Taeeflwrr - Tae + Jimin Enthusiast - Tumblr Blog

classic e2l what's not to love

i suddenly realize my archnemesis is hot (during a battle to the death).

pairing: son of ares!jeno x daughter of nike!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, there is no logic in this ok i am so tired

word count: 22.5k

author’s note: after more than a year, demigods is finally complete!! this series has received so much love, and i can’t even put into words how grateful i am for all the support! thank you all so much for sticking with me for so long and i hope that this fic is a satisfying ending to this series 💖 read the completed 00 line x camp half-blood here!

warning(s): there is significantly more violence in this than the other fics in this series so please read at your own discretion!

tag list: @junglewoos @forever-skz @treblesomeharmonies @inscentedreamer @notaroyal @jaehyunsjasmine @jishyucks @chuus-slug @kravitee @peachyyjaes @lenaluvs @struggle-kmpr @haikchoo-main @euphorin @ukiyoneo @strwbrryhoney @jeo-n @jinnieyeolele @keemburley @sunshine-skz @mcu-incorrect @thejeongjaehyun​ @jenosuh​

additional: once again, special thanks to cat and moon for not only letting me put them in this fic but also giving me ideas for some wild shenanigans 😌 and another shoutout to cat for coming up with that zinger of a final line <3

“Give it up. You know I’ve won.”

The sun blazes against your back as you grip the hilt of your sword tightly, lowering your stance so you can prepare to charge forward. A bead of sweat falls from your forehead and into your eye, stinging, but it’s a feeling that you’re quite accustomed to. You see the out-of-bounds line in your peripheral, and you know this is your last shot.

Lee Jeno, son of Ares and your eternal archnemesis, is standing in front of you. His black hair is mussed and sweaty, bangs slightly stuck to his forehead. He’s wearing leather armor over his orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt that is covered with dirt smudges. His jeans are in an even sorrier state, spattered with grass stains and even more dirt. He has one hand on his hip and the other is loosely holding his sword. His demeanor is much more relaxed, clearly indicating that he thinks he’s beaten you.

Even though his dirty clothes prove just how hard he had to struggle to get to this point.

The two of you are participating in your weekly spar in the Sword Fighting Arena, which is basically a large mound of dirt and grass with white lines painted over it. As children of Nike and Ares respectively, you and Jeno spend almost all of your time here. If the two of you had it your way, you would be fighting each other every day. Unfortunately, Mr. D and Chiron, the heads of the camp, banned you two from sparring more than once a week out of fear that you might really kill each other. Whenever it’s time for Capture the Flag every Friday, though Mr. D and Chiron have suspended all games indefinitely due to a Minotaur attack that happened a couple weeks ago, you normally aren’t allowed within ten feet of each other because you two take it way too seriously.

While it is a bit extreme, even you have to admit that it is for the better.

You and Jeno have butted heads ever since you met at Camp Half-Blood at the age of twelve, and that rivalry has continued into your twenties. You both naturally have competitive streaks due to your parentage, which means you are constantly fighting for the number one spot at…well, everything. It’s extremely frustrating because you two are always tied at everything as well. He wins some, you win some, but neither of you can ever seem to pull ahead for long.

And that’s why you absolutely cannot lose this spar. Because it means that you’ll be tied again.

“Come on, Y/N. I know you’re gonna try to tackle me as a last ditch effort. It’s written all over your face,” Jeno sighs, placing the flat part of his sword on his shoulder, as if it were a backscratcher.

Oh yeah, and this whole rivalry is exacerbated by the fact that Jeno is an arrogant and insufferable asshole that thinks he’s way cooler than he is.

“Just because you know what’s going to happen doesn’t mean you’ll be able to stop it,” you reply breezily, tossing your sword aside and lunging towards him. Children of Nike are exceptionally fast, so Jeno doesn’t even have a chance to dodge.

You wrap your arms around his legs, and though he manages to keep his balance briefly, you put pressure on the back of his knees, and he eventually buckles. The two of you hit the ground hard, causing a big plume of dirt to rise.

Keep reading

adorable

summary : college was enough to deal with, barely passing classes and struggling to keep up with what was going on in each was a daily struggle. not having time to catch someone’s eye was fine with you, that was until you met him. there was something about him that was enchanting, so you went out to find him, hoping you kept him up the same way he did you.

college kids : nct dream members, my friends are the inspiration for the female profiles (joy, loki, niwa and esa) andb random supporting cast

started : 07 | 16 | 23 finished : 10 | 10 | 23

warnings : mostly posted by chapter, language, mentions of alcohol, college au, fluff, angst, strangers to lovers, lying, anything else will be added accordingly <3 (if you can’t tell it’s tswift based bc i’m obsessed w the song)

taglist : please send in an ask or comment to be added

🎧 : part of the speak now (polaroid version) playlist

00 : [ bitches love the gram ] : [ soon 2 be college drop outs ]

01 : don’t act like you don’t like it

02 : double whammy

03 : you’re bitchless bro

04 : …not that ham

05 : determined to do so (1.4k)

06 : short kings need love too

07 : da new da vinci

08 : what the fuck is 922?

09 : mom and mom are fighting

10 : INFILTRATE THE LUNCH

11 : who’s haechan?

12 : i don’t trust men

13 : no offense taken

14 : you need more sleep then

15 : well that hurted

16 : he’s easy to please

17 : lil man complex

18 : i breathe and for what

19 : is he gone yet?

20 : deserve to be heard (2.2k)

21 : she’s safe

22 : where is haechan.

23 : one last time (0.7k)

24 : platonic soulmates

25 : it’s not me this time

26 : only love can hurt like this

27 : tswift era

28 : so i may be lost

29 : sad and sulky

30 : run to me instead

31 : a couple of besties

32 : regular huh

33 : officially official

34 : it’d always be her [ final ]

cute

one, two, three | l.dh

genre ❥ highschool au, best friends to lovers, rom-com

pairings ❥ nerd! donghyuck x cheerleader! reader

word count ❥19.0k (my longest fic ever can you believe it)

synopsis ❥ In which you devise three different ways to get your best friend to fall in love with you, but things never really go quite as planned.

warnings ❥ none! it’s tooth-rotting fluff. the both of them might be a bit frustrating at times but this might be my favourite haechan out of all my fics so far :)

info ❥ please let me know what you think about the individual scenes. also i let myself go a little crazy over the entire running theme of literature and little women in this one

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that any unattached high schooler in possession of decent grades, must be in want of a relationship.”

The way Karina says it confidently amuses and impresses you in equal measure, but Ningning only scoffs. “That is most definitely not what Austen wrote. Don’t let Mrs Kim hear that.”

Mrs Kim is the literature teacher for your entire level, a kindly woman in her fifties who’s lenient with assignments. You think she’s much too passionate about classics to be stuck teaching a few hundred teenagers who can barely comprehend the intricacies of classical writing, but life has a funny way of putting people in places they’re not meant to be.

Besides you, of course. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be. The first table from the left of the canteen, nearest to the food line, and directly under the air-conditioning. It’s also exclusively reserved for the cheer team, while the opposite is for the rugby team.

You never thought you would subscribe to something as ridiculous as a canteen seating hierarchy, but you’ll gladly reap the benefits.

One thing that might be nice, however, is if the meal options were improved. You’re not sure how well pasta salad and a carton of lukewarm milk is supposed to sustain you the entire day, but it’ll have to do for now.

Maybe you’ll drag Donghyuck for a ramen run later. Speaking of which.

“Have any of you seen Donghyuck?” you ask, and there’s a chorus of shaking heads from the rest of the team, before Ningning pouts, looking at you. “Him again? You’re always asking about Donghyuck,” she teases, and you roll your eyes. “That’s because I can never find him,” you mutter, before putting down your cutlery. There’s no longer much of an appetite, especially when you have more important things to do.

When you stand up, Karina raises an eyebrow, and you grin. “I’ll be right back.”

The din from the canteen becomes softer once the glass doors close behind you. Your sneakers are squeaking against the shiny floor, noticeably conspicuous due to the silence. There’s only one place even quieter than the hallways during lunch break, and it’s like there’s a direct path guiding you to Donghyuck.

When you spot a familiar bag resting on the floor, you smile. “Bingo.”

It takes less than ten seconds for you to reach Donghyuck’s desk, and another five for him to realise you’re standing there, hands resting on your hips. He blinks, before setting the book in his hands down gently. “Oh, hey. Take a seat,” he says, gesturing to the empty space opposite.

The boy’s dressed in his usual black hoodie and ripped jeans, white reading glasses resting gently on his nose. He had picked them out a few years ago in a shop, after you had finally convinced him to do something about his color vision. The glasses suit him more than you expect, and it’s refreshing seeing them compared to his usual preference of contact lenses.

You slide into the booth opposite until you’re facing him, chin in hand. “You’re reading on lunch break?”

He sets down the book the moment you sit down, pushing away his things to make space for your elbows.

Donghyuck’s the epitome of a model student to you, considering his stellar grades and position as president of student council. It’s not in a way that’s overbearing, but rather plain and simple - the boy is just more intelligent and capable than the majority of people in his age group.

Still, reading on lunch break seems like a bit of an anomaly, considering he likes food as much as you do.

“I’ve got a council meeting after school, but I need to finish this reading for English. Which is why I’m slaving away,” he sighs out, and you look away, humming in thought. “Need me to get you food? I was going to ask you out for a ramen run, but I guess you can’t do that now.”

He shakes his head. “Nope, I’m good,” he assures, and you arch an eyebrow.

“You sure?” You’re looking at him intently now, voice distrusting. Donghyuck looks as if he’s hesitating.

“Gimbap…would be nice,” he admits, and you smile triumphantly. “Got it.” There’s a perk in your step as you rise from the table and tell him you’ll be right back.

By the time you buy it and deliver it to him, the bell rings, and you’re left saying a quick goodbye before Donghyuck rushes off. It’s harder seeing him when he gets busy, but you chalk it down to the fact that during slower months, an inordinate amount of your time is spent with Donghyuck.

And when you finally finish cheer practice in the evening, you notice a plastic bag resting next to your backpack. Opening it makes you grin slightly, immediately seeing one pack of your favourite ramen and a marinated egg, along with iced coffee.

“Who’s that from?” Karina asks, and you grin slightly.

“Donghyuck.”

You can’t hide the smile on your face when you say it.

The first time Donghyuck got a job, he couldn’t shut up about it.

It’s funny the more he thinks about it, considering it wasn’t even really an actual one - his mother had offered two dollars an hour for him to make sure the dog didn’t trample on her precious flowers.

But for twelve-year-old him, it seemed like the most daunting, impressive task he had been given, one that he was determined to embark on with fervour.

It took less than four days before he realised how aimless it was, and spent more time sitting on the porch with his Switch when his mother wasn’t looking.

But Donghyuck supposes he doesn’t particularly regret taking on the below-minimum-wage job, not when it allowed him to meet you.

“Is this your dog?”

Donghyuck checks twice to make sure his game progress is saved before looking up, only to be greeted by the sight of a girl no older than he is, hair tied in a neat ponytail and a white sundress reaching down to your knees. “Um, yeah,” he mutters, voice not unfriendly but awkward in the way that most boys his age are.

He may be extroverted, but Donghyuck quite literally has no idea who you are, considering he’s never seen you in school. Besides, the only person he’s interacted with all this summer is Jaemin, who occasionally invites him over to play Super Smash Bros. “What’s her name?”

“Bambi.”

You wrinkle your nose at his reply. “Why would you name your dog after another animal?”

His posture straightens imperceptibly, somehow feeling the need to defend himself against your judgement.

“Why not?” He challenges, watching as you hesitate slightly, before seeming to acquiesce, giving Bambi a few affectionate pats on the head. At your silence, Donghyuck sets his gaming console down, elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward.

“What’s your name then?”

You look at him, as if almost surprised at the boy’s curiosity. “Y/N. L/N Y/N. I just moved into the house next to yours,” you reply, Bambi now sitting obediently next to your shoes.

Donghyuck’s not sure whether to be disappointed that your name isn’t weird, but instead very pretty. The syllables are unfamiliar, but they roll off his tongue nicely.

He’s not sure if you’re as fascinated by his name as he is yours - Donghyuck isn’t a particularly unique name, but he can’t stop himself from practising calling yours, until even his mother notices it at dinner.

That summer, you spent a lot of time with Donghyuck - the heatwaves kept most people inside and there weren’t many places a twelve-year-old could go on their own. You quickly got used to stuffy afternoons spent in his living room playing card games, or having Donghyuck attempt baking cookies with you in the kitchen.

And when the holiday ended, heralded by the beginning of autumn, you found yourself still sticking to Donghyuck, even as the both of you navigated a new school year and branched out into different friend groups.

Six years later, the both of you were still side-by-side, even as other classmates came and went and your sixth-grade school uniforms gave way to a lax high school dress code.

On the brighter side, Donghyuck’s area of employment has improved - he’s now making much more than minimum wage helping to transcribe songs for a local indie label, and it’s a job that he enjoys plenty, considering how he’s allowed to take home a few extra albums each month that don’t sell.

It also helps that the employee benefits are good, and the manager, Johnny, is pretty chill with whatever Donghyuck does as long as it’s not a direct violation of company policy. He suspects it’s because the man grew up in Chicago, and is long used to troublemakers. Here, Donghyuck’s job is simple - to help make good music, and he’s fulfilling it to the best of his ability.

You find Donghyuck in his usual position at the counter, headphones over his head and an unplaceable tune escaping from his pursed lips. His fingers are drumming to an invisible rhythm that you can’t hear, but you watch him with a fond smile on your face anyways.

He’s only played snippets of his own work here and there for you, but the boy’s talent is undeniable. Still, Donghyuck only casts you an indulgent look of appreciation each time you tell him he’s just as capable of starting a career as the artists he’s helping.

You don’t tell him that you secretly think he’s even better and would buy his records over anyone’s any day.

When you tap his shoulder, Donghyuck spins around in his chair, hand placed over his heart for theatrical effect. “You scared me,” he says, and you only grin. “Came to drop off the stuff you needed.”

He takes the bag from you, peering inside before looking back up and smiling gratefully. “You’re an actual lifesaver,” he gushes as he takes out the extra discs and a badly-needed charger, along with a change of clothes.

“I know,” you reply smugly, and Donghyuck rolls his eyes. He’s already used to the back-and-forth bickering between the both of you, but he’s thankful nonetheless, knowing that you must have dropped whatever task you were busy with to rush down to the store.

Until your phone buzzes, and you pick it up with a concerned glance, wincing apologetically as you gather your things. “Sorry. Karina called an emergency meeting. I’ll see you after work?”

Donghyuck nods, watching as you shove your phone into your tote bag. Right as you turn to leave, however, he places a hand on your elbow, halting your steps.

It’s only then that he notices the claw clip in your hair, a transparent one with little flowers dotted throughout. He doesn’t usually see you with your bangs pushed back, not since middle school, when your mom forced you to get that one bad haircut.

But it looks much better now, and Donghyuck finds his throat turning dry at the sight of you, before he remembers what he had planned to do.

Being the naturally affectionate person he is, Donghyuck has placed soft pecks on your cheek before, often followed up by you quickly shoving him away. But he hasn’t done it for almost a year, for the sole reason that if he allows himself to kiss you on the cheek, he might just want more.

He’s not sure what it means, the way his heart strangely twists each time he looks at you, in a way that’s both pleasurable and painful. It started when you had ditched practice to accompany him on the school rooftop, just to listen to him complain about the new student council treasurer.

The way you had thrown your head back and laughed at his never-ending rant, elbows linked with him as you swung your feet over the edge, taking a sip of the strawberry yoghurt drink shared between the both of you.

Donghyuck doesn’t even remember what he was angry at Jisung for, only that you looked extra pretty that day.

And it’s moments like this where he wants to kiss you even more, and he can’t be bothered to try and hold himself back any longer.

To his surprise, however, you don’t react with your usual expression of disgust, instead remaining silent, your wide-eyed expression searing itself into his mind. It fills him with a quiet, brimming sort of anticipation, and he swears your gaze darts to his lips, just briefly. Maybe if his kiss just shifts a few inches over-

Donghyuck’s train of thought is interrupted by the sound of the door opening, signalling a customer. You quickly pull back, and he tries not to make his irritation at the disturbance too obvious.

“I should go,” you say to no one in particular, before grabbing your tote bag and rushing through the glass doors of the store, the bell signalling your departure. He finds himself smiling at your frazzled state, and wondering if it means something. If it means that he might have a chance, no matter how minuscule.

He doesn’t even realise the corners of his lips are tilted up, until Johnny comes out from the storeroom, the new equipment balanced in his arms.

“Did something good happen? You look pleased,” the taller man comments, looking over at Donghyuck who runs his thumb over the tote bag you left for him.

The younger boy only grins in response, a sort of plaintive expression on his face as he casts a longing glance at the door where you had just been moments ago.

“Yeah. I guess you can say that.”

The realisation hits you at nine on a Friday evening, and it’s surprisingly easy to swallow. You’re going to fail math.

You shove the textbooks in the corner of your shelf, vowing to never pick them up again. However, the exam date that sits on your calendar circled in red serves as a reminder that you’ll likely have to take your words back soon, if not immediately.

When the doorbell rings, it’s the perfect distraction for you.

Spending time with Donghyuck at the end of each week has quickly become a welcome respite from the monotony of school, and you’re buzzing with excitement as you rush down the stairs.

“I’m not sure why you still ring the doorbell, considering you just come in by yourself,” you say, as you pour the popcorn out into a bowl and hand it to him. Donghyuck shrugs. “Courtesy. Just in case you need time to hide a dead body or something. What movie are we watching today?”

A grin makes its way onto your face at the question, and Donghyuck’s eyes flood with suspicion before he lets out a groan of exasperation. “Do you not get tired of watching it?”

You shake your head, smiling. It’s the sixth time you’ve made him watch Little Women, and despite the fact that Donghyuck doesn’t take literature, you think he might be starting to grow partial to the movie.

It’s coming close to midnight by the time the end credits roll, and your bowl of popcorn lies empty on the table.

“I still think Jo and Laurie are meant to be, by the way,” he points out, and you whip your head towards him indignantly from where you’re seated on the couch, legs thrown over his lap. “You’re wrong,” you retort. Despite the late hour, both of you are surprisingly alert. You from the two coffees, and Donghyuck because- well, he pretty much survives on three hours a day.

“But he’s just settling for Amy.”

“Amy makes Laurie a better person, that’s why they’re together. Jo and Laurie would never work out. They’re meant to be best friends, not lovers,” you explain, watching as Donghyuck’s expression shifts to something unreadable.

“But there’s so much passion between the both of them. Don’t you-” he mutters, before leaning over, “-want something like that?”

His question weighs heavy on your mind as he moves closer, until the both of you are a hair’s breadth away from each other.

The sudden loss of distance between you and Donghyuck makes your breath hitch, the air charged with an unfamiliar tension, one that leaves your heart racing. You have no idea what it is, other than the fact that Donghyuck is much too close for comfort. He looks almost disappointed when you stand up abruptly, narrowly avoiding spilling the drink in your hand.

“I- I’m going to get more snacks,” you stutter out, barely gathering your composure before you rush off to the kitchen. When you’re inside, however, you quickly place your hands over your cheeks, eyes widening in alarm when you realise they’re warm.

You’re blushing. For some god-awful reason, being with Donghyuck has made your heart rate speed up and your face flush, which can only mean one thing.

You’ve fallen sick.

There’s only another possible alternative, and you really don’t want to consider the implications of that.

“Y/N.”

At the sound of your name, you turn around, the perfect image of a deer caught in headlights. It’s only then that you notice Donghyuck’s dressed in a loose band tee and sweatpants.

It’s an outfit that you’ve seen him wear a thousand times, and yet, you can feel a nervous lump form in your throat at the sight of him.

“You were taking really long in the kitchen. Is something wrong?” he asks, eyes curious as he looks at you.

Your mouth feels like it’s full of sand as you struggle to find the words to explain. “I- I think I’m sick.”

At that statement, concern becomes apparent on Donghyuck’s face as he strides over to you, placing a hand gently on your forehead to track your temperature. The sensation of his palm against your forehead floods you with regret, however, for the sole reason that you feel like you’re about to go into cardiac arrest.

“Your temperature feels fine. Do you feel unwell anywhere?” he questions insistently, but you’re too dazed as you continue to lean against the kitchen island, the marble cold against your back.

You need to get out of this situation. Immediately. You duck abruptly, Donghyuck’s palm falling from your forehead to his side.

“I just remembered I have an assignment I need to rush,” you hastily blurt, and he makes a confused face at your change of topic, before shrugging. “I can help you,” he suggests, and you shake your head aggressively at that.

“It’s okay. I’m really good at math.”

You’re lying. It’s a blatant lie, and from the way that Donghyuck stares at you, you know he knows that it’s absolute nonsense. But he seems to relent, perhaps due to your frazzled appearance.

“Okay. Take some Panadol or something if you’re not feeling well. I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Yeah. See you,” you breathe out, watching as he turns away and exits the kitchen.

The front door clicks shut reassuringly a few moments later, and you let yourself sink to the floor in relief.

Donghyuck doesn’t message you for the rest of the night, something that you’re grateful for. Despite his physical absence, however, the boy resolutely refuses to leave your mind, even as you force yourself to clean up the coffee table and return the snacks to their designated places on the pantry shelf.

It’s only when you’re standing over the sink, red popcorn bowl between your two hands, that your cheeks darken again at the thought of him moving closer to you, eyes searching yours in the darkness of the room.

The both of you have had hundreds of movie nights at this point, the catalogue almost emptied and favourite movies repeated over and over again. Like how the both of you always force each other to watch The Conjuring on Halloween, Donghyuck still screaming at each jumpscare despite how he knows what's coming. The end of the midterms means watching The Kissing Booth, even if you poke fun at him for it.

You don’t mind repeating them over and over again, because it’s Donghyuck. Even sitting with him in complete, utter silence would be enjoyable.

The glow coming from the living room catches your attention then, and you trudge towards the couch to grab the remote before realising that you and Donghyuck never finished the movie before you freaked out and he left.

In a split-second decision, you decide to press play, the house dead silent save for the dialogue between both characters. You only realise seconds later that it’s the scene on the hill, the one where Laurie confesses to Jo.

You’re unable to tear your eyes away from the screen, the scene suddenly feeling a little too real, meaning something more than the previous times that you’ve watched it. Destined to be friends, never lovers. That was exactly what you told Donghyuck.

But you’re starting to think that you might be dead wrong.

You’re quickly learning that while Karina and Ningning may be encouraging during practice, they’re not as supportive when it comes to your personal life. The latter is staring at you with an expression of disbelief on her face, while Karina simply lets out a tired sigh.

”So…the answer’s no?” you ask, a tinge of hope still sneaking in.

“No, Y/N, you can’t be allergic to a person. That’s not how it works,” Ningning states, looking at you as if you’ve gone mad. “Who even is this about?” Karina asks, and you wince slightly at the question.

“Donghyuck,” you finally admit after long enough, nervously taking a sip of your juice.

“Sounds to me like you just have feelings for him,” Ningning interjects, and you set down your bottle, looking at her. “Not possible.”

“More possible than you being allergic to him.”

Karina’s words successfully shut you up, and you sink back into the chair. “Okay. Maybe I like him. A little bit. But it’s never going to work out,” you whine.

“Why not?”

“Because we’re friends, and he- how can I like a boy who spends more time looking at his gaming computer than me?”

“Most boys like gaming. Jeno’s the exact same, if you haven’t realised,” Karina retorts, and you reflexively turn your head to the other table, where the middle linebacker sits. Contrary to his intimidating exterior, the boy is surprisingly nice, and a good boyfriend to Karina. You’ve never seen her happier, except for the day when they became an official couple. But no matter.

“He likes physics, Karina. Physics. The boy tried to give me a lecture on thermodynamics. What part of that is attractive to you?”

She winces at that, and you bask in the momentary feeling of victory, before Ningning interjects. “Opposites attract. You’re an arts student, and he’s in science. A match made in heaven. You’re just scared you’ll get rejected, won’t you?”

