?” you call out as he whizzes past you. 

He’s swinging his bag over his shoulder and half tripping to the door as he calls out, “Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

“But—”

“It’s on the portal.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it—” he pauses as he exhales loudly, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to rub across his tired face. “I’ll double check. But it’s Wednesdays and Thursdays from now on. You can wait till I get back if you really want help.”

“How—”

A loud slam! of the door. 

“—long…” 

You’re left draped in silence yet again, the echoes of the slammed door ringing in your startled ears. It all happened too fast for you to process, blinking rapidly as you registered that you were now alone in the room. 

He said he’d be back, but left you with no indication as to when. By the looks of his god awful schedule, it looked like he had something else to attend to right after whatever it was he buggered off to right now. 

Fingers clenched into a fist, you consider your options. You could wait, sit on one of the desks and try to get some work done until he gets back. 

The universe gives you your answer as the door opens with a loud creak in the empty lecture hall. It’s another professor who looks quite startled to find an overenthusiastic student already present for class. 

She stares before craning to look at the room number outside the door, “Am I in the right room?”

“Uh, yes! I was just leaving,” you buffer out, moving to shuffle out immediately. 

You’re halfway out the door when you hear another call of an “Excuse me!”

“Are these your papers?” The professor’s full arms are up as she gestures to the still littered table. 

The No is ready on your lips. Until it isn’t. 

Later on, you’d consider how you left that room with an armful of papers that did not belong to you. How you’d ducked under the table to ensure you’d gotten everything, down to the leather strap watch with the cracked clock face. 

But as you stare at the stack of files and sheets that lay on your desk at home, you only know of the decent act that you’d committed.

And nothing of the hourglass you’d just turned over. 

Wednesday

In your Sent box are three emails sent on three separate days, all asking the same recurring question, all responding with the same recurring reply.

I wanted to confirm the days and times for office hours. I’m aware it’s on the portal but I’d like to reconfirm. 

Regards, YN

Dear YN,

Wednesdays and Thursdays. 4 to 6 PM.

Kim Mingyu, T.A. 

So there you were on a Wednesday afternoon, 3:59 PM sharp, outside the lecture hall where office hours have always been. With the same tote hung on your shoulders, with the same printed assignment and pack of multicolour pens, and a separated stack of files and folders, you wrench the door open with bated breath. 

The blended murmur of the usual hustle and bustle of the appointment reassures you first, the sight of scattered students of familiar faces reassures you second. And most of all, a conscious TA that sits at the professor’s desk, speaking to another student over a laptop screen. 

The man does nothing to acknowledge your arrival, continuing above the babble of students that occupy the chairs and the discussion. It isn’t too full, but considerably busy nonetheless despite how early you’ve swooped in. 

There’s a brief consideration whether this was in the TA’s job description at all, craning your neck to take a full sweep of the room to find a sparing glimpse of the man who should be here. The professor and his loud fashion choices are nowhere to be found. 

The sigh you let out is heavy and full of an emotion you cannot possibly begin to unpack, taking a seat on one of the unoccupied chairs to slump against. Shoulders sagging, you feel every fibre of your being screaming against your better judgement to pull out some work and to be productive while you wait. Reading over your failed assignment for the nth time, the same one that seemed to be some sick form of rage bait. 

You pull a couple things out so as to not look awkward sitting and staring into nothing on an empty desk, uncapping your pen and pulling up your sleeves like there was business to be done. Which there was, but none of which you wished to entertain. 

People watching, you realise, is a lot easier when most of the room is preoccupied with whatever it is they’re doing, too busy to notice your blank stares. 

The faces are familiar, none of which are people you’ve interacted with before but classmates nonetheless. The room is full of shaking legs, spinning pens and hunched backs, not an un-scrunched brow in sight. There’s a particular gaggle of girls somewhere around the front, their tables suggesting a work environment but between the whispers, giggles and glances to the front of the room, you assume there’s one thing in common the both of you weren’t doing. 

Speaking of the front of the room, your matched glance finds you face to face with the student at the main table in the middle of pushing himself off his seat. Your reaction is immediate, hand coming over to slam against the flat of your bag to find the lost straps, moving out of your seat as you keep your eyes on the front of the room. 

Bad luck must be a lover, because you realise quickly that somebody’s already beat you to it. Before you even noticed the first’s intentions to. The student stands beside the chair ready to keep it warm as the previous occupant leaves. 

Slamming back down on your own seat, you realise very quickly that trying to get an audience with this TA was going to be harder than you anticipated. There’s multiple other sounds of frustration around the room, and you doubt the slowly increasing pool of students was going to help anyone’s time management. 

Realising you needed to be a little more tactical if you didn’t want to sit here for the next month and half, you find an empty spot near the gaggle of girls you’d noticed before. It was right up front, just enough for you to hear when the conversation would begin to conclude at the main table. 

Once again, the TA doesn’t seem to notice any of the hustle and bustle of the room as his mouth continues to move rapidly, eyes on the question as he invests himself in his explanation. 

It was unfortunate that the only remaining seat was right next to the louder than necessary group, but you take it as a blessing anyway. It’s then that the one right next to you turns to stage-whisper to you. 

“Are you here to see him?”

You don’t expect a conversation, ears straining to eavesdrop on the other conversation in front of you to find your cue. You snap to look at her in surprise. “Pardon?” 

“Are you here to see him? Mingyu?”

“Uh—” Wasn’t everybody? “Yeah, I had a couple things I wanted to clear out.”

The revelation makes her shoulders drop as she lets out a loud sigh, “God, I can never get anything this professor says. I've been here nearly every week trying to figure it all out.”

“Yeah he’s a bit…unorthodox.”

“He’s unorthodox too.” She looks over to the main table towards the TA, chin in her hands as she gazes. “A face like that is rare.”

It wasn’t that she was wrong, it didn’t take more than a glance to convince yourself that Mingyu was possibly one of the more attractive people you’d meet in your lifetime. But the appeal lasted for all of five minutes for you, flitting away when you noticed that he dragged along a very…overwrought… suggestion wherever he went. 

It was clear he was stressed seemingly all year round, nearly just as relaxed as your professor seemed to be. 

But Mingyu was attractive. And you realise how much of a fool you’d sound if you admitted to anything other than such. 

“It is. His willpower’s somehow even rarer,” you add. “Don’t know how he does it.”

“God, tell me about it. Forget getting his number, trying to have more than a three sentence exchange with him without some statistical nonsense involved is near impossible.” Her face has fallen, a tight little frown on her face as she irritates herself with some other memory. 

Taking a glance down at her notes, you find the printed sheet littered with glitter gel pen ink lining the edges, doodles of stars and hearts and small anime characters next to p values and z scores. 

There’s a distinct sound of a chair screeching, and it’s like a large GAME OVER sign is hanging above your head. 

You jerk in your seat, like you could jump over the table and land in the emptying seat with some god-given stroke of luck, like the person already standing next to the chair wouldn’t hold a lifelong grudge against the insane girl with an unnatural acclimation to statistics. 

Although, nothing was more unnatural than the way this TA seemed to know more than the professor. Or you were just really behind. 

Alas, you don’t tumble over the table or kick back your chair, merely making a forceful motion in your seat, palms itching terribly as you watch the girl with her open laptop balanced in her arms move to take a seat. 

You were preoccupied, hence you do not notice that the TA has also noticed you. 

Suddenly, the girl looks startled as she’s told to wait. 

“She’s been waiting nearly a week, I really hope you don’t mind,” you hear him say, voice strained as you turn to look at him. His hands are outstretched to motion towards you a few feet across from him. 

For whatever reason, you had no thought that he might’ve remembered you. Something about his half asleep state when he’d spoken to you, perhaps he might’ve thought he dreamt it. Or he’d just forgotten it altogether. 

The girl glances at you, and her shoulders sag a little as she nods in formality. 

“Thank you.”

It comes out of both of you, snapping to look at each other hardly a moment as you go back to smiling at the retreating student. 

“You can come right after her,” he reassures, his own upturned mouth tired and fading. 

Never have you felt more awkward trying to come around the elongated student tables. 

You pause at first, staring at the table in front of you like it was worth trying to climb over or even crawl under it to get to the desk. Another moment of eye contact as he stares at your unmoving form with a blank look, and the heat pools your skin. 

Staggering for a moment, you end up moving past your chair and walking the way round anyway, the screeching of the chairs only nurturing the existing budding humiliation for no apparent reason. 

It only gets worse when you sit across from him finally, backside barely touching the plastic before realising you’d forgotten your bag in your seat. 

Mid smile in a timid greeting when you make a sound resembling something of an “Oh!” as you spring back up immediately. It’s easier to reach for your bag over the table you were sitting on, reaching across to grab it off your vacated seat. 

The girl you were sitting next to just before makes a motion like she’s trying to help and you have to remind yourself to smile at her as you retreat. 

Mingyu has the very beginnings of an amused expression on his face once you’ve finally made yourself comfortable across from him, clearing your throat just for something to do. 

“Right. How can I help you?”

Pulling out your printed assignment, you bring out the sheets of stapled paper to the centre of the table, writing facing him. 

One look at the sparse format of the cover page, he blows a full mouth of air at the sight of recognition. Without you having to say a thing, he flicks to the very last page, finding the rubric printed on a separate page. 

“It’s a 37,” you inform him like he couldn’t see the bold 37/100 in the bottom Total cell. 

“Do you think you deserved a better grade?” he asks. It would have sounded direct, an accusation even. But he asks with an intonation of genuinity, like he actually wanted to know. 

It stumps you regardless.

“Well…I know I can do better, at least,” you decide to answer. 

“You’re here, which means you’re at least willing to try. That’s a start,” he murmurs. His eyes are laser focused on the sheet beneath him, holding it open as his eyes move faster across the page than you can keep up with. Somehow talking to you while taking in the words on the paper.

“I remember marking this,” he says, looking up to address you. “Your concepts are nearly there, but your structure and presentation was off.”

“You marked them?”

He raises his brow, “I hope that wasn’t an accusation. I need to stick to the rubric.”

“I thought the professor marked the lab reports.”

“He’s…supposed to.” There’s a forced reservedness in his voice. “I mark them and he puts in his comments if he has any. But I’m not sure you’d fare any better than this if it was him behind that pen either.”

Every question that floated in memorisation, from the form and structure, to the nitty gritties of the data presentation, all evaporate as you realise you’re at a loss for words. 

Even more embarrassingly, you feel tears prick the back of your eyes. You don’t have an explanation, but it’s somehow easier to feel helpless in front of the man that’s meant to help you. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“That’s alright,” he says as reassurance, though it sounds awfully rehearsed. Like he has to say it everyday. “We’ll work through it.”

He lets out a big sigh, adjusting in his chair and running a hand through his hair. The motion has you noticing the dishevelled nature of the mop on his head, un-uniformed and sticking out at certain places, yet still somehow cohesive with his look. His shoulders are straight and taut, fingers working as they fiddle and flick the pen in his hand. 

Despite it all, his shirt is ruffled and creased, unbuttoned at the first couple steps. The buttons are misaligned, one side of his collar higher on his neck than the other. It takes an effort to not reach over and fix it for him.

“Lab reports can be quite tricky if you aren’t sure what you’re doing. Did you refer to the tutorial?”

You mean the one that did nothing to help? “Yes.”

“You got those bits right, format and whatnot. But—”

“It was a lump of writing about subheadings and word counts,” you say plainly.

Mingyu lips are in a tight line. “Well, yes, but it helps—”

“I know the results are supposed to go in the results section. I don’t need a PDF to tell me that,” you cut him off. Your voice is reserved, and you hope it comes off as a point across and not a complaint. Although it was a complaint. “I want to know why the entire section was ruled off as incorrect when we were never properly taught how to write it in the first place.”

“Dr. Cho—”

“Is no help.”

“I understand—”

“He can’t even mark his own papers. I’m quite sure that’s not in your job description. It’s supposed to be him here. Not you.”

