Mirror Mirror On The Wall, Who's The Filthiest Of Them All P. S.H.

mirror mirror on the wall, who's the filthiest of them all — P. S.H.

I've had "seonghwa jerking off in front of a mirror and recording himself and cumming on the mirror" written in my drafts as a "note" for a MONTH now without writing anything. so I'm just gonna write smth and give you a treat. enjoy, my beloved perverts <3

idol!Seonghwa x gn!reader. 18+. MDNI.

imagine being in a relationship with an idol. it's already a difficult situation in itself, right? and the way it pretty much forces you into a long-distance relationship makes it even harder. always busy, rarely at home. you get needy. Seonghwa gets needy. you do what you can to take care of that problem through sexting, phone calls, face time, and whatnot. which is better than nothing.

but what you didn't expect with all of this, is what a tease Seonghwa would get — using this as an opportunity to rile you up, tease you, and keep you on your toes. he starts surprising you with audios of him moaning and touching himself, or nudes, when he knows you're at work, when he knows you're around your friends, when he knows you can't talk to him or touch yourself, leaving you horny and flustered. but if you said you didn't like it... you'd be lying.

you also didn't expect Seonghwa to get so nasty. and definitely didn't expect to receive a short video while you're busy in the middle of the afternoon, of him filming himself jerk off in front of a mirror in his hotel room at what for him would be nighttime. wearing a white tanktop, his jeans pulled down just enough to let him take out his long, hard cock. his eyes move back and forth between watching himself in the mirror and through his screen. Seonghwa grins and bites his lip.

you hear his hushed moans and groans, the wet sounds of his cock lubed up by precum and who knows what else. lube? his own saliva? your mind takes off without you realising it. it's all so hot you wish you could jump through the screen and put that pretty dick in your mouth. by now, you can easily remember the weight of him laying on your tongue, how he tastes, and how he fills your mouth when he grows harder as you suck him off.

Seonghwa stands up, his jeans falling down to his ankles. standing closer to the mirror, with his eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed together, he twists his hand around his length as he strokes it faster. the sight of the tip glistening with precum makes your mouth water. as if he knows this, he starts cursing out loud and moaning your name, telling you how much he misses having you drooling with your lips stretched around him. telling you how much he loves it when you beg him to cum in your mouth, or on your face. calling you a cumslut.

you catch yourself moaning while your eyes are locked on your screen. that's what this little shit does to you. he's not wrong. you are a cumslut — his cumslut. and you miss him so fucking much. you observe with big eyes as Seonghwa edges closer to his high. he starts whimpering, hissing through his teeth, his moans getting more high-pitched. before you know it, he climaxes with a deep groan, and shoots his cum... straight on the mirror. your jaw drops as you watch it drip down the glass. he just laughs with a mischievous glint in his drowsy eyes, sighing in sweet bliss with a half-smile... and the video ends.

you stare at the screen for 30 seconds before you come back to your senses.

you: what the actual fuck

bunny 🐰: 😏

you: are you insane???!

bunny 🐰: I'm going to bed now, I'm so damn tired

you: babe

bunny 🐰: I hope you have a good rest of your day 💖

you: BABE

you: don't you dare leave me like this

bunny 🐰: goodnight, my love 🥺💖

pressing record audio, you yell "whore!" straight into the mic, hit send, and throw the phone away and mope. a minute later, your phone goes ding, and you groan dramatically, but reach out to pick it up nonetheless.

bunny 🐰: I love you too 😚

miscommunication [trope — yeosang]

inspired by: friends — sitcom

word count: 2.1k

content: angst, smut, miscommunication, bedroom sex, (unintentional) infidelity, unprotected sex (pls remember to wrap up irl!), completely consensual (sex)!

trope masterlist | part one | part two

You were waiting for Yeosang at the restaurant. You both agreed on the time and the place earlier in the week, and yet, he was still late. He was always late. The only time you ever saw him on time was the very first date you went on with him, and he was early for that because he was nervous. Now? Now he was late.

If it was only by ten or fifteen minutes, you would’ve been okay with it. However, it was never just ten or fifteen minutes. It was hours. Once, he kept you waiting at home with a home-cooked meal you put your back into for three hours. The worst part was that he always had an excuse, and his excuses were legitimate. Honestly, you wondered why you were still torturing yourself with the guy, but then the second you saw his face, the second he showed you the love that you oh so desired, you forgave him. Just like that.

This time, however, you were not going to do that. You were going to let him have it, and you were going to end it.

“Yeosang… You did it again," you uttered the second Yeosang arrived wheezing and panting.

“I’m sorry, baby. I really am,” Yeosang apologized earnestly. “I just forgot that we switched the location, and then time got away from me—”

“How many times will you use that excuse?! This is the third time this month! And I even texted you this morning to confirm, and you replied saying that you got it, so what the fuck?!”

You slammed your hand down on the table and got up. Yeosang grabbed your arm, but you snatched it away immediately and stormed out of the restaurant. He followed behind you shortly, and he walked behind you as you continued to walk away. Unfortunately for you, the light turned red, and you were stuck at the intersection, allowing him to catch up and pull you into a tight hug.

“Yeosang, let go of me,” you said as you fought to get out of his ridiculously strong arms.

“No, I’m not going to,” Yeosang responded, his embrace tightening. “Baby, I’m seriously sorry. You know I’m just really bad with these things—”

“You say that all the time, and nothing’s ever changed!”

“Let me make it up to you.”

“How are you going to do that this time?”

“Move in with me.”

Your eyes widened. You leaned away from him and looked into his eyes, yours darting back and forth as you tried to make sense of the situation. He seemed to be very serious about his proposition, and the thought of moving in with a boyfriend, not going to lie, scared the complete shit out of you.

“Or, if that’s too daunting,” Yeosang quickly added. “I want you to have a key to my place, and you can stay whenever, sleepover whenever— I just want you to know how serious I am about you. Please, baby.”

“Yeosang, one of these days, you either need to get it together, or this isn’t going to last,” you warned him.

“I know. I will. I’m sorry. Please.”

You knew that it wasn’t going to be so simple, that Kang Yeosang was incapable of changing so easily, but you loved him. You were going to make it work, right?

“Alright.”

The two of you went back to his place so he could give you the set of spare keys, but that never happened. Instead, the second you got there, Yeosang pinned you against the front door and kissed you passionately. Both of his hands cupped your cheeks, his palms resting on your cheeks while his fingers supported your neck. He was kissing you earnestly, as if he was trying to prove his love.

His hands worked on getting your clothes off as the two of you remained in the foyer, his impatience getting the better of him. He traced his hands over your bare shoulders and down your arms, the feeling of his hands alone enough to cover your entire body in goosebumps, the sound of your mingled gasps and breaths adding to the effect.

You were completely stripped down to nothing when Yeosang turned you around and pressed you against the door, his hand tracing the curve of your waist before grabbing your ass cheek tightly and pulling up on it, the intensity turning you on quickly. He continued to grope your ass and used his other hand to play with your breast while his mouth planted on your neck and left little marks scattered along the side of your neck and on your shoulder.

When he turned your face, he kissed you passionately again, completely distracting you as he, too, stripped down. He slipped his hand down to your neck, and his other hand began stroking your cunt, the tips of his fingers teasing you by scratching in lightly. You shared soft, breathless moans that melted into your endless kisses, the sound enough to turn you on so much that the second Yeosang’s finger brushed past your clit, you felt your insides clench, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came.

Without giving you so much as a moment to prepare, Yeosang slid his cock into you, making you moan so loudly that it echoed in the foyer hall, overpowering the loud smack of his waist against your ass.

“Yeo—” you calling his name got cut short when he rutted into you suddenly, his thrusts short and sporadic. “Yeosang… N-Not here…”

You were honestly waiting for a verbal confirmation from the man. Instead, he quietly pulled out and turned you so that your back was pressing against the door. He stuffed you full with his cock again, a muffled cry leaving your pressed lips. You were honestly so worried that he was going to fuck you into the door, letting his neighbors hear every single thing the two of you were doing, but instead, he cupped the underside of your thighs and lifted you.

Your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist as he walked you into his bedroom, his cock still deep inside you. He brought his head up and connected your lips with his again, his tongue teasing yours. When he got to his room, you thought he was going to drop you on the bed. Instead, he remained carrying you, his ridiculously strong arms lifting you and dropping you quickly on his cock, the sheer speed and impact making stars appear in your eyes.

“Ah— Yeosang! P-Please don’t drop me,” you begged as you clung to him tightly, your nails digging into his back muscles as you pressed your head into the his collarbone.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got you,” Yeosang uttered, his lips by your ear.

You continued to moan as Yeosang moved you even more forcefully, the slapping of his waist to your ass reverberating in the room. You felt like you were starting to slip, making you hug the man tighter. Not only did your arms get tighter, but so did your walls, his dick feeling the intensity of your clench. Yeosang’s breathing hitched, and he let out a low groan as he came. He held you in place and let his cock twitch inside you, his cum just filling up to the point where it was leaking out of your cunt and onto the area rug in his room.

After he had cum completely and started going soft in you, Yeosang moved you to the bed. He pinned you down and gazed at your face with love and affection as you blinked the tears away from your eyes. He tucked a stray piece of your hair behind your ear and kissed your temple softly, his eyelashes fluttering against your skin and tickling you.

“I promise, baby,” he whispered, his low voice making your knees tremble. “I’m going to make it up to you all night tonight.

“I cannot fucking believe this, Kang Yeosang!”

You were screaming at the top of your lungs as you stormed around your apartment, your boyfriend’s eyes following your every movement.

“Y/N, I said I was sorry—”

“You keep fucking saying you’re sorry, and I keep fucking falling for it! Just stop apologizing, and just say that you don’t love me anymore, Yeosang!”

“You know that’s not it—”

“No, but it is because you do this to me every single time without fail!” You slammed your hands down on the kitchen countertop and kept your head down, tears threatening to slip out of your eyes. You sniffled and wiped your tears before yelling with a wavering voice, “How can you fucking forget Valentine’s Day of all days?!”

“It just… It just slipped my mind.”

“Right. Because the day that is literally the national sex day is something that can slip out of your goddamn head.”

“Well, yeah!”

“Yeosang, there are hearts and flowers and reds and pinks in every single fucking store, every single street and alley, and I even asked you about it yesterday!”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, okay! But what should I do about it now? Also,” Yeosang shoved his arm forward, revealing the big bouquet of flowers he got you for the holiday. “I did get you flowers! All I did was forget to book a table at the restaurant, and I definitely did not forget that it’s Valentine’s Day— I’m saying that the reservation slipped my mind!”

“I asked you about it yesterday. You didn’t think to tell me yester-fucking-day?!”

“I am sorry! What more do you want from me! I can’t undo the entire day and restart! We’ll just do it properly next year!”

“Next year?” your heart sank, and your tone dropped. “You seriously… You seriously think there will be a next year, Yeosang?”

Yeosang’s mouth was open, but not a sound came out. He wanted to say something. He really wanted to say yes, that there would be a next year, but based off the way you said it, he wasn’t sure.

“I think… We need a break.”

“A… Break?”

“Let’s take a break,” you said. Let’s take a break— as if you were Ross and Rachel. “Let’s take a break.”

How long are breaks supposed to last, anyway? It had been weeks since you spoke to him. You wondered if he expected you to reach to him, but there was no way you were going to because it was his fault. He should apologize to you and come crawling back to you, right?

So then why the fuck was he sitting in a café across from another girl who was clearly laughing and flirting with him? What was supposed to be a detoxing shopping trip quickly turned into high anxiety and stress the second you saw him sitting there, the biggest smile on his face as he let that girl touch him so familiarly, and it took everything in you to keep from storming in and grabbing that bitch by her hair.

Well, you stormed in, but you didn’t grab her by her hair. Instead, you stood right before him, your eyebrows knitted together as you stared at the situation in complete confusion.

“Y/N?” Yeosang sounded surprised to see you— not shocked or worried; simply surprised.

“What the fuck is this?”

“What do you mean?”

“This!” you pointed at the girl. “Who the fuck is this?!”

“A girl I’ve been seeing—”

“What do you mean a girl you’ve been seeing?! Why have you been seeing someone?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Patrons of the café were definitely staring, and while you would’ve been embarrassed normally, you were too fucking pissed to give a shit about who saw your dirty laundry.

“What do you mean?” Yeosang stood up, the two of you locking eyes. Without so much as even a stutter, Yeosang continued, “Because we broke up, remember?!”

“What the fuck?! I said let’s take a break, Yeosang! I just needed time for myself!” You were damn near tears and were barely able to choke out, “I never wanted to break up with you!”

That was the thing. You never wanted to break up with him; but, seeing him in the café with another girl just a mere couple of weeks after declaring you needed a break, seeing him move on so fast without even bothering to check on you, without even thinking he should clarify what the status of your relationship with him was, was enough to show you how he really cared. You weren’t going to fight for him, you weren’t going to beg for him to come back, and you certainly were not going to just let him be without a final confirmation. You grabbed one of the drinks from his table and poured it on his head, the man gasping and hunching his shoulders in shock as the coffee trickled down his face and absorbed into his clothes.

“Consider yourself dumped, Kang Yeosang,” you bit out. “We’re definitely broken up now.”

trope masterlist

trope taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @hyukssunflower @yunhogrippers @oreoqueen @xhexy

network: @cromernet

apply for the taglist here!

unrequited love [trope — yunho]

inspired by: operation true love — webtoon + seventeen star show 360 — variety show (+ my brother's love life)

pair: sleazebag!big dick!yunho/afab!reader

word count: 3k

content: angst, smut, unrequited love, infidelity, yunho is kind of a dick, mingi is also kind of a dick, san is the best friend you are ever going to have, public sex, bathroom sex, safe sex, references to drug use, consensual sex

author's note: ngl i felt like such a shitty person writing this one mainly bc i'm using my brother's real life experience for this... nilly i am so so so sorry

trope masterlist | part one | part two

“Yunho, I’m nervous…” you whispered as he whisked you away into the bathroom.

The two of you were at a dive bar with your friends drinking and enjoying your youth when he suddenly told you to come to the bathroom with him because he wanted to fuck. Not once in your entire life had you done anything like this before, nor did you think you were capable of being so bold, but Yunho was an influence.

“Don’t be,” he grunted out as he closed and locked the door.

“But what if people try to come in? What if they need to use the bathroom—”

Yunho cut you off with a rough kiss before speaking lowly, his voice rumbling in his throat as he said, “There’s another bathroom. Panties off. Now.”

Here’s the thing: it’s not that you didn’t want to do it. You wanted to. You loved fucking Yunho because, fuck, he was huge and so skilled. It kind of bummed you out to think about his string of ex-lovers, but at least you got to reap the rewards of his experience. He taught you so many things, one of them being that sex shouldn’t hurt in a way that you don’t want it to, so when he fucked you, it was always brilliant.

It was more about the location of where he was fucking you. A bathroom in a dive bar? Gross. So gross. And the fear of someone walking in on you was an additional factor, but for some reason, that fear also turned you on? A great woman once said that scared is the best way to be horny, so fuck it. Just roll with it. At least the sex would be safe. Yunho always practiced safe sex.

You lifted up your skirt and started pulling down your panties, but Yunho decided you were taking too much time for his impatient ass. He yanked your panties down for you, forcing you to take them off, and he crumpled them up before stuffing them in the pocket in his jeans. You were a little worried about why he did such a thing, but that worry immediately vanished when he lifted your leg up, his hand fitting snugly in the space behind your knee. He pushed you up against the sink and kissed you sloppily, his patience wearing thinner by the second.