And as always, Ningning hits the nail on the head directly. The fear of rejection feels all too real, especially when you know that Donghyuck has barely even shown an ounce of interest in anything romantic with anyone, let alone you, the girl who’s been his best friend for close to a decade.

You’re sure that he cares for you, but all and any affection he feels is strictly delineated within the insurmountable boundaries of platonic friendship.

You’re silent, staring off blankly into space until someone settles next to you. Giselle, youngest member of the cheer team but scarily good at tumbling, enough for you to take one look at her and sign her acceptance slip. She warmed up to you quickly after the both of you had been paired up for a group project, and the girl’s quick to notice the sombre atmosphere in the air.

“Boy problems?” She asks, looking at Karina, who nods, angling her chin towards you. “Let me guess - you like Donghyuck but you don’t think he reciprocates your feelings,” she states, and your dejection is briefly replaced by incredulity. “How did you know?”

“You’re terribly obvious, Y/N. There’s only one boy in your life - consider the fact that you’ve completely ignored the advances of half of the guys on the rugby team?”

“They don’t make any advances,” you mutter. Sure, Minhyung may have lent you that one umbrella, and Yangyang’s always asking for your notes in History, but that doesn’t mean anything.

“That’s because everyone quickly gave up after seeing you and Donghyuck,” Giselle explains, and you run a hand through your hair, before regretting it slightly when you realise it’s likely messed up the styling that you had done.

“I just- I swear I didn’t feel anything for him like three months ago. But there was that one time he sneaked into my class to take notes because I had a headache, and also he’s just so-”

“So?” Ningning leans over, waiting for you to finish the sentence, and you close your eyes in embarrassment out of what you’re about to say.

“-attractive. He’s so attractive,” you confess, watching as Karina bites back a laugh. You’re not entirely sure when exactly Donghyuck started taking a specific interest in fashion, figuring out more ways to style his hair than simply letting it fall over his glasses.

“I guess, for a physics nerd, he is cute,” she acquiesces, and you sit up indignantly. “He’s not a nerd! Do you know he can play the drums? And he’s really good at singing.”

Karina leans back reflexively at your outburst, mischief glinting in her eyes as you sink back down. “This is so embarrassing,” you whine, letting out a groan of anguish as Ningning looks on sympathetically.

At your forlorn expression, the youngest cheerleader turns to you and grabs your hands in hers, like some sort of messiah.

“Do you trust me?” Giselle asks, and you nod hesitantly, even though you can’t help but feel like you’re being led into some sort of trap.

“I’ve seen this work hundreds of times. If you do this, I promise Lee Donghyuck will be in love with you by the time winter break rolls around,” she promises, and you suck in a breath at the prospect of it, of getting Donghyuck to see you in a light that isn’t friendship.

Winter break. That’s six months away, which is a little under two hundred days. Barely a fraction of the time you’ve known Donghyuck, but it’ll have to count. “What do I have to do?” You ask, and Giselle grins, her smile reminding you a bit of a comic villain.

“Just three things. Simple, really.”

#1 LEARN ABOUT HIS INTERESTS (PREFERABLY FROM HIM)

The first one is easy. You know Donghyuck’s likes and dislikes from memory, from his personal preferences to the things that make him uncomfortable. He’s easy to please in terms of music, though he gravitates more towards smooth, sultry vocals compared to your playlists of upbeat pop. With regards to food, he’s especially nice to you when you buy him chocolate biscuit snacks, and the only thing he can’t tolerate is celery.

His favourite subjects? Physics and math, though if he had to pick an arts, it would be music. His hobbies include singing, gaming and playing the drums, which he somehow manages to fit in despite the already jam-packed schedule that makes up his life.

When you had duly recited that to Giselle, she hadn’t been sure whether to be concerned or impressed. But she wanted you to take it a step up, which was why you were now in Donghyuck’s room on a Sunday afternoon, arms crossed as he stares back at you.

“What the fuck?”

“Why not?”

Donghyuck shakes his bangs away from the sides of his face, before frowning. “You’re literally the last person I would expect to have a remote interest in Overwatch.”

He’s right, but you ignore that. “I’m…trying new things,” you excuse, watching as he wrinkles his nose slightly before shrugging. “Sure. Sit over there,” he instructs, pointing to the gaming chair. It’s comfortable against your back, and you’re starting to understand why he’s able to spend hours cooped up in his room during holidays.

Donghyuck’s desk is surprisingly organised, besides the empty coffee can abandoned beside the keyboard. Lying in a corner are his files and schoolwork, while the stationery sits on a shelf above. If you force your eyes upwards, you’ll land on a familiar photo frame - one that quickly elicits a smile.

There’s a large Ferris wheel in the background, and right in front, two small children. You’re holding a stick of cotton candy that’s larger than your face, while Donghyuck has one arm around your shoulder and the other grasping onto a teddy bear.

He had won that for you with his pocket money in second grade, and the same bear still sits in your wardrobe, albeit a little dustier. It’s not like you don’t have plenty of other photos as well. There are the ones from Donghyuck’s performances when he was in the school band, and those of you and him during your first cheer competition.

Donghyuck’s there, on every page of your life, like a watermark. Feelings aside, you’re not quite sure what you would do without him.

Your thoughts are disrupted, however, by him leaning over to set up the computer. Donghyuck’s eyes are focused on the screen, and it’s likely why he hasn’t realised how close you are to him. From where you’re sitting, it’s the perfect vantage point to observe Donghyuck’s side profile, lit aglow by the brightness of the screen.

You hate the way your heartbeat speeds up involuntarily, gaze lingering on his jawline and the freckles that dot his cheeks. They always return during summer, only to fade away once the weather turns colder.

The realisation that you find your best friend ridiculously attractive is hitting you straight in the face, and it’s terrifying.

An hour later, you’re sitting on Donghyuck’s bed, gaming console in hand. You’ve established Overwatch as a fruitless venture, and the boy in question looks down at you, amused. “That was only two games. Do you want to try League?”

You shake your head vehemently in resistance, slotting in the game disc to prove your point. He looks as if he’s not quite sure what to do with you, only moving towards his desk to bring a few snacks over.

“I’ve only ever seen you play Overcooked,” he points out, and you roll your eyes. “That’s because it’s the only one I’m good at.”

However, when you take into account the amount of time that you’ve been playing Overcooked, the achievement diminishes. When you first started, Donghyuck would be the only one helping to clear the first few levels, while your goal was simply to not get in the way.

Now, you’re able to keep up with him decently, though he still gets a much higher score in individual matches.

Donghyuck lets out an exasperated huff, but there’s a smile on his face. “I appreciate it, you know,” he says softly, and you turn your head. “What?”

“Overwatch. I know you wanted to try for me,” he says, and you let out a groan, before sinking into the pillow behind you. Of course he’s figured you out. You suppose you should have planned it better, considering the number of times you’ve complained about having to wait for him to finish his games. “At least I know I’m never going to play it ever again.”

Your voice comes out muffled from beneath the blanket, and you miss the way Donghyuck’s eyes cloud over with fondness as he looks at you. “It’s okay. You’re still my best friend, even if you can’t get three star-rankings on your own- ouch.”

He lets out a grunt of pain as you land a well-aimed elbow in his ribs, placing a hand over his stomach and collapsing onto the bed. “You’re so dramatic,” you complain, pushing him off from where he’s half-sprawled over you.

“You’re so mean to me. I still love you though,” he mutters, pinching your left cheek gently with his free hand. You try your best to not make your expression too plain on your face. “Love you too, I guess,” you say, though it comes out more as an incoherent mumble, eyes looking anywhere but at him.

#2 MORE TIME SPENT TOGETHER IS BETTER THAN NONE

You’re not sure how much more you can fulfil task #2, considering the only times you aren’t with Donghyuck are when you’re in class, at practice, or sleeping. But Ningning is quick to denounce your claims during the break, when all of you are sprawled on the gymnasium floor.

“Best-friend activities don’t count, Y/N. You need to go on dates. Things that can be seen in the context of romance,” she clarifies, and you lie back down, exhausted.

It seems having to manage your feelings for Donghyuck while attempting to woo him is quickly becoming a full-time commitment.

You let out a sigh, getting back up once the coach calls to start.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

You did, in fact, do an extraordinary amount of planning.

The autumn festival holiday was around the corner, which meant a few different things. The most important one being that student council went on a break, leaving Donghyuck with precious spare time to rest.

Unfortunately, he was not going to have those three days completely undisturbed, thanks to you.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” Donghyuck comments as he follows behind you, hands tucked into his coat. You grin slightly, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “We’re almost there. Just be patient.”

However, when the both of you round the corner, you immediately see Donghyuck skid to a halt. “Oh no. Definitely not.”

He’s staring at the ice skating rink with a mixture of fear and apprehension, and you let out a laugh.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to try this?” you ask, and he whips his head towards you. “I meant it as a joke. You know I can’t ice skate,” he mumbles nervously, rubbing at the back of his head, and you grab onto the sleeve of Donghyuck’s jacket, pulling him along despite his complaints.

Despite his reluctance, the both of you are quickly on the ice, skates securely strapped to your feet.

It’s a petty sort of consolation to know that Donghyuck isn’t perfect. It’s even worse, however, to know that despite his inclinations to annoy you to death and steal your food, you still have the biggest, most embarrassing crush on him.

You skate up behind him, pausing to observe the boy step carefully over the ice. His posture reminds you a bit of a duckling, and you have to hold back a laugh. Despite how clumsy his movements are, you can’t help but find them endearing.

“Need help?” You ask once you’re next to him, and Donghyuck grumbles slightly before nodding and extending his hands. “It’s not that hard once you get the hang of it. Try not to walk on the ice. It’ll just make you more unsteady.”

There’s a warm feeling of pride that floods you when you see your best friend attempt to take the advice dutifully, gradually getting closer to gliding on the ice. You try not to focus too much on how his fingers are interlaced tightly with yours, palm fitting perfectly in your grasp.

“I think I’ve got it,” he says after a while. There’s a cocky grin plastered on his face as he looks at you, and you scoff slightly. “Why are you still holding on to my hand then?”

His gaze darts down abruptly as if suddenly realizing that his fingers are still interlocked with yours.

“For security,” he replies teasingly, the corners of his lips tilted up.

You try not to make your bewilderment too obvious at his response. Donghyuck teases you plenty, but you’re not sure whether this crosses into the realm of flirting, except for the fact that it leaves your heartbeat unsteady.

“You’re really flushed. Are you okay?” He pauses when he realises you’re not following behind him, eyes warm with concern.

You paste a shaky smile on your face. “I’m fine. Just a little cold.”

It’s a flimsy excuse, but you’re hoping he’ll let it pass. The boy in front of you seems to pause in thought for a moment, before looping his arm through yours and pulling you out of the rink. “Wait, but our slot isn’t done yet-”

Donghyuck doesn’t reply you, too busy shrugging off his denim jacket as you stare at him in confusion. “There’s only ten minutes left anyways. We can go get hot chocolate,” he suggests.

“Also, wear this,” he mutters, and you feel something warm draped over your shoulders. Donghyuck’s jacket is a little too big on you, but it’s comfortable, with the faint cottony smell that you’ve grown to identify with him. “Thanks,” you mumble softly, your own voice tuned out by the thundering of your heartbeat in your ears.

You’re so fucked.

When Donghyuck first met Zhong Chenle, he thought he was going to go deaf. It was like the boy was constantly speaking out of a megaphone from his sheer volume.

He once told Chenle that he heard him more than he saw him. The boy had only responded with another ear-splitting laugh. But Donghyuck still enjoys having him around, for the main reason that Chenle’s the only one capable of co-opting with him and not being complete dead weight - Jisung’s pretty hopeless, and Jaemin’s often too tired from training to log on.

“Donghyuck. Do you want food?”

He had given up on getting Chenle to use honorifics a long time ago, the boy either excusing it with the fact that he was foreign, or that Donghyuck acted like he was younger anyways.

“Let’s get Chinese takeout. Loser pays,” he replies, and Chenle immediately nods in assent, switching his mode over to single-player.

It doesn’t take long for the ‘game over’ screen to flash up at Donghyuck, and he flings his controller to the side, Chenle turning around with a smug grin on his face.

“Don’t sulk,” he scolds, pinching Donghyuck in the side, who currently has his face buried in the pillow. “I’m not sulking. I just can’t believe I lost to a seventeen-year-old,” he grumbles, before fishing out his wallet and passing it to Chenle.

It’s not the first time he’s lost - the score is pretty even between them, and no one’s keeping tally, but Donghyuck just likes to be dramatic. He thinks it’s one of his talents, the innate quality of over-emphasising every small thing to draw a reaction out of anyone.

And of course, his favourite person to pester is you. Chenle’s in second place, but that’s because the boy sometimes annoys him even more in retaliation. You’re not capable of annoying Donghyuck even if you tried, because he’s used to every tendency of yours. You only whine when you’re tired or embarrassed, and even that’s more cute than exhausting.

“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you something.”

Donghyuck remains silent, but a nod of his head indicates for Chenle to continue.

“Is it true that everyone gets together in senior year?” he asks, and Donghyuck furrows his eyebrows, considering the question. He supposes there’s Jeno and Karina, Giselle and Yangyang, and in the previous year there was Hyunsuk and Haeun-

“Oh. I guess so? Plenty of people at least.”

“What about you, then?”

What about him? Donghyuck wondered for a brief moment, but the answer wasn’t hard to figure out. He liked you, but he was too much of a coward to ever say anything, because all the words seemed to get stuck in his throat whenever he tried to open his mouth.

“Oh. Not everyone, I guess,” he realizes, and Chenle scoffs. “Is it because no one likes you?”

Donghyuck’s eyebrows raise in annoyance. “I’ll have you know people like me plenty,” he retorts, narrowing his eyes at the younger boy, who only grins even wider.

“Like Y/N?”

“You- how do you know?” Donghyuck thinks this might be the first time Chenle’s ever caught him off guard, the boy’s eyes betraying a certain sense of mischief.

But Chenle avoids his question, instead leaning his head down until it’s hanging off the bed, his eyes staring intently at Donghyuck. “Have you confessed?”

At the boy’s silence, he hums in conclusion. “I guess not. You know, if you even want to stand a chance, you should do it now.”

Donghyuck stiffens at his words. “What do you mean?”

“There are so many more guys at university. And if anything, Y/N’s going to be one of the most popular people there.”

He knows that. For God’s sake, Donghyuck is the best example of the magnetic effect you have on others.

But he was the first. That has to count for something. “It’s fine,” he mutters doubtfully. “It’s not like she hasn’t received confessions before.”

Ha Sungwoon in freshman year, who wrote you a love letter and placed it in your locker. Kim Youngjae from the tuition academy, who was your deskmate for three terms during the summer holidays. And just last year, Kang Taebin, a guy two years older who was a fellow part-timer. Donghyuck had called him a creep three minutes after you had called to tell him about the confession you received, and you had simply laughed before assuring him that it was a rejection on your end.

He remembers each of them clearly, like little pegs on a post arranged chronologically right on top of one another.

And right at the bottom, Lee Donghyuck, who started feeling butterflies in his stomach at the sight of you when he was fifteen but was too scared to admit it until two years later.

“Maybe she’s waiting to date in university. What are you going to do if she actually gets a boyfriend?”

“Be happy for her?” The way Donghyuck’s voice lifts at the end makes it sound like a question, reflective of the confusion he feels swirling in his heart.

It only takes a few seconds for him to realise the idea of having you date someone else causes his mood to dampen considerably, and from the way Chenle purses his mouth, he doesn’t believe Donghyuck either.

But Donghyuck’s only known how to be your best friend, not anything more or anything less.

Yet, if you have to make time for a boyfriend - he feels himself seize with panic at the idea of possibly drifting away from you, of having to make way for another stranger, for another man to love and know you more than he does.

In an ideal world, Donghyuck would move with you to a little island where there was no one else, the kind that both of you promised each other when you were kids. But that’s not how real life works, and he’s starting to realise that the chances he has are running out as quickly as the time left in the year.

Chenle seems to fall silent, watching the minute shift in expressions on Donghyuck’s face, and the latter suddenly feels too vulnerable, too seen. He shoves Chenle’s shoulder - gently, but enough to regain some control over his free-running emotions and inject some confidence into his voice.

“What do you know, anyways? You’re just a kid,” Donghyuck says, looking towards his phone gratefully when it lights up with a notification.

“Let’s not talk about this anymore,” he sighs out. “I’m going to get the food.”

But as he walks down the long hallway towards Chenle’s door, the marble floor cold against his bare feet, Donghyuck finally admits to himself that the younger boy is dead right.

At this point, you feel like Karina and Ningning might be more invested in your love life than you are. With the newest addition of Giselle, it’s like they’ve renewed their passion in finding ways to help you.

“So? How was the date?”

Giselle looks over at you expectantly from where she’s seated in the booth. The four of you are in a mall, and you’re starting to regret having agreed to go out. It was an invitation to be interrogated on your progress (or lack thereof) with Donghyuck. “He fell,” you mutter.

“For you?”

“No. On the ice.”

You hear Ningning’s exasperated sigh before you see her face. She looks like she’s about to commit murder, and you smile, albeit apologetically. “He gave me his jacket. And bought me hot chocolate.”

Karina lets out an encouraging hum. ‘That’s good…isn’t it?” You shrug, more nonchalant than disappointed. “I’m not sure. He’s definitely being nicer, but it’s still no indication. It’s probably just because I paid for the tickets,” you reply.

There’s a collective silence that descends over the table when your food comes, only broken when the heaping bowls of pasta are cleared halfway.

“Then I think we should go for the third tactic. It’ll be harder, though,” Giselle says, a sharp sort of conviction in her voice as she gazes at you. “What is it?” Ningning asks, and the brown-haired girl smiles proudly.

“Na Jaemin.”

Ah, Na Jaemin.

Where should you start?

If perfection exists in a person, Na Jaemin just might be the closest thing to it. The star quarterback is the school’s pride and joy, and you’re quite sure he already has multiple full-ride scholarships secured.

And unfortunately, unlike the cliches, he’s one of the sweetest people in the level, with a smile bright enough to light up any room. Sure, Jaemin might occasionally borrow your homework to copy, but he always makes it up by sending over lecture notes and iced coffee. The both of you are almost like colleagues, considering you’re there to cheer at each of his games and have seen every single touchdown he’s made.

Now, the athlete is sitting in front of you, a Starbucks cup in hand. His drink is a concerning shade of dark brown, almost black, and you’re too scared to ask him what it is.

“How did Giselle convince you to do this?”

“She didn’t have to. I thought it would be fun. Besides, Donghyuck’s a cool guy,” he replies, and you narrow your eyes.

Giselle nods encouragingly. “See? It’ll be a great idea.”

The way she and Jaemin are looking at you makes you feel like you’re the crazy one for doubting the plausibility of the idea.

“It’s the oldest trick in the book, Y/N,” she comforts, and you exhale hesitantly, before nodding.

#3 THE GREEN-EYED MONSTER AND CUPID ARE NOT SO DIFFERENT

It’s a yearly occurrence at this point, but that doesn’t mean you don’t partake in it either. People flooding to the atrium of the school, towards the large corkboard with its neat rows of printed black text. There are some who are jumping excitedly, others…not so excited.

At least the waterworks haven’t begun, which is always a good sign. You’re scanning the board until you find your name, the number next to it eliciting a soft sigh of relief.

The top thirty of the level. Decent enough to keep your parents happy, even if they’ll definitely ask you how Donghyuck did.

His name is printed in glossy letters right near the top. Second place is every student’s dream, but he’ll probably complain about it to you later. Both he and Renjun have been fighting tooth-and-nail this year for first place, even if they’re technically good friends.

It’s only when you’re at your locker that he appears, backpack slung over his shoulder. “I saw your rankings. You did well.” There’s a glimmer of pride on his face, so genuine that it causes your heart to flutter imperceptibly.

Despite his perfect grades and records, Donghyuck’s never made you feel less than him. Instead, he’s the one who’s waiting for you after every performance, and spending countless afternoons tutoring you in the library. “Thank you,” you say softly.

“By the way, the autumn fair is this weekend. We should celebrate,” he suggests, and your heart stops for a moment. This is it.

You inhale nervously, before looking at Donghyuck. “Actually…”

“If you can’t make it because of practice, that’s okay-”

“I’m going with Jaemin.”

Donghyuck falls quiet at your admission, and you almost wish you had bitten your tongue. His jovial expression looks slightly dimmer now, as he throws a glance at you.

“Na Jaemin? Suddenly?” The tone feels almost accusatory, and you bristle slightly. “Yeah. He asked me. Sorry,” you breathe out, watching Donghyuck carefully as a thousand emotions pass over his face before it returns to careful neutrality.

“Okay. Cool. I’ll see you next week then,” he replies, voice clipped, before turning on his heel.

“Wait! Donghyuck!”

You immediately rush after him, and the boy pauses for a few precious seconds, glancing at you hopefully.

”Aren’t we going for lunch?” You ask, and his shoulders sink back down, as if disappointed. The expression in his eyes is unreadable for once as he gazes at you. “I forgot I had a council meeting. You can go ahead,” he excuses, not waiting for your response before rushing out of your sight.

There’s a pang in your heart at Donghyuck’s cold tone, and you’re starting to wonder if Giselle’s plan is backfiring terribly as he walks further and further down the hallway, without sparing you a glance.

Maybe you’re overreacting. He’s likely stressed by the upcoming end-year projects that the council is planning, along with today’s results. This barely means anything compared to the arguments the both of you have had, the ones where you angrily refuse to read his texts until the boy pesters you into relenting.

Yet, why does it feel like the end?

Once in a while, Donghyuck has a terrible day. And it’s not just a little bad - like forgetting his umbrella during a downpour, or having all his pen nibs snap on the day of an important exam.

Though those things have happened before, and are particularly vexing, they don’t cause him to lose his nerve, mainly because you always share your umbrella with him and keep spare pens in a box in your locker.

He supposes he shouldn’t complain - one terrible day out of a hundred good ones is pretty decent, and Donghyuck supposes he has his naturally positive outlook to thank for that.

But this might just go down in the books as being the worst day of his life.

His argument with you has dampened his mood considerably, so much that even Renjun noticed in between lessons, nudging Donghyuck when he had failed to hear the teacher call his name.

He supposes he shouldn’t be too upset about it - in the big scheme of things, you going with Jaemin to the autumn fair isn’t something of vital importance. It’s not like you told Donghyuck you’ve decided to date the guy, or that you have a crush on him.

And as someone who takes a science elective, he supposes he should know that nothing should be concluded without proper, repeated results, and that there are too many variables in any experiment that can be changed, much less when it comes to you and Jaemin.

But Jaemin’s not rude like Sungwoon, arrogant like Youngjae, or weird like Taebin - he’s cheerful, volunteers at the animal shelter on weekends, and is the pride and joy of your school’s rugby team. He’s also ridiculously good at Overwatch, which is bizarre considering he only plays whenever Donghyuck convinces him to go online.

He’s Donghyuck’s friend, and a good person. If anything, he should be giving the stamp of approval, perhaps even encouraging because there’s no one else who deserves you.

There’s only one problem - himself. Lee Donghyuck, the independent variable.

Fuck research protocol. He’ll employ whatever methodology he needs if it means you choose him over Jaemin.

“Fuck research protocol,” he mutters, earning a concerned look from his deskmate. “I sure hope that’s a joke. Our lab practical is next week,” Renjun replies, peeling a label and pasting it carefully on the test tube.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “That was a simile,” he explains.

“You mean a metaphor?”

Fuck. Perhaps he didn’t retain the lecture you gave him on literary devices as well as he thought he did.

Donghyuck’s suddenly reminded by the fact that Jaemin’s also a Literature student, which means he definitely knows the difference between a simile and a metaphor, and won’t bore you with explanations of conservation laws.