It’s silent. There was nothing in your voice that suggested you wished to pick a fight, on the contrary, quite calm and matter of fact. Mingyu’s fingernails are going white as his grip on his pen and paper grow stronger. 

“And yet, we continue to show up. Because we do what we must.” He raises his head in control, a small smile on his face, eyebrows unnaturally raised. “And, better that I’m here rather than no one at all. I can help you too.”

Help, he did. 

Mingyu had made it quite clear his time with you was limited, but by the end of the near 25 minute session, nearly every inch of your printed assignment was covered in a rainbow of notes and corrections, additional papers and post-it notes pasted on the back as you remain careful to not lose them as you slip the stack in your bag. 

You only remember when you spot the segregated file of papers in your bag.

“I almost forgot,” you say, slipping the files and tidbits out and in front of him. 

“Where did you find this?” he asks sharply, eyes widening as sees the familiar blue. 

“You left them at the desk of the lecture hall last week,” you say, before quickly adding, “There was a class right after you left. I took them off the professor’s hands before they got lost. Thought it might be important.”

“I’ve been looking all over for these,” he says as he goes through the pages and files. Random sticky tabs and highlighted regions across the pages. The leather strap watch with the broken clock face remains on top, and he picks it up. He looks up to you with wide, sparkling eyes and a smile that feels genuine. “Thank you.”

You flush for some reason, “O–of course, couldn’t just leave them there.”

Pausing, you wonder if you should make the next comment, the words tumbling out before you can make a decision. “Maybe don’t run out of rooms still half asleep.”

By the grace of God, he laughs, “No, you’re right. I should be careful.”

It isn’t till you’re pushing yourself out of your chair that he continues. “You can come in at 3:30 tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

He’s stood up as well. “I have a free thirty minutes before office hours formally start. I can help you out a little more without the crowd.” 

Feet planted on the ground, there’s not much you can do but stare. “Um, sure. I can come in a little early.”

He nods casually, “Thanks again for the papers. And the watch.”

You smile, “No problem.”

Thursday

True to your punctual nature, you make yourself known at exactly 3:29 PM.

Mingyu is at the desk, conscious and on the phone, eyes closed as he rests his face on his fist.

“I don’t know if I can make time for that—no, I understand, sir,”

Another pause as the noise from his speakers fill his ears, his rubbing over his face a little harsher than you doubt he’s entirely comfortable with. 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

His phone hits the table with a heartbreaking thud, both hands covering his face as he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. 

“Light on your feet or something? I can never tell when you come in,” he startles when he notices you. 

Sheepish smile on your face, you move to sit down. “Sorry.”

You know it’s invasive, and you also know you might be asking him to break some unknown university code of conduct, but curiosity takes charge as you ask a casual question. “Important call?”

“Uh, yeah, um, just work stuff,” he states, shaking his head swiftly like he’s trying to shake the thought out of his mind. 

There’s a pause while you're slipping your papers and laptop out of your bag, during which he seems to have decided to divulge a little more. 

“It was Dr. Cho. More stuff for me to do,” he says. “As always.” 

“Does he do anything other than show up to class?” you ask through a snort. 

“Of course he does. He cusses out every article he doesn’t agree with, is anything but objective and…the occasional relay of blatant misinformation.” 

For the record, you’d never really heard Mingyu speak at all for the months he’d been TA-ing for the semester. It was small whispers of choice words in a vague voice, the distant murmur as he exchanged with the professor too far for you to hear. 

The voice of the seemingly quiet and diligent TA was never known to you, not until yesterday as he explained statistical models and the flaws of your data presentation. 

Passionately too. Incredulous for a discipline so dry and unapproachable. 

That being said, something about the grit in his voice as he positively sneered through his teeth, badmouthing his professor—it was something you couldn’t quite believe he was capable of. 

“I’m sorry you have to put up with him.”

Once again, by whatever stone of tolerance the universe bestowed in his heart, you watch him sigh and smile, “Anything for that recommendation. And the pay too, I suppose. Besides, he’s done a lot for the area, can’t discredit him entirely.”

With your eyebrows raised, he seems to catch your expression. He pants out a laugh, and your stomach lurches as you watch it reach his eyes, teeth on display, a lurch in his chest; a true laugh. 

Raising his hands in surrender, he responds, “I’m stuck.”

There’s nothing you can do to stop the smile that reaches your own face, turning your laptop screen towards him with the JASP software display. “I am too. Help.”

Help, he does.

Monday

Mingyu ended up giving you an entire hour on that Thursday. 

The thirty minutes before office hours began soared by like they were nothing, and you were ready to take your leave the minute students began to scatter in as the clock hit a swift four. Except he kept going, another 30 minutes in deep concentration as he retaught you nearly everything from scratch. 

Perhaps his proven determination to ensure you don’t tragically fail is what prompted you to do this, standing at the till of your regular coffee shop as you ask, “Make that two, please.”

It might also be important to mention the 7:30 AM on the dial on a bright Monday morning as you walked into your slightly less dreaded Statistics in Psychological Research class, knowing there would only be one other person insane enough to get to the lecture hall this early. 

Something isn’t right. 

Mingyu is in a position all too familiar to you and everyone else who shares this class, hunched over something or the other in deep focus. The sun pours in through the lifted blinds, the lights of the class turned off as natural light does more than enough of the job. 

It also shows you a blaring hot pink post-it note on his face, all too familiar to a previous interaction you’ve had with him. 

He notices you before you need to announce yourself, brows separating as he recognises you in the doorway. “‘Morning!” 

“...Morning.”

“You’re early,” he comments, straightening his back with a hand behind him for support as you approach. 

“Figured we both needed this,” you hand him a tray with his cup of coffee, eyes still trained on his lower cheek with the paper stuck to it. “It’s a latte with no sugar, but I added a couple packets on the side anyway. Just in case.”

“O–oh, thank you. And you’re right I did need this.”

Now that you’re closer, the scrawled writing on the post-it note is clearer. 

To Do:

Call mom

Shoot myself

“You, um—” It’s alarmingly difficult for you to say it, despite the words being so simple. Hey! You got a lil’ something on your face.

But all you do is dumbly point to your own cheek, eyes trained on the loud piece of paper that tells more than he might like the world to know. 

There’s a loud slap of his hand on his own cheek as he crumples the paper in his hands, bringing it forward to see. “For fuck’s sake.”

“It’s okay! I wanna…shoot myself too sometimes.” 

What the fuck?

“I mean!” you correct louder than you anticipated, before covering with a laugh. “It’s okay, it happens. Good thing I caught it before someone else did.”

It’s all the more petrifying when your voice echoes across the blatantly empty lecture hall, reverberating like it was a punishment for you and your horrid lack of volume control. Meeting his eyes feels like a sin right now, so you keep them downcast and pray he doesn’t try to sabotage your education. 

“Good thing it was just you. Yeah.”

Just you.

“Anyways, I think I’m done with prepping for class. Do you wanna squeeze in twenty minutes of ANOVA?” 

“Have you seen the time?” 

“Not a morning person?”

“Nope!”

“And yet it’s 7:40 on a Monday morning and you’re absurdly early.” His brows are raised as he pulls around the professor's chair to bring it to you. 

“Do you want the coffee or not?” you ask, watching as he drags another chair for himself. 

The both of you sit away from the professors table, coffees in hand as you watch Mingyu run a hand through his hair. 

He gives you a crooked grin,“I apologise.”

“To be fair,” he continues. “I’m not much of a morning person either.”

You narrow your eyes the slightest bit as Mingyu takes a sip of his unsweetened coffee, “I’m starting to think no money’s worth this job.”

Mingyu snorts, coffee suspended in his full cheeks. He swallows with much difficulty before answering, “You’re right. Not sure why I’m still here either. I could get an offer from another professor.”

“And that isn’t happening because…?”

Elbows on his knees, Mingyu swirls his capless coffee cup, the beige liquid moving in a growing tornado. “I like Dr. Cho.”

“You—”

“I know,” he laughs loud, a deep, echoing sound that shakes in your ears. “I know. I sound like a lunatic.”

“I don’t know about lunacy, but insanity can have its reasons.”

“Another would argue that insanity was the very absence of reason.” 

“Don’t get smart with me.”

“Excuse me for doing my job.”

He takes another sip of his coffee, and you ask again, “No, but really. I can’t imagine this man having too many redeeming qualities as an educator.”

Mingyu lifts his chin as he presses his lips together. “When I was in my first year, there was this other class I had where we had to write a lab report for the first time.”

“PSYCH101?”

“That’s the one. I’d never written one before, but I liked statistics enough to do a little more digging than what the assignment called for. I ended up finding one of Dr. Cho’s studies, read the entire thing, word for word. I was up all night reading nearly everything he’d published, some of ‘em before any of us were even born.” 

“Oh. So you’re a fan.”

“Everyone tells you to never meet your idols,” he snickers. “He’s done amazing things, but I guess he pays for it with his flawed personality.”

“I’m sorry it had to be you,” you half joke. 

Mingyu looks at you sheepishly, “That might also be my own fault.” 

“Don’t tell me you offered.”

“I might as well have. All my assignments referenced his work the most. I was always talking to him about upcoming research after class, and it was like he was a different person. Forget differing opinions, some of what he was saying was just…plain incorrect. He welcomed the argument though, and I couldn’t—can’t—stand listening to someone spew nonsense when I know it’s not true. He was always emailing me extra resources which…I’m pretty sure he isn’t supposed to do. Only reason I did so well in his class was because I taught myself.” 

He sighs a loud sigh, straightening his back, “I guess he liked me more than I thought, because next thing I know I’m getting a call over the summer telling me I have a job.”

“Did he…have a TA when you were in his class?” 

“Four.”

“Four?!”

“Two at a time. All of ‘em quit at some point. Said they didn’t want the recommendation or the pay.”

“Would he…not give you a recommendation anyway? You said he liked you.”

Mingyu shakes his head solemnly, “He’s a tough cookie, everyone in the field knows that. If you’ve impressed him, you’ve impressed everyone.”

You take a moment to really absorb everything you’ve just learned. “That’s a sucky position you’re in.”

“Tell me about it. But it’s okay. Three—three and a half more months to go? This isn’t even the worst of it, I’m just dreading study week when I’m gonna have to handle all the crying.”

You wince as he mentions something even remotely close to exam season, still barely at a stage where you can accept you’d be alright with this class. 

“I know you’re not nearly as qualified or experienced as him, but I think you could take over his class.”

“Ever heard of barriers to entry? I’d be ruined if I wanted a career in this.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “All I’m saying is I’ve learned more from you in barely a couple hours combined than the last two months I’ve spent cursing this very lecture hall.”

If you weren’t lying to yourself, you could’ve sworn you saw a blush creep up his face, and paired with his shy laugh and hand at the back of his neck, you can’t help but bite back your own smile. 

“If I can help you then it’s worth losing myself.”

Your heart is in your fucking throat.

“I’m glad when students tell me that,” he continues, utterly oblivious to the landslide happening in your digestive tract. “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right.”

“You’re—” you swallow thickly because you sound like a toad. “You’re doing more than just something right. You’re saving us therapy and an extra semester.”

He laughs at that, and you wish he’d let you breathe. 

“Feels like I’m doing something wrong sometimes,” he huffs. “My friend’s a TA too and he’s got himself a girlfriend on top of everything else he’s got going on.” 

He goes on, “Do you know how many times I need to ask people to quit twirling their hair? To look at the page and not my face? Asking for my number, I have an email for a reason, for fuck’s sake—”

Mingyu is cut off because you’re laughing, hand to mouth as your shoulders shake through your sniggering. “W–what?”

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup. “It’s just…It sounds like you don’t know what you look like.”

“What’s wrong with how I look?” he frowns.

“Nothing!” you exclaim. “But that’s the problem isn’t it.”

Mingyu doesn’t seem to buy it, even through your coaxing as you attempt to explain to him that he is, in fact, desirable.

“Can’t possibly be enough to distract people,” he huffs in earnest, still hung up on the students he can’t get through to. 