He had no patience, but he had to be. He had to loosen you up, make sure you were ready to take him. He shoved two slender fingers into you and spread them wide as he fingered you slowly but roughly. You bit down hard on your knuckle as Yunho continued to prep you for his massive cock, only for Yunho’s mouth to meet yours, distracting your lips with his, your moans with his tongue.

Yunho kept his lips connected to yours when he finally deemed you fit to enter. He skillfully rolled the condom on and thrust sharply into you, your entire body lifting off the sink for a split moment. He continued to ram mercilessly into you, gasps and cries leaving your soul every time he hit your cervix.

“Shh,” Yunho stopped kissing you since, clearly, his mouth was not enough to shut you up. He covered your mouth with his hand and said, “Keep quiet unless you want someone to find out.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you did your best to keep your noises to a minimum, Yunho’s hand assisting in keeping you quiet. But, Yunho with his intense stamina was not letting up, and his strength was making you see white spots. It was when he barely uncovered your mouth were you able to choke out, “C-cumming!”

“Here.” Yunho pulled out and placed his dick right against your folds. His thumb traced rapid circles around your clit as he said in a low voice, “Cum on my cock.”

Which you did. You bit your lower lip and let yourself completely go as you squirted all over his cock, your arousal fluid barely dotting the ground. Without a second to lose, Yunho entered you again, your walls tightening around his length as you still tried to recover from your intense orgasm.

“Shit,” Yunho chuckled. “You got so fucking tight. I’m cumming.”

Thrusting all the way inside you, Yunho filled up his condom, a low groan rumbling in the back of his throat as he emptied himself entirely. He stayed in you for a hot second before pulling out and immediately throwing the used condom away. The two of you got situated, and Yunho was about to unlock the door when you stopped him and held out your hand.

“What?”

“My panties, Yunho. You have them.”

Yunho smirked. He leaned down and whispered into your ear, “You don’t need them. Let’s go.”

Before you could protest further, Yunho unlocked the door, and the two of you, completely inconspicuously, left the bathroom. Your face was steaming when you rejoined your group, your legs pressed tightly together and your hands pulling down at your skirt as you sat uncomfortably.

“What was it? Blow?” Mingi asked.

“Something like that,” Yunho chuckled before picking up his beer and tapping his bottle against Mingi’s.

“No wonder Y/N looks all fucked out,” Mingi brought his voice down and whispered more to you than Yunho.

“N-no, it was nothing like that,” you squeaked out, your grip on your skirt tightening.

“Whatever you say, babe,” Mingi responded with a smirk and a wink. “Whatever you want to tell yourself.”

You were unable to focus on anything for the rest of the night, the horniness and fear pumping through your veins until you got home in the early hours of the morning, Yunho completely sending you home alone sans panties, making you take care of your lust all by yourself.

“You cannot be fucking serious, Y/N— how could you go along with that?!” your friend yelled at you as you recanted your story to him.

The two of you were preparing for a little birthday party— your birthday party— you were throwing on the roof of your apartment complex. He asked you about the guy you were seeing, and when you answered, that was his reaction.

“San, it was fine! I mean, the bathroom grossed me out, but I wanted him to fuck me,” you explained.

“You sure it was consensual?” San pressed further.

“Yes, it was,” you said confidently.

“But then what about your panties? That was totally not consensual,” San huffed out.

“I mean, yeah, sure… But it wasn’t really his fault you know.. He had a lot to drink,” you tried to defend Yunho’s actions— you both were drunk, and he usually wasn’t like that when he was sober, so you wanted to write it off as his drunken self being an idiot.

“Y/N, seriously, you need to get your head checked. You were not cool with that, and it doesn’t matter how many drinks the guy has had! If you ask for your fucking panties back, then you should get them back,” San lectured. “The guy was sober enough to pocket them and tell you he wouldn’t give them back, so you can’t blame the alcohol.”

“San, I get it, you’re worried. But, if I really wanted them back, then I would’ve pushed harder for them.”

“You need to get your head checked. Seriously,” San said, a slight tinge of malice in his voice. “You’ve fucking lost it.”

“That’s kind of rude, don’t you think?”

“Forget about all of what happened that night. I want to know what the hell your relationship with the guy is. You keep saying that you want a fairytale romance, but so far, I’ve heard more nightmares then dreams coming from your mouth.”

“What do you mean, San? You know everything there is to know about me and my relationship with him.”

“Have you ever had sex with him at your place or his place? You’re always out and about when you have sex with him—”

“We did it at a hotel once.”

“That doesn’t count. Have you even seen his apartment?”

“Well, not yet—“

“Did he get you a gift for your birthday?”

“I don’t know! The party hasn’t even started yet,” you were starting to get annoyed with San’s questions.

“Alright, fine. But what about labels? Are you his girlfriend? Is he your boyfriend?”

“We haven’t really talked about it—”

“Good fucking lord, Y/N! What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!”

“What’s going on?” a new voice popped up.

You and San both turned to the stairs to see Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Seonghwa standing there with a cake, balloons, a bunch of alcohol, and fearful looks on all of their faces.

“Gimme a beer, and you finish the fucking decorations. I can’t with this bitch right now,” San nearly spat out as he dropped the streamers.

You looked at San with a huge frown on your face. Seonghwa replaced the man as San grabbed two beer bottles from Wooyoung and stormed off to a blind spot on the rooftop.

“What is San going on about?” Seonghwa asked you.

Apparently, San could still hear from where he was on the roof (despite the fact that he was out of sight) and yelled, “Tell her that the fucking guy is just using her! He doesn’t give a shit about her!”

“Then why would he practice safe sex with me, huh?! Why would he cater to me before fucking me?! So that I don’t get hurt! Don’t fucking say he doesn’t have feelings for me, you dick!” you got all riled up and started screaming back at your best friend.

“Hey, hey,” Seonghwa put a calming hand on your shoulder, his other hand motioning for you to slow down and take a deep breath. “Don’t let San get to you. You know that he’s only saying these things because he cares for you. He doesn’t want to see you get hurt. None of us do.”

“Then he should be more supportive of my relationship if he’s such a great friend,” you grumbled. “It’s not like he knows what it’s like to be in a committed relationship.”

“Yes, that may be true, but he knows what men are like. We all do,” Seonghwa continued in his calming voice, but you could read in between the lines.

“You don’t like Yunho either, do you?” you confronted him.

“…I haven’t met the guy yet. Maybe my opinion will change when I meet him.”

“Good. Because he’s coming to the party tonight.”

“Tell him to stay far away from me, then!” San called from afar.

“San! Stay out of it!” Seonghwa lectured the man. “Don’t listen to San, okay? Besides, it’s your birthday. Just have a couple of drinks, eat some cake, and have fun.”

Seonghwa brought you in for a hug, and your irritation slowly melted away simply knowing that you had a friend on your side.

Your friends slowly started arriving for the party once you and your friends (excluding San because he refused to help after finding out Yunho was going to be at the party) finished decorating the roof. You did your best to not let San’s words get to you as you plastered a smile onto your face and greeted all of your friends prettily, but it was only when Yunho arrived did your smile become genuine.

“Yunho!” you said cheerfully.

“Hey, Y/N. Happy birthday,” he greeted while extending his hand, a small gift in his grasp.

“Thank you! Listen, I want to introduce you to my friends,” you held his hand and brought him over to your group— some people from work, some people from the gym, your close friends: Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Jongho— everyone but San. San kept his distance like he said he would

“Nice to meet you guys,” Yunho said, his signature, charming smile shining brilliantly on his face.

You, your friends (again, minus San), and Yunho all drank, sang and danced, cut the cake, opened presents— Yunho got you a cute little necklace with a dangling star— and time just flew by. Soon, it was just you, the helper boys, and Yunho. The helper boys (this time including San because Seonghwa yelled at him to) started cleaning up the roof while you and Yunho stood by the high balcony and admired the view, your shoulder pressed against his arm.

“Hey, what happened to Mingi? I thought you said you were going to bring him?” you asked.

“Oh, yeah. He got really wasted last night and hasn’t been able to get out of bed,” Yunho explained. “I just left him at the apartment.”

“Well, then that’s one less thing to worry about,” you let out a little laugh.

“Yeah.”

There was a tiny bit of silence between the two of you. Yunho pulled out his phone and started going through his notifications while you, on the other hand, started thinking about what San said about Yunho never having sex with you in your or his apartment, and you wanted to prove him wrong because there was no way in hell that Yunho didn’t see that you and he were in a relationship. Sure, you only ever fucked in public, but maybe that was his kink, and honestly, it was kind of starting to become yours as well.

“Hey, so, I was thinking,” you started as you tiptoed your fingers up his arm. “Once we finish cleaning up, do you want to spend the night?”

“Oh, sorry. I said I would go to my girlfriend’s place after you finished cleaning up.”

What…?

What?

What?!

“Y-your… Your what?” you looked at Yunho with wide eyes. “I think I must’ve misheard you… Did you say your friend’s place?”

“My girlfriend. I’m going back to her place.”

You laughed. Yunho was probably pulling your leg. He probably meant it in that teasing way— that he was going to go back to his girlfriend’s— your— place after everything was cleaned up. But, when Yunho looked at you in confusion, you stopped laughing.

“Yunho, what do you mean by girlfriend?” you asked him, the air around you starting to get chilly.

“The girl I’ve been seeing,” Yunho replied nonchalantly. “We started going out a week ago.”

“You mean… You’re seeing someone else?”

“Someone else? Y/N, what are you talking about?”

Your jaw dropped. Your braincells were scrambling to come up with some sort of way to figure out what the hell your current situation was, but you were losing it. Yunho confused the complete shit out of you.

“T-then what are we?”

“What do you mean? We’re friends,” Yunho’s eyebrows furrowed as he faced you.

“I thought we were…” you cleared your throat. “I thought we were dating.”

“You… What?”

“I thought we were in a relationship, Yunho,” you started getting a little confrontational with the guy.

“Why would you think that?”

“I— What?!”

“Y/N, we were just fooling around. I thought you knew that. How could you think we were in a relationship?”

“What the fuck do you mean?!” your voice started to shrill. “You think I would do shit like this with just anyone?!”

“I told you from the very beginning that I wasn’t looking for a relationship,” Yunho explained, his voice calm.

“Oh, but now you are in one, and you didn’t bother to tell me?! And why does she get to be in a relationship with you when you said you weren’t looking for one in the first place?!”

“What is your problem? Why are you getting so upset?”

“Because I love you?!” you looked at Yunho in complete disbelief, your voice officially loud as fuck. “I’m in love with you, Jeong Yunho!”

“Oh…” Yunho looked slightly embarrassed— but he looked more embarrassed for you than of himself based off the look of pity on his face. “I’m sorry, but I’ve never had those feelings right from the start.”

You gaped at the tall man. All the words, all the wind, everything got knocked out of your lungs. You were absolutely frozen in space and time as you stared at the man you thought you knew, the man you thought was in a relationship with you, the man you thought was in love with you. You remained standing still as Yunho’s phone rang. He looked at his phone and let out a little sigh before returning to your gaze.

“It’s my girlfriend,” Yunho said, not a single shred of irony or regret in his tone. “I’ll… I’ll see you around, Y/N. Happy birthday.”

And just like that, your “relationship” came to an end, the man leaving you at the balcony as he rushed to go be in the arms of the girl he actually was in a relationship with. You didn’t move a single millimeter even when Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Seonghwa all approached you, the same painful expressions painted on their face.

Before any of them could touch you, San pushed them aside and grabbed your hand, leading you to some of the ottomans near the lounge chairs. He sat you down and placed a large, warm hand on your back, showing you that he was there for you. Tears pricked your eyes as your best friend continued to comfort you.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry…”

“Fuck.”

Hot tears slipped out of your eyes and rolled down your cheeks, but you weren’t crying or sobbing. No, you were letting the anger out in the form of tears. You weren’t sad— you were pissed.

And San knew that, but that didn’t stop him from giving you a hug, the warmth from his embrace dissipating in a heartbeat into the rage burning on your skin.

“I hate to say it…” San whispered. “But I told you so…”

You wanted to punch San, but he was right. He did tell you. So, you let out a sardonic laugh and accepted his hug, your fingers pressing into his muscles as your wild emotions wrecked your brain and your heart.

“Yeah,” you replied bitterly. “You did.”

Some fucking birthday.

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young & stupid

yoon jeonghan x reader (gender neutral)

you think yoon jeonghan is crazy when he asks if you'll pretend to date him, but luckily for him you're just young and dumb enough to agree.

genre: university + fake dating au word count: 14k warnings: alcohol, profanity, some explicit content, mentions of sex, and a very american writer who says soccer instead of football a/n: posted an unfinished version of this like 4 years ago and randomly decided one day a couple weeks ago to finish it. this is the most indulgent fic i have ever written. pls enjoy my birthday gift to myself lolol

Music bursts from every corner of the run-down frat house, chasing after you no matter where you run to escape it. Bodies endlessly spill in from the patio and front entrance, a never ending revolving door of college kids just like yourself looking for some kind of release after a long week of… well, college. But unlike most times you’ve paid a visit to Soonyoung’s frat house on a Friday night, tonight you’ve already decided that you are not going to be having fun at this party.

Soonyoung begged you to come, bribing your appearance with a promise to study with you for the next math quiz. Of course the first thing he does after walking into the house with you is ditch you. But even that, you deal with. You find some friends among the crowd, acquaint yourself with some beer, and almost start to have fun egging on a brewing dance battle. But all that ends the second you turn a corner too fast and are met with a full cup of bright red jungle juice all over your white shirt.

So now, upstairs in a bathroom Soonyoung let you in to, desperately trying to wash out the stains, you make a stubborn decision to not make another appearance at a frat party for the rest of the semester which you’re positive you’ll break by the time midterms are up.

But for now, helplessly staring at your reflection in the dirty mirror, you arrive to the conclusion that this damn jungle juice stain is not coming out. You exit the bathroom into the adjoining room and start grabbing your stuff to walk home.

“Who the fuck are you?” You jump at the voice that’s joined you in the room. You hadn’t even noticed anyone entering. You stare at the figure, mouth open. “How’d you get into my room?”

“Oh my gosh, so sorry,” you apologize in a hurried voice, packing your things up impossibly faster. “Soonyoung let me in. It was just supposed to be a quick thing–Wait no, that makes it sound like we were hooking up. Which we definitely were not. I can promise you that much, lol, not Soonyoung. But no, I just needed the bathroom. Cause this dude and his jungle juice, and…” you look down at your shirt. “Anyways, I was about to go home. I didn’t even–”

“Okay, wait, slow down.” The guy cuts you off. “You know Soonyoung.”

You nod. “Uh, yeah, we’re friends.”

He steps closer, narrowing his eyes at you, and for a moment you think the guy looks a little bit familiar. “And you’re not a stalker?”

This time you squint, jutting your head forward. “A stalker?” He stares at you unwavering. You scoff. “Um. No. Of course not.”

“Oh, okay, good.” He exhales, his previous demeanor falling entirely. “Well, in that case, let me help.” He walks towards one of the dressers, pulling the drawer open to rummage through it.

“No. That’s okay. You don’t have to–”

“Let me. Plus,” he gestures towards the general direction of your shirt without looking up from the drawer, “that can’t be comfortable. And it definitely isn’t flattering.”