It also means that Jaemin can definitely understand Little Women on the first try, and doesn’t need to Sparknote it beforehand to discuss with you - and Donghyuck can’t deny that he’s just mildly horrified at the idea of you letting someone else watch the movie with you, one of the cornerstones of your movie nights.

To be fair, Donghyuck’s made his friends watch The Conjuring - but that’s not even the same thing. There’s absolutely nothing romantic about him getting scared half out of his wits after Renjun and Jeno pour fake blood all over the bathroom mirror, but what if you see Laurie dancing with Jo and deciding you want some of that for yourself?

Donghyuck should be there when that happens. Not anyone else, and most definitely not Na Jaemin.

But with the way he shook you off this morning - a pang of crushing guilt floods him, and Donghyuck has the urge to kick himself, just for how stupid he’s been. If anything, he's only pushed you further away.

He realises he never did reply Renjun’s question when the boy waves his hand in front of his face. “Oh. Yeah. A metaphor. Whatever,” he says cursorily, watching as Renjun stares at him as if he’s grown another head.

He’s starting to think it might be better if he did, just to figure out the puzzle of his own heart.

It’s only when you miss the step for the third time that Karina walks towards you, placing a careful hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay? You’ve been out of it all afternoon,” she comments, a concerned look in her eyes.

You nod after a moment, signalling for the rest of the cheerleaders to take a break. Your position as captain means that you’re responsible for directing most of the practices, but how are you going to monitor a routine if you keep messing up the steps yourself?

Unfortunately, you can’t seem to take your mind off Donghyuck, and how he hasn’t replied to your texts since the afternoon. You’ve offered to get him snacks after council, and yet, radio silence.

It’s not abnormal for him to forget to check his phone, but with every second that passes, the uneasiness in your stomach just becomes heavier. You wonder if he’s that angry over your change of plans for Jaemin, and whether it might be better to just ditch the entire plan.

Fuck your feelings. You want your best friend back, and you’d rather have Donghyuck’s friendship than a cold shoulder.

However, Karina’s still staring at you, so you tear yourself away from thoughts of him, refocusing on the scene in front of you.

“Let’s do stunts!” You instruct, cupping your hands over your mouth to emphasise your volume. You’re grateful it doesn’t come out shaky and betray the emotional turmoil you’re going through, watching as everyone lines up in their typical groups, clearing the mat space for tumbling.

It’s one of your favourite things in the world, the feeling of soaring briefly in the air before your feet land on solid ground, and it’ll be a welcome distraction from the boy who takes up too much space in your heart and mind.

Karina always leads the first round, and this time is no different. You suck in a deep breath, before taking a running leap and relishing the thrill of momentarily being a full 180 degrees in the air, as if you’re floating. But there’s still a dull ache in your heart that refuses to leave, even as you prep for the second part of the stunt.

You realise you’ve messed up a moment too early, before it happens. You’re not even sure when distraction had gripped at you, suddenly realising the angle at which you’re landing is strangely off. There’s fear that shoots through you, cold and unrelenting, but it only allows you a few seconds of panic.

A grunt of pain leaves you the moment your foot lands wrongly, the concerned shouts of the other girls echoing in the background. Your body collapses to the ground, hands narrowly stopping you from falling flat on your face.

You can only be grateful that you haven’t heard a crack, but the sharp ache that shoots up tells you that something is definitely injured.

You hear the rush of footsteps before Karina immediately crouches next to you, an arm under your shoulder. “Can you walk?” she asks, and you grit your teeth before nodding. Her voice is calm, but you can still detect the undercurrent of panic poking through. It’s likely a sprain, which hopefully means you’ll just have to rest.

Not your first injury, but it still hurts like a bitch.

You try your best to smile at the rest of the team as she helps you hobble towards the gymnasium entrance, but it’s a poor attempt at comfort. But being in charge means that it’s your job to worry, not theirs.

It feels like an eternity as you make the slow hobble towards the nurse’s office, Karina on one side and Ningning at the other. Even as the throbbing pain of your ankle causes to let out an occasional wince, you can’t help but feel a surge of gratefulness for the two girls beside you.

You allow yourself to lean back once you’re carefully placed on the bed, the nurse carefully looking at your foot. “It’s an ankle sprain. You’ll be up in two weeks, but you should be careful for the next month.”

Her words cause you to let out a sigh of relief. There’s two more months to the performance. A tight fit, but you’ll make it.

“The both of you should go back to practice,” you tell Karina and Ningning while the nurse wraps your foot in bandages. Karina clucks in disapproval. “How can we? You’re injured.”

Her evident concern causes you to chuckle slightly. “I’ll be fine. The others are probably wondering what happened. Don’t worry,” you assure, and her face softens slightly.

“Okay. We’ll make sure everything goes well, so just focus on recovering, okay?”

You nod obediently at Karina’s request, and she ruffles your hair affectionately before following Ningning out.

The moment the both of them leave, you let yourself sink back into the pillow and close your eyes in hopes of rest. On record, this might be one of the worst days you’ve had this year. You hear footsteps thud into the room, and assume it’s the nurse moving around.

You sure hope it isn’t another injured student, considering you’d rather not have anyone see you wallow in self-pity.

Until a familiar figure steps behind the curtain, and your heart sinks even further.

“Hey.”

Donghyuck’s standing in front of you, hands tucked into the pockets of his school blazer. His shirt is slightly rumpled, tie pulled out, and he looks like he’s been running. There’s an unreadable expression on his face as he crosses the distance towards the bed you’re lying on, settling in the wobbly plastic chair next to the bed.

“Why are you here?” He flinches at your question, and you wonder if he can hear the tremor in your words.

“Does your foot hurt?” He shoots back with another question, and you whip your head to face him sharply.

“I sprained it. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Honestly, Y/N, you should be more careful-”

“Well, how was I supposed to feel when you didn’t reply to my messages-”

“Are you blaming me for your sprained foot?” Donghyuck asks incredulously, eyes wide as he stares at you, willing you to fall silent. He runs a hand haphazardly through his hair, and you’ve never seen him this agitated.

“Fuck, this wasn’t how I wanted it to go. Renjun said- never mind.” His voice is resigned, and the dejected tone causes your shoulders to sink and the fight to leave you. “You know I’m not blaming you,” you mutter softly, and he sinks down in the chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he nods.

There’s more that Donghyuck wants to say. You can tell by the way he swallows nervously, adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he thrums his fingers nervously on his lap. “I just- it’s been a weird day, and I took it out on you because I was looking forward to the fair,” he admits.

It’s as close to an apology that someone like him can give, and you can tell the boy’s truly remorseful. Donghyuck’s someone who lives easily without regrets, who says and does the things that he wants. The confidence he possesses is something to be admired, but it also means that sometimes you get hurt.

But no matter what, he’s still your best friend, and the one that you’ll trust with anything.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” you mumble softly, watching as his eyes become less dejected and fill with an unfamiliar sort of fondness, one that tugs painfully at your heartstrings. You bring your hand down from where it’s resting on your lap, breath hitching when Donghyuck doesn’t wait to intertwine his fingers with yours. When he lifts his head to look up at you again, his gaze is heavy with the weight of a thousand unsaid words.

“You don’t have to tell me everything, Y/N. We both have our own friends too, and I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything you want to do,” he replies honestly, and you look at him, a stricken expression on your face.

How do you tell Donghyuck that you wish he would care? About who you go out with, or that you wish he would tell you that he doesn’t want you to go with Jaemin, but with him instead?

You would gladly let him hold you back, to cross the line dividing friendship and the heady rush of attraction that you felt every single time you looked at him.

“We can go together instead. I didn’t even confirm plans with Jaemin,” you quickly clarify, looking at him hopefully. You know that the boy wouldn’t mind if you cancelled, considering the very reason behind it. But there’s a mournful smile that makes its way onto Donghyuck’s face, strangely pensive as he shakes his head.

“It’s okay. Jaemin’s nice. You should have fun. I can just go with Renjun or Jeno,” he says, and you’re left helpless in the face of his kind rejection. “What did the doctor say? Is the pain better?”

His abrupt change of topic dispels the awkward atmosphere, and you understand that the rather sensitive topic of Jaemin will be shelved for now.

“It’ll recover in time, but it still hurts,” you complain, and Donghyuck tilts his head sympathetically, but flicks your forehead nevertheless. His previous concern is gone, replaced more with anger. But you don’t mind, because you know it comes from a place of care, even if he’s scolding you. “Be more careful next time. I don’t want you to get injured.”

The firm tone of his voice makes you sink back into the pillow, nodding obediently. Until Donghyuck grabs your hand, causing you to jerk slightly in shock.

“I’m serious, Y/N. You’re precious to many people.”

What about you? Am I precious to you? Is the question on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow it quickly. “Okay. I promise,” you reply, and he smiles contentedly, the kind that makes his left dimple peek through.

“Na Jaemin, if you kick me one more time, I’ll tell Chenle you were the one who spilled water on his computer,” Karina threatens, narrowing her eyes at the black-haired boy. “It was an accident!” he defends, looking towards you for support.

“Y/N? You good?” You jerk up at the mention of your name, realising that Jeno, Karina and Jaemin are all looking at you. “Oh, sorry,” you mumble, taking a big bite of the pumpkin pie that sits in front of you.

It’s supposed to be your favourite, but the puree tastes like sand in your mouth. Karina takes one look at your glum expression, and stands up, not so gently pulling Jeno along with her. “Come on. Let’s go try some games,” she suggests in an effort to perk you up, and you nod in agreement, trying to put on a wobbly grin on your face to appreciate her efforts.

Even then, Karina’s quick to run off with Jeno, and a genuine smile makes its way onto your face when you watch him tease her for failing to get the ball into the hoop. They’re adorable, the kind of couple that lasts even after graduation.

“Have you ever fallen in love?”

Jaemin looks over at your question, his fleece jacket tucked snugly around his shoulders. “No. But looking at you, it doesn’t seem to be that great.”

“Thanks,” you mutter dryly, watching as he grins, pearly-whites poking through. “Just kidding. You and Donghyuck are perfect for each other.”

Despite everything that has happened, it feels nice to have Jaemin’s vote of confidence, even as you teeter unsurely in your relationship with Donghyuck.

“You know, as much as I agree with Giselle’s ideas, I think you should try something different,” Jaemin says, out of the blue, and you cast a doubtful glance. There are people walking past the both of you, an even mix of students and adults. Yet, each time you search for Donghyuck in the crowd, he’s nowhere to be found.

Even after your injury, the both of you had fallen into your natural rhythm effortlessly, Donghyuck still cracking jokes and you responding with laughter. You still ran down to the record store when he needed help, listening to some tracks and providing what feedback you could, and he still left you convenience store bags after practice, sometimes accompanied by extra snacks for Karina and Ningning as well.

Except that nowadays, your heart felt like it was constantly about to burst out of your chest, and you always felt your cheeks warm whenever Donghyuck got a little too close. It didn’t help that he was naturally affectionate, something that you enjoyed and hated in equal measure.

Enjoyed because it meant that he didn’t hesitate to wrap you up in a hug each time he saw you, or hold your hand and pull you to walk on the inside of the pavement. Hated because you were now hypersensitive to each time the both of you had any contact, freezing up whenever he leaned his head onto your shoulder or looped an arm around your waist.

A simple action of his was enough to make your heart flutter, and as much as nothing between you and Donghyuck had changed, your feelings were getting harder and harder to hide each day.

You only realise a few moments later that Jaemin’s still waiting for your reply.

“Honestly? I’m kind of tired of trying. If it happens, it’ll happen,” you sigh out.

At this point, the lines between what you can do as a friend and what’s romantic have blurred so much, especially with someone like Donghyuck. He’s held you when you cried over injuries, and looped his arm between yours when the both of you went on trips to the city. He’s seen you at your ugliest and your best, and you would like to think that if he had an inkling of attraction towards you, there would have been an indication.

Jaemin takes one look at the dejected expression on your face, and half-hugs you in an attempt at comfort. “It’ll be fine. If it helps, you can look forward to the game. Boys are overrated.”

“You’re saying that yourself?”

He nods, keeping his face as serious as he can before the corners of his lips tilt up, betraying a smile.

“Don’t tell Karina, but you’re my favourite cheerleader,” he whispers conspiratorially, and you laugh despite the heaviness in your chest.

You wonder if Donghyuck has a favourite cheerleader too.

Considering how you’ve been part of the team since freshman year, you should feel less nervous. However, there’s still a teeming anxiety that pervades you as you pace around your bedroom. The uniform is already on the bed, your makeup bag shoved into the corner - but you’re still wondering if you’ve forgotten something.

Until your phone buzzes, and you hold it on speaker as you rifle through your closet for an extra pair of socks.

“I’ve seen you walking around your room since afternoon. Need any help?” Donghyuck’s voice filters through the speaker with its characteristic warmth, and you shake your head reflexively, knowing that he can see it from where he’s leaning out over his balcony.

A benefit of being neighbours - he’s never really further than a phone call away.

“I think I’m just nervous because it’s the last game of the season. And I haven’t gotten to practice as much because of the injury.” Your eyes drift to the brace sitting abandoned in the corner of your room, a reminder of the mistake that you’d prefer not to make again.

Donghyuck hums sympathetically, and you know that he understands, considering this happens before most of your performances, unless you’re feeling exceptionally confident.

“Want to go out for boba? My treat,” he promises, and you smile at his attempt to help.

You can already hear him moving around his room, packing up his things, and it causes warmth to surge in you, an affectionate feeling that is slowly becoming directly associated with him.

How are you supposed to get over Donghyuck if he consistently knows what you need? It’s like the boy specifically caters to everything that makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re quick to grab a jacket, pausing briefly to decide before your eyes land on a familiar denim one that’s much too big on you. It’s been your accessory of choice more often than not, until even Karina had noticed it during rehearsal.

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows slightly when you step down the driveway. He’s leaning against his car, ripped jeans tucked into his favourite pair of boots. It’s fascinating how starkly his personal clothing choice differs from what he wears to school, and you suppose the strict dress code has stifled his creativity in terms of outfits.

“That jacket looks familiar,” he points out, and you make a halfhearted attempt to shrug innocently. “It’s mine now.”

He lets out an amused huff at that, before motioning for you to get into the car. “You know, if you wanted more of my hoodies, you could have just asked,” he says, a knowing look in his eyes as he watches your cheeks redden.

“No one wants more of your hoodies. I’m doing this out of necessity,” you mutter, but Donghyuck knows you’re lying. He hasn’t seen you willingly wear a jacket since middle school, which is the main reason why you’ve worn so many of his, but the sight of his clothing draped over your shoulders fills him with a certain satisfaction, one that he can’t pinpoint.

“Keep it. It looks better on you anyways.”

Your head turns sharply at Donghyuck’s words, but his gaze remains fixed on the road, oblivious of the way your heartbeat speeds up in your chest. You wonder if he knows what effect he has on you, saying the things he does - and it seems to happen more often now, compliments slipping out here and there that make your eyes widen and a nervous laugh bubble out of your throat.

“Do you know that differentiation and integration aren’t even antonyms of each other?” You ask, balancing your chin on your hand as you look over at the boy sitting opposite you.

Donghyuck clicks his tongue disapprovingly, tapping your forehead gently with his pen. “Focus.”

“It doesn’t make any sense that they’re the opposites of each other in math-”

He looks up at you, a look of amused exasperation on his face as he stares you down. “I know you’re better than me in languages. But you’re the one who asked for help for your test, so solve these sums, and I’ll mark them,” he tells you, and your lips settle into a pout when you realise he means it.

“Fine,” you mutter, and a low chuckle escapes him at your defeated expression when you dip your head back down to look at the textbook in front of you.

There isn’t any further response from the boy, which is why you fill with alarm when he suddenly scoots over closer to you, head jerking upwards so quickly that your bangs fall into your face, temporarily obscuring your view.

“How are you going to see your worksheet if your hair’s always in your face?”

“You’re one to speak,” you retort, knowing full well that Donghyuck’s always protesting against cutting his hair, preferring when it’s longer. He pokes his tongue in his cheek out of annoyance, and your eyes immediately drift to the action.

“Stay still,” he mumbles, and your eyes widen inquisitively in confusion, right as he leans over, hand moving towards your face to tuck your hair behind your ear. You barely process the movement, only registering the soft brush of his fingers against your cheek before your stomach does a thousand backflips.

The action is sweet, even for him, and the gentleness of it makes your breath catch in your throat.

Donghyuck doesn’t pull his hand away, palm hovering beside your face even as he’s finished.

“Your hair’s soft,” he points out, and you can’t even deign to provide a response, too caught up in the rapid thundering of your heartbeat in your ears. He eventually sits back, eyes never leaving your face even as you stare at him, shell-shocked.

“Y/N. Y/N.” An insistent voice jerks you out of your thoughts, and you turn your head towards its source, only to be met with Donghyuck’s gaze. He must have been calling your name for a while, you realise, and you let out a cough that comes out more awkward than smooth.

There’s a cup of brown sugar milk tea in his hand - your favourite, and the sugar level at half, just the way you like it. It’s not anything special, but the fact that he remembers, and the way you know his is probably a taro milk tea with less ice, brings a smile to your face. “I thought I lost you there,” he says, and your smile turns sheepish. “Sorry. Drifted away for a second.”

He pokes the straw into the plastic, taking a quick sip. “About?”

“Hm?”

“What were you thinking about?”

“You.” The confession escapes your mouth before you can even halt it, brain short-circuiting as you realise what you’ve just said. Your throat seizes up, and you barely stop yourself from choking on your drink, the pearls making their way down uncomfortably.

“I mean- I just- I was thinking about how you were paying for the bubble tea- and how I should pay for your gas or something-” you sputter out a poor excuse, watching as Donghyuck begins to laugh, so hard that he holds on to his stomach.

You’re quite sure your cheeks are now pink with mortification, knowing full well that he can tell that you’re lying and you’ve completely, utterly embarrassed yourself in front of your best friend and the poor barista working the night shift behind the counter.

“It’s not like you haven’t treated me before,” he points out, picking up a napkin and placing it on your side, before his eyes narrow slightly with mischief. “But your first reply-” he moves closer, until you can see your own reflection in his eyes. “-what were you thinking? About me?”

His voice is smug as he says it, and you realise Donghyuck’s simply teasing you. It’s not the first time he’s jokingly flirted with you, but with the weight of your newfound feelings, you’re no longer sure how to respond.

Your mind is running at a mile a minute, before you finally settle on something. “Annoying.”

Donghyuck blinks, caught off-guard. “Huh?”

“I was thinking about how you’re annoying,” you bite out, letting out a relieved sigh when he sinks back into the chair, huffing petulantly.

“Is this because I stole your fries the other day?” He asks, feigning hurt, and you remain stone-faced as you look at him, nodding. “You also doodled little suns everywhere on my worksheet until Mr Kim made me redo it.”

“They were cute suns!”

“Sure, whatever you say.”

They were, but that’s beside the point. Crisis averted, you find it easier to joke around with Donghyuck, lips curving up as he looks at you, an indignant expression on his face.

You love the way he reacts to your dry, barely-there humor, a stark contrast from the way he smoothly interjects with quips and teasing. “Admit it. They were cute,” he demands, hands placed on the table for dramatic effect.

Your arms are crossed as you meet his gaze. “No.”

He huffs out in frustration, and you have to hold yourself back from cooing at how adorable he looks like this.

“I’m never buying you bubble tea again,” he mutters, and you grin slightly. “Sure.”

“You- never mind.” Your heart softens slightly at his forlorn expression, and you wonder if this is what it feels like to have the upper hand temporarily.

“I kept the worksheet, by the way,” you add, and he looks at you reluctantly, as if not yet deciding whether to listen or to ignore you.

“…What worksheet?” he asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

“The one you drew on. It’s still in my file.”

Your hint causes Donghyuck to sit back up hopefully. “You didn’t throw it away?” When you shake your head, he breaks out into a smile so bright that it reminds you a little of the doodled suns themselves.

“Does that mean you think they’re cute?” He follows up with another question eagerly, and you hum, as if deep in thought.

“Maybe.”

It’s just one word, but with the way Donghyuck is looking at you, it seems as if you’ve just told him he’s won the lottery.

You’d do anything to see him have that expression, you realise, unable to hide your grin now as he looks at you. If your friends were privy to your thoughts, they would have teased you for how in over your head you were.

Even if you could get over your crush on Donghyuck, you weren’t quite sure if you wanted to.

You’ve never told anyone, but the first person who you practised your makeup skills on wasn’t yourself.

It was Lee Donghyuck.

There’s definitely still a picture of him saved somewhere on your old phone, blusher carefully dusted on his cheeks and soft pink eyeshadow blended into a darker brown, complete with mascara and winged eyeliner. You had convinced him by promising to sponsor some of his in-game credits, and after a week of begging, the boy had finally sat himself down and allowed you free reign.

You hated how he had still looked good at the end of it, despite your novice skills. After that, you always used him for test makeup runs, until you finally grew confident enough to do it on your own.

Now, however, you’re standing in your bathroom anxiously, eyes darting to the time on your phone. Three hours before you have to leave for the stadium, and you’ve decided to test out your plan for makeup.

“I’m sure you look good,” Donghyuck assures through the phone, his voice muffled. However, you’re too nervous to focus on the compliment, nibbling at your lip.

“But I’ve never worn silver eyeshadow before! What if I just look washed out in the photos?”

“How about you take a picture now, and send it to me?”

“But my bathroom lighting is bad. Can’t you just come over now and take a look?” you plead, and Donghyuck lets out a soft groan of fatigue, causing you to wince apologetically. In all truth, you didn’t mean to wake him up at four in the morning. It just happens that Donghyuck is the only person you trust with things like these, and you find yourself needing his presence now more than ever.

There’s a beat of silence, and you’re thinking he might just hang up.

“Fine,” he agrees, and you almost let out a squeal of excitement, before realising your parents are likely still sleeping. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you whisper into the phone, hearing him chuckle slightly.

“No problem. Now let me in. It’s cold.”

You don’t waste any time rushing towards the door, swinging it open for Donghyuck to come in. He looks at you, blinking tiredly at your bare face. “Where’s your makeup?”

“Oh. I haven’t done it yet. I just wanted to call you first.”

“Wake me up when you’re done, then,” he mumbles, following you into your room and promptly falling asleep on your bed, blanket tucked around him.

You stare at him for a while, mildly amazed at how fast the boy can sleep, before forcing yourself to get back to the task at hand.

It’s over an hour later when you finally trudge over to Donghyuck, hair styled as well.

“Donghyuck,” you call, poking at the boy to get him to wake up. Thankfully, he’s a lot faster this time, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes blearily.

“You’re done?” He asks, and you nod excitedly, before realising something and running back into the bathroom.

When you step back out, you’ve changed from your long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants into your cheer uniform, feeling slightly more confident about the way you look.

“Okay. I’m done. How is it?” You ask expectantly, waiting with bated breath as you step out, to face him directly.

For a long time, Donghyuck doesn’t say anything, and you look up from where your hands are brushing down your skirt, only to meet his heavy stare, that hasn’t left you even once. His eyes dart up to meet yours, catching on the silver eyeshadow that rests on your eyelids, to the gems carefully placed along the edges.

There’s a starstruck expression on his face, one that causes you to shift on your feet, warmth creeping up the back of your neck. Donghyuck’s sitting on the edge of the bed and facing you directly, knees brushing yours, and you laugh out of your nerves. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

He’s still looking up at you, until his gaze darts briefly to the side - you see Donghyuck swallow heavily, as if attempting to find the words to say.

Until he stands up abruptly, rising to his full height. The sudden movement causes you to stumble backwards, and despite his silence, Donghyuck instinctively wraps a hand around your waist to steady you. “Careful,” he mutters lowly, and your mind goes blank for a few seconds, nervousness clearing temporarily to make way for the fact that his face is inches away from yours.

You’re frantic for an entirely different reason now, quickly getting yourself upright to place some distance between the both of you. Donghyuck seems to regain his senses as well, clearing his throat.

“I told you I was right. It looks good,” he finally says, and you take a while to calm down the pace of your heartbeat. “Really?”