“Majority of the class would beg to differ.”

There’s a pause as he registers what you imply. 

After a few moments, he drops his head, opening his mouth, “Would… you also—”

There’s a loud creak of the door as you hear the immediate noises of shuffling feet and chattering mouths, as low and tired as they sounded. Turning back to look at Mingyu, he’s already jumped out of his seat, wrist to face as he checks the time on the same leather strap watch you returned. 

“That’s our cue,” you breathe, pushing your chair back behind the professor’s desk as you manoeuvre around Mingyu who’s suddenly frantic. 

Of course you realise there’s people other than just the two of you in the room, heightened in seats that are designed to ensure they can absorb every detail that goes on right where you stand in the front of the room.

But you feel the soft of Mingyu’s shirt over his wrist as you give him a gentle squeeze despite it all, barely enough pressure. Half your index finger brushes the skin of his hand, just enough to register how cold your fingertips are and how warm his body is. 

“Relax,” you whisper. “You’ll be better off without all the panic.”

You don’t see his face as you brush past him and up to your seat, looking up to see him disappear somewhere in the corner hunched over another stack of papers. The next time you see Mingyu’s face is when the professor arrives and has begun his regularly scheduled tomfoolery, and realise all the age that can accumulate in the span of five minutes. 

Thursday

Midterm season is nothing you’ve ever really had to worry about. 

Something about the halfway point did make it obvious that the clock was ticking, but danger was far enough away to prevent the ultimate breakdowns reserved for the peak seasons. 

Except this class isn’t ordinary, and it’s all you’re able to worry about all semester. And as Dr. Cho in his Thrasher vest announces the date for the in class midterm, the glass once half empty, suddenly looks very half full. 

“I’m not ready.”

“You’re more ready than anyone else in class.”

“How do you know that?”

Mingyu stares at you blankly, “If I don’t know that, then who else does?”

You have tears in your eyes, which is embarrassing enough since this is the second time you’ve teared up in front of him, but also because you’re in a library following Mingyu around like a lost duck because he insists on putting the books he borrowed back onto the shelves himself after registering the return. 

“But I don’t feel like I’m ready,” you whine, turning the corner as he searches for the last spot to place his final book. 

“You’ll realise just how ready you are when all those hieroglyphs on the page start to make sense to you,” he grunts the last bit out as he reaches on his tippy toes to shove the book back up. 

Dusting his hands off, he adjusts his shirt before turning to you, “You only feel that way because I’ve been giving you harder problems to work on. You’re past the level you need to be at right now. Trust me, you’re more than prepared.”

“But—”

“Listen,” he waves to the librarian as you both leave the library, your eyes still glistening as you fiddle with your sleeves. “It’s only the midterm—”

“Only the—”

“If this goes wrong, I’m just gonna have to work you harder for the real thing. Even though I know it won’t go wrong because I said so.”

You fall into silence as he walks you towards the coffee shop across the courtyard. 

“I’m assuming…” you start. 

“Hm?” he looks over to you.

“I’m assuming you can’t hint at what’s on the paper.”

Mingyu barks out a laugh of disbelief, “You assume correct. I’m not going through hell with this job just to lose it because of a paper leak.”

“But it’s just the midterm,” you mumble, not even close to remotely audible. 

“What did you say?” Mingyu smirks. 

“Nothing,” you huff.

“You know, I’m a little offended you don’t trust me.”

“Who said I didn’t.”

“Well then, stop being such a worrywart.”

There must be something written on your face, because as you pass Mingyu standing at the door he keeps open for you, entering into the coffee shop with fallen shoulders, he seems to change his mind. 

He brings you a coffee, sits you down, and gives you something else you need. “I made the paper. Every question. And I taught you. Every concept. So I definitely know you’re gonna be fine.”

In that moment, with the large glass walls of the warm coffee shop, the afternoon sun comfortably resting on every last object of the room, you don’t see it illuminate anything other than the man before you. 

Perhaps you're being dramatic at the revelation, but you don’t take anything into account as you note Mingyu’s eyes and how they sparkle like they were gifted from the centre of a flaming volcano, brown and polished more than any jewel or stone you’d ever seen. Reaching out to touch him, you know you’d feel nothing but smooth stone, the indentations only possible by a being beyond what you could comprehend. 

He’d given you more than just reassurance, and at times, his timing makes it feel like he was sent from the heavens itself, just for you. 

You sniffle. 

His hands brush over yours as he hands you a napkin, and even more so, cover your own as he takes your freezing fingertips into his own palm, the contact burning you like hot coal. 

You know he’s real. And you don’t know why quite just yet, but that reassurance is enough to give you calm.

Monday

You were alright, but it seems that Mingyu seemed to disintegrate right after he was done reassuring you to the moon and Saturn and Jupiter and back.

It’s midterm day, and as always on every Monday morning, you enter the empty lecture hall with two warm coffees in your hand, ready for whatever shitshow you’d have to perform for today.

It seems Mingyu must defect from at least one regular string of behaviour to remain as Mingyu, who on this occasion, stands before you in a baby blue polo sweater. 

Except you only know that because you can see the unique collar, but it might also be important that his back is turned towards you. 

“Morning, champ,” he gruffs, nothing encouraging about his voice in the slightest. 

Your breath hitches when you finally see his face, eyes sunken in and face pale. His lips are chapped and peeling, eyes half closed. 

“Why’re you looking at me like that, why has everyone been looking at me like that?” he huffs in one long, rapid question. 

“Um, I mean,” you stare at his shirt that’s backwards. And inside out. “I can’t tell if that’s a choice or a mistake.”

Looking down at his front, he looks back up, “What?”

“Your collar is…not at your collar, Mingyu. And your shirt’s inside out.”

Hand at his nape, he reaches his fingers down and finds the unmistakable starched planes of his collar, eyes closing at the realisation. He’s immediately pulling his arms out of the shirt with his eyes still closed like it’d all disappear if he keeps them like that. 

“Wait!” you exclaim before he strips entirely, scrambling to put your coffees down to push him out of the room towards the restrooms. “Do you wanna strip for the CCTVs?”

You only hear him sigh as he moves out and into the hall, doors closed behind him. 

You’ve nearly forgotten about the midterm at this point, your concern now growing in a completely different direction. By the time Mingyu returns, he’s blabbing about wondering why everyone he ran into since he left home was giving him the strangest looks, and then something about you always swooping in to save him before the real bout of disaster strikes. 

It’s hard for you to listen to him when you’re more worried about him passing out, his face doing him no favours to reassure you that he wasn’t a breathing corpse. 

“Mingyu…did you sleep at all?”

“Hm?” His eyes are glazed over and unfocused. 

“Sleep? Rest?”

“Oh,” he frowns. “Not really. I had emails coming in all night.”

“And you were replying?”

“It's the midterm today,” he responds flatly, like it should’ve been enough explanation. 

You almost don’t believe him. “Doesn’t mean you stay up to answer something that should’ve been cleared out beforehand!”

“Couldn’t just leave them to fend for themselves,” he dramatises. 

“Yes, you could!” Your voice comes out louder than you expected, eyes wide as you realise what he’s doing to himself. “You barely look human and it’s only the midterm.”

“What’re you trying to say?”

“I don’t know if this job is really worth as much as you think it is.”

Mingyu’s jaw is clenched, fists tight as he releases them to grip paper weight on the desk, knuckles white. “I can’t get anywhere if I don’t—”

“Mingyu, please. This isn’t good for you.”

He says your name. Declarative, almost like a warning. “If you think this job isn’t worth it then you just don’t know.”

“Mingyu—”

“No, you don’t, because I’ve seen how good of a job I’ve been doing.”

“You have, you’ve been amazing but—”

Mingyu’s own voice is raised, a hard impenetrable floor to the words he spills. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You look like a corpse!”

And then he’s getting out of his chair with so much force it almost knocks it backwards, “Why on earth do you care so much? So what if I look like a corpse, if I‘m doing my job?” 

It might’ve been better if he knocked the chair right into you, your breath dissipating in your chest like it never existed. His face is morphed in an expression of exasperation your anxieties fear the most, every line on his face committed to irritation and anger. 

Why on earth do you care so much?

Right. Why do you? 

“Are you asking me that?”

“What?”

“Are you asking me why I care?” 

Mingyu only sighs, shoulders dropping and eyes closed. Like so many times before, you watch run a hand through his hair, except this time he yanks on the strands harder than ever before. 

His eyes are bloodshot. 

“I have to get the exam pack.”

Marching out the door in front of your own eyes, you’re left with a feeling that’s right in the back of your throat, curling and whirling into something you wish you could hack and gag out. Gripping the corner of the professor’s desk, you feel the peeling wood cut into your skin. 

There’s a draft, the delayed slam of the door has only hit its wind now, a delayed reaction. It’s like it registers in your mind as you feel strands of your hair shift, the clarity that comes with it.

Delusive. Chimeric. Cruel.

Everything you’d subjected upon yourself. A whimsical fantasy between pages of logic and numbers, a story that simply didn’t fit where the laws wouldn’t allow it. 

The null hypothesis of your most elaborate nightmares.

Monday

Your favourite commonplace box, where your mother once placed all her most prized jewels, had a finicky latch. 

It wasn’t broken, simply worn in from years of opening and closing. It took a few tries to get it shut. Simply pressing down with pressure didn’t work; you had to open it again, press down on the individual elements of the latch and then try again. 

You were never satisfied until you heard the distinct click of the latch fixing itself, the box closed and ready for you to hook your lock through.

Earlier on in your undergraduate career, you remember a professor talking about the effects of external factors on the mind, how they can sometimes cause it to ‘shut down’ when overwhelmed or stressed. 

It’s happened to you on many a occasion; like when you stayed up too late on a school night to watch a documentary about the Stanford prison experiment, or when you’d neglect food or water on busier days, or when you’d stop paying attention in class because you were too preoccupied thinking about Taco Tuesday. 

Regardless, you’d found a way to recognise when your brain would fall into some strange kahoots with daydreams, or whatever was bothering you, and learned ways to give yourself a reset. 

Pressuring and forcing the attention wouldn’t work, just like how the latch wouldn’t fit when you’d do the same with your beloved old box. So you’d take a walk, drink something cold, spray yourself with a garden hose, or even take a nap altogether. Opening yourself up, so the latch can finally click. 

On the morning of your midterm, when you’d ensured your brain was in optimal condition for the exam you knew would be one of the worse ones you’ll have to take, you were sure the only external force that could ruin your vibe was from God himself. 

Having been so preoccupied with your mind and its functions, you’d seemed to have forgotten where your heart had wandered off to. 

Somebody else might consider it a minor disagreement; an anxious squabble if you will. But your breakfast in your throat was enough reason to deem what happened that morning much more than that. At least for you. 

“Pass it on, please…pass it on, please.”

The sound of his voice is tectonic. Rattling in your head like a superior force had slammed into your skull like a padded hammer to a gong. 

You hated it. You hated everything. You hated yourself. And as the midterm paper reaches you with your pen in your clawed fingers, the first three questions already making perfect sense, you realise you hated Kim Mingyu the most. 

That was a lie. You were lying to yourself, yet again. 

Because it was quite the opposite. You couldn’t hate him. 

As you drift past every question of conditional experiments and screenshots of data and tables on a software, you hardly remember what you circle and what you don’t. Hardly remember what words you picked for the short answers and labels. You hardly remember taking the steps down from your seat to the front of the room, where the professor sat scrolling through his Skateboarders [!MEN ONLY!] facebook group, placing your paper down and leaving the classroom. 

Throughout your years of living, you’d learned what you needed to get your brain out of its clouded muffle, to refocus when you needed it. 

Everything. You tried everything. 

But on that day, when it mattered most, your latch never clicked.

It’s Wednesday. 

You order lunch from the Italian place a few streets down. Ravioli; it’s safe and you know you’ll like it. 