You’re too stunned to say anything back. You’re not sure how you’d respond anyways to what you think counts as an insult from the dude who’s also helping you. You study him instead. You’ve definitely seen him around before, but you’re not entirely sure where or when because you probably would’ve remembered someone as attractive as him. He’s tall, soft-faced with longer hair that cuts off right under his ears, and damn is he attractive. In an obvious—in your face, weak in the knees, god this man is beautiful—kind of way. Not that you notice.

“Here.” He throws a tshirt your way, and you catch it between your arms. You both stare at each for a long moment, until he jumps on his heels a little as if he’s suddenly remembered something. “My bad, I’ll turn around.”

You stare unamused at his backside. He really doesn’t think you’re going to change with him in the room does he?

And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he says: “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He looks over his shoulder with a crooked, mischievous smile. “I mean unless you want me to.” Your stomach throws itself out the window.

You scoff. “I’ll just change in the bathroom.” You fully expect the guy to be gone by the time you exit the bathroom, but instead he’s still there, sitting at the edge of the bed on his phone.

You clear your throat. “Thanks for the shirt.”

“Oh, yeah,” he looks up from his phone and takes you in. You swear his mouth twitches into a half smile. “It’s no big deal.

You let out an awkward half laugh, half sigh. “So, I’ll get this shirt back to you somehow. Thanks again.”

He nods, still staring at the air around your body with that sickeningly charming half smile. You turn for the door.

“Wait!” You pause, facing the boy again who is now standing up, arm stretched out towards you. He drops it at once like it was never supposed to be there. “Are you going back to the party?”

You actually laugh at that. “God, no. I’m going home.”

“Oh.” He tilts his head, and then opens and closes his mouth as if the words keep getting lost in the back of his throat. You try not to think too hard about how endearing the action is. “I can give you a ride if you want.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, that’s alright. I don’t live that far.” You live on the opposite side of campus.

He grabs a set of keys off his desk. “Let me. I wanna get out of this party too. But sadly,” he motions to the room you’re both standing in, then leans towards you a little, “I live here.”

And you know you should refuse. You know there is nothing sensical about letting this stranger, whose name you don’t even know, take you home. But there’s something about his smile and the tufts of hair falling over his forehead, something about the way he gave you his shirt that makes you say yes against your better judgment.

It turns out, leaving the party with the mysteriously nice guy, who’s conveniently hot (again, not that you’re looking), is much harder than it looks. The only plus side to getting bombarded with people wanting to talk to him, is that you learn his name: Jeonghan. And it hits you then, of course you’ve seen him around before. Well, maybe not him, but you’ve definitely seen his picture. His face is plastered over all of the university’s promotional material. Half the school has a crush on Jeonghan, the star soccer player. Unfortunately for you and your apparently impossible wish to go home, it also appears that half the school is at this party and fueled with liquid confidence.

“Hey Jeonghan,” one person in particular slurs, appearing in front of you and him magically. Yeah, you think, if I were him I’d want to get out of this party too. Then as if the stranger has come to their senses, they jump back and clasp their hands over their mouth. A blush paints itself all over their face. “So sorry. I must’ve tripped or something…” they laugh awkwardly. Jeonghan does too. You look over at him and find that he looks incredibly uncomfortable.

“It’s fine,” he tells them, holding his hands up, “I gotta go. See you around though.” And Jeonghan’s turning on his heel ready to dash for the door.

“Wait a second!” The person calls, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm before he can slip out of the house. He turns back around begrudgingly. “I was uh I was sort of wondering if you’d like to maybe go out or something—“

You watch them ask out Jeonghan on a date, and well, it’s sort of cute. The stranger clearly harbors a massive crush on Jeonghan. They’re not being rude or pushy, and honestly, even after accounting for the alcohol, they’re more confident and bold than you’d be. You find yourself wanting to congratulate them. But then, with another look at Jeonghan’s face, you feel a burst of pity. You know that look. Jeonghan is going to turn them down.

“I, uh, I’m really flattered but I…” Jeonghan stutters through his words, shooting you a glance asking for help. You just shrug. Suddenly his smirk reappears. He grabs your hand, pulling you to his slide and lifting your joined hands up like a trophy. “I’m actually with them.”

Your teeth clench immediately to keep your mouth from falling open. You stare at Jeonghan, eyes screaming.

“Oh sorry,” the person looks between the two of you, “I didn’t know.”

You stare at Jeonghan, waiting for him to say something and failing to find any words for yourself. But instead of continuing his lie verbally, he decides to act it out even further, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing the faintest kiss to your knuckle.

That fucker.

“Yeah,” you sigh, grasping at straws for something to say that sounds convincing with your one free hand. “It’s new.” You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand hard enough to know it has to have hurt and promptly drag him out of the house.

Once you’re in his car, safe from all his suitors. You round on him. “You couldn’t have just said no?”

“That was their third time asking me out.”

“And?”

“Turning down people is hard.” He whines, pushing the keys in the car and starting the ignition. “It was just easier to say we’re dating. Plus, you’re in my shirt so it already looks like we just had sex.”

“Or,” you gasp, exasperated, “it looks like I got jungle juice on my shirt, and you just gave me one to wear!”

He gives you a look. “Now, who would believe that?”

You have the sudden desire to dissolve into the seat.

“Anyways,” he says, putting the car in reverse, “where to?”

“East campus. The Austin Complex.”

He makes a triumphant noise while stopping at a red light. “It appears I’m not the only one that’s been telling lies tonight. Not that far you said.”

You gape at him. “My lie is not comparable to yours.”

“Actually I think it is.” He taps a finger to his chin. “In fact, I think it even makes us equal.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

He holds out his pinky as a peace offering. “I’m not moving until you agree.”

“Jeonghan, the light’s green.”

He glances at the green traffic light and proceeds to turn his hazards on in the middle of the fucking road all while keeping his pinky in the exact same spot.

“Are you crazy?”

“Most people don’t think so.”

“People will honk.”

“It’s 1 am.”

You say his name. He says yours. The light turns yellow, and you feel a rush of warmth.

“Fine.” You huff, joining your pinky with his. “We’re equal.”

He passes the light just as it turns red.

—

You haven’t seen Jeonghan since the entire incident. In truth, you’ve been so busy studying for your math quiz with Soonyoung that you almost hadn’t even thought about that night again. Emphasis on almost. However, when you get your score back the following week, the hours you spent studying appear to have been wasted. You slump into a bench outside the lecture hall, holding another barely passing grade to your chest.

And in the midst of your public wallowing, you feel a flick to your forehead.

You yelp and snap your eyes open to Jeonghan who stands before you snickering. “What was that for?”

“Payback.”

You say holding out your pinky as a reminder. “I thought we were even.” He shrugs, sporting a smirk that makes your stomach churn. It should be illegal for someone to look that good with a smirk.

“Excuse me?”

Fuck. Did you say that outloud?

“Nothing.” You quickly mutter, shaking your head. He invites himself to sit down next to you.

“Anyway, what’s wrong with you?”

You groan at the reminder. “Multi.”

“Multivariable calculus?” He asks to which you nod. “Who do you have?”

“Lubinsky.”

Defying all laws of reason and physics, Jeonghan perks up a bit. “Oh, I loved him.”

“His quizzes are impossible.”

“Yeah, but he’s funny.”

You scrunch your noise. “When did you even take multi? Aren’t you a business major?”

He tilts his head at you. “How do you know my major?” You might’ve asked Soonyoung about Jeonghan during one of your study sessions, but you definitely weren’t about to admit that now. Luckily for you, he continues without an answer. “I switched majors last year.”

“Then you must know how much I despise sketching in three axes.” You complain, throwing your head back against the wall.

“Just wait until you get to finding extrema.” Jeonghan hums. You want to shove your head through the damn wall just from the sound of it.

“May my grade rest in peace in that case,” you mutter, fishing through your bag. “Here’s your shirt back.”

He takes it. “So people kind of think we’re dating after the party.”

You can’t help it. You laugh at the look on his face. “Yeah, what did you expect when you said we were together?” He doesn’t say anything. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear the air.”

He furrows his brows at you. “What? No. That’s not what I mean. I…” he hesitates, scratching an area behind his neck. “Well, this past week has been surprisingly calm for me. Not a ton of confessions.” (“Oh, poor Jeonghan,” you murmur.) He looks at you hopefully, “So, I was thinking we keep up the charade.”

You make a noise. “Like fake dating?”

“Yes.”

“Haha, very funny.”

“No, seriously.” He says earnestly. You don’t say anything for a moment just staring at him flabbergasted. He softens, giving you a very soft, “please,” paired with big, brown, pleading eyes.

Goddamn it–those eyes.

You turn your body towards him. “What do I get out of it?”

“I’ll tutor you.” He says, pointing to your quiz grade. You flip the paper upside down. “I got an A in multi.”

“No one makes an A with Lubinsky.”

“Which is exactly why you want me as your tutor.”

You think about it for a moment longer, and, well…

Fake dating Yoon Jeonghan can’t be the worst thing in the world.

—

As you find out during your first session, Jeonghan is not what you’d call a ‘chill’ tutor. You’re both sitting in a far corner of the library, notes splayed out all over the table.

“Do it again.”

“Jeonghan please, we’ve been finding directional derivatives and unit normal vectors for so long now. Let’s take a break.”

He points to your worksheet. “One more.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“I thought you wanted an A.”

“You know, a C isn’t sounding so bad right now.”

“Just do it.”

You groan and set up another integral.

To your complete and utter shock, you’re able to solve the problem all on your own. No clarifying questions to Jeonghan. No flipping through your lecture notes. Just you and the answer.

Jeonghan checks it over, eyes darting between your notebook and his laptop. He pauses for a minute, finger lingering by your boxed, final answer, before very quietly saying, “look at that.” He looks up to you, eyes widened and lips pursed together in a pleasant surprise.

You can barely contain yourself. “It’s right?”

“Well,” he draws out the word, sitting back in his chair and erasing his previous expression. “You still rounded wrong at this step—“

You throw your pencil down. “I’M RIGHT!”

Which unsurprisingly earns you a couple dirty looks from others.

He snickers at your excitement, offering you silent applause at the achievement.

“So can we take a break now?”

He looks at you for a long moment. You stare at him back, shaking your shoulders as if that would convince him of a break. He smiles. “Okay, fine, but only for ten minutes.”

You end up taking it on the roof of the library building, eating an assortment of snacks that you bought from the vending machine and Jeonghan brought from home.

“So, tell me,” you start, grabbing a chip from the bag, “the confessions can’t really be that bad, can they?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean,” you sit up in your chair, stretching out your back, “enough for you to spend your Thursday afternoon doing all this?”

“Ah.” He exhales, sitting down further in his seat and popping a grape in his mouth. “Well, I like to teach.”

“And what about the whole fake dating ruse?”

He shrugs. “It’s easier than being the asshole that says no.”

You lean forward, squinting at him. “I don’t believe that.”

He cocks his head. “No?”

You shake yours. “No.”

“What about you then?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come I know nothing about you?”

“How come you haven’t asked?”

He swipes his tongue over his lips briefly, sizing your question up. Quietly, he says, “Touche.” Then leads forward in his seat and asks if you have an ex.

You steal a grape. “Not an official one.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that there was this guy before university, and we were…” you push the grape in your mouth, letting the burst of it give you time to find the right words. They never come. “We were something,” you settle on, “but he just ended up being more trouble than he was worth. Ask Soonyoung. He’s always hated the guy’s guts.”

“I can’t imagine Soonyoung hating anyone.” Jeonghan muses, pushing the tupperware of grapes towards you.

“Yeah, well, Soonyoung hated people who treated others like they were disposable.”

“So why’d you date him then?”

For a moment, you’re taken aback by the question. Replaying the words over and over in your mind looking for a hint of mockery or judgment. You don’t find any. Instead, you find his brows knitted together, and his lips pushed to the side of this mouth. The question is genuine. A wholehearted curiosity that feels so misplaced coming from the guy who has suitors falling at his feet at least once a day. It’s an innocent kind of curiosity that isn’t trying to pry; it’s only trying to understand. And that thought, the very idea that Jeonghan might actually be trying to get to know you, makes your entire body inexplicably shiver.

The curiosity in his voice bends over and touches yours. “What? You’ve never been young and stupid before?”

He shakes his head. “I was so focused on school and soccer when I was younger. I feel like I never gave myself the chance to just do dumb things, date shitty people, etc. etc.”

Gravely, you say. “It’s really not that exciting.”

He laughs. “I know.” His voice dips. “I just wish I had figured that out myself.”

Jeonghan doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it, but he makes this face, this sad-eyed, forced smile face that makes him look so suddenly vulnerable. Like you could tap his shoulder and watch him unravel from head to toe. You feel a rush of pity in the middle of your chest, a quiet urge to reach over and give him all the teenage regrets he never got to have. Instead, you lean towards him and say, “You’re still young. You can still do dumb things. Date shitty people.”

His eyes flit up to you. You notice what a beautiful shade of brown they are. How big they are. How sincerely sad they look. (And you know, somewhere, in a very far corner of your mind, that those eyes will be the ultimate death of you.)

“Well, I don’t know about that last part.” He starts, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “Technically, I’m dating you.”

You place your palm on your chest. “And I swear to be the shittiest fake partner you’ll ever have.”

He smiles. The sun emerges from behind a cloud. And his eyes–you swear to god–they glimmer.

—

You and Jeonghan’s first outing as an official fake couple is back at the frat house. To your surprise Jeonghan stays by your side the entire time. He takes you around the house, gets you a drink, and introduces you to his friends, but you’re quick to shoot down any shock because what else would a fake boyfriend be doing at a party. Although it’s not as easy to calm down the beating of your heart when Jeonghan’s hand finds its way into yours at some point in the night. By the time the party is in full swing, people bursting from every open door and window in the house, you’re already a little tipsy.

You’re getting a refill for your nearly done drink when another girl appears in front of Jeonghan. From the way she’s twirling her hair between her fingers and leaning into one hip, you can tell that, at least from her end, it’s more than just a friendly conversation. But even that doesn’t really explain what makes you act the way you do. Maybe it’s the alcohol, you reason. Or maybe the fact that Jeonghan’s popularity is just as contagious as the rest of him. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that you’ve gotten a little too invested in this whole fake dating act. Either way, you swallow reason with the last of your drink, strut up to the both of them, and latch yourself to Jeonghan’s side, letting your arm wrap around his. You give the girl a snotty ‘sorry, he’s taken’ before dragging Jeonghan away, giggling into your palm with no intention to return. When you look back at Jeonghan, you find him looking quite amused as well.

“That was good!” He tells you by the time you’re both in the hallway. “But you know what would really seal the deal?”

You’re excited. Fake dating is fun. “What?”

“If we kissed?”

“Oh, please.” Your eyes do a drunken loop de loop. “I’m gonna go get my refill.”

“No, seriously.” He says with a look you can’t quite comprehend. “Look. She’s still watching.”

You look beyond his shoulder and sure enough, the girl is still watching you and him in the hallway. And she looks pissed. Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t that far off with the stalker accusation.

“You see what I have to deal with. Just one kiss. We probably won’t even have to do it again after this.”

“Probably?” You echo.

“Well, yeah, I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs except that you barely hear the words because you’re too focused on taking a tiny step back each time he takes a tiny step towards you. Eventually, the charade ends. Your heel and head meet the wall. His knee meets yours.

You’re painfully aware of your own breathing when you say, “When I said to be young and stupid this is not what I meant.”

He giggles in your face. You can smell the vodka on his breath. Is he drunk? Are you?