“You look beautiful, Y/N. You’ll do great. I mean it,” he assures, voice sincere as he cranes his neck down a little to better match your height, a soft smile on his face. The fluttering of your pulse returns with a vengeance, and you realise that Donghyuck’s hand hasn’t left your right hip, his warmth bleeding through the thin fabric.

At least the nerves about the performance have dissipated, entirely replaced by the dizzying rush that comes with being near Donghyuck.

As if on cue, your phone vibrates several times, lighting up with messages from what must be Karina and Ningning. Donghyuck’s eyes dart to it as well, and he grins slightly. “We should probably go,” he suggests, and you eventually find it in yourself to nod.

When he lets go of you, you try not to feel too disappointed.

Despite your more-than-distracting encounter with Donghyuck early in the morning, you’re quick to focus the moment you step into the waiting room.

“Two more minutes until we’re on the field!” At your alert, there’s another flurry of activity, everyone rushing to touch up their makeup or check their shoelaces.

Karina makes her way over to you immediately, stepping gingerly over pom poms and duffel bags left on the floor.

“Game day. You ready?” She asks, an excited glint in her eyes as she links both arms with you, a little tradition that the both of you started in your first year.

“As I’ll ever be,” you exhale out, smiling at her and hoping it comes out confident.

“You’re our captain. You’ll do great,” Ningning interjects, passing you your poms, which are thankfully, not damp from sweaty palms. Exhilaration is slowly bubbling up in you, pushing away the anxiety, and you find yourself bouncing on the balls of your feet.

And then there’s the loud blare of a horn, signifying the end of the opening ceremony.

“Hey, you guys ready?” The voice you hear this time is much lower, and you turn your head to see Jaemin, two red stripes painted horizontally across his face. He’s grinning widely when you turn to face him, and you feel strangely comforted by the sight of the bubbly jock.

“There’s my favourite cheerleader,” he says, and you let out a laugh despite your nerves, striding towards him. “Good luck with the game, Jaemin. You’ll crush it,” you tell him, and he shrugs nonchalantly, dripping with confidence.

“We’ll do even better if you guys put on the best performance of your lives.”

There’s a glimmer of pride in his eyes, one that grounds you and makes you feel a little more ready to go onto the pitch. It’s as much for you as it is for the rest of your team, and Jaemin’s as well.

“We will,” you promise, angling your chin to the side. Jaemin gets the hint, opening the door wide for you to follow him out, the rest of them behind you.

The cheers in the stadium are deafening, but you tune them out, instead choosing to focus on how white your sneakers are against the red track, or the pace of your breathing as you get into position.

In the few seconds before the music starts, you dart your head up quickly to the spectator stands, searching, before your eyes finally halt on a figure, dressed in a white shirt and jeans, bomber jacket over his shoulders.

You’d spot him in any crowd. From here, you can’t see all that clearly, but you can tell Donghyuck is smiling, cheering as loudly as he possibly can.

This time, when you start your first stunt, your feet land true.

It probably isn’t the best idea to confess that you barely understand the rules of rugby, considering that you are on the frontline of every single game.

Sure, Jaemin may be the quarterback, but you’re not particularly sure what that means besides the fact that he’s set the highest record for goals scored in a single season.

However, you’ve simplified the rules sufficiently: When the ball enters the in-goal area, you cheer. Which is exactly what you’re doing, jumping up and down excitedly when Jaemin gains another point right as the buzzer goes off, signifying the end of the match.

Ningning is hugging your shoulders tightly, as the both of you watch the team do a victory run, Jaemin and Jeno making their ways back to the spectator stand first.

“I know I’ve seen you on the field a hundred times, but that was amazing,” you gush, watching as Jaemin tilts his head, pleased.

“You know, now that the season is over-” he says, and you arch an eyebrow curiously. “Yes?”

“- you don’t have any more excuses to avoid confessing to Donghyuck,” he finishes, smiling mischievously when your cheeks redden. Jeno nods in encouragement, and you realise that you’ve been set up by the two jocks in front of you.

In an attempt for support, you turn towards Ningning, but she shrugs. “They’re right. Giselle’s ideas were good, but I don’t think they’ll work for someone like him. You just need to say it directly.”

Her words cause your shoulders to sink slightly, and Karina, who’s finally noticed the little gathering, leans in.

“Just do it, Y/N. You never know. Besides, Donghyuck cares for you. Even if he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, he would never just end the friendship that way.”

“But what if he does? What if he only wants us to be friends but has to distance himself because of my feelings and we become strangers?”

Jaemin frowns slightly. “That sounds awfully specific.”

His comment causes Ningning to roll her eyes, and she places her other hand on your shoulder, turning you towards her.

“Look at me. I know you’re a literature student, but stop projecting yourself onto characters.”

Your mouth gapes open at her words, ready with a retort, but she continues.

“The both of you are not Laurie and Jo. You are Y/N and Donghyuck, and everything will be fine.”

“Y/N and Donghyuck,” you repeat, almost dazed as you look at Ningning, fear slowly solidifying into something a little more like confidence. Y/N and Donghyuck. It’s the simplest way to explain the both of you, but the mention of it also causes a twinge of your heart.

Being with Donghyuck is easy, something that you’ve been doing for most of your life. But it doesn’t feel like enough, not yet.

You want to belong to him, and you want Donghyuck to be yours.

“Y/N.” The familiar voice causes your heart to seize, and you turn to face the man himself, eyes bright as he looks at you. Karina lets out a soft laugh at your captivated expression, but you don’t bother to turn towards her.

The only thing that you catch is Jaemin leaning closer towards you. “Go get him, Y/N,” he whispers conspiratorially, and you swallow nervously before finally crossing the distance between you and Donghyuck. He looks even more stunning up close, honey-toned skin illuminated under the bright stadium lights.

“Hey.” Your mouth feels dry when you say it, stopping a few feet away from him.

His mouth curves into a barely-there smirk, and your hands fiddle with the hem of your shirt nervously. “Ready to go?”

You nod, looping your arm through his and praying the motion comes off natural. Jaemin’s words are still ringing in your head, and you know the four of them are still staring unabashedly, but you shove them down in favour of basking in the moment. However, you can’t deny that you’re shifting closer and closer to saying fuck it and blurting out your feelings as each second ticks by.

It seems that rational thinking is harder to come by these days, especially when you’re with Donghyuck.

“Are you hungry? I ordered pizza already,” he tells you, and it makes you fall just a little bit more, the way he remembers the little things.

“Is it pepperoni?”

“Of course. With extra cheese. I know the way to your heart.”

He does. Donghyuck knows the way to your heart like he has a map, though you’re quite sure he could walk the metaphorical path blindfolded.

Or maybe the path is whichever way he steps. You’re not quite sure.

Donghyuck leads you towards the carpark, until he suddenly halts near the entrance of the stadium, expression changing from lighthearted to stone-faced. “Is something wrong?” You ask, brows furrowing in concern. But he remains silent, hesitating slightly before shrugging off his jacket.

“Wear this,” he instructs, but instead of placing it on your shoulders, Donghyuck ties it around your waist, fingers nimble. When he’s done, he looks up, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours, instead drifting further back and sharpening into a glare. You’ve never seen the boy angry before, and it isn’t directed at you.

“Donghyuck, what is it?” You look behind, only to be met with nothing but a view of the pitch. At your insistence, he scratches the back of his head, as if embarrassed at his sudden outburst. “It’s nothing,” he mumbles.

You make a pointed glance at the jacket around your waist, before glancing up at him, expectant. Donghyuck seems to realize he’s been backed into a corner, and hangs his head down slightly.

“It’s just-”

“Just what?”

“Some guys were looking at you,” he finally admits, and you suck in a breath out of surprise at his unexpected words. It’s not an unusual occurrence, considering you’re a cheerleader and there are always douchebags, even in your own school. You’ve been catcalled, wolf-whistled at - a few guys staring at your legs is barely anything, but you realise this is the first time Donghyuck is witnessing it firsthand, often not being on the pitch with you.

The protective gesture makes your heart skip a beat, however, and you decide it’s as good a time of any to get a gauge of Donghyuck’s feelings towards you.

“Were you jealous?” You quickly lean in as you pop the question, attempting to make your voice teasing to hide your true intentions. If anything, you’ll just brush it off as flirting between friends.

However, he remains silent, and the hope in your heart fizzles unstably as you wait for his response. When Donghyuck finally lifts his head, his eyes are hooded, filled with a dark intensity that makes your heart palpitate.

“And if I said I was?”

Your eyes widen imperceptibly at that, shifting backwards as Donghyuck takes a step closer, and another, until you feel your back press against his car, the cold metal forcing you to bite back a shiver. But Donghyuck only moves impossibly closer, until the tips of his scuffed boots are brushing your sneakers. A nervous laugh escapes you, eyes darting anywhere but him.

“You still haven’t responded to my question,” he points out, the corner of his mouth curled up as he looks at you, waiting.

You’re not sure if you’re even breathing, attempting to focus on anything except the boy right in front of you.

“Then- then I would ask you why,” you finally stutter out, and Donghyuck lets out an amused hum.

“Take a guess.”

You wonder if Donghyuck’s just teasing, or if he’s serious. If there’s even the slim possibility - any chance that he might feel the same way you do.

Because the way he’s looking at you now makes you feel brave. It makes you think that maybe, just maybe- you’ve found the path to his heart as well.

But you’re still scared, so you shake your head. “No. Tell me.”

You need to hear it from him, hear Donghyuck tell you that this isn’t just some pipe dream of yours.

He lets out a huff of amusement at your stubbornness. “Fine. I like you, L/N Y/N.”

The confession goes straight to your head, and you pinch yourself to make sure you aren’t dreaming. “Really?”

Donghyuck stares at you in disbelief. “Yes, really. Why do you think I got jealous? I don’t want you to be with Jaemin, or any other guy. I want you to be with me.”

You didn’t think it was possible for him to fluster you even more, but it seems you’re dead wrong, as your cheeks redden further and you tear your gaze away from him. “Oh,” you breathe out, and Donghyuck looks at you with equal parts exasperation and adoration.

“If you’re going to reject me, do it now,” he adds, voice light, but there’s a vulnerability on his face, evident even in the poor lighting. You realise that he’s likely been full of doubt, right up until this very moment - not too much unlike yourself.

You’d be a fool to give this chance up, and there’s nothing to lose, not anymore, when Donghyuck’s already confirmed your dreams and turned them into reality.

“I like you too. So, so much,” you finally exhale out, and his expression softens into something like relief.

“Good. I was starting to think you’d never look my way,” he mutters, and you look at him incredulously.

“Are you kidding? I even asked Giselle for-” your mouth falls shut just in time, but he catches on quickly, mischief glinting.

“Asked her for what, Y/N?”

At this point, you figure it’s better to tell Donghyuck yourself, than let him find out through the grapevine.

“How to get you to fall in love with me,” you force out, and he lifts an eyebrow in response. “Is that what you attempting to play Overwatch was?”

You glare at him, feeling caught. “No!”

“Okay, well, then how about the skating- wait. Was Jaemin in on this?” He narrows his eyes, and you shrink under his gaze, only proving him right.

You’re not even surprised anymore and how Donghyuck managed to decipher each of Giselle’s tactics exactly, and you’re starting to wonder why you even trusted the girl in the first place.

Still, if it got you here, you suppose you owe the girl a thank you.

“I was right. He was in on it. I can’t believe you of all people would agree to something like this-”

That’s it. You’re not sure if you can take the embarrassment of Donghyuck slowly dismantling your plan any more, so you make another irrational decision.

Tiptoeing, you press a soft kiss to the boy’s lips.

It seems to work for a few seconds, Donghyuck freezing up and looking at you in disbelief. “Can we not talk about that anymore?” you ask sweetly, and he nods instinctively, a dazed expression on his face.

“You just kissed me,” he points out, and you nod, head tilting to the side in confusion. “Yeah.”

“You just kissed me.”

“Lee Donghyuck, if you don’t stop repeating the same sentence-”

“Let’s do that again.” He doesn’t hesitate to cut you off, hands gripping onto your hips firmly and pulling you towards him.

If your kiss was a peck, Donghyuck is completely different, eagerly stealing the air from your lungs as his mouth slots gently over yours, tugging gently on your bottom lip.

For someone who’s never dated, he’s an insanely good kisser, and it thrills and terrifies you in equal measure.

Your hands make their way to his chest unconsciously, fisting in the cotton material of his shirt. But he doesn’t stop, and you gasp when his tongue brushes against yours briefly. It’s so very different from the best friend you know and love, the one who’s always bright and focused - the way he kisses you is unrestrained and messy, almost as if he can’t quite get enough of you.

Your brain is short-circuiting, only tuned in to the feeling of Donghyuck’s lips moving against your own. You’re well aware that anyone could interrupt and resign you to months of endless teasing, but you can’t seem to get yourself to care, or stop.

It seems like too short a time when Donghyuck finally allows you some air, his thumb caressing your cheek gently. Even then, he doesn’t make any move to distance himself, breath fanning over your face with every exhale.

“Does this…does this mean we’re a thing now?” you ask, only realizing how dumb your question is once it escapes. However, Donghyuck doesn’t seem to care, looking at you with an expression so fond that it makes you blush.

“Yes. I mean, if you want to. I know I do,” he replies quickly, and your heart feels so full that it might burst as you look at your best friend-turned-boyfriend.

“I’ve never wanted anything more.”

The months of October and November have affectionately been coined ‘break-up season’ by your entire school, owing to the sheer number of couples that fail to last under the pressure of academic expectations and the stress of final exams.

But if anything, the pursuit of the most important grades of your entire high school life has only brought you and Donghyuck closer, brief kisses shared in the library over textbooks and fingers intertwined whenever he’s sitting with you.

Call it trauma bonding, but it’s not as if you and Donghyuck haven’t been through dozens of other breakup seasons. It’s just a little more applicable now that the both of you are dating.

“Look, if I fail, I just won’t go to university. I’ll hone my other skills.”

You’re currently standing opposite Donghyuck in your bedroom, hands flung out to emphasise your point, and a bemused expression appears on his face at your words.

“You won’t fail, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but in the hypothetical situation that I do, I need to be ready to practise to be a trophy wife.”

“There’s practice for that?”

“Of course,” you reply earnestly. Donghyuck crosses his legs on your duvet, looking at you disbelievingly.

“Didn’t you see that one video? Of the computer engineer and his trophy wife. She’s retired at twenty-six, Donghyuck. It’s the dream.”

“Am I supposed to be the computer engineer?” he asks, and you nod eagerly.

“Does that mean you’re marrying me? You should have told me this was a proposal, Y/N. I would have prepared something,” he replies smoothly, tugging you closer to him by wrapping his fingers around your wrist.

Dating Donghyuck has only caused his flirtatious teasing to increase in intensity, and you’re not sure if your heart might just jump out of your chest one day from his actions. “You wish,” you retort weakly, giving in when he tugs you down to sit next to him.

“I do,” he replies, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your palm, and your eyes widen at his candidness. You drag your hands, and subsequently one of his, up to cover your face, embarrassed.

“You can’t just say things like that!”

“You’re the one who brought up being my trophy wife! What was I supposed to do, say no?”

You don’t reply, but Donghyuck’s stronger than you, eventually pulling your hands away by the wrists.

“In all seriousness, though, I mean it,” he says, looking at you insistently.

“But we’re still so young,” you mumble back. “We’ve barely graduated high school, and you’re saying this?”

“I’m not saying we should get married right now, obviously. I’m just saying that I’ve already spent most of my life with you-” he shifts slightly closer to you. “-what’s a few more decades?”

He asks the question earnestly, enunciating each and every syllable and allowing you to realise that he’s being perfectly honest - Donghyuck means every word. You’re suddenly gripped by longing as you look at him, taking in each and every one of the features that you have memorized by heart.

He’s so heartbreakingly beautiful, and he’s yours.

Student council president, physics nerd, gamer, budding musician - they’re all elements of Donghyuck that make him him, and every part is precious to you. There’s a sort of desperation that tugs at you, an unfamiliar feeling that doesn’t seem to make sense - you’re already dating him. What else could you possibly want?

Until the words appear in your mind, the realization dawning clear as day.

Like isn’t big enough of a word to encapsulate what you feel for Donghyuck, to represent the time you’ve spent with him. You’ve loved him since the first time he stood in your kitchen and attempted to bake a cake for your birthday, since he passed you your first Christmas present and gave you a kiss on your cheek when the both of you were seven, the moment immortalized in a photo frame above your bookshelf.

You’ve been head over heels for Donghyuck since he sat down on your bed and let you put face glitter along his cheekbones, or when he let you make an extra dish in Overcooked, even if it meant the both of you got fewer points. And you fall a little bit more each time he helps to massage your shoulders after practice, or when he kisses you with dizzying passion.

And you’re quite sure he knows you love him, from the way you remember the way he likes his ramen to having his favourite songs saved into your playlists. Or from how you’ve willingly watched Chicken Little with him, or made twenty pages of Languages notes for him to study before the exam. But you want to tell him, just because something about verbalizing it feels necessary.

Ningning might tease you for being a typical literature student, but you need to put your love for Donghyuck into words.

Which is why your voice doesn’t waver as you meet Donghyuck’s eyes, the warmth and adoration in his gaze reflected in yours.

“I love you, Donghyuck. You don’t have to say it back, of course, but I wanted you to know-”

He doesn’t say it back, but you get your answer when he kisses you again. It’s less hungry and more sweet, Donghyuck holding you as if you’re something fragile, something to be treasured.

You take the time to savour the moment, basking in the little bubble that he has created around the both of you. Even though your eyes are closed, you can feel Donghyuck smiling into the kiss, unable to hide his joy.

You never needed three ways to get Donghyuck to fall in love with you - he already had. All the both of you needed was a little bravery, that small push that would convince you to take the jump from friendship to romance.

“You look pretty like this,” he whispers, soft enough for only you to hear.

You’re not sure how to respond to that. Like anyone else, you have days where you feel like you look good, or times when Karina and Ningning are there to doll you up. But having Donghyuck call you pretty feels different, perhaps just because of how much he means to you.

“Thanks. You’re…pretty too,” you say absentmindedly, causing Donghyuck to huff a laugh.

“Really?” He asks, batting his eyelashes.

That earns Donghyuck a swat on his back, but you’re laughing as he falls back dramatically, pulling you down with him.

Just like that, the tender moment is broken, but you don’t mind it, not when he’s the one making you laugh.

“Today’s supposed to be movie night. What are we watching?” You ask, feeling the bed shift as Donghyuck turns to face you, resting his head on his hand.

“I was thinking The Notebook,” he suggests, and you try not to make your wince too obvious.

“But it’s so unrealistic.” Donghyuck lets out an affronted gasp at your words, pinching your side. “I will have you know The Notebook is one of the greatest romantic movies of all time-”

You shake your head resolutely, watching as his face falls. “Nope. Most definitely not,” you declare, and Donghyuck pouts slightly, head falling back onto the mattress. It takes a few moments of him staring at the ceiling before you hear a noise of amusement, and you can almost hear the wheels in his head turning.

“Did you think of something?” You ask, and when he faces you this time, his eyes are alight with mischief, mouth curled into a lazy smirk.

“We can do…other things.”

Your thoughts immediately drift haywire, and you look up at him, eyes wide. “Like what?”

“Like-” Donghyuck leans in tantalizingly close, the scent of his shampoo filling your nose, and his fingers brush over your lips just briefly.

“Kissing?” You respond reflexively, and his grin turns wider. “You suggested that, not me,” he retorts, but his eyes dart down towards your mouth anyways.

There isn’t any time for you to bite back a reply, before he finally closes the gap and connects your mouth with his. Donghyuck circles slow, lazy circles over your hipbone as he leans into you, and you place your hand on the nape of his neck to pull him closer.

When you push him away briefly for air, your cheeks are flushed, but Donghyuck looks just as affected as you are, hair messy from lying on the bed.

“I think we should scrap movie night. We can just do this instead,” he puts forth, and you nod eagerly, causing his grip on your waist to tighten.

“Sounds good to me.”

taglist (let me know if you would like to be added for my future works!) ♠ @hyucksdarling @tonicandjins @rosariafanaccount @sundamariis @smwhrinthehaze @renjunphile @loevngyuno @@doieslefttoe @jvjsssnaa @liliansun @pockyandme @haechoshi

this is so cute omg

fast times.

pairing: co-worker!donghyuck x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.6k

synopsis: throughout the snapshots of your life, lee donghyuck is always there. (or, you realize that you’re in love with the bane of your existence.)

author’s note: i started grad school and it’s literally eating me alive so i wanted to write something short and sweet to de-stress and then it ended up being almost 8k words 😭

warning(s): excessive drinking, family tension

playlist: fast times by sabrina carpenter ― the bottom by gracie abrams ―  stress by taeyeon ― ruin my life by zara larsson ― cruel summer by taylor swift 

ST. PATRICK’S DAY 2022  sun’s up too soon like daylight savings, mixed emotions are congregating 

Liquid courage, as the poets say.

Well, don’t fact check that, but surely Wordsworth or Coleridge or whichever poet that Taylor Swift talks about in the lakes mentioned something about getting shitfaced during a St. Patrick’s Day office party.

Regardless, you’re going to pretend like they did because it’s a lot less romantic (lowercase r, not capital like the movement) if you’re just drunk off your ass at an office party without an artsy-fartsy literary reference to back you up.

You’re one too many shots of tequila deep, swaying to the shitty techno music that someone is blasting from their pretentious Spotify playlist while stumbling past the office cubicles, including yours and He Who Shall Not Be Named’s, on your wobbly trip to the bathroom.

Despite the copious amounts of alcohol in your system, the remaining coherent part of your brain is sounding the alarms that you’re probably going to throw up soon. You wish that part of your brain would just shut the hell up because you don’t want to think rationally right now.

You don’t want to think about He Who Shall Not Be Named and how he’s in love with your best friend. You don’t want to think about how his eyes found her the moment she walked into the office, how his gaze melted into a pool of honey, his head swiveling towards every direction she went like a stupid bobblehead. Not that you blame him; everyone is in love with Karina. It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyways.

Ugh, see? You’re thinking about him again.

Anyways, you’re also grateful for that part of your brain because the poets definitely do not write about spewing chunks in front of your co-workers. You just want to hurl in peace and wallow in your misery with the porcelain toilet bowl by your side.

The poets probably wrote about that.

Keep reading

loved it omg🫶🫶

SCORE THAT GOAL! — smau

after your college had announced that all the students were required to join a club and attend it twice a week, you were planning on either a) dropping out, or b) join the art club and pretend to be sick most of the times. that was before you discovered that park jisung is a long time member of the football team. change in plans: you LOVE football.

or in which you mindlessly join the football club in hopes of catching your crush’s attention (and to maybe secretly check him out too) who cares if you can’t even kick a ball up in the air?

football-player!jisung x fem!reader

genre ; rlly just humour, football / sports au, fluff, some angst, pining and eventually mutual pining, probably slow-burn, college au, strangers to lovers.

extras ; teasing and profanity | sexual and death jokes | reader is down bad | jisung kinda dislikes reader and closed off at the start | my knowledge on football isn’t the BEST but i know above basics and enough for this fic | idrc if some of these subject clubs don’t exist this is for entertainment 😸

notes ; 😭 mostly posting this for myself cos i’ve wanted to try a smau for a while now but i hope anyone else enjoys too.

PLAYLIST ; Rising , TripleS — Hype Boy , newjeans — Awkward , SZA — Gasoline , ROSY (FT. LILMONEY) — Attracted To You , Pinkpantheress — Cognac Queen , Megan Thee Stallion — Goodie Bag , Still Woozy — Eyedress , Something About You .

STATUS ; completed! (24.02.24)

profiles (1) | profiles (2)

1 ) donghyuck’s fault

2 ) 20% more insane

3 ) it’s the voices again

4 ) yes captain!