Savouring it is easy in front of another true crime show. You pull a lone soft drink from your fridge, one that your friend left weeks ago. It tastes just as bad as the last time you tasted it from someone else’s cup, but you drink it anyway, the empty can now in your trash. 

It’s 3:30 PM, and you sit at your desk. It’s strange. It feels like you’re missing something, which in ways, you are. But as you pull your laptop from your nightstand instead of out of your bag, you slow your movements. 

The papers are the same. But you read them anyway. 

Parameter estimation: Make inferences on characteristics of the population, including distributions of the variables and the effect of one variable over another. 

It’s accursed the way the universe won’t let you live. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue, estimation cannot be perfect. 

Estimation cannot be perfect. 

[_]

It’s Thursday

Class. Eat. Drink. Work.

Hypothesis testing: Determine whether null hypothesis is rejected or not after data observation. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue, no null hypothesis in bayesian approach!!

[_]

It’s Friday

Eat. Drink. Work.

Latent means to have meaning but is yet to be manifested. The greek letters are placeholder values for values yet unknown. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue; values that you will find out

[_]

It’s Saturday

Eat. Drink. Work.

P(A|B) = [P(B|A)P(A)

              ——————

                     P(B)

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue;

 it gets less complicated

 promise :/ 

[_]

It’s Sunday.

Eat. Drink. Work.

The page is blurry. Your eyes hurt. 

There’s a scribble in the corner in a dark blue;

you’ve got this!!! < 3

You give up.

It’s Monday.

8:14 AM. 

You barely glance at the front of the room; swift turn to the left and right up the steps. Dr. Cho’s outfit almost goes unnoticed by you, tamer than most. Bright Barbie pink with large polka dots, untucked into too tight white jeans. His crocs are sparkly, at least that’s what the twinkle from up here looks like. 

He’s insulting another author, the man’s ProQuest journal article open for the world to see like a mediaeval scandal. 

There’s another person next to the whiteboards, back to the wall, hands clasped in front of him. His hair is messy, shooting lasers into the carpet as he rocks the slightest bit, listening to the professor rip this author to shreds. 

An hour later, you’re staring into the JASP software like it was written in a different language. 

Glancing next to you, the boy in the spongebob hoodie is playing sharkboy and lavagirl by himself. On your other side, the girl has the same thing as you open on her laptop, her pen occupied with drawing about a hundred tiny gojos on a bright pink sticky note. 

Bright pink sticky note. 

You snap your gaze back to your screen quickly after that. 

9:58 AM. You start packing up, shoving everything into your bag. 

Dr. Cho doesn’t even notice you slip out of the room, hardly a minute to the end of the lecture.

In the hallway, you take your first real breath in two hours. 

It’s Tuesday.

You’ve come down with something, head heavy as you feel yourself burn up. Skipping class is easy when you sleep through your alarm and every phone call from a friend asking where you are. 

They drop by, armed with medicine and soup. You almost feel better. 

It’s silent after they leave, and you realise in that moment how much you hate it. 

Opening your laptop for the first time in over 24 hours, you turn on a random podcast to play in the background, needing something to fill the air before you lose it entirely. 

The screen lands right where you left on the incredulous data presentation, unsolved tutorial paper crumpled between the screen and keyboard like a wilted leaf. 

Hot, scalding tears sting your eyeballs when you realise there was nowhere to turn to.

It’s Wednesday.

After a long day of doing nothing, still sick from whatever plagued your body, you go to bed earlier than usual.

It’s Thursday. 

Walking out of class, your mind is empty. You’re still sniffling, still achey, but better than you were. The shawl wrapped around you is warm, and your hood covers the cold tips of your ears. 

This other class makes you feel better about yourself, especially when the content is digestible and so is the professor. The TA feels like a mere accessory in the room, something you’ve learned to appreciate. 

With your gaze lowered, you only see midriffs as you walk out the classroom into the busy hallway. 

It happens in an instant, the flash of a clenched hand as the owner walks by in quick stride. An unmistakable leather strap watch with a broken clock face on the wrist.

You freeze like you’ve been caught. 

The hard bump of someone coming out the room behind you is welcomed, the annoyed “Hey!” knocking you back to earth before you could even exit the dimension. 

You’re off centre. But it’s fine. 

It’s Monday.

“Midterm results are out Tuesday morning. If you have any questions I’ll be sitting at office hours on Wednesday and Thursday, four to six in the evening. Or you could send me an email, either’s fine.”

Dr. Cho isn’t here. Something you only found out when the pitt sank in your stomach as Mingyu cleared his throat at the full hour. 

You want to leave, not caring about how strange it’d look if you did. Not caring about how he would definitely notice if you did. You want him to shut up, to stop talking, for anything to halt the way his voice infiltrates your entire being, talking about things you don’t understand but more familiar than anything else. 

Mingyu’s voice is hoarse, and you loathe the way you can tell the difference. 

It’s Tuesday.

Midterm Results for Statistics in Psychological Research.

—  92/100

It’s Wednesday. 

4:10 PM. It’s almost too much for you. Almost. 

The screech of the door is loud, the slam of the handle’s rebound even more so. The room doesn’t so much as glance at you at the door, the half full seats preoccupied with more important things. 

The front desk perks up immediately, eyes shooting towards the door for the nth time that day, like he was expecting someone that never seemed to show up. 

It’s ironic, you think, how Mingyu never seemed to notice you walk into the room for the many months you’ve walked in just for him. And now, as you walk in fists clenched and jaw set, eyes wild and burning, he’s breaking away from a student to look at the door before you even come into view. 

“Did you feel bad?” you spit.

“What?” he whispers. He seems to come around, glancing back before continuing, “Can we talk? Please.”

“Answer the question, Mingyu,” you snap. You don’t care there’s a confused student sitting right across from the both of you, his slot interrupted by your barge. “Did you feel so bad you had to give me something I didn’t earn?”

He’s stood up now, half confused. “Is this about the midterm—”

“I did not get a ninety two, I know I didn’t,” you grit. “Whatever happened before that stupid paper made sure I wouldn’t.”

Mingyu says your name and the sound makes you want to vomit. “What makes you think I’d do something like that?”

“I don’t know, maybe because I fucked up because of you?” you announce, louder than before. 

The world disappeared, your tunnel vision pointed at Mingyu’s face that wears an expression you cannot even begin to read. The unbecoming tears in your eyes are of a type of unadulterated rage you’ve felt only a few times before. Your heart is going about a million miles a breath, everything else only triggering an added bout of infuriated tremble in the forefront of your emotions. Nothing makes sense. 

Mingyu pushes back his chair in silence, stalking over to a large cupboard in the corner of the room. He shuffles around for a minute before returning. 

There’s a packet being thrust into your fists when he reaches you. He does not meet your eyes. 

A bright red 92/100 marks the front page.

“Here. It was all you, if you can’t believe me.”

It’s a careful mark, unmistakable lines and curves of the nine and the two. 

Reality is slow to sink in, but for some reason it’s only making you angrier. The paper curls under the pressure of your fingertips. You don’t open the packet. You refuse to flick through the pages. 

Because you know you’ve lost.

It’s Thursday. And it’s full of regret. 

There’s a sickness in you, from that dreaded day, something beyond what affects your body temperature and your energy. It’s in your mind, flooding the nerves that swim through every crevice and cave of your brain, a physical venom that does the opposite of kill but also the opposite of letting you live. 

There’s a feeling in you, that even if you were to open your mouth, unhinge your jaw, try to scream as loud as your throat would allow, there would be no sound. Something like a horrible dream, that you need to screw your eyes tight shut to fall out of. Except you aren’t waking up from this one. 

In a coffee shop, where Mingyu held your hand in a reassurance you now bleed for, you were sure he was real. Real like some deiform image; too good to be true. 

In your bed, dry tears on your face, midterm packet sifted through that showed you absolutely everything that you did right, thanks to him. He feels too real. Real like a cloud of obsidian that follows you everywhere, like the sad that’s been sleeping with you every night. 

If there was a way to hate someone more than a human limit, you’ve crossed it with the resentment you’ve now fostered for yourself. 

Barging into office hours like that, accusing him on a basis of nothing but your own dangerously stewed thoughts. If there was a hope of salvaged parts, you took a hammer to it in disregard; tearing it to ribbons that lay at your feet. 

It’s Friday.

At least it was. It bled into Saturday before you realised the 3:23 AM on the dial. 

Two weeks of no help and you already feel lightyears behind. The hour is getting to you, and you feel the frustration pool into tears, that turn into full fledged sobs. You’re crying over Bayesian inference and it’s somehow more pressing than any other emotion you’ve ever felt. 

Impossible numbers on your data sheets taunt you, not a single reference to if it was a button you clicked wrong or if you were playing a fool’s game altogether. 

Ding! You pick up your phone, the weight of it is enough gravity to pull you back to earth. 

[Mingyu]: switch to bF10 

[Mingyu]: you’ve been pulling numbers from bF01

It’s immediate the way your eyes dart towards your lit screen, clicking off tables to get to the drop down menu you need. And there on the left, two tiny buttons, one clicked on bF01. 

With shaking fingers, you move your cursor to hover over the tiny bF10, anticipating. You click. It takes a moment for the numbers to change, but they do. The nominal values turn into something you can actually work with. 

Something akin to a tut leaves you, hidden in the breath of another sob. It’s stupid, unreasonable, absurd. Your fingers hover over your phone, shaking as tears drop onto the screen, faster than before. 

Do you not miss me?

Do you not want me around?

Talk to me

I miss you

Please talk to me

“I couldn’t—can’t—stand listening to someone spew nonsense when I know it’s not true.”

Mingyu is a product of his personality. You can only imagine he’s helped because he saw you struggling in class, heard from someone else, or perhaps, he just knew the very thing you’d make blunders out of. 

The reasons come to you, that Mingyu is a product of his personality. Then why does it hurt? Why does it feel like the knife’s twisted a full 360, that despite the way you accused him of the thing that would strip him of everything he’s bruised himself for, he helps you. The very thing that caused this rift in the first place. 

There’s a reason for that, and it is again, that Mingyu is a product of his personality. 

It’s Saturday. 

Perhaps you relied on your olfactory senses to remain calm, because you always knew you could count on a coffee shop to forever and always smell the same. 

The universe seems to want to ruin that for you too. 

“Latte, please,” you voice. “Iced.”

“We have a one plus one for the week! Would you like to receive another latte?” The lady taking your order looks no older than 17, a pep in her voice. 

“Um, no thank you. Just one, please.”

She looks taken aback, a reasonable reaction to anyone turning down a free drink. But you couldn’t bring yourself to walk home with two cups in hand. 

You’re plucking a napkin from the pickup counter when you hear his name. 

“...that he manipulated her grade because they were hooking up.” 

“He has time to hook up?”

“I remember hearing about that! She barged in during office hours and asked why he fixed her grade or something.” 

“A ninety two? In that class? Oh, they were definitely fooling around with each other.”

“Whatever, at least we know he’ll entertain you if he likes you enough. I’m just glad those two are over so I can swoop in.”

There’s an eruption of giggles. You press your head down further. 

“Unless he flirts in variables.”

“All is forgiven when you’re born with a face like that.” 

Another explosion of giddy laughter, through which your drink is slid across the counter towards you, like it was waiting for you to hear the damning evidence before you could leave. You grab it anyway, grip tighter than usual. 

Turning around, your eyes search, finding a group of people that sit in smiles and in various states of trust-falls. 

There she is, the girl you sat with on the first day you attended office hours, the one with the glitter gel pen doodles on her notes and her blatant fawns over the TA you slipped under just as easily. 

She locks eyes with you and her face falls, eyes widening the slightest bit in recognition. 

Pressing your lips into a smile, you hope it doesn’t look as menacing as you feel. You don’t wait for a response before you walk out the large glass doors.

It’s Sunday.

It seems every sip of water you’ve taken during the week has been used up in all the tears you’ve seemed to be shedding. By the bucketload.