“Who’s going to believe we’re dating if we never kiss?”

And well, you can’t really argue with that logic. “Fine, but keep it short.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Do I look like the kind of guy to keep a kiss short?” You snort at that, and when he takes yet another step closer to you, your hands instinctively fly up against his chest. He tangles his fingers between yours and pulls your hands down, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he says except that he’s so close it’s more like he exhales the word and inhales you, “can I kiss you now?”

He lets go of your hands, as if he’s making sure you know you have an out. Your eyes flit up to his, only to find that he’s watching your lips.

“Oh, fuck it,” is what you say before you fist his shirt and pull him in so that his lips meet yours.

And the moment you do all of your previous precautions are thrown out the window because—dang how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?

Somewhere along the kiss, you lose yourself in the sensation of it, tugging on Jeonghan’s shirt. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in until your bodies are flush against each other. And when he slips his tongue into your mouth you tell yourself you allow it to happen because you’re tipsy or touch starved or both. Although none of those excuses explain why your arms snake around his neck and why your entire body turns to jelly when he moans in your mouth.

“Hey lovebirds,” you hear Soonyoung yell from somewhere thousands and thousands lightyears away, somewhere so far away you barely hear it, “get a room.” You both pull away from the kiss, faces only moving a tiny bit apart. Neither of you try to remove yourselves from the other's arms. He smiles, wide enough that his cheek brushes up against your nose, and it makes you forget where you are. Your ears betray you. You let yourself think he’s talking about the kiss and not the charade when he says, “Thanks for that.”

You throw caution to the window, laughing freely against his face. “Asshole. You knew I wouldn’t say no.”

He steps back, pulling away from your embrace. “Yeah,” he mutters, looking back to the main room, “that should do it.” You follow his eyes to see the girl from earlier whispering to a friend while sneaking glances at you two. You’re reminded of the whole reason you and Jeonghan were kissing in the first place.

He points to your cup. “Shot?”

You laugh—or well at least you try to—but it gets caught in your throat and distorted into a small cough. You swallow. “Yes.”

—

Thankfully, things aren’t awkward between you and Jeonghan after the party, although there’s no real reason for there to be other than the fact that you agreed to fake date him without really thinking about what else it would implicate. In fact, things are sort of easy with Jeonghan. He finds you around campus more often, and you find him too, walking each other to class and grabbing coffee when you both have a spare moment. In the midst of getting a fake boyfriend, you also get a new friend. With Jeonghan’s help, you actually start understanding math enough to complete the homework without having to flip back to the textbook every question. And it’s not too long after the party that you’re planning your next outing as a couple.

—

The stands of the field are absolutely packed with people. You had no idea soccer games rallied this much interest at your school.

“We’re playing a top ranked school apparently,” Soonyoung reads off a sign as you both make your way towards the student section. Luckily, he knows as little about the sport as you do. “So, why exactly did you agree to fake date Jeonghan?”

“He’s tutoring me in multi.” You explain to him, scanning the stands. While walking over to the game, you had told Soonyoung about the whole act, confirming what he already started to suspect when you first suggested going to the soccer game together. (“Drunken makeout I get.” Soonyoung had said. “But going to his games seemed like a stretch.” You shoved him off the sidewalk.)

“At least you’re getting something out of it.” He snorts. “Who are we looking for?”

You show him the text from Jeonghan, telling you to sit with his friend. “Do you know him?”

Soonyoung looks into the crowd. “Him?” He asks, pointing to a guy waving you and him over. You inhale sharply, waving back. “So if it’s fake, why is Jeonghan having you meet his friends?” Soonyoung asks as you head over.

“He has his reasons.” You offer, having asked a similar question yourself. You reach the stand where his friend is seated, crossing past the others in the row and gently apologizing as you bump into dozens of knees.

“Hi, I’m Joshua.” Jeonghan’s friend introduces himself as you and Soonyoung take your seats. You return the greeting, introducing yourself to him. Looking around the student section, you notice everyone else dressed in school merchandise. “Was I supposed to wear school colors for this?”

Soonyoung gives you a long look. Then just laughs in your face.

“Asshole.” You grumble quietly. “Could’ve said something.”

Joshua laughs as well, although much less in-your-face than Soonyoung’s. “I’m surprised Jeonghan didn’t give you like a jersey to wear or something.”

You had meant the asshole in question to be Soonyoung, not Jeonghan, but you don’t really have the heart to correct him. Instead, while waiting for the game to start, you ask, “How do you know Jeonghan?”

“Oh, we met freshman year. We both rushed the frat together, but I dropped after one semester.” Soonyoung pops in then, telling Joshua about when he rushed, and the two boys talk about other people they both mutually know. As one does.

They run out of people after a person named Jihoon. Joshua turns back to you. “How did you and Jeonghan meet? I haven’t even gotten the full story yet.”

“We met through Soonyoung, technically, I guess. At the house during a party. Soonyoung let me into his bathroom.”

Joshua nods, and with a playful lilt adds, “not a stalker, are you?”

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and turn back to Soonyoung on the other side of you. “I hope you know I’m never beating the stalker allegations because of you.”

Soonyoung smiles smugly at you.

“No, I’m kidding,” Joshua says through a laugh hidden behind his palm. “I just know how paranoid Jeonghan is about that stuff now.”

The wording pokes at a corner of your mind. “Now?”

Joshua nods, solemnly almost. “He actually had one last year. Didn’t end up being anything seriously endangering luckily. But he barely left his dorm for the rest of the semester after all was said and done.”

You think back to your conversation with Jeonghan on the roof of the library. You feel a familiar pang of pity bloom in your chest. He never got to just be young. Outloud, you hear yourself saying, “stupid.”

Joshua leans towards you. “What?”

You wave it off, and the crowd erupts into cheer. Everybody starts standing up, yelling and jumping and whooping. You hesitate for too long obviously. Soonyoung pulls you up by your arm. You see the team rush the field and the crowd gets impossibly louder. You look for Jeonghan among the players scanning each of them until you find him towards the left side of the field, warming up or something. You’re not really sure. Either way, you hear yourself start cheering when you find him, hands cupping around your mouth. The game starts soon enough with Joshua explaining to you and Soonyoung which position Jeonghan plays and what the hell is happening each time a player receives a card. After the first 15 minutes, you actually get a pretty good understanding of the whole thing.

The first half comes to a close with the opposing team up by one goal and Jeonghan’s team looking exhausted and dispirited.

“Hey, I gotta head out.” Soonyoung tells you once everything has settled down for halftime. “Still have to finish that chem lab due tonight.”

You grimace at the reminder of the report. “Good luck. It took me 5 hours.”

He gives you a miserable thumbs up. Then, turns his attention to Joshua. “It was nice to meet you.”

Joshua returns the sentiment. “I’ll see you at Tim’s once you’re done with the report though, right?”

Soonyoung’s lips turn to a fine line. “I, well, it’s a funny story but uh…”

“He’s banned from Tim’s.” You finish for him.

Joshua does not hide his shock. Soonyoung just shrugs and walks off. Joshua turns to you, exasperated. “But it’s the only bar in town.”

You inhale, “And Soonyoung is the type to get impulsively banned from it for the rest of college.” The answer doesn’t seem to do much of anything for Joshua’s profound confusion. “What’s at Tim’s tonight?”

“Oh, the team always goes there after games. They normally invite some friends too. Whoever can make it out basically.” You nod at his explanation, watching as people leave the stands then return, holding steaming, paper cartons of food. God, that smells good. You crane your neck to see. Are those corn dogs? “Did Jeonghan not tell you about it?”

“What?” He pulls you out of a trance of your own. “Oh, yeah, yeah. I think he mentioned it. I probably just forgot.”

Joshua chuckles politely. “So are you coming?”

Oh crap. “Uh, well…” A million lies run through your mind, chasing past one another, zigzagging in your brain. You have homework. You have other plans. You and Jeonghan aren’t even actually dating. Well—a million lies and one truth you guess. Either way, they all fizzle to nothing. Jeonghan didn’t tell you about the tradition at Tim’s. He probably doesn’t even want you there. So what the hell are you supposed to tell his best friend?

Luckily, you never have to figure that out. Fanfare erupts through the crowd, the announcer sounds throughout the entire field. “Oh the game’s restarting,” you mutter. Joshua is either genuinely disinterested in your response or just polite enough to not ask about it again. You have a crummy feeling it’s the latter.

The second half of the game is much more intense than the first. Your school’s team comes out blazing, scoring a goal in the first ten minutes in an insane effort led by the player with a 7 on his back. And the crowd, you included, absolutely lose their shit. You’re jumping up and down on the stands, screaming at the top of your lungs, voice lost among the rest. The team rushes to the right corner of the field closest to the student section, colliding in hugs and jumps and screaming maybe even louder than the hundreds of you in the stands. You watch Jeonghan in the celebration, hair matted down with sweat, mouth ajar in a soundless cheer, embracing a teammate before ditching him to literally jump on top of another. Your yells turn to laughs. And before you know it, the game is back on, all players racing across the field in a mad dash. The ball goes flying. Penalty cards flying to nearly every player at least once. The entire student section is at the edge of their seats. Time seems to fly by with unified chants filling your ears and throat. There’s only 10 minutes left. The game is still in a tie, and you really don’t feel like sitting here for the extra time. Then, someone starts singing the school’s fight song. Eventually, the whole section is singing it. You included. It ignites something in the team.

The opposing team has the ball, dribbling it across the field and passing it back and forth. Out of nowhere, one of your school’s players appears right next to the opponent with the ball. He kicks the ball out from under the other player, taking him and the rest of the stands by surprise. The ball rolls from under his knees to another of your school’s players. Jeonghan’s teammate is in action immediately, sprinting away with the ball to the opposite side of the field, feet flying faster than your mind can even comprehend. And just as one of the opposing team’s members closes in on him, he punts the ball in the air and it flies and flies and flies. Your heart lurches. There’s no mistaking it–the ball is aimed for Jeonghan. 7 minutes left. Jeonghan receives the ball perfectly, immediately racing away with it towards the goal. An opponent chases after him, forcing him to head nearer and nearer to the touchlines. It all happens so fast. The other player kicks his feet out to steal the ball. Jeonghan crosses the ball over to another teammate. The teammate receives it with his head. He dribbles it forward for half a second and then shoots. Time nearly stops when he does. The goalie throws their entire body to block the ball, and every present body watches, stupefied, as the ball blows right past the goalie’s head and lands squarely within the goal.

And if you thought the previous goal’s celebration was loud, this one’s is deafening. The entire stadium roars in pride. Your school won. Jeonghan won. And you can’t stop fucking smiling.

—

Joshua convinces you to wait for Jeonghan and the rest of the team at Tim’s with him. You do. For matters of fake dating but also because you could really use a beer. Conversation with Joshua is fun and light. By the time you’re both on your second round, his politeness dims to tease you for your drink of choice. You see now why he’s one of Jeonghan’s closest friends.

There’s commotion towards the entrance. You turn your heads towards it and watch Jeonghan’s team rumble through the tiny door, yelling at god knows what and rushing to the bar.

Joshua stands to go say hi. You follow him, walking slightly behind. Jeonghan finds you before you both find him. He tackles Joshua first, hugging him from the side, and literally ‘whooping’ into his ear. Joshua smacks at his face at first, but eventually joins him in the repeated ‘whooping’ jumping up and down in celebration. Then Jeonghan sees you. The whooping fades. He stares.

You swallow.

“Yah!” He exclaims, releasing Joshua and pointing a finger at your shirt. “I thought I told you to wear the jersey I gave you.”

Your face drops. Whatever happened to ‘hi’, ‘hello’, ‘how are you’?

Joshua says something about the bathroom and walks to the back of the bar.

You shake your head at the remaining boy. “It’s a little bit concerning how good you are at lying, you know.”

“Well, we can’t have people suspecting us.” He retorts, stepping closer to you as someone passes behind him.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” You ask, quiet enough for no one else to hear, face scrunching. “I didn’t know what to say to Joshua earlier, but I can definitely make up a lie if you want to just–”

“Are you kidding?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “I want you here! We have to celebrate. This was the biggest game of the season, and we won it!” Then, with that same crooked smile you noticed upon first meeting, he adds, “Plus, you’re not very good at lying.”

You scoff. “Even now, you have the capacity for assholery.”

His eyebrows zip together. “I don’t think that’s a word.”

“It could be.”

Someone pats Jeonghan on the back, handing him a drink. Jeonghan asks what it is. The other person tells him to just drink it. Jeonghan does so begrudgingly. You recognize the person to be player number 7.

“Hi, I’m Seungcheol,” number 7 says to you, holding out his hand. You shake it, introducing yourself and congratulating him on the game.

“Hey, is assholery a word?” Jeonghan asks his teammate, watching your face contort through a thousand different variations of annoyance and disbelief.

Seungcheol looks between the two of you. “Uh, no. Don’t think so.”

“Ha!” Jeonghan wags a finger in your face. “You owe me a drink.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but you head towards the bar with Jeonghan anyways, where you find Joshua again ordering the three of you a round of shots. “No, no,” he insists, when you try to tell him that you’re already buying drinks, “I owe Jeonghan a drink anyways.”

And as you find out throughout the course of the night, apparently every other patron at Tim’s owes Jeonghan a drink. You lose count of how many times you’ve heard him say so after your third beer. Joshua makes his exit soon after that and conveniently right before the team starts singing the fight song again. You start dreaming of bed when a guy you recognize as number 3 gets on a chair and starts leading the crowd.

Your phone buzzes.

Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finished the report :0

Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finally

Soonyoung [1:24 AM]: how’s tim’s

You [1:24 AM]: did you know they had a karaoke machine?

Soonyoung [1:25 AM]: do you not remember how i got banned in the first place

You [1:25 AM]: sore subject mb

You [1:27 AM]: damn how’d you finish the report so fast

You [1:27 AM]: you only started it after the game right

Soonyoung [1:28 AM]: u know me xD

An odd feeling settles in your stomach as they start the last stanza of the fight song. You shove your phone in your pocket and ask for the check.

By 2 am, the celebration is finally winding down, and the entire team is collectively too drunk to stand. “Come on, Jeonghan,” you pull him away as he says goodbye to his friends for the millionth time. “Let’s go home.”

He finally relents, turning away from his friends and throwing both his arms over your shoulders, hugging you from the back. “Let’s go to yours.”

“Mine? Why?”

“It’s closer.” Then after a moment, he bumps his chin against your shoulder and adds, “Plus, I wanna see your room.”

“Fine,” you huff and start walking. Jeonghan releases himself from your back, electing to walk on his own until you realize he’s too much of a wanderer to be unattached, drifting off to the edge of the sidewalk or in the wrong direction every chance he gets. He asks you to carry him. You settle for holding his hand. The two of you walk quietly back to your dorm. That is until Jeonghan starts humming the fight song again. You snap. “Is that the only song you guys know tonight?”

He stops humming and apologizes. You don’t say anything back. Then, very quietly, sounding so infuriatingly innocent, he says, “I didn’t mean to get this drunk.”

You’re an asshole. “No. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m just a little… upset right now.”

He burps. “Because of me?”

The look on his face when he says it pulls a laugh from between your lips. “No. Not because of you.” You make a right onto your street, dragging Jeonghan along as he tries to take a left. “Anyway, I thought student athletes weren’t supposed to drink.”

“No, we’re not supposed to get caught drinking.” Jeonghan holds out his hand in front of him, as if to say ‘stop’ to something invisible to you. “Very different.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Either way, I don’t drink that much.”