5 ) invest in a priv account

6 ) peach lipton ice tea

7 ) no suicide EVER

8 ) always believe women

9 ) grape & lemon drink

10 ) favourite teammate

11 ) wingman

12 ) jeno’s food provider

13 ) no lunch

14 ) awkward tension

15 ) a simple conversation

16 ) an even more normal conversation

17 ) under my umbrella

18 ) a canon event (ft. Renjun's Black Friday offer)

19 ) feeling submissive and fragile

20 ) woman hobbies & failed courseworks

21 ) man up and break it

22 ) make-up brush vs subway sandwich

23 ) OFFICIAL FRIENDSHIP!!!

24 ) a nice gesture

25 ) NOT my boyfriend

26 ) business exchange

27 ) what about mark?

28 ) winter wonders with you

29 ) JISUNG vs MARK

30 ) my princess (very lame)

31 ) riddle me this

32 ) do you like her? (probably)

33 ) wtf does QUORA know?

34 ) JISUNGxY/N: plan A

35 ) evil out the way, GOOD RIDDANCE

36 ) basketball incidents.

37 ) JISUNGxY/N: plan B (the jisung quiz)

38 ) E-DATING 🔛🔝🔥

39 ) wise words from renjun

40 ) that one sign

41 ) guess it’s a date

42 ) (unofficial) couple goals

43 ) the y/nle argument

44 ) professional over-thinker

45 ) executing major girlboss energy

46 ) the confession prep

47 ) knock some sense into them

48 ) war is over

49 ) knock some sense into JISUNG

50 ) an overdue confession

51 ) be your boyfriend?

52 ) scored that goal!

BONUS:

jisung the blonde

JISUNG vs MARK pt.2

jaemin’s hit tweets

the jeno quiz

one huge polyamory relationship

thank you for reading!

lovelovelove

request #4 - himbo haechan

part 2! wc: 13.8k (yeah...) genre: fluff, smut (18+ minors dni), angst, himbo to fwb to lovers haechan warnings: mutual masturbation (kind of), sex over zoom call, softdom haechan and needy desperate haechan, mommy kink once, use of princess and angel and baby, fingering, unprotected fucking, overstim, haechan swears a lot, hair pulling, degradation/haechan likes pain and being humiliated, making love, nipple sucking, voice kink, thigh riding, haechan chokes and sucks on his own fingers, idk man a/n: i hope this is hot. i hope you feel this. i hope you like this. i don't know if this is my best work because i feel like the writing craft is so shoddy at times but idk... AS A PIONEERING HIMBO HAECHAN FIC, i hope this marks an important moment for the himbo haechan thinkers <3 thank you for waiting and thank you for supporting me. please let me know what you think and please be nice...

the first time you meet haechan, he doesn't exactly make a good impression. 

"what are you doing?" 

slowly, he lifts his head from where his lips were brushing your neck. "um…" blinking, his eyes refocus on yours. "trying to kiss you." 

"haechan!" you hiss. 

eyebrows raised, he beams back at you. "y/n!" he hisses back, imitating your tone. 

"i came here with someone else." you push his shoulder lightly, trying to make space between him and you but it's no use — his body slumps even harder, and you can see his eyes scanning your neck, zoning out of the conversation. 

"i know…" he mumbles, tracing a fingertip at your pulse point and making goosebumps erupt on your skin. 

"you do?" 

"yeah…" his other hand hovers in the air, as if he's deciding whether to grab your waist or press his palm to your lower back. 

"so you know i'm talking to someone right now, and it would be bad if i went around kissing my project partners...?" 

silence.

you dip your head slightly to try to look at him through his messy bangs, only to jolt slightly when you glimpse his expression. his eyes already half-lidded with lust, mouth hanging open and drool glistening on his plump lips. why did he look so…needy? fucked out? it had only been about a minute or so since you saw him walk towards you, the easy smile he kept on at full blast. you had exchanged small talk for about 10 seconds over your professor, and then he started nosing at the juncture between your jaw and your neck. 

"haechan?" you prompted, hesitantly. "everything okay?" 

"um...all's good," he mutters, before moving back towards you, lips puckered slightly and ready to mark your skin. 

spluttering, you push him away, again, confusion starting to settle in for you too. could he not take a hint? 

"were you even listening?" you ask, incredulously. "i said i'm talking to someone right now." 

"uh huh." he tilts his head to the side. "um, did you say something after that? sorry-" he breathes, wincing at the frustration on your face. "you just smell so good, i couldn't pay attention…" and as if he couldn't help himself, you noticed his body gravitate towards you, again. 

gripping onto his shoulder to keep him at a distance, you say slowly, "haechan, if i'm talking to someone, it wouldn't be good for me to mess around with other people." 

you see the words register in his head, see the furrow in his brow deepen as he ponders what you're saying. "it wouldn't?" 

"no, it wouldn't." 

"but you're not dating him yet." 

"no, i'm not." you see him open his mouth, so you quickly add, "but we're on our way, and i want to show him i'm serious about it." 

"but i'm serious about you." it was practically lazy – the way he pulled your hand off his shoulder and intertwined your fingers with his. 

you couldn't help the thrill that ran down your spine as you were reminded of how strong he was, even though he didn't necessarily look it. 

"serious about me or serious about fucking me?" you bite back. 

"both." 

you let out a scoff. unable to stop yourself, you blurt out, "are you used to women saying yes to you or something?"

"huh?"

"where do you get your confidence?" 

he raises his eyebrows at you in genuine concern as if you're the confused one in this conversation. "where do you think?" he makes a vague gesture to indicate his pretty face, and you're a little annoyed at how right he is. with heavy eye makeup, mismatched contact lenses giving his look a more piercing quality, moles tracing across his cheek just begging to be suckled with kisses and those heart-shaped lips…you think you would be hard pressed to find a woman in this room who would say no to his shameless flirting. 

"you shouldn't assume, haechan." something close to confidence begins to stir up in you, and you straighten, shaking your hand out of his. "it's not nice to kiss someone without asking them properly. you should always try to read the situation, and make sure you have consent." 

listening intently like a student in a classroom, he nods slowly to show he understands. "not nice, got it. anything else?" 

"don't try to steal people away from their dates," you add on, inspired.

"right."

"and don't say things like 'i'm serious about fucking you' if you don't really mean–" 

"-this is hot." he interrupts, words blurring together in a rush. his eyes unfocused and dreamy, he drags his gaze up and down your body indulgently. "you teaching me things." 

"hae-" 

"teaching me how to be a good boy…" he breathes. "yeah. fuck." 

your jaw drops, momentarily speechless. and yet, despite everything you were supposedly teaching him, his straightforwardness, the lack of filter, the raw desire that seemed to course through his entire body…you couldn't deny that it was making you feel a certain way too. 

fixing him with a look that conveyed as much seriousness and frustration you could muster, you shake your head.

 and he cowers. 

"sorry…" he mumbles, stepping away from you, almost ashamed. "i should've kept that to myself." 

you resist the urge to laugh. "yes, maybe you should have." 

turning to go, you pat him on the arm lightly, feeling a little bad for him. "see you around in class, okay?" 

he nods, eyes cast to the floor gloomily, and you're about to exit and head back to the main room when he calls your name. 

"y/n?"

"yes?" 

"i meant it." 

"what?" 

"i meant it when i said i was serious about fucking you." quietly, and with surprising gentleness, "i wouldn't lead you on like that. i wouldn't say it if i didn't mean it." 

and as you turn your back on the pretty boy in the hallway, you couldn't help the butterflies that seemed to burst into life in your chest at his words.

x

the second time you meet haechan, you're explaining your assignment to him in class, and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon.

the third time, he keeps up an endless stream of compliments for you as he walks you back to your apartment to get ready for your date (with heavy insinuations that he could treat you better, the entire time). 

after that, you sort of lose count. from a name told to you by your professor, to the boy who couldn't seem to stand without your help at the party, he slipped into your life with no intention of leaving. 

"i'm frustrated because i WANT to fuck you-" 

no intention of leaving, no intention of changing, at all. 

his words come out louder than you expect, ringing out in the silence of the library. he's practically raising his voice, the aggravation plain and clear as his words escalate in pitch. embarrassingly, people studying at the adjacent tables start to look over at you two, drawn by haechan's distinctive tone of voice, wondering what the campus resident himbo-heartthrob could be saying. 

and he's still talking.

interrupting him with a loud shushing sound, you grab his arm and haul him out of his seat. he stumbles a little over his steps as he follows you obediently out of the library, the rant momentarily cut off. 

the moment the two of you burst out of the library doors, he's seizing you by your arms, his expression eager and delighted. 

"my place? i don't think my roommate's home, and there's this toy i want-" 

"lee haechan." your jaw drops. you seem to be doing a lot of that when you're around him. 

breathless, his eyes shine with delight. "yeah?" 

you almost don't want to ask. "why do you think i dragged you out of the library?" 

"you're ready to fuck right now?" his expression falls when he finally reads yours, taking in your stony glare and the hard set of your jaw. "oh. i did something wrong, didn't it?"

"haechan…" you can't decide what to start with. 

"wait, i'm sorry-" he blurts out, letting go of you. "i shouldn't have grabbed you…"

"you shouldn't have raised your voice in a library!" 

"i'm SORRY-" gulping, he tries to make his voice smaller. "i just got really excited…" 

"when you are in small spaces, you use your 'inside voice', okay?" 

"my…" he gulps. "inside voice?" 

"your inside voice means a volume level only meant for you," you point. "and me, the person you are talking to." you point at yourself. 

"why?" 

"do you want the whole library to know you want to fuck me?" 

"i don't mind." a beat. "wait, fuck- wrong answer. no, i don't." he shakes his head firmly. "no." 

"exactly." you let out a breath. "so please, the next time you want to have this discussion, make sure you're not announcing it for the entire student population, okay?" 

he opens his mouth, but then quickly shuts it. a blush beginning to spread across his cheeks, he buries his face in his hands, sweater covering his palms up to his fingers. 

you sigh. "what is it, haechan?"

"i don't want to say," he whispers. 

"why?" 

"you'll get really angry at me." chastised, he bites his lip. and then, quieter, "i'm sorry i embarrassed you."

"welll…you didn't really embarrass me,” you mumble. "haechan…"

a muffled sound. 

"am i actually just being really mean to you? you can be honest-" you add, seeing something flicker in his eyes as he removes his hands from his face. "i won't get mad." 

"you're kind of mean…" he hesitates. "but i really like it. because i know it means you care about me." 

your heart warms. 

"and also because i find it really hot," he continues, unabashedly. "like…a part of me wants to push you until you freak out on me. but also the other part of me just wants to be good for you, you know?" 

you stare at him. his hair falling lazily on his forehead, a breathless and windswept look to him as if his own desire was physically stealing his breath away from his lungs. you'd noticed before how his eyes were always watery with some sort of emotion, his long lashes gently tangling and untangling, meeting his blushy skin. his pouty lips… forming your name. 

"fuck…i should have kept that to myself, right?" he tilts his head, blinking purposefully at you. "y/n?" 

you clear your throat. "it's fine." another pause, as you wonder how you can draw the conversation back to something less intimate, because the way he's looking at you — as if he wants to dive into your soul just by looking into your eyes, — was making you regret ever dragging him out of the library. "um…" sex. talk about sex. "so…you were going to use a toy for our first time together?" 

caught off guard, he gapes at you, trying to recall where he let slip his plans for the night. "i…" he blinks. "how did you know? did i tell you?"

he's adorable. pressing on, you try to bring back the tone of defiance in your voice. "couldn't make me cum all by yourself? are you really that unconfident?" 

from the way he's tonguing the inside of his cheek, you know you've successfully switched the tone. "princess…" his voice is slow and patronising. "don't talk about things you don't understand." you don't think you've ever heard him speak like that, cockiness dripping from every syllable. is this the haechan that everyone else knew? 

"i don't-" 

"i saw the way you were looking at me just now…" eyes fluttering, he slouches closer to you and you back away on instinct. the movement makes him smile. "you think i'm pretty, just like everyone else does, hm?" 

it takes everything in you to roll your eyes, stepping further away from him as if it would break the spell. "you're so full of yourself." 

"and you like it." at the look on your face, he backpedals instantly, the confidence draining from him in an instant as he adjusts his bag on his shoulders. "right…sorry. you're still seeing someone." he doesn't even try to hide the bitterness in his tone.  

a moment passes.

"let's just… go get dinner," you suggest, lightly. he nods distractedly, hooking a hand around your bag strap and lazily tugging it onto his shoulder, something he likes to do for you. 

the walk to the restaurant is only a few minutes, and it's only when you reach that he speaks up again. 

"y/n?" 

"yeah?" 

"he….he makes you happy, right?" 

"huh?"

"the guy you're seeing." he swallows, fingers curling tighter around your bag unconsciously. "you're happy with him, right?" 

biting your lip, you nod slowly. "i guess."

if he can sense your hesitance, he doesn't press — body relaxing considerably as he nods to himself too. "then that's all that matters." 

and he reaches over to hold the door open for you, face bright and happy again as he patiently waits for you to enter first. 

x

haechan, 11.00pm: i hope you got a kiss today  you, 11.00pm: what haechan, 11.01pm: idk you just looked really pretty today and i really wanted to kiss you you, 11.01pm: so that's why you were looking at me like that  haechan, 11.01pm: yeah but i can't kiss you so  haechan, 11.01pm: i hope you got a kiss somehow…

haechan, 11.12pm: so did you?  you, 11.12pm: did i what? haechan, 11.12pm: did you get a kiss  haechan, 11.12pm: WAIT  haechan, 11.12pm: don't tell me  haechan, 11.12pm: i'll get sad you, 11.12pm: okay haechan, 11.12pm: okay what?  you, 11.13pm: okay, i won't tell you haechan, 11.13pm: fuck  haechan, 11.13pm: i want you so bad… you, 11.13pm: HAECHAN  haechan, 11.13pm: TYPO sorry sorry  you, 11.13pm: you can't typo a whole phrase haechan, 11.13pm: yes you can… i just did…

x

for someone who doesn't always know what he's talking about, haechan loves to talk. a lot. 

"you're going to sleep? already?" even in the low quality image on your phone screen, you can see the crestfallen look on his face. 

"we both have an early class tomorrow." 

"we can take turns sleeping in that class…like we did last week…" 

accusatorily, you jab a finger at your phone camera, causing his nose to scrunch in alarm as if you were really there, backing away from his screen. "you slept for a whole two hours that time!" 

"i-" sulking, he rolls over on his side, face half smushed against the bed. "i'll do better this time." 

"we can always talk tomorrow," you soothe, getting comfortable in your own bed and holding up your phone a little higher so the angle didn't look so bad on videocall.

although it was ridiculous, you couldn't help but feel insecure at how pretty he looked all the time, even when it was 2 in the morning and his voice was low and scratchy, or when he just woke up and his hair stuck out in all sorts of ways…his eyes never stopped sparkling in the terribly endearing way, his skin looking soft under the warm lights of his room. 

"but i want to talk to you now…" he says, softly. 

"okay…what about?" 

"i don't know…" still in the same soft voice that drives you crazy, he blinks tiredly at his screen. "anything…i guess…" 

"um…what did you have for dinner?" 

you can't help but let out a laugh when he whines loudly in annoyance "i mean deep stuff. stuff you wouldn't tell anyone else." 

"you think of something then!"

"wait-" a look passes over his face, you can literally see the idea hitting him, the flickering of a lightbulb over his head: he sits up, animated, and starts pulling his laptop onto his lap. "give me a second." he's typing furiously on his keyboard, nose scrunched in concentration. 

"you don't even type this seriously in class," you accuse, half-heartedly. when he doesn't respond, you raise your voice a little. "haechan? what are you doing?" 

"nothing." he turns his attention back to the phone screen, and beams at you with a brightness that catches you off guard. "just had an assignment that i forgot to submit." 

"um…okay…"

"but i have my ideas for the questions now-" he continues, his words coming out rushed from the blatant excitement in his tone. "so let's start." 

"why are you so…eager?" suspicious, you narrow your eyes at him playfully. "are the questions sex-related? you perv…" 

"no," he shakes his head vehemently, "i swear, they're not. i just…" and suddenly he's shy, biting at his puffy lips, and even in the dim glow of the room you can see the flush in his cheeks. "i just want to get to know you more…" 

"okay…" 

"okay, let's start." he clears his throat.

 "given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?" 

"what the fuck?" you gape at him. out of all the things he could have asked you, there was no way you would have thought of this. "haechan, are you trying to get me to do some assignment for you?" 

"i'm genuinely curious-" he tries to defend himself, a hint of a whine making its way into his voice. "i mean, i can go first if you need more time to think…" 

"i don't think i've ever heard you use the word 'whom'." 

"now that's just mean…" pouting, his eyes go round and sad, and you can't tell if he's doing it on purpose, but when he nibbles on your lips you feel your breath catch in your throat. 

fuck. stumbling over your words, you rush, "uh…i can answer i guess." 

his eyes crinkle into a smile. "okay, who?" 

"um…probably that researcher guy who we're doing our assignment on. then i can just ask him all the questions and cite him as the source and we would be done."

"that's a good answer," he says, encouragingly. 

"okay…so who would you want as a dinner guest?" 

"you," he says, immediately. 

"haechan, this isn't going to be fun if your questions are all set up as lines…" 

"i'm serious…" and he is – there's no hint of any rehearsed expression on his face. "i only ever want to see you." and then, smiling, he shifts around happily on his seat on the bed. "okay! next question…" 

x

"what would constitute a perfect day for you?" 

"how many questions do you have?" 

"i don't know… i'm making these up as i go along," he shrugs. "so, what would constitute a perfect day for you?" 

you think about it, for a second. "i think my perfect day would be really simple, and everything would just go right. i would wake up early, there wouldn't be a queue at the cafe for breakfast, i get to class with my coffee-" 

"which class?" 

"uh… our class?" 

"okay, good," a small smile playing on his lips. "and then?" 

"and then…i can answer all your questions in class, and afterwards we go to the library and miraculously we can get something done…" you think back to a few evenings you've had where you've genuinely, really, been happy. "we get hotpot for dinner and we get a huge discount, and i go back home and fall asleep really easily." 

haechan is smiling so hard you want to ask him if his cheeks hurt. 

"what's so funny?" 

"it's funny…" he looks at you coyly. "that's my perfect day too." 

x

"number 10…" 

"motherfucker-" you sit up, startling haechan, who drops his phone. 

"wha-"

"you have a list of questions?" you wait for him to pick up his phone again before you point at the screen, savagely. you don't even have to look to know he's doing his cower again. "what happened to coming up with it as you go along? are these even your questions?" 

"y/n…" he shuffles around uncomfortably, picking at his bedspread. 

"how many questions are there in total?"

"36." his eyes widening, he backpedals. "actually, i don't know…um…it depends…" 

"i'm going to bed." 

"no we have to finish all 36 questions!" 

"we have to? why do we have to?" 

"please?" he looks up at you, and you should be used to it by now, used to the shifts in tone and the intensity of his emotions when his eyes meet yours, but still it makes your heart hammer a little harder every time. "please? i really just want to get to know you…" 

a pause. 

sighing, you lie back on your pillows again. "what's number 10?" 

x

"what roles do love and affection play in your life?" haechan lets out a yawn, rubbing his face against his comforter. 

the question wakes you up a little. you've kind of guessed that he was using a list of questions that would get increasingly intimate as they went on, but this one felt more direct than the others. and although so far you've been honest about everything, careless sometimes with your answer but never dishonest, you don't know how truthfully you should answer this time.

haechan blinks lazily at the screen. "um…" he rubs at his eyes, "i can go first. i think…love and affection are easy." 

the words feel like a punch to your gut. "really?" 

"yeah," he continues. "i mean, i'm affectionate with practically everyone i meet…and i'm not scared if i end up falling in love. i don't always know it when i'm in the moment…but i think i like how it feels," he adds, almost as an afterthought. 

"you like how what feels?" 

"being in love," he says, softly, looking at you with gentleness in his eyes. 

"but what if it doesn't end well?" you ask more for yourself than for him, and he answers as if it's the easiest thing in the world. 

"then it ends. but at least you were in love." tilting his head, he asks, "is it…not easy for you?" 

you can't find the words, so you shake your head. 

his brow furrows. "aren't you seeing someone right now?"

"yeah but i don't love him." he opens his mouth, so you add on quickly, "and he doesn't love me." 

"then you shouldn't be with him," he said, firmly.  things were always so simple when he outlined them. "you don't love each other, so you shouldn't waste your time together." 

"but he's not a bad person…" you have no idea why you're defending someone you don't even really care about. "he's generally nice to me…" 

"none of that matters if there's no love," he runs a hand through his hair, and that's when you realise that he's genuinely angry. "i didn't know you didn't love him. if i did, i would have talked to you about it ages ago…" 

"it's not so easy, haechan. it's not so easy to find someone who loves you back. sometimes, you just have to be grateful that someone is willing to spend time with you, grateful that they're not horrible-" 

he cuts you off with a frustrated sound. "i don't understand." rubbing his face with his hands, you hear him exhale shakily, the sound crackling in your earphones. 

"it's okay," you try to calm him, making your tone as light as possible. "these are just questions, right? we don't have to agree…" 

he settles down, but you can tell he's still lost in thought, his jaw clenched. "i guess." 

"which question are we on?" 

he checks his laptop screen. "21." 

"do you…want to keep going?" 

he nods, sighing one more time before focusing on you again. this time, you can tell he's managed to calm down, the gentleness returned to his demeanour. "i'm sorry. i'm really trying to understand what you mean, but maybe we're just different." 

"yeah…" affection and love did feel easy, even being friends with haechan. you think it's maybe become a part of your life that you couldn't live without — the little ways he took care of you, how he never hesitated to compliment you or defend you. "i want to be more like you, though." 

"huh?" 

"the thing about love and affection…" you mumble. "i want it to be as easy as it is for you." his eyes light up, and you hate how it immediately seems to lift a weight from your chest. 

x

it's strange that haechan's the one you turn to when things eventually fall apart. but at the same time, it makes perfect sense, because he's never once made you feel small for what you thought, or invalidated anything you've felt. 

you didn't even have to tell him. you had stumbled into class, numb from all your hurt, and the moment haechan raised his head to look at you, he just knew. 

"what's wrong?" he mouths, a look of pure fear in his eyes as he scans your surroundings, trying to figure out what could've done this to you. 

"i'll tell you later," you're barely able to whisper back as you slide into your seat next to him, eyes already filling with tears at how easy it was for haechan to read you. your heart warming from the urgency in his tone.

without hesitation, he leans over far in his seat to squeeze you into a hug. his lips ghosting over the crown of your hair, you can hear the worry in his voice even as he tries to reassure you. 

for the next 2 hours, he casts worried glances over at you, taking in the way you're barely listening, fingers ghosting over your keyboard and typing nothing. the lecture barely ends before he's reaching over to pack up for you, clumsy hands shuffling your papers into your folder the way he knows you like them, shouldering your backpack as he tugs you gently towards the door and out into the sun. 

he leads you to a quiet place on campus, and if you were a little less focused on yourself, you'd wonder if this was where he usually took his dates to kiss them. it's secluded and private, soft grass underneath your shoes as he guides you to a bench under a tree, sliding into a seat next to you and taking your hand in his immediately. 

on one of your study sessions together, the two of you had taken a love language quiz, and it was no surprise when his top love language showed up as physical touch, while yours showed up as words of affirmation. 

tears are slipping down your cheeks, and he pulls you into his arms — a gesture more for him than you but you melt into his touch all the same. his palms clumsily pat between your shoulder blades, his touch heavy as he strokes down your spine, rubbing at your shoulders as you try to stop from shaking. 

"do you want to talk about it?" he murmurs, eyes wide and concerned.

briefly, you consider not telling him, the thought of having to materialise everything with your words too painful to bear. but his voice was so gentle, his touch so soothing, that you feel he at least deserved to know why you were crying in his arms like this. 

"h-he took me to the party to make her jealous." 

his movements still. 

"i knew we didn't love each other…but i thought…i thought at least…he must've liked something in me, right?" 

he's at a loss for words as you cry harder into his shirt. 