Alas, even blurry and puffy eyed, you pour over statistical formulas anyway, running on no energy and all antagonism. It’s another tutorial sheet left incomplete, a single question taking a pour that lasts in at least an hour of struggle. 

Reading the same question for the nth time, your palms press into your temples as you stare lasers into the paper, like the revelation would come to you if you stared it down hard enough. It doesn’t make sense, the commands you’ve toggled on and off identical to the instructions on the page. 

Hence the question begs why the data was coming out like someone pressed the ultimate on a number generator. 

With a heat of unreasonable embarrassment, you find yourself checking your selection in one of the drop down menus, switching to bF01 and back just to see the difference. It does nothing to help, and you can’t help but feel a little relieved it wasn’t that particular snag. 

The library is as silent as it could possibly be on a Sunday morning, near empty as you occupy the mostly vacant seats. The librarian is having her own day off, as you could swear she’s playing computer games behind the counter instead of actual work. 

The only noise in the room is your own breathing, and that seems to be enough to mess with your concentration. You’re going cross eyed staring at the page for so long, the words doubling and  disappearing before going back to normal. 

Bayesian inference…z scores…null hypothesis…

Wait. 

It’s like you can see it in front of your eyes right now, the scribble of someone else’s dark blue on your notes.

no null hypothesis in bayesian approach

Bayesian approaches don’t use null hypotheses. And z scores are in…

“Oh my god, this is a t test,” you whisper to yourself in disbelief. Immediately, you’re scrambling to shake your laptop out of its sleep, switching over to a t test to redo everything, following the instructions on the same data set. 

And there it was…a clear 0.067 under the p value. 

In a moment of questioning, you laugh out a breathy sound, the absurdity of it all becoming too real. T tests were the first thing you learned, the foundation to all your statistical knowledge. Coming so far, and it took you days to realise the instructions under a Bayesian approach were for a different realm entirely. 

It was stupid of you. But in this difficult aftermath you can’t help but feel victorious. Laughing to yourself quietly in this empty library. 

When the initial adrenaline fades and you’ve double, triple checked to ensure you were right, you can only stare at the tiny mail button in your shortcuts on the screen. It was clearly an error, one that was given out to nearly a hundred students. 

The first step was clicking, your inbox coming to life as you drift towards the big blue button with the readily available NEW MAIL. So you click. 

There’s an attached file in the email you draft. 

The tutorial paper has titled t test instructions as a Bayesian approach. Just wanted to point it out and ask if I could receive a corrected version. 

Regards, YN

It’s almost like you’re trying to remember how it feels like when you type an experimental m in the To bar. His name pops up immediately, email address typed out in full, full name clear on top as a regular contact. 

You don’t need a suggestion to remember, his email came easier to you than your own. 

But you don’t email him, backspacing till it’s empty once again. 

Dr. Cho’s email sits in that place instead, a first for you. 

SEND.

You don’t expect him to reply on a Sunday, in fact, you aren’t sure if he’s going to respond at all. You’ve already shut your laptop, half out of your seat in an attempt to pack up. You’re forced to consider. 

Would it be terrible to go back and cc him as well? 

A spiteful part of you might find joy in correcting him for a change. The rational part of you wants to actually finish the tutorial before tomorrow’s class when you’d have to tackle another beast for the rest of the week. 

Sitting back down, you move without thinking. Your mind is still cooking up possibilities as you swing your screen open once again, still weighing as you click back into your inbox. 

There’s a new email in your sent box after you’re done, a copy of the one you sent your professor, the same attachment and the same question; word for word. The only difference, a more familiar name in the address bar. 

Before you can chicken out, you slam your laptop shut for the actual last time, shoving everything into your bag before the speeding thoughts can infiltrate your mind's barrier. You’re out the door before you know it, ready to be done with this. 

You’re afraid if you put a hand to your stomach it’d be met with kicks and punches, especially with the way you feel the aggressive cartwheels slashing away at your insides. The butterflies are making it to the end of your food pipe, and you briefly wonder if you need to break into a sprint to make it to a safe throwing up zone. Your entire being jolts as you feel a buzz in your hands, a loud click that signifies a new email in your inbox. 

Right there, in the middle of the sidewalk, you stop. 

The grip you have on your phone is unyielding, your fingers beginning to hurt from the pressure. There’s no way to tell if you’re shaking or not, but you bring your phone to your face anyway. The screen flips on, a lone notification on the screen. 

RE: Tutorial Error from Kim Mingyu

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since you sent that email, the library still in sight from where you stand. At the same time, it’s almost funny you expected any different from him. 

The kicks and punches in your stomach halt, the cartwheels have calmed, the butterflies have fallen asleep. The grip on your phone has loosened, and it’s like every nerve in your body went from on fire to serenity in a whiplash inducing shift. 

Clicking on the notification, the email opens. 

Noted. I have another tutorial sheet for you if you want it. I’ll be in the room where office hours are held for the rest of the morning.

Kim Mingyu, T.A.

There was no way he didn’t have a softcopy he could send you in less than a minute, and you’re sure he knew you’d realise that too. You should scoff, be upset, roll your eyes. 

But instead, you find your feet making a 180, turning around to go right back to where you came from. You walk, eyes still half trained on the email, reading and rereading as you walk back onto campus, towards the building you’d once considered a second home. 

You walk, and walk and walk, in through the doors, up the stairs and then another set of them, you take a left and look up. The hallway is empty, the door on the right coming into view as you slow your steps significantly. 

Closer and closer, you realise the light surrounding it is brighter than usual. The door is open, and you can see the empty rows of tables and chairs, set neatly against one another. It’s strange, you’ve never seen it wide open before. 

Walking even closer, you can see the beginnings of the professor’s desk come into view, and it only takes you one more step forward. 

Standing in the doorway now, you find yourself in the direct path of the sun that pours in through the open windows. It’s warm, but just enough to combat the cooling weather. 

The desk up front is occupied, as it always is. 

Mingyu is only in a t-shirt and trousers, glasses perched on his nose as he scrawls away on the paper in front of him. His laptop is turned on, screen facing the door where you stand, his inbox open and available even on the weekend. 

It wasn’t that you were waiting for him to notice, but you found yourself inadvertently taking your time looking at him. Every other situation, you’d done your absolute best to avoid your eyes grazing over him at all costs, hardly drifting over his form before flitting away. You never did it on purpose, but it was more like you were unconsciously protecting yourself.

 Like looking at him would only make the ache in your heart worse.

If that was the case, you would’ve been right. There’s a tug in your chest, and in that moment, it all comes flooding in like a gate destroyed. 

Mingyu looks up and sees you in the doorway, standing immobile. He sets his pen down, taking his glasses off. There’s the smallest hint of a smile on his face as he greets you, “‘Morning.”

You take it as your cue to move forward, stepping foot into the patch of sun slowly. “‘Morning.”

You reach the desk, standing in front of him, the only thing blocking you being the littered table with files, papers and stationary; the trench between you both. 

It’s so silent it tears at your insides, gripping the strap of your bag to have something to do. 

“I, uh, double checked when I saw the email. You were right, nobody noticed in class either.” There’s an airiness in his voice, like he might be struggling just as much as you are right now. 

He clears his throat when you don’t respond, looking back down at his workspace like he was looking for something. He finds a paper from some stack, handing it over to you. 

“Thanks,” you hoarse. It’s the same tutorial you had, except the instructions had been crossed out, replaced by a list of handwritten instructions instead, detailed in their annotation. You recognise it, because of course you’d recognise his handwriting. 

“I didn’t have time to print one out right now. I’ll probably send a corrected copy to everyone tonight,” he explains. 

“That’s alright.” You look up, lips pressed together, eyebrows forced into a regular position on your face. Nodding, you thank him once again. “Thanks again. I’ll…get going.” 

Every fibre in your body screams at you to turn back around, hollering profanities at your inability to deal with this. You’re already halfway to the door though, and your pride’s already deemed it too late. 

Please stop me, please stop me, please stop me, please just say something and stop me—

There it is. Your name, from his mouth, in his beautiful voice. 

Turning back around is the easiest thing you’ve ever done. 

Mingyu has stood up from his seat, out from behind the desk. He looks like he wasn’t expecting you to turn back. “Can we talk?” 

And then he’s pulling out the chair he was sitting on, presenting it like a piece offering. If you heard correctly, you could’ve sworn you heard his voice break the slightest bit when he pressed, “Please?”

So there you were, in a position all too familiar as you sit across from the man that’s haunted you for the past weeks, trying to keep your chest from falling in. 

“I guess I should start with an apology,” he’s fidgeting with his own fingers. “I don’t need to give you excuses about stress or exhaustion because…”

He closes his eyes, trying to find the words. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you. You were only trying to help and I was too preoccupied with myself to notice. I’m sorry I spoke to you like that when you didn’t deserve it.” 

For about the millionth time, you realise you’re tearing up again. He continues. “And then…right before the midterm too. You were right, I did feel horrible. But I swear that grade was all you, I didn’t touch those numbers.”

He really didn’t, because the papers he had thrust into your hands on that fateful day in this very room proved that you earned that mark. You wince regardless.

“I thought I could apologise before the exam started but I couldn’t find you, and then you were gone right after. I didn’t text or call because I was sure I’d fucked it all up.” 

“I’m sorry too. For barging in in front of everyone and basically accusing you. I wasn’t thinking straight.” You look up from your lap, wet lashes and all. “I really hope you didn’t get into any trouble.” 

“I–no, I didn’t.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“I promise I didn’t.” He locked eyes with you when he said that, hoping you’d believe him. You nod slowly. 

“It wasn’t even that bad, what you said,” you sniffled. 

He scoffs at that, “I’d beg to differ.”

“I would’ve gotten over it,” you continue, bracing yourself to admit to something you’ve had trouble admitting to yourself. “I should’ve gotten over it. I don’t know why it hurt so much, why watching you walk out felt so horrible. But I haven’t been acting like normal ever since, and I’m sorry for stretching this whole fiasco out into something that didn’t need to turn into…this!”

“You were hurt because I hurt you.”

“People have said worse things to me. And you were practically a zombie, I should’ve just left it for another time. It was a little bit my fault too. But…yeah.”

There’s a silence as you try to remind yourself to breathe. You speak up again. “I just want us to go back to normal. I’ve missed you. Alot.”

“Me too. The go back to normal bit. And the…missed you bit.”

Mingyu’s half smiling when you look up, biting your lip hard as you try to keep a smile of your own at bay. “I’d thought if I gave up and admitted I was struggling that day, that’d be admitting defeat. That you’d think I…couldn’t do it.” 

Why on earth do you care so much? It rings in your ears. 

You sound light when you say it though, knowing now it wasn’t what he meant.“Since when are we on caring terms?” 

Mingyu cringes. "We are. I am, at least, if you aren't anymore, which is fine. I care about you. A lot."

It’s hard to not let out a laugh. He looks half constipated as he tries to navigate his words. 

“Oh well I’d hope you’d care, since you’re my TA and all.”

“Not in a TA way.”

“Tutor way.”

“Um.”

“Friend way? A human way?” 

“No.”

You both know you’re being obtuse on purpose, and you aren’t sure why. Maybe you just like to watch him squirm. 

“You know what?” he rasps. 

“What?”

Your answer comes in the form of Mingyu lurching to grab the legs of your chair, pulling the wheels to crash into him where he sits. You’re not expecting it, the clashing legs causing you to swerve forward, hands on Mingyu’s lap. 

And then his hand is on the back of your neck, and his lips placed on your own. 

You’re stiff as a board, brain computing the fact that Mingyu is kissing you in a classroom. 

It’s short, hardly a few moments before he pulls away. “Does that clear things up?”

There’s nothing you can do but blink at him, the reality of it all settles in. “Hm.”

He laughs at your half dazed state. It’s a purely instinctual part of you that speaks after this. “Maybe one more time. To make sure.”

Mingyu doesn’t even wait to laugh again as he wastes no time, putting his mouth on yours properly this time. There’s more of a drive in you this time, moving your mouth against his and he keeps your head close. 