You scoff, stopping in front of the door to your building. “What do you mean? You drank last weekend.”

He shakes his head. “That was a special occasion.”

“And the occasion was…?”

He looks you dead in the eye.

“You make me nervous.”

Then, he turns around and vomits into the bushes behind him.

Once you get him to your apartment and in your bathroom, you leave him to vomit out the alcohol. Returning after the retching sounds recede and you’ve changed into pjs. He’s seated on the floor beside the toilet, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. You sit on the other side. Thank god, you cleaned this bathroom yesterday. “How do you feel?” You ask him.

He inhales. “Much better now that I…” He gestures to the toilet.

“Here.” You hand him a glass of water.

He opens his eyes and takes it, drinking from it slowly. “Sorry I got so drunk.”

“You already apologized 30 times on the way up here.” You remind him.

“But I’m really sorry.”

“And I really don’t mind.”

He considers that for a long moment. “You sure?”

You lean forward. “I’m sure. More water?”

He shakes his head, wordlessly eyeing your pajama pants. You look down at your snoopy pants. You hadn’t thought too hard about your choice of bottoms when you changed. “Cute.” He mutters, smiling at them.

You mumble back a ‘thanks’.

“So, what’d you think of the game?”

You tell him honestly how much fun you had watching them play, giving him every reaction you had to every move made and all your unfiltered opinions on the refs. He listens intently, filling you in on all the thoughts that ran through his head while they were playing and every conversation that happened on the sidelines.

“Thanks for coming.” He tells you once you’ve both exhausted all opinions relating to the game itself. “And for meeting Joshua and coming out to Tim’s afterwards and then getting me out of Tim’s too.”

“Jeonghan, it’s really not that big of a deal. And Joshua was a lot of fun to hang out with.”

“Hey, don’t get too attached.” He warns. “I’m the one you’re fake dating.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“So, then, as your fake boyfriend,” he gulps down the last of the water, “are you going to tell me what you were so upset about?”

You exhale, flexing your fingers. “It’s stupid.”

“And here I was thinking we had made a pact to be young and dumb.” You run your tongue over your top row of teeth, holding back a smile. “So, what happened?”

“I just got this text from Soonyoung that he finished this one assignment. And, I don’t know, I just felt so ridiculous because it took me so much longer than him to do.”

“Which assignment? The chem lab?”

You don’t remember telling Jeonghan about it. “Uh, yeah. How did you–”

“Man, who cares if it took you longer? I know Soonyoung, and I know you, and I bet yours is a million times better than his. No offense to Soonyoung, but I’m pretty sure he’d agree anyways.”

“Okay, you’re drunk.”

“That may be true, but it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re brilliant.”

Something about the way he says it, how steady his voice is maybe or the way he refuses to look away, forces you to see how much he believes it. But even that, doesn’t do much to change what you think.

“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t even be passing multi if it weren’t for you.” Your voice cracks as you say the words, making it all come out sounding much sadder than you had intended it to. You hope he doesn’t notice.

“That’s really not true.” You can’t even trust yourself to respond to him. He pouts. “Are you upset again?”

“A little.”

“I’m sorry. Let’s drop it.”

“Gladly.” Then, after a moment, you laugh at how silly it all is.

“First fight of the relationship.” He gives you your second half smile of the night. “I think we should hug it out.”

Your body reacts to the words before you do. “I disagree–”

“Did you just cringe?”

“–you smell like vomit.”

“Well, do you have clothes for me?”

“No, but I have a couch.”

He holds his index finger up. “I’ll take it.”

—

(When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan’s gone. You open your phone and find 2 more apologies and 3 more thank you’s from him.

You try to ignore the twinge of disappointment.)

—

When the third weekend of fake dating rolls around, you admittedly are a bit tired of going to parties and getting drunk. So when Jeonghan asks what the plans are, you suggest he say that he’s taking you out on a date instead.

As such, you’ve spent nearly the entire day in bed. You’re heating up some water on the stove to make ramen when you get a text from Jeonghan saying he’s five minutes away. You stare at the text. The fuck does that mean?

Unsurprisingly, it ends up meaning that he was literally five minutes away. You open the door when he knocks and stare at him standing in the doorway.

“What are you wearing?” Is the first thing he says. You look down at your outfit. “You should’ve told me this was going to be a sweats kind of date before I put real clothes on.”

“Date?”

“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea.” Jeonghan reminds you, strutting into your kitchen.

“No, no.” You say, returning to your boiling water. “My idea was to tell people we’re going on a date. Like as a cover.”

“Oh.” He falls down onto your couch. “Well I’m here so get dressed there’s this new ramen place I wanna try.”

You sigh, turning the stovetop off before trudging to your room to change.

The ‘date’ ends up being quite nice. You discuss a study plan to prepare for your math midterm over a much yummier bowl of ramen than you had planned on consuming today. Afterwards, you walk the streets of downtown, only intending to window shop. However, now, standing in a small boutique, Jeonghan tries to convince you to buy matching necklaces.

“Come on, they’re so cute.”

“We don’t need matching necklaces, Jeonghan.”

“A real couple would definitely have matching necklaces.”

“Good thing we’re not one.”

“Fine then. Guess I’ll just stop tutoring you in math too. You know Lubinsky’s midterms are almost as hard as his finals, right?”

You grab two of the necklaces and turn to the cashier. “How much?” You swear you hear Jeonghan whoop from behind you.

—

“Hey,” Jeonghan whispers, “we’re here.” You open your eyes slowly, not even registering that you fell asleep on the ride back to campus after the date-but-not-date. “You drool when you sleep by the way.”

And that wakes you up. You wipe whatever drool is left on your mouth, muttering a small and embarrassed ‘shut up’.

“What are you doing for the rest of your day?” He asks as you gather your things from his car.

“Absolutely nothing. Today’s the last day to rot before midterm prep starts.” You tell him, looking for your wallet. “What about you?”

“Avoiding a mixer at the house tonight.” He reaches into the center console and hands you the leather slip.

You take the wallet gratefully. “Wanna join me? We can make some tea. Watch a movie.”

He puts the car in park. “I know just what we should watch.”

And that’s how you end up on your couch with Jeonghan, two emptied mugs sitting on the coffee table, blanket draped over your legs, and the worst movie you’ve seen to date playing in the background.

“Wow, this movie sucks ass.”

“This,” Jeonghan gestures passionately to the screen, “is cinema.” You clasp your hands together as if in prayer. He takes a double take at the motion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m thanking god that your major is business and not film.” He immediately smacks apart your hands. “Don’t lie.” You say gasping for air between laughs. “This movie is objectively not good.”

His tongue peeks out between his lips, you practically see the smiling begging to emerge on his face. “Okay, so it might not be all that it was hyped up to be, but–”

“Ha!” You point a finger in his face. “I knew you hated it.” He slumps into the couch, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Do you want more tea?” You ask. He soundlessly nods, refusing to move his eyes from the tv screen.

You stand to make some, grabbing both mugs from the table. “So, do you not have a roommate?” Jeonghan questions, as you pour water from the kettle into the mugs.

You look to the second, empty room of your apartment style dorm. “Actually, no. There was supposed to be someone there, but they moved or dropped out at the start of the year and the school never filled the room.”

“Ah.” Jeonghan clicks, nodding as if finally putting together the last piece of a puzzle “So, that’s why you’re so friendless.”

You return to the couch with full mugs. “I am not friendless.” He makes a face. “Really. I have friends.”

“Other than Soonyoung?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, name them.” You kick him under the blanket. “Fine. You have friends.” (“I have friends.”) “But how come you never talk about hanging out with them?”

You exhale slowly, sinking further into the couch. “I just didn’t do too well in school last semester, so I promised myself I would focus on classes this time around. And, I don’t know, I guess I just got so caught up in that and haven’t really been making the time or effort for hangouts.”

He tilts his head. “You know, I feel like there’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. I mean we see each other regularly.”

“That’s because half of the time we’re studying.”

He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.”

You sigh, considering his point. Maybe at one point you would have thought the same. Last semester you even tried to have it all–the friends, the social life, the grades. But in the end, you dropped the ball. You can’t afford to make those same mistakes. “I just don’t think that world exists for me.”

He finally looks away from the tv and gives his full attention to you. His eyes seem to linger on every turn in your face. Quietly, he says, “So that’s what it is.” He doesn’t offer an explanation immediately. Instead, his chest deflates in one long exhale, and you smother the voice in your head that’s begging you to ask for one. And there’s this conviction in his voice, this breathtaking finality, when he says, “When are you going to believe me when I say that you’re one of the smartest people I know?” that scares the living shit out of you.

He looks at you again, and you swear to god, his eyes fall right through your frame. You swallow. “What about you?”

His eyebrows raise. “What about me?”

“Who are your friends? How do you spend all your time apart from classes, soccer, the frat, tutoring me and–oh my god, nevermind, new question. Do you even sleep?”

He takes a sip from the tea. “Don’t forget the business honor society. I’ll be the treasurer next fall.”

You squint at him. “Why?”

And like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world he says, “oh, well, they asked.”

Suddenly, you’re reminded of all the times you’ve seen him get asked out on dates followed by every time he’s failed to say no. “Jeonghan,” you turn to him, setting down your mug. (“oh, this is serious, okay.”) You ignore him. “Can you not say no to people?”

He blows a raspberry. “I can say no. Ask me something.”

“Uhhhh,” you rack your brain, “how about–let’s go to the beach next weekend.”

The closest beach is 5 hours away, and yet he has the audacity to say, “Wait, that sounds like fun though.”

“I thought you hated the ocean.”

“Yeah, but maybe it’d be fun with you.”

You shake your head, muttering how impossible he is. The end credits of the movie finally plays.

“I should head out.” Jeonghan says, removing himself from under the blanket. You nod, grabbing the mugs of tea and bringing them to the kitchen. He follows you to the door. You both exchange the usual ‘this was fun’, ‘let’s do it again’, ‘I’ll see you later’ that ends every hangout you’ve had in college. But then, unlike every other person you’ve held the door open for as they leave, after Jeonghan says his final goodbye, he gives you a peck on the lips.

Did that just happen?

Your fingers touch against your lips. Oh my god, it did.

He blinks. “Sorry. I, uh, I don’t know why I just,” he points to your lips, swallowing, “lol. We’re always pretending and then now. And you. Okay, well, anyways, I’ll leave.”

He turns and doesn’t look back. You hear a ‘bye’ sound from the hallway.

And it’s only by the time he’s probably halfway home that it hits: You’ve never seen Jeonghan flustered like that.

—

The first day of midterm prep is brutal. You spend the entire night in the library, studying for hours on end. And once an hour, on the dot it seems, you hear Jeonghan’s voice in your head. There’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. That very night you text your friends, asking if they want to join you in one of the library study rooms you have booked every evening this week. They do, excited to hear from you again and for the gentle encouragement to get a head start on studying. You hate to admit that Jeonghan was right, but goddammit he was. You have a blast with your friends. You had barely even realized how long you’d gone without seeing them and how much you missed them. By the time your Thursday afternoon tutoring with Jeonghan comes back around, you’re still on track with the study plan you created over ramen, and you have exciting news for him.

“A birthday party?” Jeonghan says, voice carefully devoid of the disdain you must know he feels.

“Yeah, they heard through whoever that we’re dating, and now they all want you to come.”

“But a birthday party?” He repeats. This time not trying to hide anything.

“Oh come on. I went to the game for you.”

“Yeah, but the game was fun.”

“This will be fun too!” You say in what you hope is an encouraging way.

“Fine. But promise you won’t ditch me for your friends.”

“You’re so dramatic.” You mutter. “But yes, I promise.”

That Friday night Jeonghan meets you at your apartment and the two of you head over to the party together.

Halfway down the hallway to your friend’s apartment, Jeonghan suddenly halts. “Shit, should I have brought something?”

“Like what?”

“A gift? Wine? I don’t know.”

“Jeonghan, it’s a party. Don’t overthink it.” You tell him, opening the door to your friend’s apartment.

You step into her entryway and immediately feel like you’ve been transported into another world. The lights are all off save for some LED lights wrapped around the living room ceiling. An assortment of stacked red solo cups, yak-worthy bottles of vodka, and seltzers take over all available kitchen counter space. Some old pop song from an artist you know your friend loves plays loudly from the tv, reverberating through every pair of ears shoved into this tiny apartment. You inhale. The air reeks distinctly of college. You love it.

“Oh my god, there’s even people on the balcony.” Jeonghan whispers in your ears. You pivot your head around to look at him. He looks back at you, unassuming. “What?”

This entire scene is one you’re quite familiar with, having spent many nights just like this in previous semesters. But as you watch Jeonghan gape at the amount of people fitted into the kitchen alone, you figure he might not be as acquainted with this. “Yoon Jeonghan, is this your first apartment party?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Is it not yours?”

But before you can tell him all about the life you used to live before him, your friends find you attacking you with hugs and introducing themselves to Jeonghan.

Jenny, the birthday girl in question, sloppily points at both of you and says, “I’ve been drinking since noon. You need to catch up.”

After a minute of half-hearted protest, you oblige, heading over to the kitchen area. You grab two cups, handing Jeonghan one. “There’s soda over there if you’re not drinking tonight,” you tell him, pointing to the area beside the sink where a line of mixers await.

He looks over at the bottles, then looks back at you. “Are you drinking?”

“Yes!” Your friend Daniel yells from over the music. You just shrug, reaching for one of the handles. “I guess so.”

Jeonghan inhales sharply, holding out his cup for you to pour. “I’ll have what you’re having then.”

You hesitate, open bottle hovering over the lip of his cup. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Why?”

You frown. “I was thinking about what you said after the game about how you don’t drink that much, and I don’t want you to drink just because I am. I can not drink too.”

He pushes his cup up. “What was it you said earlier? It’s a party. Don’t overthink it.”

Then he gives you that crooked half smile that you’ve come to know so well. You pour him a drink and pour yourself one too. You turn back to your friends, holding up your cup for a cheers.

“Wait, wait, what are we cheersing to?” Daniel asks, grabbing his cup from behind him and holding it up, tapping on Jenny’s shoulder for her to do the same.

It’s Jeonghan who answers. Looking straight at you, he holds his cup up high and says, “To friends.”

You bring the drink up to your lips smiling, watching him watching you. All four of you down your drinks. The drink is absolutely terrible, burning a path down your throat all the way down. Jeonghan hands you another cup, whispering ‘it’s coke’ with an equally pained expression on his face. You take it gratefully.

“God,” Jenny says, placing a hand on her chest while watching the exchange between you and Jeonghan, “they’re like an old married couple already. How have we missed all this?”

“I know.” Daniel says, shaking his head. “I can still barely believe it.”

You glare at him. “Hey, what’s so hard to believe?”

They both ignore you, turning their attention to Jeonghan instead.

“So, we’ve heard all the boring–how you guys met, first date–sort of stuff, but we want to know the juicy details–”

“Jenny, don’t you have other guests to attend to or–”

“Yeah,” Daniel joins in, “like what’s your favorite thing about them?”

You turn to Jeonghan immediately. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“My favorite part,” Jeonghan starts, ignoring your plea to not humor them and tapping a finger on his chin in thought. He must find it after a moment, pausing the tapping and stealing a glance your way. “Probably how much fun I have with them.” He says to your friends. “I feel like we’re always laughing together or just having a good time. I’ve never been able to talk to someone as easily as I do with them. Like you know how when you get towards the end of a really good book, and you just can’t put it down, pushing everything else to the side to keep reading. Hanging out with them is like that.” Turning back to look at you, he adds, “I never want it to end.”