"you don't have to say anything…" you reassure him. "i know it's stupid. i didn't even like him anyway, it just hurts my pride to think he never saw anything in me." 

"it's not stupid," he says, firmly. "you rejected me at that party for him, right? you've been rejecting me for weeks because of him." 

you nod into his chest. 

"you're not stupid." he declares. "he's the one who's wrong." and there it is again — the simplicity, the way everything was black and white with him. he was completely and wholly on your side, his hand diligently going back to stroke your hair, dipping his fingers to rub circles into the nape of your neck. 

"i'm surprised you're not being inappropriate right now." 

he doesn't respond at first, but his movements falter again. 

"i just really don't like seeing you hurt," he says, quietly. 

"oh." 

"wait, don't get me wrong, i think you look very pretty when you cry," he adds, sincerely. it makes you laugh, a little bit of the haechan you first met coming back. but he mistakes it for disbelief, tripping over his words to make you understand, raising his voice. "you really are, and you sound so pretty too-" 

wrapping your arms around his middle, you lean into his touch, smiling into the fabric of his shirt. "thanks, haechan." 

"it's just that…i don't like thinking that someone made you feel like this. it makes me feel…" his palm moves down to hold the side of your face delicately, fingers moving over your cheeks as he chooses his words. "it makes me feel really helpless. it reminds me i can't stop people from hurting you." 

his voice is small, and you can barely catch his words, but you feel like you've been slammed in the chest. you hesitate, wondering if you should press him further.

"why?" 

"what do you mean?" 

"why does it make you feel helpless?" 

he huffs, frustrated. "because it does." 

he runs a hand through his hair as he rambles on. "i don't know why i don't like seeing you hurt. or why i don't like the idea of your shoulders being sore like mine are so i carry your things around for you everywhere. i don't know why i want to mark your neck but i don't ever want to see you bruised, or how i want to fuck you so badly, but also sometimes i get this feeling like… like i don't want to fuck you, i just –" he cuts himself off with a groan, tugging at his long hair desperately.

you don't reply. you can't trust your voice. 

so you ease yourself out of his hold, which had gotten increasingly tight. with a hand, you guide his hands down from his hair and into yours, and bring your other palm up to touch his face. he goes limp at your touch, leaning into you like you were the only thing keeping him upright.

"why am i telling you this?" he whispers, eyes never leaving yours. 

"haechan-"

"you must think i'm pathetic." you feel his tears on your hand, hot and wet, before his breathing starts to pick up and soft whimpers rise from his throat. 

"don't say that." 

"i mean you," he gasps, words coming out in stuttered sounds. "y-you were the one who needed me to c-comfort you, and n-now i'm the one crying, and i…" he lets out a low sound, emotions overwhelming him all at once. "i really want to hurt the guy who made you feel like that." 

"haechan…" 

"where does he live? it'll only take 5 minutes i swear…" he swallows, hard. "i could take him in a fight, i saw him at the party…" 

"you're not going to get reported to campus police for him. he's not worth it." but you can tell your words are getting lost on him, his hands shaking as he fumbles them out of your grip, trying to intertwine your fingers. 

"i just need to do s-something right now," he breathes, hard. "anything. it hurts so bad, y/n. why does it hurt so much for me?" 

something about this — about him, calms you. the pain from before fading into a dull ache, and a new feeling swelling in your chest as you look at the boy in front of you. the feeling of being needed by someone grounding you, affection roaring in your ears as he leans into your touch, watching you like he was trying to decipher the thoughts buzzing like static in your mind. 

"take me home, haechan." 

he blinks up at you. 

"i want to go home," you whisper. 

and, drawing you into his arms, he does exactly that. 

he picks up your favourite ice cream on the drive home, and stays glued to your back on the elevator ride up. coddling you and cooing praises in your ear, tucking you into bed and drawing up a chair next to you as if you were ill. you ignore the fact that this was the first time you were indulging in his touch and it felt so right, the fact that he cried just because you did, for reasons he claimed not to know and you didn't want to admit. 

but as you watched him move around in your kitchen, putting away dishes from the dinner he made you — his broad frame stretching out his shirt, shoulder blades sharp under the warm light, you were met with the sinking feeling that the boy who was just out to fuck you might be out for something far worse.  

x

"i'm not setting you up with him," haechan's words come out in a blur. "okay? we're just walking to the party together." 

"yes, i'm aware of that. how many more times are you going to repeat this to me?" 

"haechan, why are you still hiding me behind your back?" 

"this is NOT a set-up!" he hisses, veins in his arms popping out as he keeps a firm grip on his friend, you presume, keeping him out of your sight. "i do NOT want you to like him, okay?" 

"okay haechan, i get it."

he looks at you, suspicious, but finally releases his hold, arms crossing over his chest instead as he scowls. "fine. y/n, this is my friend renjun." 

looking a little dishevelled, and very annoyed, renjun steps out from behind haechan. "hey." his face breaks into a sweet smile when he sees you, eyes brightening with recognition. "wait…were you in that statistics course from last semester?" 

"yeah i was! were you the one who did the project on social psychology? i thought it was so smart…"

"i had a lot of help with it," he beams back. "actually, i have more resources on the topic if you'd like them." 

"SHE DOESN'T WANT TO FUCK YOU." 

haechan's voice abruptly booms out in the middle of the street, making you and renjun jump. the handful of people passing by turn their heads to look at your trio, making shame burn low in your stomach as you wince apologetically. haechan's face is flushed, hands curled into fists by his side, a glare fixed upon renjun as if he were his worst enemy.

"haechan!" you whisper, annoyed. "did we not practice using our inside voice?" 

"fuck the inner voice!" he hisses back at you with equal venom, tugging you closer to him and away from renjun. his face screwed up, he jabs a finger at him. "she's not gonna fuck you dude. lay off her." 

renjun is looking back and forth between you and haechan, a knowing look settling onto his face as he meets haechan's frown with an easy smile. 

"don't worry about it, man. she's all yours." 

"yeah, that's right, she's mine," haechan repeats, savagely, before the words coming out of his mouth seem to take him by surprise. confused, he looks over at you, trying to figure out what exactly he just said. "wait…fuck i mean…um…"

"you know what? i'm going to go ahead first," renjun interrupts, giving you a small wave. "see you at  jaemin's."

"YEAH, GO AWAY RENJUN." 

"sorry," you mumble, now trying to free yourself from haechan's tight grip on your arm which he doesn't even seem to be aware of. 

"word of advice," renjun mutters to you, pointedly ignoring the way haechan was hissing at him. "pull on his hair. it shuts him up real fast." 

it's when you finally manage to pry his fingers off of you when haechan is brought back down to earth, throwing a venomous look at renjun's retreating back as he lets go of you reluctantly. 

you round on him. "well?" 

"w-well what?" he mumbles, looking away, acting out a textbook portrayal of guilty.  

you narrow your eyes at him, and some part of you is happy to see him gulp in fear like he usually does. "what do you have to say for yourself?" 

"i'm not the problem here," he mutters. "it's renjun. he's such a sleaze."

"renjun? a sleaze?" you laugh before you can stop yourself. "you're more of a sleaze than he is on a regular day." 

"ME?" he bursts out, head snapping to you. at least this time, the people in your vicinity seem to be used to the outbursts, and they don't bother to turn to look. "I'M NOT…that's not…" and then he's whipping out his phone, biting his lip in concentration, eyebrows drawn close together as he scrolls through whatever's he's looking at.

you sigh. "haechan, what are you doing?" 

"immoral…corrupt…sordid…" he raises his voice again. "fuck google definitions. why is it that none of these words mean what i think sleaze means?" 

"could you not change the subject?" you start, but he talks over you. 

"yeah," he emphasises, viciously. "you're right. see, i just wanted to expand your social circle, it's not my fault renjun was making eyes at you," 

"he wasn't-" 

"he was about to invite you over,"

"did you hallucinate-"

"that's so…so insensitive, like couldn't he just take a hint? and you were wearing your fuck-me skirt today-"

"i do NOT have a fuck-me skirt-"

"no it's a fuck haechan skirt that's what it is, because whenever i see you in it i-"

"will you shut up?" annoyed, you reach around to the back of his neck, and tug harshly on his long hair, really hoping to make it hurt. 

you expect him to stop talking, maybe cry out in pain. 

you're not expecting his knees go weak as he lets out an achy, high-pitched moan that shudders through his entire body.

x

"hey, haechan's quiet today!" jaemin points out, cheerfully. "y/n, could you pass me the pepper?" 

putting on a smile, you pass the shaker over to him. "we had an argument on the way here, that's probably why." 

"you two should fight more," jaemin says, before taking a sip of his soup. "dinner's almost over and he's barely made a sound."

renjun just smiles to himself.

"what. the fuck." 

haechan's still gasping for breath, and when you raise your hand absentmindedly, his arms shoot up quickly to protect his head. "don't-!" 

"i'm not going to do it again." 

"okay good." his arms fall to his side, before he's looking at you with a mixture of sadness and wistfulness. "wait…like…never?" 

you narrow your eyes. 

"y/n, can you come with me please?" haechan is looking at you urgently, leg bouncing as he tugs on your sleeve. "i want to talk to you in private." 

sighing, you excuse yourself from the table, letting haechan tug you away from the living room and into what looks like an empty guest room.

clicking the door shut, he sits down on the bed, patting the space next to him impatiently to get you to join him. 

"what's wrong?" 

"i want to ask you something." there's a sincerity in the way he reaches takes your hand, his voice steady, and calm, and sure. 

"okay…" 

"i've been good this past week, right?" he watches your face closely, looking for an answer. "like…i wanted to show you i care, and i wanted to take care of you and help you forget…your breakup…" 

"you've been really good to me, haechan," you affirm quietly. because he has. 

"and i've kept my thoughts to myself," he adds. "because…you told me to do that…" 

"yeah."

"do you…" he struggles with the words. "do you want me to keep…keeping my thoughts to myself? like, does it make you really uncomfortable…" he looks like he's in physical pain, brows furrowed in concentration.

"no, it doesn't…" you admit, feeling a little exposed. 

"what about…so if…" he twists at his fingers. "so if i…made a move…like the first time we met at the party…would you…?" 

"i think i would." looking away, feeling that the room was suddenly burning hot, you mumble out, "so you don't have to worry about holding back or-"

"-good, because i've been hard ever since you pulled on my hair." 

he's getting that look again, lips parted and swollen. he slides a hand around your waist, the weight of his body leaning on yours feeling all too familiar. only this time, there was no one and nothing you could put between yourself and the raw need that was in every fibre of his being. always brutally honest about how much he wanted you, looking at you with eyes that could swallow you whole. and now that there was no one else, you were free falling right into him.

your voice is scratchy with nerves. "do you want me to do it again?" 

"to be very honest, it kind of kills the mood when you ask," he mumbles, now pressing the pads of his fingers under your shirt and into your soft skin. 

laughing, you slide your hands up his neck and into his hair again, relishing in the way his body tenses and his breaths start to come shallow and fast. curling your fingers around the strands, you pull on them softly, increasing in pressure as he throws his head back. 

"fuck," he pants, hands moving quickly now, tugging at the hem of your shirt. "wanted this since the day i saw you." 

well at least he's honest. hesitating slightly, you grasp his wrists gently to stop his movements. "haechan…you know this is me giving you permission right?" 

"huh?" his eyes cloudy, he struggles slightly against you, hands still trying to reach for your skin. "i mean…yeah…"

"so after this, we'll figure something out?" you look at him hopefully, trying to meet his eyes which were currently darting around, scanning your body haphazardly. until you let out a gasp, because somehow he's overpowered you — pushing you onto the bed roughly, his hands now gripping your wrists and holding them above your head with one hand, the other resting heavy on your hip. 

"you talk too much," he says, lowly. swiftly pressing his lips to the side of your neck, he bites down on your shoulder next, and you hiss at the sting. in retaliation, you manage to release one of your hands from his grip, giving his hair a sharp tug — making him rut his hips into yours. 

"me? what about you?" you tease, breathless as he grinds into you, "with all your talk…all your thoughts, i kind of expected more…but you're whining and we've barely touched."

at that, he stills. 

he still has you pinned down by his weight on your torso, and above you, you can see the way his eyes darken, wheels in his head turning. 

"you're right," he says, quietly. releasing your hands, he crawls off of you to kneel on the bed by your feet, rough hands pulling at his belt. 

"r-right…about what?" now he wasn't lying on you, you felt a coldness travel through your body, making you crave his touch. sitting up to look at him, you swallow as he kicks off his pants. 

he wasn't lying about being hard. his cock looked thick and heavy in his palm as he squeezed his shaft, letting out a sigh. 

"haechan, what are you doing…?"

spitting in his hand, he starts tugging at his cock, slow and teasing strokes as he shifts his hips around in pleasure, settling his weight back on his heels as he hums. 

you place your hands on his thighs, shifting towards him, but with a speed and agility you rarely saw he grabbed both your wrists in his free hand, holding on to them tightly so you couldn't shake free. "you don't get to touch," he gasps, another moan ripping from his throat as his fingers press into his slit. 

"haechan," alarmed, you try to crawl over to him but his grip on your wrists holds you at a distance, pushing you back. the sounds he's making go straight to your core, high-pitched moans, drawn out and achy, gulping gasps of air between each one as if he was struggling to breathe. his hand speeding up, moving like a blur, swivelling his wrist and thumbing at a spot just below the blunt pink tip. precum dribbling out all over his hand as he starts to thrust his hips into the circle of his fist. 

"please," you rub your thighs together, pain and pressure building up in your core. his eyes, half-lidded and sultry, slide over to you almost lazily. 

"wait your turn, princess," he groans, mocking you with a whiny "ah…ah-" at the end. 

you're so frustrated you could cry. 

his whines and whimpers escalate in pitch, broken gasps and pants filling the air, and you can't wait for him to cum so it'll be your turn…

except suddenly he's letting go of his cock, a groan rumbling through his chest as it slaps up against his lower belly. 

a beat.

"did you like the show?" 

"you didn't cum," you mumble, dumbly. 

"i didn't think you deserved to see that yet." he releases your wrists. "see, that was your punishment." 

"for?" 

"for rejecting me for over a month even though i knew you wanted it." effortlessly pulling you into his lap, he smiles as he guides a hand under your skirt, rubbing your inner thigh with his sticky fingers. "sometimes when you look at me…i just know you're dripping wet in your panties."

"i'm not-"

"should we check?" he pulls at the seat of your panties, swiping his fingers on your folds. your thighs clamp shut on his hands, sensitive, and he laughs. "thought so." 

he traces light touches on your clit, alternating between rubbing circles and stroking gently. he brushes his fingers over your entrance and you crumble, grinding into his hand as you try to manoeuvre your hips closer to where his cock lies against his tummy. 

"so cute," he murmurs, pushing a careful finger into you, smiling to himself when you let out a soft moan. stroking against your walls, he adds another, starting to stretch you out as you rock your hips into his. his nose nuzzles at your neck, and you discover that all those times he's spent analysing the juncture between your jaw and your shoulder have paid off, because he finds your sweet spot in record time, his puffy lips mumbling against your skin and making you shake all over. 

"you're going to have to be a little quieter, baby," he says, gently. "don't want them hearing you outside." he adds another finger, humming delightedly at how you suck them in. 

"you-" you gasp, "but you were so, fuck, loud just now…"

"i don't care if they hear me." he starts fucking his fingers into you, thrusting them in and out of your core with loud wet sounds, his thumb applying pressure to your clit that makes your thighs tremble. "i know i sound good. you should record me next time, baby." 

your brain has gone foggy. this is the haechan that still pushed at the pull door to your lecture hall, the one you've been going to for almost half a year. this is the haechan who hid behind his hands when you would get mad at him, then would beg for you to keep going, i'm memorising this for later. 

this was the haechan…who was currently moaning softly in your ear, a sound so saturated with lust that it takes your breath away, and makes you release all over his hand. 

x

as it turns out, haechan isn't really into edging unless he wants to make a point. 

he's far more interested in overstimulation, as he makes you cum 3 times on the guest room bed. and he cums twice himself from fucking you. 

with intense concentration, he cleans up for you and tucks you into bed, worried eyes making sure you're okay. when he watches the way you walk, unsteadily, to turn off the light, he slides to his knees and freckles kisses all over your thighs and hips, murmuring apologies into your skin, torn between gloating and grovelling. 

"jaemin's okay with us staying," he whispers into the dark. and then, with unfiltered dreamy happiness… "i'm so happy i'm going to wake up next to you tomorrow."

your heart melts and dissolves as you reach for him, nuzzling into his chest. it's because you're so close that you hear the rumble of his sigh through his chest. "haechan?"

"hm?" 

"i don't want to confuse you…" 

pause. and then, quietly, "you always say that before you confuse me."

you sit up, his arms falling to your waist. 

"haechan…" 

"you look like an angel," he looks at you through his lashes, doll-like features pretty in the moonlight. when he realises he's caught you off guard, he continues, his drowsy, honeyed voice low and soothing, hypnotic as he appeals to you. "go to sleep, angel. i'll fuck you awake in the morning, i promise…" 

"don't try to seduce me, haechan. i want to talk about this." 

"worth a shot," he mumbles. "look, i don't know if you think i'm joking when i tell you i want you," his eyes flicker to the sheets as he tries to outline his thoughts. "but i already promised since day 1 that i wasn't leading you on." he sighs when you still look unconvinced.

"tell me what you're thinking, angel." he reaches for your hand, and presses a small kiss on your palm, guiding your fingers to cup his face. "give me a hint."

"question 21," you remind him. 

love and affection. understanding blooms on his face.

"what about it?" 

"i'm scared," you confess. 

"what are you scared of, angel?" he tilts his face to the side but his eyes never leave yours. "you want me, and i…and i…" he sits up a little so he can pull you down to him. you think you kissed him just now, but this one feels like the first time — his mouth moving gently on yours, suckling on your lip, his tongue gently slipping into your mouth, and the light sigh he lets out like he just tasted something sweet. he kisses you like he's just realised he has all the time in the world to, with no urgency, only the sweet indulgence of a boy who finally has what he wants right in his arms. 

"don't be scared," he whispers into your mouth when you break apart. "i'm serious about you."

"serious about me or serious about fucking me?" you ask, timidly. 

haechan looks up at you, the angel in his bed, and takes in the tension in your shoulders, the way you're holding your breath. 

if haechan was bad at homework, bad at assignments and impressing his professors, bad at reading the room and keeping his voice under control, there were things he was good at from experience. 

like how to tilt his face to showcase the pretty moles on his skin, how to pitch his voice like it was straight out of a filthy dream, and how to read people's body language to know what they wanted. how to read you.

"serious about whatever you're ready for," he says, gently. "affection, or love."

a moment passes. then another. then another. 

"haechan?" 

"yes?" 

"were you serious about fucking me awake tomorrow morning?"

x

"haechan, this is really, really bad." 

"i know." he exhales shakily, the sound amplified through your laptop speakers. "fuck, shit, i know." 

leaning forward to look at your laptop screen, you swipe back to the open tab you have of the document for your project. "how did you delete everything? and why can't it be restored?" 

"i don't-" a muffled choking sound. "i don't know." 

"i don't even want to tell you to stop crying," you say bitterly. "cry harder. it won't fix this." 

a strangled sound, barely audible over the music playing on his end. 

you swipe back to your zoom call with haechan. ever since you started giving in to haechan's relentless begging, it's been a lot harder for both of you to focus on your assignment. 

specifically, the number of times he's fingered you in the library or fucked you on his lap in his desk chair were now too many to count. 

so you've resorted to meeting up over video-call, using your laptops to provide a greater sense of occasion and to make it clear that these were meetings to do work. so far, they've been working out fine, but today he joined the call with his camera turned off, and only a guilty, shaking, voice told you to check the google drive, and please don't be mad. 

"so?" you don't bother to hide your anger, or to coddle him like you usually would. "are you going to fix this?" 

"dunno…" he gasps, whimpering when you roll your eyes. "dunno…fuck…dunno how…"

you tilt your webcam so you can really look into it, hoping that it's making him feel worse. judging by the wail he lets out, it does. 

"turn on your camera so i can see you," you snap. "and turn off the music. i want to hear you cry."

a muffled, guttural, sound. 

"really?" he sniffles, a loud sob crackling like static out of your speakers. "you w-want to…t-to see me…c-cry?" 

"don't play mind games with me, lee haechan," you warn. "i'm really fucking mad at you." 

"y-yeah?" he gulps, and you can hear it. 

"i'm so mad i could hit you right now." and you hear a sound of pain, a strangled cry ripping from his throat. 

"i wannit," he groans. "want you to hit me."

"forgot you were a masochist," you grumble, sarcastically. "how are you still in the mood to make jokes like that when we're going to fail?" 

he's panting, and a part of you starts to worry. is he hyperventilating? "i dunno, i'm sorry-" he gasps, voice raising in pitch. 

"haechan?" the anger hasn't completely faded from your voice. you're met with a hiccup, cut off by a wracking sob. switching tact, you make your voice go gentle, babying him the way you usually do to get him to do anything right. "turn off the music and turn on the camera for me."

he's still breathing heavily as you hear the sounds of fumbling, his phone falling to the floor as it disconnects from his speaker. silence fills the call, a tension so thick in the air as he pants into his microphone, and you hear his hands skid across the keyboard. 

you freeze when he turns on the camera. 

the background is different from your usual work calls. you see the headboard of his bed, an array of pillows propped up behind him as he slouches against them. but unlike your usual late-night calls, the laptop isn't balanced on his knees so that you can only see his face. 

its on the bed between his legs, giving you a full picture of his tear streaked face, the beautiful skin of his upper body, the jumping muscles in his thighs, and his thick weeping cock held in his veiny fist. 

he moans when he sees himself on camera, resuming his movements and watching himself carefully through tear-soaked eyelashes. 

"what the fuck?" you whisper, and he lets out a whiny sob, hand moving faster over his length. 

"what the hell is wrong with you?" your voice grows stronger as you watch his other hand close around his neck, choking back his sounds. "what the fuck?" his hand is dragging up his neck, he's slipping his fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, drool dripping down his wrist. "lee haechan!" you press your thighs together, trying not to let the scene get to you, but it was no use.

"love it when you-" he gasps, hips bucking into his hand. "get mad at me. i told you…ah, ah…you're so fucking hot when you're mad." he wipes the drool off his chin messily, and reaches down to stroke himself with both hands. 

"you're unbelievable," you snap, feeling your own hands drift to your thighs.

"and i…and i kept this thought to myself…" he moans, hand ghosting over his nipple as he whimpers. "but i always thought you looked like a camgirl when we call like this."

"yeah?" fuck it. you give in, crossing over to your bed. feigning indifference, you place the laptop on your sheets in front of you as you settle down and shrug off your sweatpants, grateful you had chosen to wear the white lace panties he liked. 

"mmhm," he hasn't noticed you yet, his head thrown back and eyes closed. "i came when you tilted the camera down…wanted see your tits so bad…" 

"if i was a camgirl, would you watch?" you slip your hand into your panties and let out a sigh, watching his cock twitch in his palm. missing the weight of it in your hand, on your thigh, and in you. 

"fuck yeah." 

"then why aren't you watching, baby?"

he moves so fast it's almost comical — eyes shooting open, he straightens to look at his laptop screen. the moment he sees you with your hand between your legs, panties so wet they were transparent, he cums, hard, thick globs of white cum oozing out of his tip as his legs tremble and a fresh wave of tears roll down his cheeks, his mouth falling open as he lets out a series of moans reminiscent of the filthiest hentai porn. 

"was that your second time, hm?" you moan, the sight of him making you rub against your clit even faster, your hips rocking into your hand. 

"third," he squeezes his cock again, pain darting across his face as he releases it, letting it soften against his thigh. "y/n… take them off please…"

"take what off?" you push a finger into you, sliding your other hand up your top to graze your nipples under your camisole. he whimpers at the sight. 