The ecstasy is slow but sure to build in your stomach. Mingyu is kissing you. Mingyu is sitting with you and kissing you so good you’re already half faint. 

His mouth tastes like coffee and remnants of berry, a combination you can’t believe you could enjoy this much. Licking into his mouth, you let your tongue drag over his, like the tactile would convince you this wasn’t some too vivid fever dream. 

He pulls away for a moment, but hardly so as his lips remain pressed onto yours. 

“For the record,” he pants. “I love that you care. And I hope you’ll keep caring. Because I don’t think I can handle it if you walk away after this.”

Mouth back on his own, you decide there’s only one way to convince him you weren’t going anywhere without dragging him with you. 

MINGYU'S APARTMENT IS CLEANER than you expected. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, perhaps more mad scientist than anything else. But the most you find is a mug and plate in the sink, and a moderately crowded study desk, which is to be expected. 

Mingyu decided to abandon his work for the day to spend it with you, to which you contest that it was Sunday anyway. His response is making you change into something comfortable of his so you could laze on his couch. 

Like you would run away if he didn’t, Mingyu keeps his arms around you in a tight hold, fingers curling around your shoulders as you lay on top of him. Your head rests directly over his heart, his cheek and lips taking turns to occupy the top of your head.  

You fill him in on everything, and realise the most eventful weeks you’ve spent were actually quite uneventful in hindsight. He feels up your cheek and forehead when you tell him you got sick at one point, to which you have to reassure him it was either something going around or stress that you subjected on yourself. 

“I went to a frat party,” Mingyu mumbles into your forehead. “For Halloween.”

The information has you shifting to look up at him in bewilderment, “You went to a frat party?”

He snorts, “Dressed up for it too.”

“Oh my god,” you voice in mild horror. “Do I wanna know?” 

“Wonwoo and I matched,” he hums as he pulls out his phone, scrolling his gallery to look for pictures. “I was Mario, he was Luigi.”

“How adorable.”

He only gives you a look and shoves the phone in your face. By some grace of god they aren’t wearing moustaches, but the distinct red and green outfits are enough to give you enough recognition. 

“Thing 1 and Thing 2 were also possible contenders,” he informs. 

“That might’ve been a little better.”

“What’s wrong with Mario?” he asks sharply.

“Nothing. But I do hope you weren’t sporting an Italian accent throughout that.” 

“I was,” he pushes. “A horrible one too.”

You give him the satisfaction of an eye roll. 

“You could’ve gone as Peach. We could’ve matched.” 

“I don’t know if I’d wanna wear any available Peach costumes during Halloween time.” You crinkle your nose as you think of all the racy costumes that unearth every October. 

“Maybe in private,” he says with an insufferable smile on his face. 

Placing your hands flat on his chest, you rest your chin and look up at him. “I’m not sure I want to interrupt whatever you two have going on.” 

“Who?”

“You and Wonwoo, you’re practically married.”

Mingyu laughs out loud, and you can feel the rumble in his chest against your hands, his body moving against your own that’s stuck to him. “Not with whatever he has going on with his girl.”

“Oh right,” you frown in remembrance. “What happened to not understanding how he does it?” 

“Hm?”

“He’s a TA too. Probably just as busy as you. You said you didn’t know how he could juggle a relationship and his job at the same time.”

His eyes spark in remembrance, pausing for a moment. “I may owe him an apology.”

“Do you?”

Mingyu frowns, “Actually no I don’t. I don’t think he and his lady are doing too well right now. He’s been insufferable lately.”

“Is it because of the TA-ing?”

“I never know with those two,” he sighs.

There’s silence once again, in the midst of which Mingyu leans over to kiss you a few times, soft and lingering. Like he’s trying to familiarise himself with the shape of your mouth, the tactile feeling of kissing you. 

“Do you…know about us?” There’s hesitancy in the way you ask. But you can’t help but ask anyway.

Mingyu thinks for a moment, and it has your heart beating out of your chest. “I know that I want us to be concrete. That I wanna work around whatever life throws at us. You can decide what to call it, but I know I’m in it for the long run.”

“I’m glad you’re smarter than your husband,” you smile.

He only rolls his eyes, “He’s only good at one kind of chemistry.” 

“D’you think they’ll be okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he assures. “They’re just going through a…rough patch.”

“Like we did?”

“If you’re asking me, I’d say they’re being a little more stupid about it.”

The snort that leaves you is unanimous with his own. He continues, “They’ll be okay though.”

“I hope so. I’d like to go on double dates with my boyfriend’s husband’s girlfriend.” You start giggling in the middle of your sentence, too ridiculous even for you to voice. 

“This is getting weird,” Mingyu breathes. 

You only hum against his mouth, “Do I have to take your husband's blessing before we can move forward?”

“For fuck’s sake.” 

You’re both laughing again, a sound that comes from your stomachs, true and uncontrollable. For a moment, you can’t help but be conscious of how light you feel, how happy you feel with his scent infiltrating your nostrils, his presence known where his fingertips touch you. 

“I did the sticky note thing again too,” Mingyu says into the silence, and there’s nothing you can do to stop the fit of giggles that erupt all over again. 

“Said something worse this time,” he continues as you laugh into his chest. “Accept that you’ll die alone or some other shit like that.” 

There’s comfort in this moment. In your giggles and in your tears, in his voice and in his affection. His lips are another sanctuary you’ve found, and perhaps even another way to make your dreaded latch click. 

Nose nuzzled in his cheek, the feeling of his skin so soft against yours, fingers at his chin where a slight stubble grows, you relax in ways you cannot comprehend. 

MINGYU'S LIPS BECOME A feeling you’ve grown dangerously accustomed to. 

It isn’t that he has them on you too much, regardless of what an outsider might suggest; to you they simply aren’t on you enough. 

The following Monday went as usual, for you anyway. You weren’t avoiding Mingyu this time, and you were grateful for it. It was two hours of following him with your eyes as he darted around the room. You could hardly constitute it as not paying attention when Dr. Cho was preoccupied with explaining every reason he hates JASP over SPSS, but also ultimately, hates them both. 

You don’t even notice his loud outfit (overalls and a neon green sweater underneath), happy to watch Mingyu flit about and whisper incoherent explanations to students. 

The tutorial paper is barely looked at by you, because you know your boyfriend will be happy to help you out later at his place. 

You’re barely through the door that night when he gets a hold of you, tight grip across your waist as you’re catapulted into his arms, door slammed shut behind you. 

Bag still on your shoulders and your shoes still on, Mingyu’s slammed his mouth onto yours before you can take a proper breath. You stumble, squealing through the kiss as you realise you aren’t escaping the iron grip he’s got on your face. 

Somehow between it all, you manage to slip your bag off to let it drop to the floor of his doorway, shoes kicked off one after the other as he leads you inside, littering the way. 

“You aren’t actually paying attention in class anyway,” he breathes against your mouth before kissing you again. “So why don’t you sit in the back where you don’t distract me.”

“Who says I’m not paying attention.” You open your as your back lands on the couch, looking at him as he looms overhead. 

“You’re paying attention to me.”

“It was in my job description when I signed up for the girlfriend position.”

He’s all over you now, hands at your sides, mouth underneath your earlobes as he husks, “Was letting me take you in front of the entire class also a clause? Because if this goes on I might have to take up on that.”

If you didn’t know any better you would’ve assumed he’d been possessed, everything about his behaviour screaming the opposite of the well behaved, restrained man you’ve been accustomed to. The fact that he’s whispering directly into your ears isn’t helping either, a conspicuous shiver dragging across your spine. 

It lands with precision, right at your core. You’re too hot to tell, but there isn’t a doubt you’ve begun to pool. 

There’s a ding in the background. 

He’s suckling underneath your ear, his hands roaming in ways that would smear your reputation altogether. 

Another ding. 

He’s reached your mouth once again, groping your right breast lightly. Like he’s testing the waters.

Ding. 

Mingyu makes a noise of annoyance, the other hand trailing underneath your shirt. 

His ringtone blares throughout the room, whoever the caller was having reached wit’s end. 

“Gyu…” you whisper. 

“Ignore it,” he growls. The ringing has stopped. 

He ducks underneath to kiss at your stomach, lifting your shirt oh so slowly. He goes higher, and higher and higher, leaving a trail of kisses at the skin, taking deep breaths as he drags his mouth over your torso. 

His phone begins to ring again. 

Your head is spinning, your senses overcome. If you weren’t sure before, the air of wetness between your legs is definitely obvious now. 

He brings a hand to your centre, pushing inwards at your jean clad core. You exhale sharply yet shakily. 

The ringing stops. 

Mingyu makes a gumbled sound that you can’t quite make out, too preoccupied with the way your shirt is now up past your bra, at which Mingyu has taken to leaving open mouthed kisses to your cleavage. 

There’s a ding. 

“Mingyu, I really think—”

His phone begins to ring again. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he curses, rearing his head like an interrupted animal, wet mouthed and bleary eyed. He looks at his buzzing phone on the floor in an accusatory glare, like he wants to chuck it out the window and go right back to burrowing into your chest. 

“You should answer.” 

He looks irritated as he takes his phone in his hands, and you find a flash of Dr. Cho’s name on the screen. “It’s eleven O’clock.” 

“It might be important.”

“The last time he did this he asked where his peacock feather pen was,” he grunts as he silences his phone. 

You laugh, running a soothing hand through Mingyu’s hair, a tiny attempt to calm him down. Pulling your shirt down, you attempt to sit up. 

Mingyu makes a noise of denial, attempting to stick his face into your now clothed chest, knocking you back down, “Nooooo, I’m gonna ignore him.”

“He’s not going to leave you alone,” you sing quietly, running your nails across his scalp lightly, holding his head to your chest. You place your cheek on his head, playing with his ear. 

As if to prove your point, Mingyu’s phone begins to ring again, and he groans at the prospect. 

“Go on.”

He swipes to answer it. A loud sigh and then a tired, “Hello?”

His volume is bumped up enough for you to make out what’s being said on the other line. “Where have you been?”

“It’s nearly eleven, sir. I was in bed.”

“My flash drive won’t open up on my computer.”

You have to stifle a snort. 

“Is it…plugged in?”

“Of course it is, I’m not an idiot.”

“Is it showing up on your files?”

“Disk…is not…formatted.”

“Erm, it might be corrupted.”

“How did that happen?”

“Did you download something off the internet onto it?”

“Hardly matters, I need the attendance sheet on it!”

Your fingers are massaging Mingyu’s temples as you feel him tense on top of you. 

“Your attendance sheet is on the teacher’s portal,” Mingyu grits before adding, “sir.”

“...I have other things on there too.”

Mingyu exhales ever so quietly and you tighten your hold on him a smidge. “This sounds like something tech support could help with.”

“Why can’t you help?” he asks sharply. 

“I…I don’t know how, sir.”

There’s a noise of indignation from the other end, and you can’t help but keep from laughing. 

Mingyu sighs into the phone, this time doing nothing to hide it. “I’ll take it to tech support for you tomorrow. And I’ll send you a direct link for the attendance sheet for Monday and Tuesday’s classes.”

The line beeps shut. Mingyu brings the phone for you both to see the professor’s hung up as soon as the words left Mingyu’s mouth. 

“Wow,” you whisper into the silence, the weight of Mingyu’s head heavier on your chest. “Not even a thank you.”

“Absent father behaviour,” Mingyu grumbles as he moves his face to burrow into your shirt. 

It’s a bad joke, but you laugh anyway. 

“Will I be an asshole if I say I’m not in the mood anymore?” he murmurs. 

“Absolutely not. Everything sucked right back in the minute I heard his voice on the line.”

“Gross,” he comments, but he’s laughing too. 

“Should we call it a night?” he asks, rearing his head. 

Nodding, you rise with him. By the time you’ve reached the bedroom, you’ve already begun taking off your accessories, fiddling with your bracelet as you voice. 

“I need a shower.”