You hold his gaze while Jenny and Daniel erupt into a series of awes and exclamations. Deep in your gut, you know that you should be focusing on the kind smile on his face or the sudden rapidity in your heartbeat, but instead, more cruelly, you wonder how much of that was a lie he made up to appease the role of your fake boyfriend.

You turn to pour yourself another drink. He holds his cup out as well. You pour for two.

“You okay?” He asks, pouring some fruit punch into both your cups as well.

You nod. You have no reason to be upset. So taking a sip of the drink, you decide you’re not. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“We should play a game,” he says, taking a sniff of your jointly made concoction.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, like…” He looks around the apartment. “We have to drink every time we see someone kissing.”

“What kind of rule is that?”

“No. It’ll be fun.” He says, scanning the apartment again. He sucks in air between his teeth. “Damn, I thought there’d be more kissing than this for some reason.”

You laugh at his cluelessness, and then lean in to kiss his cheek. “There.” You say, clinking your cup against his. “Now, we can drink.”

He taps a finger to the tip of his nose twice, then points it at you, before taking two large gulps of his drink.

The game actually does a good job of getting you and Jeonghan drunk once Jenny catches wind if it and starts giving out birthday kisses to whoever will take one. After a while, you make the executive decision that you need a break and escape to the bathroom to piss. When you exit back into the hallway off the living room, Jeonghan is there, leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you. He hands you your cup back. “Your friends are terrible, terrible enablers,” he says, motioning for you to drink up while taking a drink himself. You whimper, leaning against the wall beside him and readmitting the dreaded liquid to your body.

“So,” you bump your shoulder against his, “are you having fun?”

He shifts his entire body to face you, shoulder resting against the wall, back turned to the entire party. He puts his face right in front of yours, narrows his eyes at you playfully, and says, “did you even listen to what I said?”

You put a hand on his shoulder. Just to have something between his body and yours. “What?”

He grins cheekily, letting out a puff of air that smells like cherry. “I always have fun with you.”

You laugh. Then in a voice sober you would be embarrassed of, you say, “And you never want it to end?”

He sticks his tongue out just barely, laughing into your neck. “And I never want it to end.”

You kiss him.

You don’t stop to think about what it might mean tomorrow or even in the next hour. You don’t stop to think about the fact that you’re too drunk to be initiating kisses or the possibility that he is. You don’t stop to think about anything, other than how much you love the sound of his laugh and how badly you want to feel his lips on yours again.

The kiss starts slowly, a shy orchestration of lips and breath. Your nose bumps against his, and he pulls away. He looks at you with those damn eyes, like it’s the first time all over again. And for some reason you can’t explain you bitterly think that it was always going to end like this.

He cups his free hand against your cheek and pulls you back in. Your lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss that has nothing slow and shy about it. No. It’s sloppy, hurried, and hungry. It’s tongue and teeth, crashing and colliding over and over again. It’s your body against his, every rise of your chest battling against his You wrap your free hand against his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. His hand moves from where it was holding your face to travel over the back of your head and your neck, sliding halfway down your back before pulling forward to run from your waist down to your hip. It lingers there for a moment before continuing further to grip the back of your thigh, pulling your knee up the side of his leg and holding it there against his hip.

A commotion sounds from the living room. “Oh shit.” You say breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I think she’s going to pop the champagne.”

“Okay.” He breathes, before kissing you again. You laugh in his mouth, whispering his name and pushing a hand against his chest. Finally, he lets go of your leg. You lead him back to the rest of the party where everyone is crowding around the balcony entrance. You and Jeonghan stand in the living room, watching from the window as Jenny struggles to pop the cork. She gets it after a moment, yelping at the sudden burst and spraying it over the edge of the balcony. Once the champagne dies down enough to not be overflowing, she brings the bottle to her lips and chugs. Everyone counts.

1! Jeonghan steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and hugging you from the back. You have to remind yourself to catch your breath. 2! He rests his chin on your shoulder. Without even thinking about it, you rest your head against his. His voice is a warm breath on your neck. 3! You recall what he said to your friends at the start of the party and again to you right before the kiss. Did he mean it? Does he really not want this to end? 4! Your eyes glance over at his. He looks happy. He looks like he’s finally given himself the chance to be young and stupid, which from the start, is all you ever wanted for him. So then why does it make you feel so suddenly grief-stricken? 5! “Why didn’t you tell Joshua about us?” You ask him quietly, voice drowned out by the counting for everyone other than him. 6! He angles his chin towards you. “What do you mean? He knows we’re dating.” 7! “No, I mean why didn’t you tell him that it’s fake.” 8! He stands up straight. Fuck the counting. You turn to look at him. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?” 9! He looks at you carefully. “Did you tell Soonyoung that it’s all been fake?” 10! You haven’t even answered him yet, but somehow, he already knows what you’re going to say. 11! “Yes.” And even alcohol couldn’t have hidden the distinct look of betrayal painted all over his face. 12! He looks down into his cup and chuckles darkly. “Why did we just kiss?” 13! You swallow. Shit. “Someone was looking at you, like–well, you know what like.” 14! He doesn’t say anything. You recount his words back to him. “Sealing the deal, remember.” 15! His eyes bore into yours. How could you have been so stupid? “You know, I…” 16! Please, you want to beg, say something. 17! He shakes his head, smiling emptily. “Tell your friends it was nice to meet them.” 18! He doesn’t wait to hear if you have anything left to say. He turns, and you watch him disappear from the party.

The rest of the numbers blur in your head.

—

(That night you had called Soonyoung, sobbing over the phone, feeling more drunk then, in your apartment than you had at any other point that night.

“What’s wrong?” Alarm was flush in his voice. “What happened? Are you okay?”

The only thing Soonyoung could even make out was a very sad, very quiet, “I ruined it.”)

—

You haven’t talked to Jeonghan since Jenny’s party. He hasn’t texted you either. Staring at your upcoming midterm on Thursday and the extra study session with Jeonghan scheduled for Wednesday, you feel, quite lamely, mocked by your own calendar. But more than anything, you’re mad that he’s left you to study all alone the week of your midterm. You’re mad that you’re so busy replaying that night in your head, you can barely pay attention to the practice tests. You’re mad that, right now, sitting at the spot you guys always sat at in the library, you don’t have him. And you’re terrified of the creeping thought that you never really did.

By the time the midterm does come around, you’re exhausted. Not from studying or lack of sleep, but just from the sheer willpower it’s taken all week to not think about Jeonghan. You feel oddly calm going into the exam, the usual anxious chatter of students around you and rattling of chairs and pencils, not freaking you out as much as it normally would. You take the midterm, one question at a time, just as Jeonghan instructed you to do with every homework and every quiz. And then, 40 minutes in, you finish. Astonishingly, you even have enough time left to check over your work. So you do, fixing minor rounding and calculation errors, until you’re faced again with a completed exam and 15 minutes left.

You get to do something you haven’t done since high school: you turn it in early.

—

You spend the rest of that day in between your bed and your couch, struggling even more now than before to ignore thoughts of Jeonghan and your last conversation with him. For the past several weeks, Thursday afternoons were monopolized by Jeonghan, but today, watching the sun set outside your window, you’ve spent it all alone. The finality of what happened last weekend finally hits you: you might never speak to Jeonghan again. You really did ruin it. Suddenly, the urge to weep overcomes you. You turn on the tv instead, looking for a movie to watch. And of course it must be fate's petty joke on you that the first movie that pops up is the one you watched with Jeonghan after your date. You groan into your pillow before switching to something else.

By the time the movie is almost over and the sun has fully set, your phone rings. You had been checking it obsessively earlier and had therefore set it a bit farther away from where you were sitting. But at the sound of the ring, you’re ashamed to admit that you literally leapt for it. Your mind reads the caller id and is instantly flooded with an odd mix of relief and anxiety. Jeonghan is calling. Holy shit, Jeonghan is calling.

Your voice is shaky when you answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, this is Jeonghan’s partner right?” Your mouth parts at the voice that most definitely does not belong to Jeonghan. Who is this man? Why does he have Jeonghan’s phone? Why does it hurt your heart so much when he calls you Jeonghan’s partner? You must sit in your shock for too long because the mystery caller speaks again, sounding somewhat annoyed. “This is Seungcheol from the team. This is who I think it is, right? Because your number was saved as ‘my cutie’ with like a million heart emojis, so if not, this is about to get really awkward.” You have no idea how to respond to that. Finally, Seungcheol says your name. “This is you, right?”

You inhale sharply. “Yeah, uhm, sorry yes. Is everything alright? Aren’t you guys at practice right now?”

“Yeah, well we’re about to end, but here’s the thing…” Seungcheol then explains how terribly Jeonghan’s been playing this week, overly aggressive, missing every pass, fucking up every cross. And today, halfway through practice he hurt his shoulder and the coach sat him out entirely, forcing him to sit on the sidelines and just watch. Safe to say, this did not go over well with him, and he’s been laying down on the bench head buried in his arms, snapping at everyone who approaches him ever since. Seungcheol had to use a fake emergency bathroom break as a chance to run away to the locker room and make this call. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”

Of course you know, and it’s all your fault. You really did ruin everything with one kiss. “I–”

“Fuck, I’m running out of time. Never mind that.” Seungcheol says, cutting you off. “Can you just come down and be here, when we get off practice? Jeonghan drove over so you both can take his car back, but I think he just really needs someone here with him today.”

You wince. “Seungcheol, actually, I–”

“No, no, please. You don’t understand. I think I saw him crying on the bench. He needs you. Come.” Then after a slight hesitation he adds, “If you can. Please.”

You don’t even know what to say, but it doesn’t matter because just then the call ends. You stare at your phone, considering the options. Stay here and wallow. Or go, and try to salvage everything you’ve broken. And while you are a very accomplished wallower, you know which one you have to do. You drag your feet all the way over to your room to change.

You pace outside the field waiting for them, running through every possible scenario in your head. It does nothing, only worsening the condition of your already ailing heart. You drop down onto the curb, holding your head in your hands. Maybe he won’t even see you like this. You can’t tell if you prefer or hate that possibility.

Something bumps into your back. You look up and find Jeonghan staring down at you. You stand up so quickly your head starts to spin. Looking at him, you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other since meeting. You hated every second of it. But you think you might hate the look on his face right now more.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, words devoid of all the little quirks that make him him.

“Seungcheol called me.”

His face twitches. “Why?”

“He said that you–” you halt, selfishly wondering if it’s too late to abandon this ship. “How’s your shoulder?”

He looks at it, rolling it out once. He shrugs. “It’s fine now.”

You nod.

He then surprises you by asking: “How was your midterm?” Your eyes widen, searching his face for… you’re not even sure what. You don’t find it anyways.

You shift your weight uncomfortably. “It went well actually.”

He nods.

“Do you want a ride back?

He scoffs quietly. You flinch. “Can you even drive?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“How would you get back to yours?”

“I don’t know. Walk. Or maybe a bus. Or I could even–”

He doesn’t even let you finish. Voice raising when he asks again, “Why are you here?”

The words come out before you can stop them, tone matching his. “Because I’m sorry!”

“For what?”

“For kissing you!” He drops his duffle bag on the floor. “I don’t know!”

He parts his lips, inhaling as if to speak, but then he looks straight in your eyes and loses every word he might’ve wanted to say. He picks up his duffle and walks over to his car. “Jeonghan, please say something. I miss you, and I hate this. I just want to at least talk about what happened before we never speak again.”

He shoves his bag into the backseat and slams the door shut. He points to the car. “You coming?”

“Where?”

“I’ll drop you home.”

You don’t even know why you let him, but you do, sliding in the passenger seat and waiting until the car is started and moving to say something.

Or at least, that was the plan. But then you lose all the nerves you built up on your walk over and keep quiet the entire drive back to your place. It’s only when he stops in front of yours, ignition shutting off, that they build back enough for you to say, “Jeonghan, I–”

“I’m not mad because of the kiss.” He finally says, voice much softer than before. His eyes stay trained on the dashboard. “The kiss was…” He chokes on the word while the tiniest of smiles breaks like light after a storm on his face. “The kiss was perfect.” Your stomach momentarily turns into a gymnast. “I’m not even mad at all. I’m just,” You lean in after the words, as if waiting to catch them in your hands. He shakes his head once and then turns to look at you fully. “I’m upset because you think this has all been fake when, if I’m being brutally honest, I haven’t been faking anything since that first party.”

Oh.

Oh.

Holy fucking shit.

He chuckles darkly, hitting his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Now, I know what it feels like to be on the opposite end of this.”

You can’t help yourself. “How is it?”

He groans. “It’s like a thousand stomach aches throughout your entire body.”

You want to take him out of his misery, but, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything.”

“I don’t think–”

“No, I’m serious.” He mutters. He looks pained. “Remember when you said that I can’t say no to people? This is it. I’m saying no.” He smiles at you, but you know his eyes too well and you know when there’s nothing in them. His breath catches. “I’m really happy about your midterm. I always knew you didn’t need me.”

He looks away after that, turning the car back on, an obvious signal for you to get out. Selfishly, you don’t. You take two more seconds to stare at his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands. Then you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car.

He doesn’t wait long before he drives away.

You walk back up to your dorm in a stupor of sorts. You unlock the door, step through the kitchen, walk like a zombie to your room, and stare at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes travel over your whole frame, and for some reason they fall to rest at your neck. More specifically, your necklace.

You’re out of the door, running before you even know it. Breathlessly, turning onto the road that leads to the opposite side of campus. 30 minutes away. This of course turns out to be a terrible, terrible idea. You do not run. But you get there eventually. Speed walking up to the door of Jeonghan’s frat house and knocking vigorously.

Soonyoung happens to be the one that opens it. “Oh, hey! How was your–Why can’t you breathe?”

You ignore him. “Is Jeonghan here?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s back from practice yet. Why? What happened? Did you guys make up yet?”

“No, but, Soonyoung, I’ve been so stupid. This whole time I kept gabbing on and on, but I was blind. It was him. It was always–”

You hear a familiar voice say your name. Not just familiar. Your favorite voice. You turn to face him.

And you can’t help it, you grin.

You’re distantly aware of Soonyoung closing the door behind you.

“How did you get here?”

“I ran.” He makes a face. “Well, partly.”

“I told you to–”

“I know what you said.”

“Fine.” He sighs. “I didn’t–well, not like this, but listen. It’s okay if you don’t care–”

“But the thing is Jeonghan,” you say, the sentences and words you had prepared on the way over blurring together all in a rush to get out of your head and into his, “I do. There was no one looking at you at Jenny’s party. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I wanted it. I hate sports. Really, ask Soonyoung, but I went and watched your game and had fun because you asked me to and because I don’t have the capacity to actually say no to your face. I thought I hated that smirk you do, but really I just hate how flustered it makes me feel. And I’m sorry that I took the whole young and stupid thing too close to heart, but,” you pull the matching necklace out from under your shirt. “If I didn’t care, would I still be wearing this? Would I be able to stand here and tell you and I haven’t taken it off since we bought it? And that that date was the best date I’ve ever been on.” You let go of the necklace, inhaling sharply. “I care, Jeonghan.” Then, as if it needs to be clarified, you add, “about you.”