"everything…" his eyes cloudy and desperate, his cheeks flushed so read you'd be worried he was running a fever. "wanna see you…" 

you're focused completely on your own pleasure, your heart soaring to see him so completely fucked out before you. 

"haechan…" you try to keep your voice under control, try to hide that you were close. you just wanted to see how far he'd go. "if you're my baby boy, then what should you call me?" you pinch your nipples, letting out a gasp. the sheets feel silky against your skin as your legs kick in pleasure, your hand still working in between your legs.

haechan's breathing picks up. when you look down at your screen, he's touching himself again, squeezing the base of his cock. his mouth falls open as you see his lashes flutter, rolling back into his head as he mouths the words. 

whimpering, his lip wobbles as he looks at you on the screen. 

"mommy," he moans, again and again, until you both climax, and you're no longer sure if he's saying it for you or himself.

x

haechan takes your words to heart. like, he really takes your words to heart. 

when you tell him off-handedly that leather jackets look good on him, he buys 3 of the same and never wears any other jacket again. when you painstakingly teach him how to add a footnote to his document, he scrawls the steps down on a post-it and nudges you for validation each time he finishes a page, blinking at you like a puppy needing a treat. which is why he treats his rom-com watching sessions with you very seriously. 

"so it's bad that he didn't ask her out properly?" 

"yes," you nod, enthusiastically. "really bad. he shouldn't assume that she's interested and just act like he has a place in her life now — he has to earn it." 

"right, yeah, fuck him," he growls, scrawling on his notebook. 

you peek over at what he's doing — he's added 'not officially asking her out' on the 'no' list. 

"are you sure the double negative won't confuse you?" 

"the what?"

"nevermind." 

reaching for the popcorn, you peer at the screen. "oh, and that's a good thing." 

"where?" his head shoots up, and he squints at the screen. "what?" 

"see, he asked 'can i kiss you'?' playfully, you glare at him. "you rarely ask for anything." 

"that's not true…" he grumbles. "i asked you if i was making you uncomfortable…" 

"yeah, that was one time…" 

"i asked if i could eat you out last wednesday…" 

"that wasn't asking that was sweet-talking." 

"well can we fuck now?" he blurts out. running a hand through his hair, he tosses his notebook to the side. 

a pause. 

"well?" he raises his eyebrows. 

"uh, okay…"

"was that asking or sweet-talking? oh-" and for some reason, he blushes when he registers your response. "you said yes." 

fuck. "yeah, i guess." you place the popcorn down on the bedside table, feeling shy.

"well, as you wish, princess," he whispers conspiratorially, crawling over to you to pull you in for a kiss. 

"see," you mumble against his lips. "you didn't ask…"

"oh, fuck, yeah sorry." breaking away from you, he wipes his lips on the back of his hand. "re-do, re-do. um…" he lowers his head. 

"okay you don't have to re-do it i was just pointing it out…" 

"can i kiss you, angel?" 

you freeze.

he really was too pretty for his own good, his hair falling over his eyes, the ethereal flush to his cheeks. 

"yes, please," you mumble, and he surges towards you, pressing his tongue into yours and running his electric touch down your spine. 

"can i take your clothes off, angel?" 

you murmur your consent as he smiles wide, helping you out of your clothes but lightly slapping your hands away when you reach to do your bra. 

"this is my favourite part," he sighs, as he unhooks the clasps from behind your back, hooking a careless finger around a strap and pulling the lacy piece off of you, wetting his lips when he sees your breasts. 

"can i suck on your boobs?" 

"god, haechan-" he giggles as he takes one in his mouth, teeth lightly grazing on it from his smile. his hand comes up to the other one and he ghosts his touch over it, before deciding better and squeezing it roughly in his palm. 

kissing down your stomach, he reaches the band of your panties with a smile. 

"are you going to ask if you can take them off, haechan." 

"i was gonna ask if i could eat you out," he murmurs against your skin, kitten licking your inner thighs and sending chills up your spine. 

swallowing hard, you nod. "yes." 

nosing at your clothed clit, he sucks the seat of your panties into his mouth, lips puckered in an adorable way if he wasn't literally trying to suck it off your skin. 

"haechan…you can take them off," you say, weakly, feeling heat pool in your navel. 

"mmhm…" he says, both hands winding around your thighs to grip onto the fabric of your panties. "or i could do this." with one harsh movement he's ripping them off of you, holding the pieces of cloth in his hands gleefully as he plunges forward and sucks harshly on your folds.

"haechan," you half-moan, half shout. "why did you do that…" 

"i'm sorry, baby," he flattens his tongue and laps at you, flicking his tongue against your clit. "i'll buy you new sets, i'll buy you as many sets as you want…" stiffening his tongue, his prods at your entrance and tries to reach as far into you as he can, licking at your walls, his nose bumping into your clit as he tilts his head this way and that. 

the pleasure increases tenfold when he starts moaning, and you finally come to your senses enough to see how he's humping the bed, his hips moving in time with the way he was licking at you. "taste so sweet," he moans. "cum on my face, angel. fuck…" he whines obscenely, hips moving faster against the sheets as he shoves two fingers into you, making your back arch. "can you cum for me?" 

you let your orgasm crash into you, the pleasure burning through you and making you go lightheaded. haechan is whimpering and moaning, and you realise you have your hands tangled in his hair, tugging him away from your core and making his neck crane up. you almost let go before you remember that he likes it, so you pull a little harder and watch the way his hips stutter against the bed, achy moans filling the air as he cums. 

"sorry," he gasps, "fuck, sorry…" he crumples into your arms. "it felt so good…i couldn't help myself." 

"it's okay…" you still when you feel something prod at your entrance. "haechan-" but you're cut off by a loud moan, as haechan pushes his softening cock into you. "haechan, are you sure-"

"hurts," he moans. "but it'll feel better soon, it'll feel…fuck fuck fuck," his hips moving in an uneven rhythm, as if he can't decide whether to stop or go harder. "just a bit more…" he mumbles to himself. 

deciding to help him, you smooth your hands down his chest and wrap your legs around him. he loves it when you cling to him during sex, he's told you openly, and he bites back another sigh as the pain seems to dissipate into raw pleasure again. 

"just a bit more, baby," you murmur in his ear. he hiccups, nodding as he starts to pound into you in earnest, slapping sounds echoing in the room as his cock abuses the one spot inside you that makes you see stars. stretched out and filled by him, you rock your hips into his too, feeling his thick cock bulge inside you.

"can i cum in you, please?" he asks, softly, painfully. from where he lies on top of you, his brow glistening with sweat and his eyes watery from the overstimulation, you could never say no to him. he cums when you do, the feeling of your walls clenching around him being too much to bear, and he slumps in your arms, hips still pulsing against yours until you physically push him and he slips out of you.

haechan takes your words to heart. when you tell him to ask for permission, he does it throughout aftercare — asking for permission to run you a bath, to make you tea, to pull you closer in bed. and as you let his eyes meet yours, his gaze seeping into your pupils and making your mind go hazy, you wonder if he takes your words so seriously that he'll never consider moving from the affection you asked for, to the love you were too scared to want.

x

"did you forget something at my place?" 

"no." a pause. "if i did, it would be too late because i'm almost home."

"then why are you calling?" 

"because i'm cold, and my shoes are wet, and it's all your fault." he huffs petulantly, his words muffled by a pout you can imagine vividly in your mind's eye. "because you wouldn't let me stay the night." 

"haechan," you started. "i already told you i have really bad insomnia…" he grumbles to himself and you think you can hear him mocking your tone. "i really need to sleep for tomorrow because i have that test-" 

"oh yeah?" he bites back, annoyance clear in his tone. "and how's your sleeping going huh? are you talking to me in your sleep now?" 

you make an incredulous sound. "if anything you should be kinder to me since i evidently can't sleep right now-"

"you know i could have just fucked you right?"

what the fuck. the sound of footsteps on gravel crunch on even louder, anger evident in the way he's practically stomping his way back to his apartment. 

"haechan…what?" 

"sex and other forms of physical intimacy at bedtime have been shown to increase drowsiness, reduce the time it takes to fall asleep, and improve overall sleep quality," he rattles off. when you don't respond, the anger seeps back into his tone. "i'm not making this up! that's a direct quote from the chief of pul…shit, pulmo…pulmonology at Kaiser Permanente in Honolulu." 

"what's pulmonology?" 

"how the fuck should i know?" another frustrated crunch. "but she's the chief of it, so she should know what she's saying." 

your head is still reeling. stall, he gets distracted easily. "w-when did you look this up?" 

"two weeks ago, when you told me you had trouble sleeping." crunch. "i had a…a….hypothetical…?"

"hypothesis?" 

"don't interrupt me," he snaps. "i just remembered that people get sleepy after sex, and i knew there had to be a scientific reason. i'm not stupid you know." 

"i know…" you say, weakly. 

"but you wouldn't let me stay the night, for some reason you don't want to fuck me anymore, so now you have to suffer the consequences." the sound of a key fumbling in the door. 

"haechan…"

his voice drops an octave, a harsh rasp you've only heard when it was late at night or early in the morning. "i could have taken such good care of you, angel. i would've eaten you out…stretched you out on my fingers…" 

his next words are almost condescending. "would've fucked you until you passed out, or at least fucked you dumb."  

confusion, and something far stronger and deeper, tug at your stomach. 

"haechan?" your voice is a pale whisper. 

he hums. 

"i'm sorry. come back." you cringe at sound of your voice, small and achy, but you can't help yourself. 

there's silence on the other end. 

"you…want me to go back?" 

"please." 

and the line goes dead. 

x

it's a solid 15 minute walk from haechan's to your apartment, but it only takes 7 minutes after he hangs up for him to slam against your door, pounding on it with an urgency far too loud for 12.30am. 

when you open the door he crumples to the floor at your feet. he's drenched, completely, gasping and panting so hard you can see his chest move in and out with each shuddering breath. his mouth moving soundlessly, he crawls towards you, dragging himself up with a hand scrabbling at the wall, and your arms circle his waist immediately to steady him. 

his eyes are squinted shut in pain at what you assume is a stitch in his side, but he's still mouthing the same set of words over and over again soundlessly, too out of breath to vocalise them. 

"haechan, it's okay-" you splutter, helping him out of his rain-soaked sweater, his white shirt stuck to his skin underneath. "breathe. fuck, i told you to come back but i didn't tell you to sprint, did you fall? why would you-" 

"- don'tchangeyourmind," he rasps, gasping and hiccuping between breaths, the words finally ringing out in the still air of your apartment. "don't change your mind, don't change your mind…don't-" he coughs, his breaths still feeling more like punches than drawing air. 

"please don't change your mind," he begs.

his eyes are stealing the words from the cavity of your chest, drinking you in until you can't think of anything to say.

whimpering at your lack of response, he places his whole body weight on you, forehead gently nudging yours. "you told me to come back," he whispers. "i didn't want to give you any time to regret it. just now…when you made me leave…" his voice drops low. 

he was supposed to be the boy who just wanted to fuck you. but why did it sound like he was talking about something else entirely?

"i don't regret it, haechan," you say, softly. "and i could never…" you swallow. "i could never change my mind about you." 

he blinks, dazed. "i…" he takes a shuddering breath, and you tense up in fear. did he think you were alluding to something more? 

"haechan, i just meant-" 

"fuck, i don't understand anything you're saying," he blurts out. "i just know i want you, now." he drops his arms to your waist. "don't make me beg…i mean, fuck, if you told me to i would, but i just…" 

"you don't have to use your words," murmuring, you run your hands up and down his arms, and he shivers at your touch, closing his eyes.

"but you need to hear them," he insists. "words of affirmation…remember?" your heart thunders in your chest. 

"haechan…"

"i want to feel like i have you." his lips ghost over yours. "please?"

"please," you repeat back at him, and he's all over you. 

he carries you to your room, placing you gently on the bed. things go by in a blur, his gentle voice guiding you through the motions, skin against skin and his lips kissing you everywhere. before you know it, you're straddling his thigh as he drags your hips, grinding you down onto him as his mouth licks at your neck. 

"louder, angel," he pants, flexing the muscles in his thigh and making you whimper as you feel yourself coming close. this is the most silent he's been with you ever, his ears attuned to every catch of your breath, every choked sound you let out, that he falls silent to drink it all in. 

"need more," you beg. "need you, please…"

"you have me." his eyes soften, the sight of you falling apart on just his thighs giving him an aching feeling in his chest. this was different from the girls who would fall over themselves to talk to him, who used their own tricks to meet his. this was you, giving all your control to him. "you're doing so good for me."

sniffling, you grind harder against him, chasing your climax. "i am?" 

he allows himself a small groan. he wanted to swallow you whole. "come here," he says, tenderness straining at his voice. 

he stretches you out before he slips into you, waits until you give him the go ahead. he makes you wrap your arms around him, feet planted on the bed as your body intertwines with his, as he fucks up into you. he wants to feel you on him until he can finally decipher every look that flits through your eyes, until he can read your thoughts and drown in them. he presses a hand to your navel, and feels himself moving inside you, angling his hips until he knows he's ramming his tip against your sweet spot, feels your breath catch as if it were his own, your tears mixing with his sweat. 

he bites down on your shoulder when he cums with you. he doesn't know if it's to savour the sound of you falling apart because of him, or if it's to stop himself from admitting he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. 

x

when you wake up, he's in your bed. scrawling on a piece of paper. 

he doesn't notice you're awake, so you move closer to him on the pretence that you're still sleeping, watching through heavy eyelids the way he's muttering to himself, biting on his lip harshly. the ache between your legs gives you a sense of bliss, and the sight before you gives you an overwhelming sense of peace in your heart.

feeling your body shift, he absentmindedly reaches out to stroke your hair. it's that specific action that gives you the courage to sit up, your heart full. 

"good morning, haechan." 

"what's another word for fuck?" he's not looking at you, mindlessly chewing on his fingernails as his eyes dart across his piece of paper. 

"um…the verb or the expletive?" 

"the action." 

"why do you need another word for 'fuck'?" placing a hand on his shoulder, you lower your head to try and catch his attention. "haechan? what are you doing?" 

"i need another word for fuck because renjun told me not to use the word 'fuck'," he mumbles, crossing things out on his scrap of paper. 

"why?" you laugh, watching as his lips begin to pout slightly at how things were not turning out the way he planned at all. 

unable to stop himself, he lets out a whine. "because it's unromantic-" clenching his fists, he yelps as the speech he has scrawled out gets crumpled up. "fuck!" 

"haechan, it's okay," you're trying hard to keep a straight face, wanting to match his sincerity and tone. "is that a letter? for me?" 

"it's my script," he snaps. "it's my planned confession." groaning, he tries to straighten it out so he can read the words on it. "you said…you said it was a bad thing not to confess, which means it's a good thing to confess…" 

you feel like you're about to cry. "explain in your own words," you place a hand on his wrist. 

"i- you-" he takes a deep breath, letting the crumpled piece of paper fall off the bed and onto the floor. "you deserve someone who can keep up with you," he starts, quietly. "you deserve someone who will understand your jokes on first listen, who can hold long conversations with you without getting distracted by how hot you are when you're talking about something smart. i can't be that person." 

the words sting at your heart. is that really how haechan felt when he was around you? 

"but also-" his voice grows stronger, a hint of defiance in his tone. "i know for a fact that i make you laugh harder than anyone you know, even if you're laughing at me and not with me. i also know i can fuck you better than anyone you've ever been with, like, look-" 

he roughly pulls you towards him, lips finding yours messily. unfazed by the way your body tenses in surprise, he slips his tongue in your mouth just as he pulls you to grind onto his lap, causing you to gasp into his mouth. it doesn't take long for the shock to wear off, your body so attuned to him that a buzz runs through your veins — and you're just about to press yourself against him, starting to reciprocate his sloppy kisses, when he pulls away with a wet sound. 

panting, he swipes his thumb affectionately at the corner of your lips. "see?" 

you can't tell if you're frustrated that it ended so soon, or confused at what just happened. "see what?" 

"that was what, 15 seconds?" both your breaths come quick and fast, the tension in the room so palpable you could feel it press insistently against your skin. "and look at you now." a smile tugs at his lips, and he raises his eyebrows cockily. "i'm the only one who can do that to you." 

"yes, you are." you affirm.  

"yeah, because, i know how to touch you-" 

"because i'm in love with you," you interrupt, softly. 

and haechan literally stops breathing. 

you can see the way his chest stops moving entirely — his mouth hanging open, doe eyes wide. it's almost comical, the way his body freezes up. 

"i can't tell if you're doing that on purpose."  

still nothing. 

"did you really stop breathing?" 

"you love me?" 

he comes back to life spluttering, hands pointing to you, than himself, trying to make sure he hadn't heard wrong. 

"i love you," you repeat, gently. placing your palms on his chest, you feel his beating heart under your fingertips.

"you're not scared anymore?" he places his hands on your face in wonder, brushing a thumb on your cheekbone. you let yourself fall into his eyes, soft in the morning light. "you make it the easiest thing in the world," you whisper. the two of you bask in the moment, him breathing in your air, leaning closer and closer to you. your lips brush.

"fuck."

you whine as he pulls away, a horrified look on his face.

"y/n, i think i brainwashed you into loving me," he whispers, voice laced with genuine fear.

sighing, you gently bump your forehead with his. "if you make this about your dick..."

"no," he lets out a strangled sound. "that day, when we were calling and i was asking you questions..."

"haechan i swear to god-"

"those were 36 questions to make you fall in love," he whispers, pained. "y/n...i think i manipulated you. fuck i knew science was real, but i didn't know it was that useful-"

"after we make out, i'm going to have to explain the difference between pseudo-science and science to you", you grumble, as you push him back onto the bed and close the distance between you.

x

he whispers it into your hair, your face buried in his bare chest one night, his arms wrapped securely around you. 

"i don't want to go back tonight." 

"then don't." you hold him a little tighter, feeling him shift under your touch. "stay." 

"no, as in, i don't want to go back, ever." 

"haechan." 

he hums, hands starting to stroke at your sides, rubbing his thumb against the swell of your chest. 

"is this your way of asking to move in with me?" 

"i dunno…" 

"you do know that it's a big thing in a relationship right? and you're going to have to actually move out of your apartment, and figure out the rent on mine, and…"

"i don't care about that," he mumbles, a hint of stubborness in his tone. breathing in your hair, his voice drops even lower. "all i know is, i want to wake up tomorrow right here, with you. and the day after tomorrow. and the day after." 

"yeah?" 

his arms fall away from you as you sit up, brushing your hair out of your face to look at him in the lamplight. propped up against the headboard, his eyes wide and gaze so tender it steals your breath away like a blow to your ribcage. you can see the hesitance written all over him, the slight tension in his shoulder-blades, his fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the sheets. 

"please say yes," he whispers, more to himself than to you. 

"haechan…" you take his hands in yours, and kiss his fingertips gently. "please move in with me." 

exhaling in exaggerated relief, he pulls you onto him and kisses you deeply. mouth moving against yours, his eyelashes fluttering as he focuses on your tongue moving against his, his teeth grazing your lips. trying to convey all the love he had for you in the way he gently held the back of your neck, his other pressing down on the small of your back until your body curves into his. 

"if you move in with me," you smile, breathlessly, when he finally lets you go. "you can finally fuck me awake, like you promised." 

a pause. 

"is that all i am to you?" sadly, he runs a hand absentmindedly down his beautiful body, landing on his thighs. his eyes are downcast when he mumbles out, "just a hot body for you to fuck?" 

panicking, you lean into him quickly, cupping his face in your hands as you settle down on his lap. "baby, you know that's not true. you're the most genuine, kind, loving….." you trail off, eyes narrowing when you realise he's biting his lip to keep from laughing. "manipulative, conniving…" 

his eyes crinkle adorably as he wraps you in his arms, rubbing the tip of his nose on yours. "you love me soooo much," he whispers, almost conspiratorially. 

yes.

pause. "also, what does conniving mean?" 

yes. you did.

taglist: @puduwhore @haechanalpha @anniebyanto @sunnynaa @newdeobi @strwberrydinosaur @gyulfriend @91qowngus, @sundhaelatte, @jaemboi64, @sassy-author, @matchahyuck, @prdshobi @beomibeom

-> go to part 2 here!

this was so cute

what the puck!

pairing: hockey player!donghyuck x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, a crackfic turned way too serious lmao

word count: 11.6k

synopsis: you hit the university’s star hockey player with your car. shenanigans (and maybe even a little romance) ensue. 

author’s note: sorry i came back after almost an entire year and dropped this instead of anything people actually asked for teehee 😋 also i know nothing about hockey so none of the sports stuff makes sense pls kindly ignore <3 big shoutout to miss cat and moon for coming up with the only good parts of this fic 

warning(s): brief descriptions of injuries 

playlist: and july (feat. dean and dj friz) by heize ― mixtape 2003 by the academic ― chit chat by beach weather ― 1983 by neon trees ― fearless by taylor swift

part i. lee taemin once said his ideal meet-cute is a girl running him over with her car <3

First off, to set the record straight—

You are not a bad driver.

There just so happened to be a bad thunderstorm, and your windshield wipers happened to malfunction, and you happened to lightly tap someone with the front of your beat-up Toyota Prius. Honestly, the person probably did more damage to your car that’s one airbag deployment away from spontaneous combustion than the car could ever do to him. 

However, for some reason, the blurry figure that you can barely make out through the onslaught of rainfall doesn’t seem to be getting up off the ground. 

Hurriedly putting your car in park, you clamber out in a panic as water pelts you in the face like one of those super strong hoses set on sprinkler mode. Without even asking if the person is okay, you lift him up by the shoulders and shake him violently. 

“Oh my God, please don’t die! I literally can’t afford to pay for someone’s funeral right now,” you wail. 

Keep reading

(re)starting over again | kth; masterlist

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | baker!taehyung x nurse!reader

warnings | mentioned in every chapter

 main masterlist

CHAPTER ONE  | When a usual after-work pick up resulted to an accident, everything resulted to an unexpected restart between you and Taehyung.

CHAPTER TWO  |  When Taehyung decided to get to know you more, you two spend the whole day together.

CHAPTER THREE  |  As you and Taehyung get closer again, he still have someone that he cannot help come back to. Lily. Oppositely, you noticed some changes in you after the accident.

CHAPTER FOUR  | You goes back to your job as a nurse while Taehyung tries to work in the bakeshop again. With more time spent apart, Taehyung finds way to catch up with his past missing years.

CHAPTER FIVE  | Communication between you and Taehyung gets more harder as your time difference gets in the way, making more room for a secret to be kept. 

CHAPTER SIX  |  All about guilt, overthinking, and Taehyung’s weird feelings in the morning of Lily’s visit.

CHAPTER SIX POINT FIVE  | While you’re out for Jisoo’s party, Taehyung and Lily finally met to talk.

CHAPTER SEVEN  | Coming home from Jisoo’s party, you were drunk.

CHAPTER EIGHT  | Just when you thought things are getting better, an unexpected interaction can show how fragile everything became.

CHAPTER NINE  | And when the facade breaks down…

CHAPTER TEN  | Wedding, endings, and beginnings.