Mingyu throws you a towel and a t-shirt, which you catch and move towards the bathroom. Halfway through the door, you sneak a look at him fiddling with his belt. 

“Do you wanna come in too?” 

Mingyu looks at you peering through the door frame. You’ve never seen anyone leap across the room as quickly as in that moment. 

THE FOLLOWING DAYS WERE just as eventful as that phone call, Mingyu running around as the midterm low passed and the line creeped up towards finals season. 

Perhaps it was better that you stopped attending office hours, because the room seems to become increasingly packed as the days progressed. 

You only ever saw Mingyu in the wee hours of the night at his place, where he begged you to camp out till the end of the semester so he “doesn’t move to insanity”. It might even be better for you, going about your day as usual, without the usual added distraction of a partner.

Coming home to him was easier, where he could clear up your doubts while in ratty pyjamas and starfished across the bed, where you could find solace in Mingyu’s chest without prying eyes when the information became like filling an already stuffed junk drawer. 

It was a Friday night, you’re alone at Mingyu’s place sitting cross legged on the floor. The table in front of you is pouring over the final question of this week’s tutorial paper, everything seemingly whizzing right past the top of your head. 

Despite that, as Mingyu stumbles inside past eleven, you know you shouldn’t ask him for a thing. 

Tired was a look on Mingyu you’d gotten quite used to, so you’ve learned to not comment and simply let him fall into the couch cushions with all his weight. 

His face is parallel to yours as he closes his eyes with a light groan in greeting. Moving forward, you kiss the flutter of his eyelids softly, down to the apple of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth. 

Your fingers run through his tangled and distressed hair as he mumbles against your mouth. “Did you finish the tutorial paper?”

You huff in mild annoyance, that despite his state he still thinks about work. “Not yet. One last question and I’m done.”

He hums and waits a moment before reopening his eyes. With a loud groan he’s pushing himself off the couch, sliding off of it to sit with you on the uncomfortable floor. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

“I can figure it out myself, Gyu.”

“You would’ve been done by now if you could,” he answers. It’s annoying that he says it but he’s also right. 

Mingyu holds the paper a mere inch from his eyes, the sight almost comical if he also didn’t look an inch from passing out. 

He mumbles the question as he reads, “It’s nothing, just worded weird. Toggle this off and move this to mixed factors and you’re done.”

The toggles are done for you, and Mingyu takes the liberty crossing he question off with a pen he finds on the table. 

“Did you get everything else?” he asks in earnest. 

“Hm? I think so.” 

“Good.” And then he’s throwing his head back to rest it on the couch cushions behind him, breathing slowly. 

He’s in a navy sweater, collar of his undershirt peeking through the top. Your gaze leads up further, to the exposed area of his throat—clean, tan and naked. You realise this might not be a good time, but it’s only natural your mind cooks up other ways to translate your helplessness as you watch your boyfriend push himself to the brink. Release is never a bad idea. 

Besides, it’s a Friday night. No reason to not. 

“Gyu,” you shuffle closer. 

Lolling his head to look over at you, he answers in a small voice, “Yeah?” 

You put on the guiltiest face you can muster, complete with darting eyes and fidgeting fingers. “D’you think…d’you think you can go over post hoc tests again?”

“Post hoc?” He furrowed his eyebrows. You bite the inside of your cheek, having blurted the first plausible model you could think of to ask him. It’s an older bit of the syllabus, something you should already be well versed in. 

Not that you care what he thinks right now, he’d figure out why you were asking anyway. 

“Post hoc, um,” he rubs a hand over his face as if to jog his memory. 

Shifting forward, you plaster you front onto his side. He thinks nothing of it. 

“Analysis tool after you’ve already run the data,” he begins. 

Placing your chin on his shoulder, you let your nose nuzzle against his cheek. Trailing up, your lips find the shell of his ear. 

“Results have to be…they have to be…” He falters when your hand reaches his front, running across the expanse of his clothes stomach, nails digging ever so slightly as you reach his abdomen. You continue to place open mouthed kisses at the space of neck you can reach. 

“Hm? Has to be what?”

“Statistically significant,” he breathes when your palms reach the tops of his thighs. “To run a post hoc test.”

His trousers are less barrier inducing than regular jeans, something you’re both grateful for as you begin to palm his clothed bulge. “Results of what, baby?”

“For the love of—”

“Go on,” you whisper in his ear. “Please.”

One flick and his trousers are unbutton, pulling them aside as the zipper pulls open. You're pushing down his boxers when he answers you. “ANOVA.” 

“What’s that again?”

“You little shit.”

You move your mouth forward to kiss him.

“Analysis of variance.” 

You hum against the column of his throat at that, his half hard member in your hands. Light touches, that’s all they are, running the pads of your fingers across the pulsing length, coaxing him into full length. 

“What’s it for though? We already got our results.” Bending forward, you stick your tongue to kitten lick at his tip. Mingyu hisses, hips shifting. Your tongue swirls around the tip, pushing into the skin on the head where he’s most sensitive. 

“Ugh, fuck, for um,” he falters as you begin to suck at his head, tongue running over each hollow of your cheeks. 

“For…for…” His chest is moving up and down in quick breathes, every sound from his mouth coming from a deep rumble in his stomach. 

Letting go of his cock, you continue to pump him with your hand as you gaze up at him from your position. “For? Keep talking, baby.”

“For…To identify groups,” he grunts out. He lets out a louder moan when you place your mouth back on him, going past his tip and taking as much as you can of him into your mouth. “Identify…the differences, shit, hmph.”

He takes a loud breath before speeding through it again, “Identify which groups actually differ, oh my god.”

The bit of him that you can’t fit on your mouth is being pumped by your hands, fingers pushing into him like you were trying to indent them on the base of his cock. A glance upwards and you find his head thrown back, hands coming to tangle in your hair. His thumb caresses the side of your cheek.

“How many groups?” you ask, before diving back in. 

“Three,” he chokes out. “Three or more, oh I’m gonna cum, fuck don’t stop, holy shit.”

Both of his hands are at your head, guiding you as you suck him harder, faster, more tongue digging into his slit. You hum against his dick on purpose, making sure it’s coarse enough to get the reaction you want. 

You succeed, because immediately after you hear Mingyu rip out the loudest moan you’ve ever heard, his grip on your strands harder than ever. He cums into your mouth, hips stuttering as you place your entire weight on him to keep him in place. 

You let some of it dribble out your mouth and back over his softening dick like a hot coating, sucking him through shooting spurts of cum that land on your tongue. 

When you emerge from underneath, Mingyu looks like he got the soul sucked out of him; eyes closed, stuttered breaths raking through his entire body, a light sheen of the beginnings of sweat that glisten in the low light of the room. 

Reaching for the tissue box and water bottle on the table, you soak the napkins and bring them to clean him up. He whines when the cold tissues touch him where he’s most sensitive right now, you want to kiss him but account for the cum that is actively stuck to the walls of your mouth. 

You leave for a few minutes, much to Mingyu’s hoarse protests. He’s almost on all fours, hands on the floors as you promise to be back. By the time you’ve hauled his tired ass into bed, you’re just as ready to knock out as the half asleep man beside you. 

Mingyu’s face is plastered into your neck, arms and legs thrown over your form as he hugs you close to him. 

“I might love you,” he says into the darkness. A secret, just for you and the walls to hear. 

You hide the way your heart absolutely leaps, conceal the way your hands tighten around his form into an affectionate caress, hold your breath to prevent the inevitable hitch. 

I might love you too. 

You hide that as well. For now. 

Smiling into the skin of his temples, you sigh.

“Feel free.”

[Mingyu]: class ended early 

[Mingyu]: be there in 5 

[You]: ???

[You]: wdym ended early

[You]: kim did u end class early to come home

Your response comes in the form of the front door lock jiggling loudly. You’d stayed the night at his place, knowing you didn’t have anything to do but study by yourself. Sickly as you were, you doubt you could sit through two hours of even more statistics. 

He’d left you in bed with a kiss, needing to be extra early since Dr. Cho decided to dump the last crucial few weeks leading up to finals season entirely on his TA. As much as there was on Mingyu’s already overflowing plate now, you couldn’t deny the elated feeling of your attendance being taken care of regardless of whether you show up to class or not. 

A very real violation, but no one truly notes one skipped student in the midst of hundreds. Besides, the bag under Mingyu’s pretty eyes might be enough for anyone to have mercy and let the supposed mistake slide.

As Mingyu walks into the room, shoes flying and back dumped on the floor, he finds you still half clothed with leftover sleep in your eyes, standing in the middle of the living space like you were lost. 

He drops his things to come and drown you in his arms, loud kisses all over your face as you talk. “You’re getting too comfortable with this job.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t possibly expect me to teach a bunch of half asleep idiots when my woman is all alone at home, sickly and cold without me.”

You grumble wordlessly as you feel him check your temperature with the back of his hand. “How’s the congestion?”

“Bad,” you respond nasally. “I can’t find my Afrin.”

“It’s on the bedside table, baby.”

“No, it’s not.”

Still wrapped in his hold, Mingyu begins to take steps forward that lead towards the bed, pushing you to walk backwards.

“I’m not awake enough to navigate,” you sniff.

“I’ve got you,” he lowtones, pushing backwards slowly. 

The back of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back into the unmade sheets. You crawl back under the covers as Mingyu navigates between used tissues, water bottles and pills on the bedside table. But no sign of your nasal spray. 

You have to breathe through your mouth and you hate it, but you send a remark his way anyway. “Told you.”

Mingyu bends down and emerges with a familiar red capped bottle. He stares at you while you stare at it, choosing to simply snatch it from his presenting hands and be done with it. 

“Good thing I came back early, hm?” 

“Shut up.”

He leaps over your form to claim the spot in bed right next to you, still fully clothed as he burrows under the covers next to you.

There’s nothing flattering about the way you stick the nozzle up your nostrils and sniff hard, but the gleam in your boyfriend’s eyes might as well suggest you were trying to get him to look at you like that. 

“Are you gonna keep doing this till finals?” you ask throatily, shifting under the covers. 

“Teaching during class time is just extended office hours, I’m gonna go insane if I keep going like this. Probably just today. Or…once more if I feel it.”

“Didn’t you say you were gonna extend office hours to Fridays too?” 

Mingyu moulded himself against you, giving warmth to your shivering body even under thick blankets. 

It seems throughout the course of your relationship, your time with Mingyu is either spent laying down or in the process of doing so. Not that you mind, you’ve found that remaining horizontal was what worked best for someone like Mingyu who seemed to want to fuse with your very being whenever you were together.

“Ugh, not this week. Do not have the patience.”

“I’m proud of you,” you say, eyes closed, already on the highway to dreamland. 

“Thank you, I do think I’ve been very brave.” Even while slipping into dreamland, you find the good sense to find his nipple through his sweater and give it a hard pinch. He jerks away in a yelp, clutching his chest. 

“What’s that for?!”

You ignore him and simply run your hand over the area you just attacked. “You’ve gotten better at knowing when to slow down. I’m proud of you.”

You’re too far gone to make out what he answers you with, but with the hot breath against your already warm forehead, you decide it's more than enough for you. 

MINGYU DOES IT FOR the fourth time, but this time round he’s smart enough to not tell you. 

It’s the Friday before finals week officially begins, and you remain in your own place for once to crack down on the last bits of syllabus you want to go over, away from your extremely distracting boyfriend. 

There’s a text when you check your phone after a couple hours of hyperfocus, and you narrow your eyes at the notification. 

It’s Wonwoo’s (actual) girlfriend, and she’s sent you nothing but a picture of both of your men on Wonwoo’s living room floor, thoroughly occupied with the floored expanse of sheets, pillows and cushions. 

It’s a pillow fort.

Your boyfriend is building a pillow fort in his not-husband’s living room mere days before the final exam for the most dreaded course of the semester. All while he’s actively meant to be available for office hours.