You stare at him, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

He turns around, takes two steps away from you, and then immediately plops his ass on the ground. You hear a whimper. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You approach him slowly, like a cat you’re trying like hell not to scare. You kneel down on the pavement beside him. He wipes his tears. “Don’t laugh.” He cries, already sensing the one bubbling in your throat. You shake your head as a swear not to. Which you break a second after the fact, turning your head to the side, desperately trying to hide it behind your hand. “Bully!” He exclaims.

“No. No.” You say, composing yourself and turning back to him. His tears are wiped, but a pout remains on his face. You cup your hands against his cheeks. “It’s just really cute.”

“It’s embarrassing.” He huffs.

You shake your head. “I love it.” Then you kiss him. It’s a slow and sweet kiss. You relish in it. There’s no rush anymore. No deadline. He isn’t going anywhere. Neither are you. You have all the time in the world with him.

— angel eyes | l.sm

⋆ summary; though seokmin and you are focused on building a good relationship, you both forget an integral part of it. sex. or, in which you both have sex after being together for one year.

⋆ pairings; seokmin x fem! reader ⋆ genre; smut, angst (a teeny bit), fluff, established relationship ⋆ w.c; 3.7k+ ⋆ warnings; soonyoung slander, they're both horny and didn't have sex for no reason, seokmin is a loveable idiot, insecurities, oral (m. & f. receiving), unprotected sex (she's on pills), creampie, he's shy and adorable, mentions of food. ⋆ a/n; ty to the anon that came up with this idea. man, i love writing this guy.

Seokmin takes a deep breath for the nth time and rolls down the windows. He sighs, unbuttoning his shirt a bit to rid the hotness in the car. His hand moves to turn up the air cooler, but he stops halfway, eyes falling on your figure. You’re curled up in the passenger seat, pulling his coat tighter around you. 

A soft smile graces his features as he shifts focus to the road again. The events of the night slip away from his mind easily as you replace them. Seokmin has never felt happier than with you. It’s easier to breathe around you, easy to be himself around you, easy to feel loved and love you back. Everything has been so easy, and he feels content with the relationship. 

In fact, Seokmin even planned on going on one knee just 3 months into the relationship. He couldn’t help it. Everything flew naturally with you. And just like that, certain things didn’t even occur to him. Too focused on being in love, you both completely forgot about an integral part of a relationship. Sex.

The hard thing (no pun intended) is this had only been brought out to the limelight when one of his friends, Soonyoung, joked about it, unknowingly after your first anniversary. “Oh? Have you both even done it?” 

Soonyoung did not expect the absolute silence that followed, which affirmed his statement. The air felt too thick for him, and he could hear his heart thrumming in his ear. The awkwardness quickly dissolved when Mingyu made a mess, and everyone jumped to bully him. Since then, it lingered in his mind like a ghost, and his cheeks burnt up coyly.

He wasn’t embarrassed, per se, but shy. He was never embarrassed about the relationship at any point. Always proud that you both were taking things slow and smooth, earning comments of marriage from others frequently. 

And it's not like Seokmin shied away from the topic of sex either. He is a gentleman, not an idiot. And a bit shy. 

Hence, exactly why he couldn’t bring himself to meet your eyes the rest of the night. Soonyoungs joke shed a different light on you, and he found himself catching the details he usually missed.  Your cleavage that was slightly exposed when you bent forward, the curve of your ass when he placed his hand on your waist, the softness of your hips, and your soft, pretty lips, he found himself thinking about for the rest of the night. 

But you were seemingly unaffected by any of it. You were your usual self, and when he shied away from your eyes, you simply pinched his cheeks and kissed the corner of his lips to silently say, “it’s ok.” 

The kiss lingers on his skin warmly. He lifts his hand to caress your cheeks and smiles when you lean into his touch. But that smile drops when the strap of your dress falls, exposing your cleavage. With your curled-up position facing him, he can see it clearly.

Seokmin shifts his gaze back to the road, sporting a blush and a raging boner.

From then on, he had tried to initiate sex more often. Keyword; tried. 

He stopped by a convenience store to buy some condoms but ended up completely off the track and bought some of his childhood snacks.

“Honey, I’m home!” He announces, making his way to you with a big smile. You greet him back, “Hi baby,”

“You won’t believe what I found!” He exclaims, showing off the goods he bought, and you tilt your head, squinting at the plastic bags of snacks. “My childhood snacks! I actually went to buy-” Oh, right. He went to buy condoms. 

“Mhm, what did you want to buy?” you ask, fully focusing on him with a small smile. 

“I—well, uh.. I forgot.” He stutters under your gaze, and you chuckle, finding him adorable. Pressing a kiss to his lips, you take some of the snacks from his. “Come on, let’s store them.” 

“Huh? Ye—yeah.” 

...

At least he’s trying. 

He even googles up stuff! Countless articles pop up, and Seokmin is surprised to find that multiple people actually resonated with his problem. But it also worries him, and his heart sinks reading said articles — In a sexless relationship? Instant red flag! — Sexual incompatibility and its effects on long-term relationships — 6 ways to find out that your partner hates yo-

He slams the laptop shut and buried his face in his hands. Trying to ignore the lump in his throat, he rubs his face over and over again. Tears prick his waterline, and he can’t bite back the sob that rakes from his chest. What if you do hate him? 

The insecurity gnaws at his heart, and he feels disgusted with himself. Seokmin hugs the pillow for some comfort and falls asleep within minutes. 

God damn Soonyoung.

You groan out loudly, removing your hands from between your thighs and catching your breath. Ever since he brought it up, you found yourself like this often. Naked, horny, and sopping wet. You sigh heavily and turn around your bed, caressing his side of the bed. 

Your boyfriend is fucking hot. He’s the most gorgeous man you know. Call it an exaggeration, but it is true. He’s a piece of art. And you? Well, you’re a woman. 

A woman who has fallen head over heels for him. 

Getting to know him through the first months of your relationship, you came to know about his gentle nature, and as others say, he’s god-sent, something you can’t deny. He’s got it all. Personality, looks, a rare kind of optimism, and certainly a good dick. (yes. You were going through an album he shared with you, consisting of old pictures from college and school, and interestingly enough, there was a mirror selfie of his naked self, sporting a boner.) 

And being honest, Seokmin is quite naïve at times, and any horny feelings were unintentionally locked up in favor of taking things slow. You didn’t want to mess up things, and you see a future with him, leading to subconsciously pushing away intimate moments. 

That is until Soonyoung opened the floodgates.

You groan again. Just because Soonyoungs words elicited a positive response from you doesn’t mean the same for Seokmin. He couldn’t even look at you after that, and with much of your efforts, you brought the relationship back to normal. But things are going south again, with him seemingly avoiding you. It is hard to do so when you are actively living with someone, but he is pent-up at work lately. 

With another curse, you sit up, determined to set things straight, Not by talking, but by some other means. 

He’s always stressed and tense from work, and what better stress-buster there is than sex? Checking the time, you smirk. There’s more than enough time to make extra preparations as well.

...

You’re lying on the bed again with a giddy feeling as you anxiously wait for your boyfriend to return him. You bite your lip, resisting the urge to check yourself in the mirror again. You bathed, sprayed his favorite perfume, and applied a bit of gloss, wanting to keep it natural. You’re wearing sexy white lingerie, not too provocative and not too boring, it was perfect. And since you didn’t want to give your boyfriend a heart attack, you wore one of his t-shirts, covering the lingerie. 

The sound of the front door opening has you sitting up in a frantic and your heart races when you hear his usual “Honey, I’m home!” you take deep breaths to ease your nerves and go outside to greet him. His back is turned to you as he removes his shoes and places them on the rack at the entrance. You hug his back, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his upper back. 

“Missed you,” you pout. You missed him so fucking much. Seokmin was taking mental escapes, and it really hurt to not see his usual happy-go-lucky self. 

He freezes under your touch, and you sigh. He turns in your embrace and smiles sweetly at you, murmuring a soft, “missed you too.” Before slotting his lips on yours. Your hands come up to hold his face and deepen the kiss. He hums against your lips, one of his hands move to your waist and the other to your face. 

He breaks the kiss, but not before another sweet peck. But you pull him in for another by grabbing his tie. He gasps when you bite his lip, giving you the perfect chance to slip in your tongue. He pulls you flush against him, fingers digging into your waist. You caress his hair and wrap your arms around his shoulder. The feeling of his tongue on yours is ecstatic, and you drown yourself in his scent.

You walk backward, slowly leading him to the bedroom. You gasp when he lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his waist, holding onto him. He gasps for breath and walks into the bedroom. Seokmin knows where this is leading, but he hasn’t processed any of what is happening now. 

He’s drunk on your scent, and the way you look at him makes him oblige to you, like a man lured by a siren. You don’t cease your kisses but reduce them to pecks and slowly move from his lips to his neck. He grunts lowly, feeling you sucking and nibbling on his sensitive skin. 

He sets you down on the bed, quickly moving to undo his tie, but you pull him down to the bed and straddle his hips. You bite back a moan, feeling his hard cock graze your thigh and continue your attack on his neck. He tilts his neck, giving you space, and rests his hands on your bare thighs, slowly moving them under the tee to your—oh.

The reality of what is happening dawns upon him as his fingers graze the lazy material of your panties. Seokmin gently pulls you away, gripping your shoulders as he looks at you with a bewildered look. 

“Shit. Do—do you not want this?” he watches your face morph through multiple emotions, and he notices the tears forming. 

“Wait, no. No! that’s not—wait. Please?” You nod, waiting for him. 

But Seokmin cannot form a word for the life of him, and he panics, uttering continuous ‘I’s and ‘uhm’s. He gives up, sighing and catching your eyes on him. Fuck. His cock twitches in his pants, and he can’t help the nasty thoughts that form in his mind. 

“Just,” he breathes in, closing his eyes before finding yours again. “Fuck me, please.”

You close the gap between you two, kissing his lips tenderly. Gently pushing him back, you make him lay on the mattress without breaking the kiss. You sigh against his lips, resting your forehead on his and silently searching for reassurance in his eyes. That reassurance comes with him pushing your hips down to his. 

You sit up, smiling prettily at him before removing his t-shirt. His eyes widen, and his mouth falls agape as he sits up to have a better look. You wore this for him? He rests his hand on your thighs, fixating his eyes on your breasts. You giggle, “you like it?” he nods wordlessly before switching positions. 

Seokmin looks down at your figure, “So pretty.” He whispers before kissing your neck, licking the skin, and nibbling on it. He kisses further and further down till he reaches the valley of your breasts. He looks up at you, catching your eager eyes and shit. The newfound confidence fades away, and his cheeks burn up. 

To add to his shyness, you lift yourself up, undoing the bra and flinging it into some corner. You guide his hands to your breasts, and your nipples harden immediately under his touch. You moan, pushing your chest out, encouraging him to do whatever he fucking wants. 

But you did not expect him to right away wrap his lips on your pebbled nipples as his hand toys with the other. You whimper and moan, turning putty in his hands. His tongue circles around your nipple before he sucks on it. Your panty sticks to your core like a second skin, and you feel more arousal drip through the material. 

He switches to the other one, sucking so diligently on it. Before he could go further below, you stop him. “Wait. I want to see you too.” You whisper breathlessly. 

You help him undress and bite your lips, soaking in his figure. Watching as he slips off his pants, you feel yourself grow hotter. Seokmin looks like what you could only describe as a walking wet dream. Your eyes dart all over his figure. Wide shoulders and strong biceps complemented by a firm chest and a toned abdomen. And, thick thighs complementing his—oh, god. 

Your eyes widen, and your mouth waters as you see the outline of his cock. He’s thick and big. Enough to pleasure you and not enough to hurt. So, in total, it’s perfect. You just want him to bruise your insides and-

Seokmin holds your chin, gently tilting your head up to make you look at him. You look at him through your eyelashes and pout lightly at him while arching your back and closing your arms to push your breasts together.

His cock twitches, leaking pearls of precum that stained his boxers. His chest fills with confidence at the way you are reacting to him. Even he cannot comprehend what he's doing. Your effect on him is that powerful. 

He takes you by surprise and kneels on the floor. It's his turn to look at you through his lashes, big brown eyes staring at you with need. You lick your lips, watching him as he pulls you to the edge and spreads your legs. He kisses your heat through the lacy material and licks at the patch formed by your arousal. His nose presses against your clit, and you gasp, feeling all the bones in your body weaken as he has his way with you. 

Pulling away, he slides his fingers under the hem of your panties and peels it off you, leaving you bare. It joins the pile of clothes, and he dives right in, licking and kissing your folds. “Fuck!” you arch your back and push your cunt onto his face. His nose directly presses against your clit, and you moan as he basically fucking makes out with your cunt. 

You close your legs around his head and tangle your fingers with his locks, pushing him further. He sucks on the little bundle of nerves, then circles his tongue around it with occasional kitten licks. You tug at his hair harshly, and your moans fill the room along with wet sounds as he eats you out. Feeling the orgasm inching closer, you force his mouth off you. 

“Need you,” you whimper, grabbing his face and kissing him. He moans into your mouth as you roughly push your tongue past his lips, tasting yourself on him. His cock twitches with need when you rake your nails down his nape and shoulders. Seokmin grows hotter, thinking about your hands pumping his cock as you suck on his tip. 

You pull away to get down on your knees and hook your finger under the hem of his boxers as he stands up. You pull it down, gawking at his hard, twitching cock, and take him in your hands. His cock rests heavy in your hands, and you couldn’t care less about the cold floor biting your knees. You give the tip an experimental lick, tasting his precum while batting your eyelashes up at him. 

You grin, satisfied when he throws his head back, groaning at a small lick. Without warning, you take half of his length in your mouth, eyes rolling back at the feeling of it resting heavily on your tongue. He tangles his fingers in your hair, looking down at you while he moans a string of curses. Wrapping your fingers around his base, you pump his length and swirl your tongue around his tip. 

You bounce your head up and down his cock, getting used to his girth. You pull away momentarily, and a string of saliva connects your lips to his tip. Licking your lips, you maintain eye contact with him and wrap your lips around his length once again. But this time, you take his full length in your mouth, gagging and enjoying how he fills you up. You hold his thighs for support, sliding his cock out fully before taking him again. 

You do this a couple of times and feel him twitching in your mouth. Seokmin pulls your mouth off his cock, biting his lips in vain to prevent moaning at the erotic sight before him. You know how to put that mouth to use. A few more seconds and he would’ve cummed down your throat. 

With a huff, he pulls you up and backs you to the bed. You lay on the soft sheet, letting him take control. You gasp when he teases his tip on your folds, coating it in your arousal, and he moans, feeling your warmth and wetness. His tip nears your entrance, stretching past your folds, and then—

“Shit. Condoms,” he curses, eyes snapping towards yours in worry. You chuckle, finding your dumbfounded boyfriend adorable. “I’m on pills. Don’t worry.”  

His eyebrows crease, “Since when?”

“Since that dinner. Couldn’t stop thinking about you and your cock.” 

A light blush settles on his cheek, and he smiles at you, shaking his head. He pushes his hair back to calm himself down, and you sigh, finding him hot. There he sits on his knees, between your legs, and a coat of sweat glistens on his skin. He looks ethereal and hot. Yeah, you’d let him rearrange your insides. 

He chuckles, finding your lusty eyes ogling him. “You’re making me shy!” 

And you hook your arms under your knees, pulling your legs to your chest. You bite your lips with a sultry look on your face, and he groans, watching your pussy glisten under the light. He readjusts himself, feeling your folds with his tip again. 