[more chapters soon]

DRABBLES  | Scenarios that did not made it to the final cuts of the chapters.

tea time - As you and Taehyung both struggle to find sleep almost two weeks after the accident, you simply offer him a cup of tea.

can i? -  The first time you had a nightmare after the accident, you ended up in front of Taehyung’s door.

taglist rules

RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST [closed] @halesandy @boohoobabe @hopeonysus  @taffyteffy @pnlpbnl  @arusio @rpkth @cinnamonruts @xyahrinx @betysotelo18 @sugaslittlekookies  @doublebunv @dahliasbouqet @lust-kth @aria-grace-scott  @milkteallday  @hoodalmighty  @kiwuki @http-fayeradise  @daydreamiies @starlight-night0 @chaoticbisous@mageprincess7 @byunniebaekhyunnie @hiimnothing  @koreanaestheticc @shin-ie @blancflms​ @jeonkoookiee​ @satorinnie​ @rjsmochii​ @yoonglesdoll​ @somewhereinthestarss​ @turnthepageandbeburnt​ @heyjiminnie​ @bri-mal​ @teddybeartaetae​ @cinnamonruts​ @kaal-ee​ @nikkiordonez12​ @motivatedprocastinator​ @r​kiveed-girl

  PERMANENT TAGLIST @dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @miyukihoshi @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink 

Boyfriend Things OT7

The Love Scenarios

first edition - middle of the night

second edition - love at home

third edition - post break up

fourth edition - dancing

fifth edition - there’s nobody else

sixth edition - love in primary colors

seventh edition - one day at a time

eighth edition - kisses

ninth edition - dreams in reality

tenth edition - hugs

eleventh edition - when you lay in between my legs it doesn’t matter

Keep reading

I love this so bad i love taehyung he deserves all the love in the world🫶🥺 (i don't like jimin)

neither strangers, friends or lovers; maybe they’re meant to be the in between

+

these days, taehyung realizes he spends most of his time in between your legs and lost in his thoughts — trying to convince himself that he’d rather your body than half of your heart

navi | m. list | ask me! | add yourself to my taglist !

pairing: taehyung + oc

au/genre: strangers to friends with benefits to lovers ?? slow burn / one sided pining, goodgirl to fuckgirl!oc + fuckboy!taehyung, social media au + written scenes, crack, and angst

warnings: love/hate relationships, getting over an ex (jimin) aka VMIN FEUD, explicit language, BASICALLY THIS FIC IS DEDICATED TO THAT PERSON U MET DURING UR HEALING ,,, ahahahahaaa…. implied + actual smut

parts: 30 / 30 ( completed 05.01.22 )

ii . (30/30) # plm kth 

please love me series m. list

Keep reading

i love 🩷

— LOVE YOU FIRST

★ summary: kim taehyung was his college’s heartthrob — local fuck boy and everyone’s dream. he had it all — the girls, the friend group, the status. he even had his childhood best friend who he would do anything for. but through drunken nights, one night stands, and having his best friend start dating for the first time, taehyung realizes that maybe he doesn’t have everything he’s ever wanted.

“did you fuck him?”

“what? taehyung i —”

“yes or no, y/n? did you fuck him?…did you let him touch you?”

★ pairing: fuckboyartist!taehyung x reader

★ genre: fluff, angst, humor, social media au, best friends to lovers, college au, slow-burn, non-idol au, drama, childhood best friends, more fluff, sexual content.

★ status: ongoing

★ schedule: when i want too at 6 pm est usually

★ authors note: this is my first social media au so please be gentle while i get the hang of it. i’ll mark written parts and mature content as needed. hope you guys like it and let me know what u think. xo

Keep reading

With a Brush of Fate | KTH | Series Masterlist

MAIN MASTERLIST

READ ON AO3

Pair: Kim Taehyung x f!reader 

Summary: Your roommate was sure she found you the perfect man. Her boyfriend believed he found Taehyung’s soulmate. The only problem was that you never wanted to date an idol and he never wanted to drag you into this life. Taehyung didn’t even know what he wanted anymore and was tired of being criticized for simply growing up. You just wanted to finish university and do something for yourself. What started out with the meddling of your friends became something neither of you expected. Could the two of you be what the other is missing? Or would things just fall apart?

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, idol au, strangers to lovers.

Warnings: Another idol au because I can’t be fixed. Idol!Tae x ArtStudent!reader. Choi Wooshik and wooga are part of the story. We follow BTS’ 2021 schedule, but there’s no c*vid. More to be added. 

Taglist: Open! 

Updates: Every monday, wednesday and friday.

One.

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty one - finale

🎨

Boyfriend Things OT7

The Love Scenarios

first edition - middle of the night

second edition - love at home

third edition - post break up

fourth edition - dancing

fifth edition - there’s nobody else

sixth edition - love in primary colors

seventh edition - one day at a time

eighth edition - kisses

ninth edition - dreams in reality

tenth edition - hugs

eleventh edition - when you lay in between my legs it doesn’t matter

Keep reading

the sleep/bed-sharing vmin chronicles

Keep reading

maybe i do | kth. 9.5

➵ summary : feeling sick and under the weather, all it really takes is your husband to make you feel better. 

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre : arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, established relationship!au (at this point), tooth-rotting fluff 

➵ rating : sfw

➵ word count : 6k (my sad excuse of a drabble)

➵ warnings : none!! this is super fluffy and domestic, lots of hugs and cuddling and kissing 🥺

➵ a/n: so i’m sure not many expected this, but i really, really wanted to gift you all with a little something for my birthday today, so here’s the fluffiest drabble i could write for our maybe i do babies!! thank you to my lovely beta-reader @hantaev as always 🥺 and feedback means the world to me <3

➵ important note : reading this drabble isn’t necessary to the maybe i do series, though it’s suggested to gain some exclusive information on the couple. this drabble can also be read as a stand-alone though it would make your experience much better to be familiar with our favourite couple !!

chapter nine. five : “you are too good to be true”

prev. ↞ || ↠ next || masterlist

It’s 8 in the morning. 

And you should’ve been out of bed an hour ago. 

Keep reading

this is so adorable! <3

summary: in which you get your period and jungkook just wants to be with you.

> fluff / wc: 2.9k

> warnings: period blood 😭 lots of it obviously you know how it is

note: helloooo i’m back :D this was requested. i think. it was probably a month ago so i don’t remember well IM SORRYYYY but here it is anon who was ranting about their period in my asks <3 i feel like i’ve been gone for long but it’s only been a week help i’ve been here and there for the past days hehe

—

you stand motionless beside the bed, staring at the blood stain on the grey bed sheets. you’re still too tired to function and to process the mess you’ve made this fine morning, and you can’t find it in yourself to move when the pain of period cramps is starting to blossom in your abdomen.

jungkook enters the bedroom to wake you up and to announce that breakfast is ready, but is met with the sight of your current predicament.

“oh, baby,” he sighs, wrapping his arms around you and planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “come on, let’s get you freshened up.”

it’s his first instinct to check on the inside of your thighs. this isn’t new. he used to worriedly mention it the first few months you lived together — asking if you’re feeling okay, if it’s normal to bleed that much, until he didn’t anymore. instead, he speaks through his actions.

you feel the wet wipes slide across the soft skin of your thighs, and you try to take over cleaning yourself but his quiet ‘let me’ leaves your heart feeling weaker. your eyes gloss over his hunched figure lovingly, wondering when the intimacy between the two of you started running this deep. with a silent whimper, you lean your weight against his hold when the lightheadedness become unbearable.

it’s the worst week of the month again. your period has always left you in pain, vulnerable, helpless. after the long years of experiencing this monthly, one would assume that you’d get used to it at some point, but you simply can’t. every month feels like the very first time, an evil-spirited visitor forcibly bursting through your front door on a random morning to wreak havoc in your peaceful temple.

this morning is one of those mornings. and this is usually when you feel grateful that you no longer live alone, that you won’t need to crawl your way to the bathroom because your super strong boyfriend never hesitates to swoop you in his arms.

Keep reading

Have Mercy (on me)

Pairing: JJK x Reader WC: 9.3k Genre: Smut, PWP Rating: M (minors dni) Warnings: Toxic gamer boy JK, Mean OC, sexism, Subby JK, D/s dynamics, excessive use of petnames, tattoos, piercings (nipples and genital), spit, edging, self asphyxiation, overstimulation, degradation, humiliation, praise, NO AFTERCARE Banner by @introlxv Beta’d by @amourtae Part of: Bangtan DLC: A Streamer BTS Collab hosted by @joonscypher​, @kookskingdom​, & @lavienjin​ Summary:  Jungkook is finally popular enough to quit his job and make a living off his streaming and he’s very proud of his Master rank. His cockiness takes a turn when an unknown player joins his team and starts talking shit but what’s worse is they’re not just talking the talk but walking the walk. Jungkook ends up humiliated in multiple ways but there’s only one of which he ends up liking.  Authors note: It’s finally here! A special thank you to @audreonne​ for using her esports knowledge and correcting everything I had wrong with the Overwatch gameplay (because I’m a filthy casual and don’t play) and letting me use her username. Also to my lovely writing net @thebtswritersclub​ and everyone who supported me with hype and writing alongside me in sprints.

Keep reading

— LOVE YOU FIRST

★ summary: kim taehyung was his college’s heartthrob — local fuck boy and everyone’s dream. he had it all — the girls, the friend group, the status. he even had his childhood best friend who he would do anything for. but through drunken nights, one night stands, and having his best friend start dating for the first time, taehyung realizes that maybe he doesn’t have everything he’s ever wanted.

“did you fuck him?”

“what? taehyung i —”

“yes or no, y/n? did you fuck him?…did you let him touch you?”

★ pairing: fuckboyartist!taehyung x reader

★ genre: fluff, angst, humor, social media au, best friends to lovers, college au, slow-burn, non-idol au, drama, childhood best friends, more fluff, sexual content.

★ status: ongoing

★ schedule: updates on wednesdays and saturdays at 6 pm est.

★ authors note: this is my first social media au so please be gentle while i get the hang of it. i’ll mark written parts and mature content as needed. hope you guys like it and let me know what u think. xo

➳ part one: introductions 

➳ part two: biggest baby

➳ part three: mhm

➳ part four: all day

➳ part five: reminds me of you (written)

➳ part six: favorite girl 

➳ part seven: unbelievable

#bawlingmyeyesout thank you for this

Soft Hours ~ Kim Taehyung

Genre: Fluff, Fatherly Love.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Taehyung doing everything every father should do. Maybe him loving his baby's bum cheeks a little too much.

3:24 AM

Taehyung’s eyes landed on the digital clock that displayed the time by the corner of the room, a hand reaching to grab the blanket and shrug it off of his body. Distant whines, squeaky and soft reached his ears, a warm smile tugging at his lips when he paused his movements to just sit on the bed and let the tips of his finger trace his wedding ring.

It had been the best year of his life. There was no doubt in that. Marrying the woman that he loved, getting to spend every moment of every day with her, spoiling her, and also getting spoiled in return. Yet, one of the most memorable parts of this journey was the day he finally realized that he had become a dad. It wasn’t right away when he found out that you were pregnant. It wasn’t even when he felt his little child kick against his palm that was resting over the swell of your bump.

It was around this time of the night, a few months ago, when he had randomly woken up with tears simply streaming down his face. He had felt it right then, a feeling that he could never describe even if he tried to. He just knew that for the first time in his life, he was a father. Ever since, this part of his morning had been the highlight of his day. A sense of peace, a mind-boggling memory that made him feel giddy each time his eyes naturally opened. A time that he felt like he was on top of the world.

Taehyung had already begun to murmur little words of praise the moment he stepped into the room of his little angel, eyes sparkling with happiness at the sight of his son waiting for him with his arms outstretched in his tiny bed.

“Hi, baby.”

Chubby legs that kicked excitedly at the sight of his father made Taehyung’s smile widen, bending to duck beneath the florescent stars and moons that hung over the bed to run a gentle hand over his son’s head. The little boy’s face turned towards the warmth of his father’s touch, light brown hair soft and smooth against Taehyung’s palm. The tiny cries were long forgotten by the child; the remnants of the tears now being wiped away ever so softly by Taehyung’s thumb.

“Are you happy to see me?” Taehyung cooed at the way his baby babbled, hands excitedly pushing through the air in an attempt to be lifted up. With a soft kiss to the boy’s temple, Taehyung slipped his hands beneath his son’s body, long fingers supporting his neck, lifting him up and against his chest, a protective hand holding his little one beneath his head and another right under his cute little bum.

“Appa missed you so much,” Taehyung gushed, gently peppering numerous feather light kisses all over his little face. Eyes that shone brightly under the gentle golden glow of the room stared back at his father’s face, eyelashes long and wet with previous tears yet not a trace of sadness evident in them. The little one giggled excitedly, both hands resting against Taehyung’s collarbones while his chubby feet that had a pair of yellow superman socks over them kicked happily against Taehyung’s stomach.

“Aigo, why was my baby crying, huh?” Taehyung gently traced a finger over the tear stains that streaked down his son’s temples. “Were you missing me? Hmm?”

Taehyung couldn’t help but reach forward to catch that little nose between his lips, attempting to softly bite it off even though his lips cushioned his teeth so that he wouldn’t hurt his baby.

“Or were you hungry? Hmm? Haven’t you got your massive appetite from me?”

Walking the two of them into the kitchen, Taehyung continued to chat away with his son, occasionally giving him a little bounce against his hip that pulled joyous squeaks from the little boy's grinning mouth. His hand never left the boy’s middle, protectively keeping him to his own chest, the other expertly pulling out everything that he needed.

Taehyung poured some water into the kettle to bring it to a good boil, pulling out the box of milk powder from the cupboard and opening the sterilizer to take out a freshly sterilized milk bottle. While he began to randomly rap a few parts from one of their songs, something he was quick to notice his son enjoyed thoroughly, Taehyung also began to laugh along with his son who cackled each time he enunciated words that sounded funny to him. Three scoops into the bottle and the knob of the electric kettle ticked shut, the red light turning off and a smooth white streak of steam rushing through the opening.

He held his son away from the kettle, making sure to tighten his grip around the little boy’s waist when he poured the boiling hot water into the bottle, watching how numerous bubbles formed over the milk powder that clumped initially but soon began to melt away into a creamy white meal for his little one. Taehyung hummed at the sweet smell of the milk, covering the bottle and giving it a good shake.

“We’ll let this cool for a bit,” Taehyung turned to look at the boy in his arms, holding his hand and smiling at the way his fingers curled around his thumb. “Okay? Shall we go change you up?”

Experienced hands pushed into the soft material of the pamper, another gentle coo leaving his mouth at the way his pamper sagged just a little, soaked and heavy.

“My little baby is too cute, let me just eat you up,” Taehyung laughed, patting his bum and biting into his reddened cheek. His son squealed, glorious giggles rushing through his chest at the way his father was playing with him.

He set the boy down on the soft material of the grey changing pad, giving him his little toy horse to occupy himself with and placing his pacifier at his lip, waiting for his son to take it in.

“Cutie, cutie,” Taehyung sang ever so softly, pulling out a fresh diaper from the packet and tugging at the soft material of his blue pants. For the first time since his father had held him, the little boy looked away and towards the brown toy in his hand, fingernails that were cut short and neat scraping against the body of the horse.

Taehyung tore the sides of the pamper, holding both of his legs high up into the air and pulling the diaper from beneath him. Rolling it into a nice little ball, Taehyung dumped the used pamper into the bin near the board, giving his cute butt cheeks a soft tap. Sniffling distractedly, Taehyung then pulled a wet wipe from the packet, gently running it all along the places that were covered by the pamper, taking out another one to make sure he was nice and clean.

He then bent a little closer to look for any rashes on the soft skin, running a finger along each side of his hips and bum, a satisfied sigh escaping his chest when he found none. Patting a generous amount of powder onto his hands, he ran it along all corners, around his groin, and along the smooth curve of his butt.

“You really like your horse, don’t you?” Taehyung smiled at the way he was holding his toy high up in the air, quickly reaching for his hand that dropped to push the head of the horse into his mouth.

“Ah, ah! No,” Taehyung shook his head, making sure to emphasize the last word to teach his son the meaning of it. Pushing it a little, the boy soon forgot about it, pulling at the feet and kicking his legs in wonder.

“You’re almost done, sweet thing.”

Taehyung slipped his hand into one of the gaps of the diaper, grabbing the boy's right leg and smoothly pulling it right through. Repeating it for the left one as well, Taehyung lifted both of his legs again and pulled the pamper comfortably against his butt.

“You’re all good. Do you want some pants? Or no?”

The child couldn’t be bothered by the insensible words that floated towards him, soon dropping the horse and reaching both of his hands up for Taehyung to pick him up. A good meal and a good sleep was something he didn’t know he wanted, preoccupying himself with the brown strands of his father’s hair while he was being carried back to the kitchen.

Taehyung picked up the bottle that felt warm against his palm, tilting it slightly under some of it dripped onto the thin skin on the back of his hand.

“Just the right temperature for my little dumpling. Let’s have some nyam nyam before we sleep.”

Taehyung chose to settle down on the couch instead of the nursery, back inclined against the white cushions and settling the excited nine-month-old baby in between his thighs. Pulling him gently until he was resting against Taehyung’s stomach, he placed the nipple of the bottle at his bottom lip, urging the boy to grab the bottle and push it further into his mouth.

Taehyung then loosened the cover just a bit until he could see a stream of bubbles rush through the top end of the bottle, not wanting the boy to struggle to pull the milk through it. Resting further against the comfort of the sofa, Taehyung then placed a firm hand against his son’s stomach, a touch of reassurance so that he wouldn’t jerk awake in fear, while the other rested over his head, his hand large and warm against the soft skin of his son’s forehead. He occasionally let his hand move further until his palm covered the little one’s eyes, then ran the pad of his thumb against his temple and cheek, a touch that usually calms his baby and lulls him into a sweet sleep.

The occasional sounds of the clock ticking in the distance and the suckling sounds that came from the boy who was now halfway through his bottle of milk made Taehyung hum a sigh of relief, feeling light and happy. There was just no way to describe what he felt.

A man who was always good with children, now with his own child in his arms, gently patting him and feeding him until the boy was satisfied. There was nothing on the face of this world that could make him want something else, nothing that he could trade this feeling for.

Becoming a father, and being a father, was the best thing that he had ever grown into. A glove that fit just right, a cool breeze that made him feel like all the burdens of this world would be carried away with it. He felt good.

Great, for that matter.

Thankful for the tiny little boy who was now falling asleep in his father’s hold, grateful for the fact that he could indeed have a chance to become a dad, especially to such a sweet angel.

Heavy eyelids that were now closing in on his will to stay awake kept him from leaning down to kiss his son goodnight. So with lazy yet loving fingers, Taehyung traced his son’s cheeks softly, letting them rest reassuringly over his chest before both of them slipped into yet another content slumber.

.

.

.

.

.

Taehyung is going to be THE best father on this planet if he isn't already.

Masterlist.

🤤

Which tae do you imagine for mid? Do you have like a mood board? I’m a new reader so all I can imagine is tae in New York at the UN with his suit and exposed forehead😭 it’s crazy cause tae goes from hot sexy businessman with his hair pushed back to lil tae tae bear when his hair is down

Introducing the mid!tae vision everyone 😌

love vmin × reader fics and i love this

Baby, Baby | 01

Pairing: Jimin x Reader x Taehyung

Genre: Surrogacy AU

Warnings: Smut (future), Fluff. A bit of Angst. 

Words: 12k

Summary: When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

A/N: thanks to @jurassicjimin for being a sweetie and helping me edit ily :(( this fic was getting long so i decided to split it in a couple of parts but it will most likely be 3 chapters max. i hope everyone likes this as i kind of had to rewrite the whole thing and it may not be as eloquent as the one i spent longer time on hjerfvuekhbfkejbf anyway feedback is always appreciated :)

Part 2 |

“Miss Y/N?”

“Huh? Yes?” The receptionist smiled gently at your vacant expression as you were sure you probably looked like you were lost instead of the planning you had been doing for weeks to prepare yourself for this very day.

“We’re ready for you now.” You stood up, smoothing your skirt as much as you could with the thin fabric stubbornly creased just below your hips from sitting down. You had told yourself that you would pay more attention to your posture and the nervous squirming you usually did when… well; when you were nervous as hell. But of course, your own advice was the one you mostly adhered to the least.

“Right this way,” The nice middle aged lady led you towards large wooden double doors. The place was modern, sleek, rustic and most of all – screamed money, all at once. You weren’t sure how many architectural structures could be squashed in to one at the same time and look good as well. But you guessed that money always looked good.

No wonder youdidn’t.

She smiled her gentle smile at you as she opened one of the doors and letting you enter first. You mumble a thanks before glancing towards the back of two heads you could see from where you stood. One blonde, the other black. They sat on a large three-seater sofa while a love couch – which made you snort internally given the circumstances – was placed across from them. Just then, Solhyun – the consultant looking after your case – glanced up from her seat.

“Ah! Y/N come on in, yeah,” She nodded encouragingly as you took small, quiet steps – thanks to your flats – towards the couch that you assumed was going to be where you sat, facing the other two men. Speaking of; they had also stood up with Solhyun as she waited for you to come forward.

“Hello,” You went for a handshake but Solhyun pulled you into a gentle hug.

“How are you?” She asks as her greeting with a bright smile on her face, not waiting for you to respond before she is introducing the most important people – and the ones you’d been nervous as hell to meet.

Keep reading

I 👏 C 👏 O👏 N👏 I 👏 C

one of the first taehyung series i've read here and im obsessed with it i love it so much!

maybe i do | kth. masterlist

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ warnings : swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, mentions of confrontative violence (with other characters, not each other), lots of feels concerning forced marriage, a bad ex (reader’s), mentions of bad sexual experiences with ex (consensual, just bad sex), explicit sexual content, oral (m. and f. receiving), unprotected sex, penetrative sex (chapters have their own warnings!)

➵ a/n : thank you so much for all the support on this series! i couldn’t be more grateful ♡

➵ playlist : sweet night by v! the lyrics fit this series perfectly 🥺

➵ status: (complete) ✓

↠  chapter one : “my forever’s falling down” (11k)

↠  chapter two : “on my pillow, can’t get me tired”  (10k)

↠  chapter three : “the window opened one time with you and me”  (17k)

↠  chapter four : “feels like a river’s rushing through my mind”  (16k)

↠  chapter five : “would it be alright, if i pulled you closer?”  (17k)

↠  chapter six : “my heart is pounding tonight”  (25k)

↠  chapter seven : “i’m wondering if you’d want me now”  (22k)

↠  chapter eight : “i still hope the door is open”  (38k)

↠  chapter nine : “i wanna ask you, if this is all just in my head?”  (32k)

↠ [bonus!] chapter nine. five : “you are too good to be true” (6k)

↠ chapter ten : “how could i know, one day i’d wake up feeling more?” (36k)

 ↠ chapter eleven : “i’m wondering, are you my bestfriend?”  (34k)

↠  chapter twelve : “sharing my fragile truth” (50k)

↠  chapter thirteen : “i had already reached the shore” (37k)

↠  final : “we were ships in the night” (55k)

↠  epilogue : “a sweet night”  (3k)

drabbles :

↳ “the very first christmas” 

↳ “comfort”

↳ “one year anniversary” coming soon!

↳ “one week without sex” coming soon!

↳ “remote control” coming soon!

faq : when do you update?

randomly! i used to produce a chapter every week or so, though with school and work things got busy :(  i do work on my updates everyday though ! i also get very active on my blog and inform everyone before a release, so you don’t have to worry 🥺

what does mid!tae look like? 

what’s the timeline of the mid!couple’s relationship?

what’s domestic/at home mid!tae like? 

what happened to the camera?

how are real-life taehyung and mid!taehyung alike?

what do mrs. choi and seo’s schedule look like?

what did mrs. choi and seo do during the events of chapter 8?

what was taehyung’s mindset during the events of chapter 7?

what was taehyung’s pov when they first started getting intimate? 

what was taehyung’s past with women?

a deeper look into the reader’s character 

extras : 

➵ tracking tag 

➵ announcement!

➵ the vote! how should chapter 10 be released?

genuinely one of the best vmin x reader smuts ever

triads and tribulations (m)

+ featuring … jimin x reader x taehyung

+ summary … if your best friend asks you to fuck his boyfriend, who are you to say no?

+ genre … pwp, smut

+ wordcount … 8.4k

+ warnings … rough sex, sub!reader, a lot dirty talk, heavy degradation (use of ‘slut’, ‘whore’, etc.), dumbification, breeding kink, impreg kink, use of toys, cumplay, cum swallowing (!!!), spit play, reader gets tied up

When your best friend, Park Jimin, arrives at your doorstep rain-soaked, you’re only half-surprised when he asks you to fuck his boyfriend. Not that he’d ever made the request before (theirs being a monogamous, loving relationship), but Jimin was always doing out of pocket shit. You shouldn’t have been even the half-surprised that you were, to be honest.

Keep reading