You want to laugh. The man that stayed up multiple nights to answer stupid questions in emails, is now less than concerned about the pandemonium that is probably ensuing in the department building. It isn’t that you’re upset, because this was what you wanted from him. To learn to take a break when it was needed. But you would also prefer he’d time them a little better. 

Inevitably, you text him, but not before sending an encouraging text to your girlfriend-in-law for putting up with the both of them all by herself. 

[You]: where are you

[Mingyu]: where im meant to be?

[You]: office hours?

[Mingyu]: mhm

[You]: are u and ur husband conducting them under a pillow fort in his house

You imagine him sending Wonwoo’s girlfriend a betrayed look. Perhaps even throw a frilled throw pillow in her unassuming direction. 

[Mingyu]: DONT KILL ME

You let him suffer in your silence, clicking your phone off and leaving it somewhere you won’t be tempted to look. 

Besides, it wasn’t long before there was an incessant banging at your door that you ended up needing to get up to open. He looks so timid, the face of an innocent perpetrator that waltzes into your space. 

“I’m sorry,” he begins, following you to your desk like a lost duckling. 

“Whatever for?”

“For lying.” 

You snort as you sift through tutorial sheets, “Might wanna take that up to the poor hopeless student that thought you were their last hope.”

Mingyu’s head sinks to your shoulder where you sit at your desk. “God.”

“Him too.”

In another few moments, his arms have come around to cage you into your desk where you’re sat, hands placed on the table as he towers over the top of your head, mouth to crown. 

“Rumour has it,” he starts. 

You make a face. “Now you’ve joined in on gossip? Maybe I have steered you wrong.”

He ignores you valiantly as his mouth drops lower, down to the beginnings of the tips of your ears. You can smell him. He smells good. 

“That a textbook recitation is all it takes to get you all bothered down there.”

Lifting your head from its craned position over your papers, you stare straight ahead. Blank and unassuming. 

“Take a hike, Kim.”

“...Sorry.”

NO MATTER HOW FAKE annoyed you were at your boyfriend, you cannot possibly credit anyone else for how smooth your finals had gone. 

Not a single tear, hack or whine. Your meals were on time, your sleep schedule the healthiest it’s been for months. You even managed a movie night break in the midst of it all. A record for you. 

The very first thing you do after walking out of the exam hall, stretching and sighing, you find Mingyu waiting with nervous eyes. 

“Well?” he asks, eyes wide and lips pulled into his teeth. 

You merely grab for his hand and pull him out of the crowded hall and past a few familiar turns. 

“For the record I didn’t want some of the questions on there,” he yaps as he follows behind your stalks. “Hard ones weren’t mine. I promise I’m not a sadist.”

Then, in an un-CCTV’d corner, marked by the broken, empty vending machine, you round up on him. In seconds you’ve pulled him down to meet your lips in an eager, full kiss. 

In the moments your lips remain intact, you can feel all the horrid statistical knowledge you’d gathered over the months slip out the cracks and crevices, relieving you. 

Mingyu is careful to let you pull away first, eyes sticky to open when you do. There’s a smile on your face. “It went great.”

A strong tug against your waist and you’re suddenly pressed into Mingyu’s all too familiar hold, so everloving tight you can hardly breathe. His lips are smacking and pressing into your skin, all over your face, neck and hands. Anywhere he could possibly reach. 

There wasn’t much he could do standing in a huddled corner at nine in the morning on a Tuesday, where anyone could pass by and question what in the high school was going on. But there was more than enough Mingyu could do behind closed doors. 

In true Mingyu fashion, he’s begun to grope in every way you love the minute the lock clicks shut of his apartment, every fibre of both of your beings giddy and jumpy, giggles erupting from your tired mouths. You haven’t been touched in ages, always too tired to do anything even when you would find the time. 

It isn’t remotely strange that you're wet from only a few kisses and hot breaths against your neck. Although Mingyu’s hands haven’t been modest either, already reaching your clothed cunt as you fall into bed. 

He says it was your reward, for doing so good, his illustrious mouth suctioned onto your naked core, moving and grinding in ways you can more than just appreciate.

His tongue is nothing below made for you, like he knows exactly when to flick his tongue, graze his teeth and all but suck the daylights out of you. It’s marvellous, even more so as you realise he won’t stop. One, two, three mind blowing orgasms later, your legs still shake around his head as you cry out for him to stop. 

Not that he was going to listen, as he did not the last fifteen times you tried, simply pushing a finger into your abused hole to chuck you into yet another climax. You’re sobbing, trembling, sweating; but also half hearted in your attempts to stop him. 

By the time he’s relented, you’re sure you won’t feel a thing down there for at least a week. If Mingyu will even let you go untouched for that long. 

But as you’re finally able to catch your long lost breath in bed, and Mingyu has curled up right beside you, like he always does, you let the finality of it all sink in. You were done. And so was he. And you could now begin to experience a Mingyu that wasn’t exhausted, stressed or tired. Even now, the long indented layers of fatigue begin to melt away, revealing a less strained man. 

Mingyu was beautiful either way. 

“Are you okay?” he asks you, his fingers tracing your features. 

The pads of his fingers glide across your eyelids, down the slope of your nose, tracing the outline of your lips. You kiss his fingers as they reach you there, hand coming up to hold his wrists. You kiss the tips of his fingers, down to the palm of his hand. Eyes closed, you keep your lips there. 

“More than okay,” you mumble. 

“Good. Thought I lost you there.”

Stretching unceremoniously, you drape yourself over his naked form, head on his shoulder. “You’re not losing me. Not after being the sole reason I pass this devil’s module.”

“Is that all it takes? Make sure you don’t fail?”

“And give head like that.” It’s a half joke. “But also be Kim Mingyu comma TA.”

He mimics you between a breathy laugh, “Comma TA. Not anymore, I guess.”

“How happy are you?”

“Still have to grade the last set of papers. But I got what I wanted.”

“The recommendation? You deserve it.”

“That, and not having to be in Dr. Cho’s presence every other day. And you.”

You kiss his shoulder. “Look at you. All grown up with your big boy grad school on the horizon.”

“Not just yet.”

“You’ll get there too. If you can power through this hellsent semester, you can power through anything grad school applications throw.”

Mingyu shifts where he lays, taking a turn to lie on his side to face you. The afternoon sun peeks from behind his form, his outline made of pure gold. His breath is in your face as he talks, and there’s comfort in the air it penetrates.

“I only powered through this because of you. I hope you know that.” He’s smiling. 

“Girlfriend duties,” you quote solemnly. 

“I mean it. I knew I was walking into disaster with how this stupid job was going, all that work was just a distraction. I didn’t wanna believe this was a bad idea. And then you walked in.”

You cup his face and pout, “Oh, my damsel in distress.”

“Hm, my knight in shining armour,” he giggles. “Galloped in and saved me from myself.”

“You saved me too. From the world and its horrible creations.” 

“I’ll start talking in formulas if this keeps up.” 

You can only grumble in mild annoyance. 

“I’m glad I asked you to come in early that day,” he says.

“I’m glad I was a good samaritan and gathered all your stuff that day.” You grin.

Mingyu leans in and kisses you. It’s soft, slow, and drips of the romance he’s trying to bring into the conversation. His lips are bliss, the feeling of him is bliss. 

It’s almost scary how easily you’ve been able to give yourself to him. How quickly he’s placed himself in every nook and cranny of your heart. With his tired eyes and stronger than himself smile, the hand he extended in ways beyond you could ever explain to him. It’s terrifying when you realise what remains on the tip of your tongue, ready and bursting. 

But it’s true, and you can only pray it remains that way. Because in that moment, naked and tangled between Mingyu’s limbs, his heart in your ears, your hands on his being, you just know. 

“I think I might love you too.” 

☆.｡.:* nothing is worse than getting paired up with a stranger for twitch rivals 2022, except maybe being matched with your very competitive ex boyfriend park sunghoon.

pairing: streamer!sunghoon x f!reader

tags: exes to lovers, enemies to lovers

warnings: once again i am not funny :/ might be rly inaccurate, lots of cursing, mentions of drinking, mentions of skipping meals once (will add more soon)

status: COMPLETED

taglist: closed

featuring: wonyoung, itzy, txt, aespa

note: surprise????? idk how this is gonna turn out but hopefully it’ll be enjoyable :’) ive ran out of creativity

which twitch rivals character are you? (uquiz) — dont forget to share your results with me :)

INTRODUCTIONS: profile 1 / profile 2

01 — go cry about it

02 — 1/29 possibility

03 — the duos are out!

04 — this is a simulation

05 — don’t try this at home

06 — loose-lipped whore

07 — live laugh kimchi

08 — bad idea rly 0.8k words

09 — mangoes are overrated

10 — stop gaslighting yn 😡

Keep reading

## you, me and the moon. — l. heeseung

synopsis: lee heeseung is a famous frat boy who is known to be mysterious since he would always stay at the corner to observe people passing by but he does not like the fact that his eyes would linger a little longer on you than he likes to admit because who the fuck is he kidding? you're way too good for him.

pairing: fratboy!heeseung x fem!reader

content/genre: college au, fratboy au, pining, big ass slowburn (here we go again), angst, fluff

warning(s): i'll put them on every chap. <3

note: another smau !! i thought it would be a one time thing but here we are <3 tell me if you want to be added on the taglist okay? <3

introduction/drabble.

zero. — profiles. / profiles (two). / profile (three).

one. — how it started (pilot).

two. — how the first day went.

three. — how y/n bumped into heeseung.

four. — how heeseung became sunshine.

five. — how y/n got her favorite note.

six. — how jisung and hyunjin rated heeseung.

seven. — how heeseung almost got caught.

eight. — how jake concluded the plot twist of the century.

nine. — how y/n got a large cup of coffee.

ten. — how jay woke up a little earlier than usual.

eleven. — how heeseung priv got people.

twelve. — how heeseung and y/n got lunch together.

thriteen. — how heeseung is so stressed about sunghoon.

fourteen. — how a heey/n fan account was made.

fifteen. — how jisung's stupid lame plan worked.

sixteen. — how y/n got heeseung to dance.

seventeen. — how heeseung tolerates y/n's ass.

eighteen. — how the heey/n fan account survived the drought.

nineteen. — how y/n and heeseung had a deep talk.

twenty. — how it took seven days for heeseung to convince jake.

twenty-one. — how jake and y/n had a date.

twenty-two. — how the heey/n account almost deactivated.

twenty-three. — how heeseung is looking out for y/n.

twenty-four. — how y/n slowly distanced herself from heeseung.

twenty-five. — how heeseug did things with you.

twenty-six. — how jake got frustrated with heeseung.

twenty-seven. — how valentine's went for them.

twenty-eight. — how sunoo got banned in the e-sports area.

twenty-nine. — how heeseung told jake about his plan.

thirty. — how heeseung and y/n started talking again.

thirty-one. — how y/n broke it off with jake.

thirty-two. — how heeseung and y/n got their moon date.

thirty-three. — how heeseung's one mistake caused everything to make sense.

thirty-four. — how heeseung almost did it... again.

thirty-five. — how y/n is slowly getting impatient.

thirty-six. — how jake and sunoo realized.

thirty-seven. — how y/n did the job for heeseung.

thirty-eight. — how heeseung gave y/n space.

thirty-nine. — how they "talk" after the argument.

forty. — how jake knew y/n still cares for heeseung.

forty-one. — how the semester ended.

forty-two. — how heeseung talked to y/n.

forty-three. — how y/n spent her semestral break.

forty-four. — how the first day of second sem went.

forty-five. — how heeseung ended up in the hospital.

forty-six. — how the heey/n fan account came back.

forty-seven. — how it was just you, me and the moon.

alternative ending. — how you were such a good dream.

playlist.

memes. / two.

au taglist [ open ! ] : @amakumos @soobnny @jungwoniics @venusmir @clarakyunisageek @dontcallme20

permanent taglist [ open! ] : @ja4hyvn @goldenhypen @acciomylove @kuromieiie @baekhyunstruly @knrejj [ can't be tagged/deactivated: @robotsahi @sheepgardenenha ]