You gasp and moan as his length fills you up, stretching your walls. You haven’t had sex in over a year, and you’re feeling the effects now. Tears well up, and you close your eyes, attempting to adjust to his length. Seokmin leans down, kissing your tears away, and you open your eyes, finding his chocolate eyes staring at you with love and lust.

“Shit. Is it too much? I can pull out, baby.” He softly says, voice laced with concern. You shake your head, whispering a ‘no.’ You lift your head up, slotting your lips against his.

You hook your hands around his nape, deepening the kiss. He holds your waist as you wrap your legs around his hips, holding still till you adjust. Your gummy walls grip his length tightly, making his head spin. After a few moments, you pull away from the kiss, taking a deep breath and nodding at him. 

Seokmin pulls out slowly, leaving only his tip in before slowly sinking back. You both moan in unison when he fills up again. He does this a few times before settling into a comfortable and pleasurable pace. You moan with each snap of his hips towards yours, eyes rolling back in pleasure. His cock kisses your walls in all the right places.

His moans mix with yours in the bedroom, along with the sounds of your hips meeting. Your cunt squeezes his cock, and the wetness allows him to easily slide his cock in and out of you. The feeling of your arousal coating his cock is sinful, and your naked skin on his makes warmth pool in his chest. 

He catches your lips in a sensual kiss, slowing down his pace. His tongue slides against yours easily, wandering your mouth. Your arousal drips down, sticking to his balls with each thrust. You bite his lower lip, making him whine into your mouth, and fasten his pace a bit. You slide your hand between your bodies to stimulate your clit, but he beats you to it.

Long, slender fingers rub at your clit, drawing in your orgasm. You buck your hips up, desperately meeting his cock and fingers. Seokmin moans when you clench his cock, speeding up his climax. You whine, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach, and he feels his cock twitch as well. His pace stutters, turning erratic as he kisses you messily. 

With a moan of his name, you cum on his cock and hold onto him for dear life. He follows suit, hips stuttering to a halt as ribbons of cum paint your walls. He rests his forehead on yours, trying to catch his breath. You sigh in bliss, his warm cum filling you up to the brim. 

He pulls out, falling to your side and instantly pulling you into a cuddle. His cum oozes out, and it should feel dirty, but it doesn’t. Instead, it feels like home, warm and cozy, with his cum filling up your cunt. 

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear, and you giggle, feeling his breath tickle you. You can’t see him, but you feel his smile. “I love you too, baby.” And you giggle again when he kisses your neck, accidentally tickling you again.

His strong hands wrap around you comfortingly. And a serene silence envelops you both. Only for a while, though, “should I order pizzas?” 

You heartily laugh, slapping his chest lightly, and peck his cheeks. He adorably grins at you, pulling you closer. You rest your head on his chest, hugging him with a lazy smile. 

“Was that ok?” he voices out.

“Hmm, the pizza?” 

His chest reverberates as he chuckles, “No—I mean yes. That’s also there but…” 

“Was the … sex good?” he finishes, and you look up, meeting his curious eyes tinged with insecurity. But you smile brightly at him, nodding, “The best I’ve ever had.” His eyes widen before he squints at you playfully. 

“Don’t lie, it was that good?”

“Yep. 10/10. Best cock in the world.”

You both laugh, and he adds, “your...” He coughs, “uhhh...” He gives up, gesturing towards your heat and nodding in acknowledgment. Your body shakes with laughter, and he hides his face shyly. You remove his hands and kiss his face, hugging him closer. Silence settles again, and you feel content in his arms before he speaks again. 

“Also, pizza ok?” 

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @pan-de-seungcheol

(send an ask to be added on the taglist!)

𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

☆ Genre: Angst, fluff (friends to lovers?)

☆ Warnings: Anxiety/panic attacks

☆ Request: No

☆ Characters: Chan, Y/N

☆ Word Count: 2.5k

When a sleepy Chris opened his door to find a shivering and sodden version of his best friend looking up at him with bleak eyes on his doorstep, his heart dropped and sank all the way down to the depths of his slippers.

“Y/N?” Chris’ voice was soft despite the surprise he felt on the inside as he stepped towards her. His brows furrowed with worry, Chris extended his arms and gently reached for Y/N's hands. “Come inside … honestly, Y/N, you're soaked. What were you thinking? You could have texted me … you know I'd have picked you up … ”

Y/N's eyes stung with the telltale prickle of unshed tears at the sound of the man's authoritative yet gentle voice as he pulled her inside.

“What happened?” Chris murmured, one of his hands travelling to the side of her damp face, his fingers caressing her head. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Because honestly, if anyone's hurt you I'll - ”

Y/N clenched her eyes shut, her mind travelling back to the previous hour that had caused her to break.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Y/N flinched, her entire body jerking at the clatter of something dropping onto the table beside her. She swallowed thickly, closing her body in on herself further and further as if to deflect the prickles of overstimulation that was floating towards her. Every tiny sound from the people beside her had begun to irritate her; she felt jittery and incredibly restless as the infuriating clock on the wall ticked loudly, the strokes turning into long minutes.

The room was suddenly too small, too enclosed, and too hot. The walls closed in on her and the voices of the people around her grated on her mind, their shrieks of laughter uncomfortable as they drilled into her bones. She wanted to get out of here, away from the people who cared for nothing other than controlling her. Away from the people who she had come to realise from early on that she had nothing in common with.

Their voices became louder as Y/N's words retreated further into her body, seeking refuge from the tumultuous atmosphere buzzing around her. She curled her fingers into each other, gripping onto them tightly until the whites of her bones could be visible beneath her thin stretch of skin. She could feel that she was burning up; her skin blazed with prickly heat, and the thud of her rapid heartbeat echoed in her ears as her leg began to discreetly bounce up and down. Nausea permeated her insides, her head spinning and her chest tightening substantially. Pain and discomfort flooded through Y/N's body, and she shut her eyes briefly as she silently willed herself to calm down.

She couldn't stay here any longer. She hated these people. She wanted to be alone. She wanted -

“Y/N? Where are you going?”

She ignored the vague, disinterested question swimming in her direction as she slipped off of the sofa. As expected, the people inside the room went back to their conversation a mere second later, barely paying attention to Y/N as she stumbled out of the room just as tears pooled at the bottom of her eyes for the third time that evening.

Gulping heavily, Y/N was relieved when the night air filled her lungs with a momentary sense of calm. She was so focused on trying to diminish the anxiety inside of her that she barely noticed the weather; her clothes were soaked in an instant, heavy sheets of rain spilling over her trembling frame and plastering her hair to the sides of her face. Her fingers were cold when she brushed them over her eyes, smoothing away the mingled tears and raindrops nestled in her eyelashes. She then began to make her way down the street, shattered sobs escaping her slowly the further she got away from her neighbourhood, away from the last place she wanted to spend another night in.

“I'm so tired,” Y/N whispered to Chris. She looked up at him with sore eyes; in the dim lighting of the hallway that they were standing in, Chris’ eyes were the colour of rich cacao, and the very depths of them twinkled with familiar golden pinpricks as he searched her face. Even just taking in the sight of him was beginning to ease her mind … his lightly freckled skin, the unruly coils of hair that spilled over his forehead and temples like ocean waves, the velvety black t-shirt that hugged his muscular build; there was an ever present softness to Chris, and it radiated off of him in the form of heat and spicy vanilla as his thumb stroked over her cheekbone.

“Let's get you into some dry clothes, hmm?” Chris hummed. He waited for Y/N to nod against his hand before his touch trailed down her arm and to her fingers. Folding his grip around hers, Chris led her through the hallway.

Having no energy to do anything other than listen to the simple instructions Chris was giving her as he laid out a fresh set of clothes on his bed, Y/N soon found herself under his shower. Hot water flooded down her frozen skin, the contrast in temperature making her hiss under her breath at the initial burning sensation over her body. She leaned her forehead against the steamed walls of the shower, her eyes falling shut for a long moment. It took her all the energy she had left to reach to the side for the bottle of her friend's body wash, and an even longer time to smooth the suds over her aching limbs.

By the time she had draped Chris’ clothes onto her frame and stumbled into his living room, Chris had managed to laden the small coffee table with a surprisingly large array of comforting snacks. Beside it all sat two mugs of something hot and fragrant, wisps of steam rising from the porcelain and dissipating in the warm air.

“Ah, you're here,” Chris said cheerfully. He blinked, his gaze briefly scanning Y/N from head to toe. “I like your clothes.”

“Don't be mean,” Y/N huffed as she trudged towards the sofa. Chris moved towards the seat beside her at the same time, and she looked up at him with round eyes when he reached out to place his hands at the side of her face.

“I'm not,” Chris said softly. “You look adorable.”

At that, Y/N felt her eyes brim with tears. She looked down at the floor in an attempt to hide her expression, but Chris’ index finger found its way to the underside of her chin, and he gently lifted her face up towards him.

“I'm not lying to you.”

The downturned slopes of his eyes gave him such an innocent air in that moment that Y/N found all of her cloudy thoughts dissipating from her mind before she had the chance to grasp onto them. She blinked up at him, and she watched as he dropped his hand slowly before sitting down on his sofa.

He patted the free seat beside him with placid fingers. “Sit down?”

Y/N did as he said. His sofa was as comfortable as it always was; not too hard, and not too soft, it seemed to tuck itself around her in a welcoming manner, cushioning all of her aches and pains in a way that made her exhale minutely under her breath.

She was unsure as to whether it was actually the sofa that appeared so comforting to her, or if it was the presence of the calming man beside her.

“Are you okay?” Chris asked suddenly in a tender tone.

Y/N looked up at him. “I'm fine. Why?”

His brows furrowed slightly as he cocked his head to the side. “It's just … you look like you're in pain.”

She looked away for a moment. Now that she was paying attention to herself … her head was pounding.

“I'm fine,” She repeated in a wavering breath. And then, ”Head hurts a little bit.”

Chris smiled softly. He then extended one of his arms and gently cupped his hand around Y/N's shoulder.

Y/N let him ease her into him. His hand travelled from her shoulder to the side of her head, his fingers like a cradle as he guided her down to the side of his chest. Y/N shifted a little; she curled her legs up on the sofa and twisted her body slightly so she wasn't in an awkward position, though she kept her hands bundled stiffly in her lap as Chris started to thread his fingers through her vaguely damp hair.

“It was probably all that rain,” Chris’ voice vibrated through his chest; it was a low sound, one that made Y/N automatically lose a miniscule amount of rigidity from her shoulders. “It's gone to your head.”

He stopped running his fingers through her hair after a few moments. Instead, he used his hand to repeatedly cup Y/N's head with light pressure in multiple different areas in the form of a soft massage.

“Maybe,” Y/N whispered against his t-shirt.

“Definitely,” Chris hummed as he used his hand to send waves of comfort through Y/N's scalp. “Hope you don't catch a cold.”

Y/N didn't reply. Now that the overwhelming sense of anxiety and nausea had finished weaving its way through her body, Y/N was beginning to feel a little drowsy. Or maybe it was due to the way Chris’ touch was lingering on her skin the way it always did, in the form of light, healing kisses.

“What happened back there?” He asked in a delicate tone a moment later.

His words pulled Y/N out of her mild daydream. The girl shrugged against him, her eyes dropping as she stared at the steaming mugs in front of her.

“Same old,” she whispered, curling her knees further in on herself. “I hate being around everyone. Wanted to be on my own.”

At that, Chris started to chuckle. His fingers slipped through her hair as he shifted a little closer to her. “You wanted to be on your own so you came to me?”

Y/N flushed. She didn't want to tell him that she felt safer with him than she did on her own. That he calmed her down in a way nothing - or no one - else could.

“Yeah,” she said instead.

Her simple reply made the man's body shake with silent laughter against hers. A second later he moved again; this time he slid his arms around Y/N's body in a hug, and Y/N's eyes widened when she felt her cheek land against his chest.

“Just relax,” Chris crooned, his hand gentle in patting her back. “You feel like a statue.”

“I can't help it … “ Y/N whispered. Though in the next few seconds her body melted drastically against Chris’, and Chris smiled against the top of her head. “I'm sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Chris frowned, peering down at her.

Y/N swallowed slowly. The warmth from his body was calming her so much that she felt her eyes sting with the familiar sign of tears once again.

“For disturbing you … “ she sniffed, blinking hard. “For always bothering you when you're busy.”

At that, Chris furrowed his brows. “Hey, look at me.”

Y/N shook her head against his chest, her eyes burning.

“Look at me,” Chris repeated gently, his hand soft as it rubbed circles over her back. “Y/N.”

Gulping, Y/N slowly raised her head until she was met with the heartwrenching tenderness of Chris’ gaze.

“You never bother me,” Chris murmured, his fingers going to delicately trace the side of Y/N's face as he searched her eyes in earnest. “Ever. You know I'm always going to be here for you, yeah? No matter what, I'm always here for you. Always.”

His words were as soothing as they were powerful; Y/N's face crumpled for the umpteenth time, and she dropped her head just as Chris tucked his arms around her.

She didn't have the time to object before she found herself planted on the man's lap, her cheek pressed once more to his chest. Her eyes widened mid-sob, and her breath hitched when she felt Chris pull her even closer to him.

It only made her cry harder.

“It's okay baby,” Chris murmured, hand running down her back as Y/N's body shook in his hands. “I've got you now, yeah? You're safe with me.”

He let her cry for as long as she needed to. Y/N's fingers were tentative at the sides of Chris’ waste, and his chest was soon hot from the tear soaked material of his t-shirt sticking to his skin. But he didn't mind. He couldn't focus on anything other than the evident misery that was flowing off of Y/N's body like smoke, and he wished with all of his might that he could put an end to it.

“I love you,” he blurted out against the top of Y/N's head. Whether he had meant to declare his feelings in such a manner or not, Chris’ eyes widened all the same just as Y/N slowly looked up at him with a matching expression.

He had never said that to her before.

“What did you say?” Y/N asked him quietly, her crying coming to a halt.

Chris blinked at her, suddenly very embarrassed. His entire face slowly dropped from the colour of milk to the colour of pulverised cherries, and Y/N watched in fascination as he covered his burning face with his fingers.

“I love you,” Chris repeated, though his voice was muffled against his hands. “I love you, I like you, and I'm in love with you.”

It was Y/N's turn to take on a reddish hue. She sat in the man's lap, staring at him with surprise just as he dropped his hands again and started to chuckle.

“You didn't know … ?” Chris asked in wonder.

Y/N shook her head. “No … ?”

“Y/N … “ Laughing with embarrassment, Chris pulled Y/N into him again and he hid his face by hiding it in her hair. “I was being so obvious.”

“No you weren't,” Y/N squeaked, though she unclenched her hands and slowly slid her arms around the man's waist. “Iloveyoutoo.”

“Huh?” Chris chuckled, squeezing her tightly. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Y/N grumbled.

“Tell me,” Chris grinned, and he cupped his hands around her face until she was looking into his eyes again. “What did you say, baby?”

The name was making her skin heat up. She cleared her throat, though she couldn't keep the smile from spreading across her face. “I … love you too.”

Y/N immediately buried her face into Chris’ chest, unable to look into his adoring face any longer. She smiled secretly when he scooped her up even more into his arms, his hug engulfing every part of her in his delicious heat.

“You're so cute,” Chris hummed as he nuzzled his cheek against her head. “I'm glad you're not crying anymore. It makes me sad when you cry.”

“Maybe you should tell me you love me more often then,” Y/N mumbled.

It made Chris chuckle. He pulled away slightly once more, and he leaned his forehead against hers before dropping a soft kiss to the tip of her red nose.

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